The original party had been considerably augmented by the arrival of Attilio and his followers, as well as by those of the Roman soldiers who had resolved to serve the priest no longer, not to mention certain youths from the capital, who, having heard of the victory won by the Liberals, determined forthwith to join them. They now numbered sixty individuals, without counting the women, while Orazio's authority over his band was increased rather than lessened by this addition, and Attilio, although at the head of the Roman party, and commander of the "Three Hundred," showed the greatest fidelity in obeying the orders of his brave and warlike brother in arms. Orazio divided his little army into four companies, under the command of Attilio, Muzio, Silvio, and Emilio the antiquary. The latter had been second in command before the advent of the chief of the Three Hundred, but made it a point of honor to yield this post to him. A generous dispute ensued, which would never have ended, had not Orazio persuaded Attilio to accept the first command, and assigned the second to Emilio. Such was the disinterestedness of these champions of Rome's liberty. "Freedom for Rome or death!" was their motto. Little did they care for grades, distinctions, or decorations, which they indeed held as instruments used by despotism to corrupt one half of the nation, and humiliate and hold in bondage the other half. CHAPTER XXXVII. THE ANTIQUARY It was Easter Eve. Every thing in the antique monument was in readiness for the siege, and those of the band who were not on duty were assembled with Orazio and the ladies in the spacious dining-hall. After a truly Homeric supper, which was enlivened by some patriotic toasts, Emilio the antiquary, who desired to put them on their guard against any contretemps that might arise, asked permission of his commander to speak a few words. Consent being given, Emilio began thus:- "As we shall soon have to take refuge in the subterranean passages, I wish, by way of precaution, to narrate a circumstance that happened to me a few years ago in the vicinity of Rome. You all remember the superb mausoleum of Cecilia Metella, erected by a Roman patrician in honor of his daughter, who died in her twelfth year.