This done, find out the councillor, Pandulfo di Guido, and bid him seek me here ere the crowd assemble." He then, making the sentinel doff his heavy shoes of iron, led him across the church, resigned Rodolf to his care, saw them depart, and in a few minutes afterwards his voice was heard by the inmates of the neighbouring chapel; and he was soon surrounded by his train.
He was already standing on the floor, wrapped in a large gown lined with furs; and his piercing eye scanned carefully the face of each man that approached.

Two of the Barons of the Frangipani family exhibited some tokens of confusion and embarrassment, from which they speedily recovered at the frank salutation of the Tribune.
But all the art of Savelli could not prevent his features from betraying to the most indifferent eye the terror of his soul;--and, when he felt the penetrating gaze of Rienzi upon him, he trembled in every joint.
Rienzi alone did not, however, seem to notice his disorder; and when Vico di Scotto, an old knight, from whose hands he received his sword, asked him how he had passed the night, he replied, cheerfully-- "Well, well--my brave friend! Over a maiden knight some good angel always watches.

Signor Luca di Savelli, I fear you have slept but ill: you seem pale.

No matter!--our banquet today will soon brighten the current of your gay blood." "Blood, Tribune!" said di Scotto, who was innocent of the plot: "Thou sayest blood, and lo! on the floor are large gouts of it not yet dry." "Now, out on thee, old hero, for betraying my awkwardness! I pricked myself with my own dagger in unrobing.

Thank Heaven it hath no poison in its blade!" The Frangipani exchanged looks,--Luca di Savelli clung to a column for support,--and the rest of the attendants seemed grave and surprised.
"Think not of it, my masters," said Rienzi: "it is a good omen, and a true prophecy.