A little longer and she was in the quarter of Milan’s new rich, without the walls--amid dwellings of an architecture that in Rome, Florence or Turin produces much the same impression. Every portico gate was bolted, no fountains leaped in the courts, blinds were drawn at the windows; nowhere in any of the grand houses was there sign of life. She could see the Venetian Gate a short distance ahead; but between her and it rose a barrier of howling men and women that reached from side to side of the road save for a narrow breach through which the refugees passed. Over the heads of the crowd she caught the glitter of a line of bayonets, and drawing near she heard the jibes and maledictions that were poured upon the soldiers. She found that she could proceed no farther. An hour earlier the King had declared Milan in a state of siege. CHAPTER XXI A CALL TO SERVICE HERA found herself one of the hundreds of peaceful visitors shut out in company with the rabble that was eager to feed the furnace of rebellion. Awhile she sat her horse wondering what she might do to gain entrance to the city. There was no recourse but to make herself known to the guards and entreat them for leave to pass; and she was on the point of that appeal, which must have proved vain, when a burst of martial music and the acclaim a crowd gives marching men made her pause. She knew it must be the regiment of Colonel Rosario, and her heart leaped with gladness. First the plumes and shining brass of the musicians came into view, then the figure of her father’s old comrade at the head of his men. For a minute she watched the Bersaglieri wheel into the broad highway and swagger toward the town; but when she saw the column halt before all of it had made the turning she rode as fast as she could through the ruck of men and vehicles to the Colonel’s side. “Donna Hera!” the commander exclaimed, saluting her in military form and covering his amazement with a smile. “They will not let me go on,” she told him without ado. “And you are obliged to return to Villa Barbiondi to-night,” he added, as if comprehending. “That is a difficulty, to be sure, but one not insurmountable. For example, I will send Major Quaranta with you to the villa if you do not object.” “No, no!” she said, impulsively. “You are kind, but--oh, I cannot go back to-night. I must enter the city at once. It is an affair--of life and death.” Colonel Rosario was not the man to question when a lady--and the daughter of his life-long friend--spoke thus, although a king’s command and the wall of a besieged city stood between him and the attainment of her wish. “If you do not mind helping me lead the regiment,” he said, his eyes beaming, “we shall manage it.”