Nor was there any account of the doings of La Ferita, the woman of the scarred face, who shook her fist at Tarsis. Before he came from the church she had annoyed the Civil Guards by crying out: “Joy to the bridegroom! Death to the children in his factories!” The guards gave her a final warning, which she understood; and when Tarsis passed by her tongue was stilled, but the long scar glowed and her eyes looked savage hatred. Tarsis saw the woman shaking her fist at him, and so did Hera. In after days he was aware of that face, with its deep red mark running across one eyelid from forehead to cheekbone. Another detail overlooked or purposely omitted by the conservative press was the low muttering against the bridegroom that sounded here and there in the crowd. The nuptial cortege started for the railway station. In Corso Vittorio Emanuele it passed a café where a youthful artist, in satirical mood, was amusing some comrades with his pencil. He threw off a cartoon of the wedding. It depicted the bridegroom receiving a blow on the nose from the brawny fist of a workman; and in the place of blood there flowed--gold pieces! The editor of a revolutionary journal picked it up, and while the merry breakfast at the villa was in progress the thing circulated, filling many of the Milanese with delight and moving others to indignation. Tarsis and his bride set off for Paris by the night express. The station master at Milan greeted them as they alighted from the train that bore them from the Brianza, and with many a bow and smile conducted them to the private car in which they were to travel as only the King and the Queen travel in Italy. The ceremonious tribute of the conductor and the guards as they passed along the platform tickled the vanity of Tarsis in no small degree. To the keen eye his manner betrayed the pride he felt in this public display of his husbandship to the beautiful daughter of the aristocracy who walked by his side.