as they sow chance seeds? Whether or no, the
mender of roads ran, on the sultry morning, as
if for his life, down the hill, knee-high in dust,
and never stopped till he got to the fountain.

All the people of the village were at the fountain,
standing about in their depressed manner, and
whispering softly, but showing no other emotions
than grim curiosity and surprise. The led cows,
hastily brought in and tethered to anything that
would hold them, were looking stupidly on, or were
lying down chewing the cud of nothing particularly
repaying their trouble, which they had picked up
in their interrupted saunter. Some of the
people of the château, and some of those of
the posting-house, and all the taxing authorities,
were armed more or less, and were crowded on
the other side of the little street in a purposeless
way, that was highly fraught with nothing.
Already, the mender of roads had penetrated into
the midst of a group of fifty particular friends,
and was smiting himself in the breast with his
blue cap. What did all this portend, and what
portended the swift hoisting-up of Monsieur
Gabelle behind a servant on horseback, and the
conveying away of the said Gabelle (double-laden
though the horse was), at a gallop, like a new
version of the German ballad of Leonora?

It portended that there was one stone face too
many, up at the château.

The Gorgon had surveyed the building again
in the night, and had added the one stone face
wanting; the stone face for which it had waited
through about two hundred years.

It lay back on the pillow of Monsieur the
Marquis. It was like a fine mask, suddenly
startled, made angry, and petrified. Driven
home into the heart of the stone figure attached
to it, was a knife. Round its hilt was a frill of
paper, on which was scrawled:

"Drive him fast to his tomb. This, from
JACQUES."

REVOLUTION AT FLORENCE, EXACTLY
                     DESCRIBED.

               I. THE PREPARATION.

IN Italy, war means hope; and, at the
beginning of the present year the celebrated words
of the French Emperor to the Austrian
Ambassador raised Italian hopes to seething point.
Young men of all classes began to flock towards
Piedmont in the hope of taking part in the
contest, which was now considered certain, and
which, it was hoped, would be a war of Italian
independence. Many of these young men
belonged to the upper and middle classes; but the
majority were, of course, from the largest class;
that which has no possessions but its labour.
And, for the purpose of assisting them to
perform the journey, a committee of Tuscan
gentlemen was formed. No volunteers were
accepted by this committee who did not
present certificates, showing that the bearer
had never offended against the law. Such
certificates are ordinarily granted by the proper
authorities in Tuscany to any asking for them.
But they cost five Pauls—rather more than two
shillings—and these five Pauls the volunteer,
applying for aid, was expected to have paid for
himself, as an earnest of the bonâ fide seriousness
of his intention. Then the necessary means
of reaching Genoa were supplied.

The Grand-Ducal Government also granted
passports for Piedmont to all who asked them,
without any difficulty. Moreover, papers which
have been found in the office of the late
Minister of the Interior show, that the Grand-
Duke had been for some time past accurately
informed of the state of the country by the various
provincial governors. It was in no wise
dissembled that the entire country was ripe for
revolution if alliance with Piedmont, in the coming
war, could be no other wise attained.

This exodus of volunteers continued on an
ever-increasing scale; and one or two incidents
occurred which show clearly enough the leaning
of the military, as well as of the popular mind.
A number of friends had accompanied one of
the volunteers of good social standing to the
railway station, and bade him adieu with
shouting and other hearty and noisy
demonstrations of feeling. Among these was a
lieutenant in the service of the Grand-Duke
Leopold. He was brought to court-martial for
this manifestation of his sentiments, and
acquitted. Again, a few days before the actual
breaking out of the war, a body, some twenty
soldiers, deserted, and got away with all their
arms and accoutrements to Piedmont.

From the beginning of the year a greater
degree of intimacy between the citizens and the
soldiers might have been observed than usual,
both in the rank of officers and of privates.
Those who are acquainted with the habits of
life in the cities of Italy, will understand how
spontaneously and easily this would be brought
about. No special appointments, no invitations
to this or the other house, would be necessary.
The universally frequented café would furnish
an ever-ready place of meeting. A cup of
coffee, an ice, or a "ponche," taken together,
would be sufficient to perfect a mutual
understanding; and—in a small city where everybody
knows everybody, and everybody sees everybody
at this or the other café every day—a very short
duration of this sort of companionship sufficed to
make the military and civil body perfectly
well understand and reciprocate their political
opinions and aspirations.

The same thing was going on in precisely the
same manner among the privates. The habits
of life differ much less in the different classes of
society in Italy than with our more formal,
stiffer, and richer selves. The artisans and
journeymen of the city were taking their coffee,
and their ices, and their "ponches," with the
privates; and, in answer to my searching
inquiries on this point, it was confessed (readily
enough) that, after such feasts of reason and
flows of soul, it did often occur that a party
of private soldiers were told by the waiter that
their reckoning had been mysteriously paid.
Those who know Italy and its native habits
well, will be aware how common this little