A middle-aged spinster literally flung herself towards the young man, and, clasping her hands, exclaimed: "Oh! how grateful we are to you! Oh! what a saint! I don't know what prevented us from rushing in and embracing him!" "_Cara!_ My good creature!" said another with the quiet irony of the Venetian, her fine large eyes sparkling.

"It was probably because the door was locked, fortunately for him!" The ladies were twelve in number.

The master of the house, Professor Guarnacci, son of the general-agent of one of them--the Marchesa Fermi, a Roman--had spoken to her about the meeting which was to take place at his house, and had mentioned the discourse to be pronounced by that strange personage about whom all Rome was already talking, knowing him as an enthusiastic religious agitator and miracle worker, most popular in the Testaccio district.

The Marchesa was determined to hear him without being seen.

She had arranged everything with Guarnacci, and had admitted three or four friends into the conspiracy, each in her turn obtaining permission to introduce others.