The Montgomery advertiser., 1908-03-29

cried one of the party.
 Some madmar, surely" said Tito.
 He hardly knew how the words had come to his lips. IL seemed to him that he had scarcely spoken before some magical poison had darted from Baldassarre's e.%s, and he felt 1t run ming through his veins. The next in- stant Baldassarre had disappeared in the church.
 Tito stumbled out of the thronE blindly. He knew that 1t was not in the passionate, fercely concentrated nature of Baldassarre to let an injury pass unrevenged. He regretted bitter- ly that he had said those fateful words. He saw that 1t would have been the wise course to recognize his foster father and pretend that he had thought him dead.
 But those words. Some Inadman, probably" seemed to leap forth like something suddenly begotten. Tito was experiencing that inexorable law of human souls that we prepare ourselves for sudden deeds by the reiterated choice Of good and evil that gradually determines character
 While he wandered through the hoi- iday streets with hideous fear clutch ing him, Baldasserre, with the rope still fast to him, stood in the crowded church and setared around bewildered. Suddenly he felt himself vibrating to church and stared around bewildered. the pulpit. It was Savonarola crying; "The day of vengeance is at hand!
 The cry was like an echo of his own passion. He quiyered and sobbed. He. listened with fearful exultation to every word of throat and terror that rang from the wonderful man. No other word touch ed him. He drove his long finger nails into his own palms.
 There were two in the great multi tude of hearers who looked at him with warm sympathy. One was Ro- mola. The other was the painter Piero tii Cosina who cut his bonds. thinking to himself: "A mysterious old tiger! Tito looked at him as If he were seeing a ghost"
 Four days later Romola was in the artists studio. She spied a small cam vas and gave a little cry. It was picture of Tito, with an awful fear in his face. staring at the man with the rope around him.
 saw that man in the church"
 Nothing said the painter He merely stumbled against your husbard in passing and I made a freakish sketch" He took the picture from her and turned it with its face to the wall.
 ttOmOla walked nOHSs Skfa4B6ly oY- pressed. At first she intended to ask Tito what 1t meant. But her heart told her that she dared not ask.
 Tito and she were steadily drifting further and further apart. despite her attempts to hold him. The Greek had attained official position of high rank and spent much of his time away from home. Her father had died. leaving behind him in Tito's hand the sacred trust that his grand library should be given to Florence. Tito seemed strangely indifferent despite all Ro- mols's entreaties to whom 1t was a solemn duty. She could not rest while her dead fath er's wish remained un- fulfilled.
 At last just after the French had left the city. Tito told her after much curcumlocution that he had sold the library to the Duke of Milan and the marbles to France.
 Romola listened as if she were turn ed to stone. She heard him rise after his confession and heard the great out CT door shut on him. Then, she went to her fathers chair and fell on her knees before 1t. sobbing.
 During the next few days she saw but little of her husband. Men came in to pack the books and manuscripts and she watched without a word When the last package had &one sh s called her servant and prepared to de. part forever. She wrote i@ktaF tA h@-