'Who asked for the Honourable Crispi?'
'I—I—I,' answered the thin little voice of the man-skeleton.
'The Honourable Sella cannot leave the hall.'
'The Honourable Bomba is busy in the hall.'
'The Honourable Crispi is with the Budget Committee.'
Quietly the skeleton wrote on another blank, and handed it to an usher.
'Excuse me,' observed the usher, 'we are not allowed to call the Ministers, and especially the President of the Council.'
'And why?' asked the spectre in surprise.
'It is the rule.'
But with unabated patience he wrote another name, and then began to walk to and fro, overtowering all the rest. One concluded to leave; his footstep dragged as he took away with him the humiliation of that long, useless wait; others, making a desperate resolve, went away to post themselves, in the chill of the evening, at the door of Montecitorio, to wait for the deputies coming out. Others, less venturesome, still lingered behind: the gas afforded a little warmth, and at the end of the sitting some deputy might appear. A brougham stopped before the door, remained closed, a footman jumped from the box, came in, gave a note to an usher, and stood waiting, with the impassive air of people used to receive orders. An usher shouted: