To overthrow a Government, to disturb the settled foundations of a State, were, to his thinking, a species of _inconvenance_ that savored of intense vulgarity; and he classified such anarchists with men who would like to smash the lamps, tear down the hangings, and destroy the decorations of a _salon_ in which they were asked to pass the evening, preferring to sit down amid ruin and wreck rather than eat their supper at a well-ordered and well-furnished board. To Jekyl's eyes it was a very nice world as it was, if people would only let it alone. “A world of bright eyes and soft tresses and white shoulders, with Donizetti's music and Moët's champagne, was not to be despised, after all.” He had no sympathies, therefore, with these disturbers; but he was too well bred ever to oppose himself to the wishes of the company, and so he seemed to concur with what he could not prevent. He could have wished that the Italians would take a lesson from the Swiss, who only revolt when there is nothing else to do, and never take to cutting each other's throats during the season when there are travellers to be cheated; “but, perhaps,” said he, “they will soon get enough of it, and learn that their genius lies more in ballets and bonbons than in bombs and rockets.” Of such various hopes and feelings were the party made up who now awaited D'Esmonde's presence at the supper-table. It was past midnight, and they had been expecting him with impatience for above an hour back. Twice had the canonico fallen asleep, and started up with terror at what he called a “fantasma di fame.” Jekyl had eaten sardines and oysters till he was actually starving. Lady Hester was fidgety and fretful, as waiting always made her; while Norwood walked from the room to the terrace, and out upon the grass to listen, uneasy lest any mischance should have befallen one who was so deeply involved in their confidences. “It is but three or four and twenty miles to Milan,” muttered Norwood; “he might easily have been here by this.” “The road is infested with banditti,” growled out the padre. “Banditti!” said Norwood, contemptuously. But whether the sneer was intended for the cut-throats' courage, or the folly of men who would expect any booty from a priest, is hard to say; clearly the padre took it in the latter sense, for he rejoined,----