Without hesitating, the negro laid the sum of 3,000 lire in bank-notes on the window and put the tickets in his pocket. Thereupon he drew his arm under that of the impresario and pointed to the stage.

"I do not understand," stammered Salvani. "You want to go on the stage?"

"Yes."

"Then follow me."

Salvani walked down a small stairway and soon stood, with the negro, on the dimly lighted stage. The Nubian walked in front of the prompter's box and pointed so expressively toward the parterre and the parquet, that the impresario at once knew what he wanted.

"You want to buy the rest of the seats unsold?" he hastily asked.

"Yes."

"The places cost originally five, four and three lire."

"Yes."

"Well, I would be a fool if I did not take a hand in."

Before the Nubian had departed, he had purchased all of the seats still to be had, for the round sum of 6,000 lire, and with head proudly erect he strode through the streets.

When Ticellini appeared, Salvani triumphantly pointed to the pile of bank-notes, and when the maestro anxiously remarked that he thought it must be a trick of one of his rivals to ruin him, the impresario coolly said:

"Ticellini, would you be able to raise 6,000 lire to annihilate Gioberto and Palmerelli?"

The composer was silent. This kind of logic convinced him.

When the eventful evening came, the Scala looked magnificent.

For the first time since the Austrian occupation, all the aristocratic ladies appeared in full dress. Salvani, as well as the maestro, looked wonderingly at the audience. Very soon, however, their wonder changed to curiosity, for the toilets of the ladies were arranged in a peculiar way. Some were dressed entirely in green satin, with green leaves in their hair; others wore red satin, with red roses, and others again white satin and white flowers; and then the ladies were grouped together in such a way that the tricolor green, white and red always appeared. Ticellini was a patriot from head to foot, and his heart beat loudly when he saw the Italian tricolor.

What could it all mean? A revolution? That would destroy all chances of the success of his opera, but Ticellini did not think of himself, when the fatherland was in question, and he enthusiastically hummed the first lines of the national hymn:

_"Chi per la patria muore_ _Vessuto ha a.s.sai!"_

(He who has died for his country has lived long enough.)

The parquet and balcony were filled with students, and only one proscenium box was still empty.

A murmur ran through the theatre; the door of the proscenium box was opened and three persons entered it.

A tall, majestic man, whose dark locks inclosed a pale face, led a lady of extraordinary beauty. He was dressed in a frock suit, the lady in purple silk, with a white sash. A diadem of sparkling emeralds ornamented the finely shaped head, and on her neck and arms diamonds of the purest water shone.

A remarkably handsome child, a boy about eight or nine years, took a seat between the lady and gentleman, and it only needed a casual look upon the features of the youth to recognize him as the son of the pair.

The box just opposite to them was Radetzky's, and was occupied by his adjutant. Observant of everything which looked like a manifestation or a demonstration, they threw threatening glances at the color constellation, and the confidant of Radetzky immediately sent for Salvani.

The impresario appeared, excited and trembling. Suppose the adjutant should forbid the performance?

"What does this mean?" the officer angrily exclaimed. "Have you noticed the three colors?"

"Your Excellency, I--"

"Well, are you going to answer me?"

"Will your excellency condescend to take a look over the house--"

At the same moment, as Salvani had entered the box, the gentleman in the opposite box had arisen and placed a light blue band over the lady's shoulders. Simultaneously all the other ladies in the house threw sashes over their shoulders; yellow, blue, black, and brown were the colors which met the astonished gaze of the adjutant, and he grumblingly said:

"Wait, _canaille_, I will not be deceived."

Salvani had hurriedly left. The first notes of the overture ran through the house, and loud applause was heard. This time, too, the gentleman in the proscenium box gave the signal for the applause, but no one appeared to notice it.

Ticellini hurried to La Luciola's dressing-room. The diva was already dressed for her part, and looked so transcendently beautiful that the maestro held his breath.

"Well, maestro," said the diva, laughing, "do I please you, and do you think the opera will be a success?"

"Oh, signora, I have never doubted it, since you consented to take the part of Marguerite."

A dark form came from the rear of the dressing-room, and the Marquis Aslitta went toward Ticellini.

"Let me congratulate you, maestro," he cordially said, offering Ticellini his hand.

Ticellini hesitated before he took it. Aslitta was looked upon in Milan as a renegade, and therefore Ticellini was very glad when he was called away. Bidding good-by to the diva, he hurried back to the stage, and Aslitta remained alone with Luciola.

"Giorgio," whispered Luciola, giving the marquis her hand, "the eventful hour has arrived."

"Thanks, my darling," murmured the young man; "you are staking your existence to save my country--a whole life would not suffice to reward you."

Luciola threw herself into the outstretched arms of Aslitta.

"You love me, Giorgio?"

"Dearly; you are my G.o.ddess, my all."

"Oh, Giorgio; nothing shall be too difficult for me to do for you. But go now, the time has come."

"And you have forgotten nothing, and will observe the sign?"

"Be easy, I will think of everything."

"Then farewell; have courage."

"And hope," added Luciola, kissing Aslitta.

At this moment a heavy hand was laid upon Aslitta's shoulder, and a clear voice said:

"Marquis, you should have closed the door."