He stood perfectiy still; but the flash seemed to have whitened
him. He took no notice of fiomola's appeal, but after a
moment's pause, said quietiy, —

"Your impetuosity abimt trifles, Bomola, has afreemng
influence that would cool the baths of Nero." At these cutting
words, Bomola shrank and drew herself up into her usual self-
sustained attitude. Tito went on. " If by ' that old man' you
mean the mad Jacopo di Nola who attempted my life and
made a strange accusation against me, of which I told yoa



Digitized by VjOOQIC



OOUNTBB-OHBOK. 127

]iotiiingbe«MB« it wocdd haye alftrmed yoa to no purpose, he,
po<Hr wreteh, has died in prison. Isaw his name in tiie list of
dead/'

"I know noliking about his accusation," said Romola.
<<But I know he is the man ivhoin I saw with the rope round
his neck in the Duomo — the man whose portrait Piero di
Cosimo painted, grasping your arm as he saw him grasp it the
day tiie French pottered, the day you £r8t wore the annour.'*

<<And where is henow, pray?'* said Tito, still pale, but
gonreming himself.
