He walked in trepidation, speechless, and when interrogated on the height his eyes flew across the angry visages with dismal uncertainty.

Agostino perceived that he had undoubtedly not expected to come among them, and forthwith began to excite Giulio and Marco to the worst suspicions, in order to indulge his royal poetic soul with a study of a timorous wretch pushed to anticipations of extremity.
"The execution of a spy," he preluded, "is the signal for the ringing of joy-bells on this earth; not only because he is one of a pestiferous excess, in point of numbers, but that he is no true son of earth.

He escaped out of hell's doors on a windy day, and all that we do is to puff out a bad light, and send him back.

Look at this fellow in whom conscience is operating so that he appears like a corked volcano! You can see that he takes Austrian money; his skin has got to be the exact colour of Munz.

He has the greenish-yellow eyes of those elective, thrice-abhorred vampyres who feed on patriot-blood.