The prior and all the monks not in immediate service to Mario accompanied the visitor to the door, and they gave a concurrent sigh of anxiety as his carriage rolled away. A little while and their patient, his wound dressed, was sitting up and telling them how it happened. He had reached the point in the narrative where La Ferita fell and the cavalry was rushing on, when his ear caught a familiar, ominous murmur and he paused. It was the voice of the mob as he had heard it last rising from behind La Scala. Only now it grew louder. All at once it burst forth like a fury that had broken bounds, and coming in by the open windows filled the convent in every part. And above the roar and mocking laughter Mario heard again the cry, “Down with the Supper!” Now he understood its import, and the white faces of the brothers told that they too comprehended the jest of the savage throng.
CHAPTER XVIII
MARIO PLAYS THE DEMAGOGUE
The workman sweats
And little gets;
The rich and fine
On capons dine.
Is this fair play?
Oh, yes! priests say,
For the good God wills it so.
Song of the Bread Rioters.