'H—m. Well! that's my name. And I spend my time teaching people how to play the guitar, and tuning pianos: that's my trade. So now you know who I am. And I've known your father a good many years now, first and last, a good many years. Just tell him to turn around for a moment. I say, De Rossi—— You look out for yourself; I don't want to crush you, my boy.'
He leaned well forward, and spoke in a low voice to Olinto. Dino was crouching back in his chair: he could not hear what passed between the two men; but half an hour later, and having in the meantime, and at the instigation of his new friend, partaken heartily of his supper, he had the satisfaction of seeing his father carelessly fling a gold piece into the subscription plate, where it lay and glittered obtrusively among the pile of meaner silver coins.
The boy's eyes sparkled with triumph at the sight. He looked up with a frank laugh into the face of his new companion. 'Did you see that, sir?' he asked eagerly, his face all aglow.
'Ay,' Valdez answered almost indifferently. He leaned back on his chair and contemplated the row of faces before him. 'Presently they will begin their fine speechifying. Look here, my boy, I see signs—never mind what they are—but I see symptoms of a coming row. It will be nothing to speak of, I daresay, but all the same I want you to promise me this: If I send you home, I want you to cut away at once without stopping to ask questions, do you see? Now promise me you'll do that, like a good little chap.'
'I'll stay with my father, sir. I must stay with my father. And if you please, sir, I'd rather stay, really. I'm not afraid.'
'Now, who ever supposed you were afraid, my little man? But that is not the question. Now, look here—ah!——'
He stopped short. A sudden silence had fallen upon the room. A man near him roared out 'Hush!' and smote the table before him with his clenched fist. For the last time in his life Olinto de Rossi had risen to make a speech.
He had been very quiet all the previous part of the evening; sitting most of the time with his head leaning upon his hand, hardly speaking to any one, not even to his boy. As he rose slowly to his feet a wild burst of ironical applause greeted him from every part of the room, only Valdez sat silent and motionless, staring down at his plate with a moody troubled face. De Rossi stood leaning a little forward; his thin cheeks, which had grown so deadly pale of late, were burning now with vivid spots of red. 'Friends,' he began, 'Gentlemen——' He hesitated for an instant, then burst into wild invective against Church and King and State. 'The State—the State, I tell you, is the very negation of liberty,' he cried, 'and no matter who command, they make all serve. You talk, some of you, of changing the political régime. How will you change it? For what good? If a man among you has a thorn in his foot, will it help him if he change his boots? I tell you, it is the thorn, the thorn itself, that you must get out, wrench out, cut out, if need be. We, the people, how often have we asked our rulers for bread and they have given us a stone? Yet this is scarcely prudent, friends, for a stone is a fair missile. What! will they live on in their princely palaces and offer to us, to the people, the bare right and privilege of labour? Labour! I tell you that God Himself has set His curse upon labour. I—tell—you——'
His voice had failed him suddenly. He put his hand up to his head, staring wildly about him.
'Go on, go on. That's the right sort of stuff. Down with everything. A general mess and scrimmage, and myself dancing on the top of it; that's your real radical programme. That's what you call reform!' a man in the crowd at the foot of the table cried out derisively. There was a general laugh; some indication of a wish to hustle him into silence; some shouts of 'Viva De Rossi!' The men had all been drinking freely, and were ripe for any mischief.