"My friends," said a penetrating voice, "for heaven's sake give him air. The poor man has need of air. We know you love him. He is the friend of the people of Naples, all know, but he should not on that account be stifled. By the miracle of San Januarius restore him to me, restore my master to me, you may have him soon, but now he needs the care of old Giacomo."
Giacomo took the Count's arm, and sought to remove him from the crowd which surrounded him. The Count paid no attention to the old intendant. For a time, he strove almost to cast him off, and stood looking anxiously at a person he saw in the crowd, and whom like a swimmer he sought to approach. This person was his friend Taddeo Rovero. The young man sought in vain to approach the Count. The tide of living beings seconded their wishes, and at last they rushed into the arms of each other, forgetting, while thus enlocked, the world, their secret thoughts, the past, and the present, and mingling together the tears of friendship.
"Air, day, sunlight, motion, life, life itself I have found. They woke up our existence; a dungeon is death—"
Again he threw himself into the arms of Taddeo, with an expression of tenderness and happiness.
"Adieu, my friends," said he to the crowd. "Count Monte-Leone will never forget these proofs of your sympathy, and you may rely on him, his arm, his heart, his fortune, as he does on you."
Taking Taddeo by the arm, he hurried into a neighboring street, accompanied at a little distance by Giacomo, who, as he panted after them, cried out, "Too fast, too fast—what the devil can I do? My legs are worn out—remember I came from the villa to la Vicaria on foot to bring your ring to the Grand Judge."
"My ring!"—then looking anxiously at Giacomo, and in a low tone, he said:
"Are you sure it is my ring?"
"Yes, I swear to it by the blood of Christ and by your life."
"My friends," said the Count, "we have strange secrets to talk of when we are in a safe place. And there the ear and lip must be close together, so that not even the walls of the room in which we are shall be struck by the sound of our accents. Wait for me at the Etruscan villa. In two hours I will rejoin you."