The Commandant looked doubtful. The others impassive. Buttons and Dick interested. The Senator calm. Again the Commandant turned to the Senator, his remarks being interpreted as before. "How does it happen that you were so particularly intimate with all the Revolutionists in Florence, and an habitué of _La Cica_'s salon? that your mission was well known throughout the city? That you publicly acknowledged the Florentine rebellion in a speech? that the people carried you home in triumph? and that immediately before leaving you received private instructions from _La Cica_?" "To your questions," said the Senator, with unabated dignity, "I will reply in brief: _First_, I am a free and independent citizen of the great and glorious American Republic. If I associated with Revolutionists in Florence, I did so because I am accustomed to choose my own society, and not to recognize any law or any master that can forbid my doing so. I deny, however, that I was in any way connected with plots, rebellions, or conspiracies. _Secondly_, I was friendly with the Countess because I considered her a most remarkably fine woman, and because she showed a disposition to be friendly with me--a stranger in a strange land. _Thirdly_, I have no mission of any kind whatever. I am a traveller for self-improvement. I have no business political or commercial. So that my mission could not have been known. If people talked about me they talked nonsense. _Fourthly_, I confess I made a speech, but what of that? It's not the first time, by a long chalk. I don't know what you mean by 'acknowledging.' As a private citizen I congratulated them on their success, and would do so again. If a crowd calls on me for a speech, I'm thar! The people of Florence dragged me home in a carriage. Well, I don't know why they did so. I can't help it if people will take possession of me and pull me about. _Fifthly_, and lastly, I had an interview with the Countess, had I? Well, is it wrong for a man to bid good-bye to a friend? I ask you, what upon earth do you mean by such a charge as that? Do you take me for a puling infant?" "On that occasion," said the Commandant, "she taught you some mysterious words which were to be repeated among the Revolutionists here." "Never did any thing of the kind. That's a complete full-blown fiction." "I have the very words." "That's impossible. You've got hold of the wrong man I see." "I will have them read," said the General, solemnly. And he beckoned to the Interpreter. Whereupon the Interpreter gravely took out a formidable roll of papers from his breast, and opened it. Every gesture was made as though his hand was heavy with the weight of crushing proof. At last a paper was produced. The Interpreter took one look at the prisoner, then glanced triumphantly at the Consul, and said: