"The Central Division Committee have nominated you unanimously as their candidate at the elections. The Dictator's puppet, Tranta, was howled down. I have arranged for a public meeting on Thursday night for you to address. We are on the crest of the wave!"
"Capital!" said Savrola. "I had expected to be nominated; our influence in the capital is supreme. I am glad of an opportunity of speaking; I have not had a meeting for some time, and there is a good deal to talk about just now. What day did you say you had arranged it for?"
"Thursday in the City-Hall at eight in the evening," said Moret, who, though sanguine, was not unbusiness-like.
"Thursday?"
"Yes, you are not engaged anywhere."
"Well," said Savrola speaking slowly and appearing to weigh his words, "Thursday is the night of the State Ball."
"I know," said Moret, "that was why I arranged it so. They will feel they are dancing on a volcano; only a mile from the palace will be the people, massed, agreed, determined. Molara will not enjoy his evening; Louvet will not go; Sorrento will be making arrangements to massacre, if necessary. It will spoil the festivities; they will all see the writing on the wall."
"Thursday will not do, Moret."
"Not do! Why not?"
"Because I am going to the ball that night," said Savrola deliberately.