Those infernal clericals; their
sanguinary, out-of-date methods! Papacy and Camorra--interconvertible
terms--who could plumb their depths? The Masons were different. They
fought for the enlightenment of a people deluded by priestly snares and
intimidated by the threats of assassins. Don Giustino. Holy Mother of
God! What would to-morrow bring?
Thinking thus, the judge eyed his victuals resentfully. His appetite
was gone--he was beginning to feel sick. Suddenly he pushed his plate
away from him and hobbled out of the room, even forgetting to finish
his wine. He limped across the broiling market-place to give the
necessary orders to his faithful and experienced clerk who, having
likewise got wind of that telegram, was not unprepared for some change
of mind on the part of his chief.
"The young idiot must come up for trial to-morrow, if the assassin
arrives."
"A sound suggestion," the grey-haired one replied. "It will take the
wind out of his sails. It will prove--"
"Of course it will.
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