them; more than one swayed back stone dead as the bronze or gold missile of some statuary or amphora felled him to the ground. Forbidden to fire, they hesitated dismayed before that terrible band of revellers turned to warriors, of maskers changed to foemen, of idle laughing wits and dancers grown desperate as men who fought for more than life. The Royalists recoiled; they were chiefly the dross of various nations; they could not front the blazing glance, the tiger-swoop, the proud, passion-heated scorn, the fearless menace of Italian nobles and Italian patriots. From the gloom of the night without, the same clarion voice rolled, clear as a bell's, merciless as a Nero's.
"Cowards! perdition seize you. Advance and fire on them."
It was a strange battle-field;—the beautiful ballroom and banqueting-halls of Antina! It was a strange battle-scene!—the circle of the dominoes like a ring of many colours were belted round the form of Idalia like guards around their menaced queen; the dead men were lying with their blood slowly welling out over the rich mosaics and the velvet carpets; the soldiers of the Throne had halted in a broken line; the light that had been lit for the
