A guard of carabiniers, treacherously disobeying the orders which had been given them, were absent from the approach to the house where parliament assembled. The minister had reached the stairs, and was ascending when a group of conspirators came around him. At first they insulted him. Then one of the assassins struck him on the shoulder. As he turned indignantly towards this assassin, his neck was exposed to the poniard of another, who, availing himself of the opportune moment, dealt the fatal blow. The minister fell, bedewing with his blood the steps at the very threshold of the legislative chamber. As the details of the murder were related to the members, they remained ominously silent. Not one of them uttered a word in condemnation of this monstrous crime. They proceeded at once to the business of the day. Although in the open space at the foot of the stairs which led to the assembly hall the civic guard was stationed in arms, nobody arrested, or showed the slightest inclination to arrest, the murderer. On the contrary, the criminal was conducted, not only unpunished but in triumph, through the streets of the city by his accomplices. A new hymn was sung—“Blessed be the hand that slew Rossi.” The dagger of the assassin was enwreathed with flowers and exposed for public veneration in the _cafe_ of the Fine Arts. The populace, in the excess of their phrenzy, insulted the widow of the murdered minister; and, by an extravagance of irony, they required that she should illuminate her house. The newspapers expressed approval of the crime, as it was, they pretended, the necessary manifestation of the general sentiment. The whole people, by their silence, although not by actual participation in such demon-like rejoicings, declared themselves accomplices in the deed of blood.