. . he could not see--he stumbled forward blindly, and would
have fallen, had not a strong arm caught him and held him upright.
He turned a dazed and wondering look on the man whose friendly grasp
supported him,--then, with an exclamation, made a trembling attempt
to raise his hat.
"Il Re!" he murmured feebly--"Il Re!"
King Humbert--for it was he--held him still more closely.
"Courage, amico!" he said kindly--"Courage!--yes--yes!--I know--I
have heard the news! All Italy will give you vengeance for your
child! We will spare no pains to discover her murderer. But now--you
are ill--you are weary--do not try to speak--come with me! Let me
take you home--come!"
A great sob broke from the old man's breast as he yielded to his
Sovereign's imperative yet gentle guidance, and before he could
realize the situation, he was in the King's own carriage, with the
King beside him, being rapidly driven back to his own house. Arrived
at the Palazzo Sovrani, a strange sight greeted them. The great
porte-cochere was wide open, and, pressing through it, and
surrounding the stately building at every point was a vast crowd,--
densely packed and almost absolutely silent. Quite up to the inner
portico these waiting thousands pressed,--though, as they recognised
the Royal liveries, they did their best to make immediate way, and a
low murmur arose "Evviva il Re!" But there was no loud shouting, and
the continued hush was more distinctly recognisable than the murmur.
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