“Very well, then.  Let us have a revolution.  But do not tell me that what I order is impossible.  I will have no impossibilities.  The town belongs to me, and it shall be inhabited by human beings, and not by pigs.  If you make difficulties, you may go.  I can find people to carry out my orders.  Begin and clean the streets to-day.  Take as many hands as you need and pay them full labourer’s wages, but see that they work.  Make a list of the pigs and their owners.  Decide where you will keep them.  Hire the swineherds.  If I find one pig in Muro a week from to-day, and if, in fine weather, I cannot walk dry shod where I please, I will take another steward.  I intend to remit a quarter of all the rents this year.  You may tell the people so.  You may go and see about these things at once, but let me hear no more of impossibilities.  Only children say that things are impossible.”

The man understood that the old order had departed and that Veronica Serra meant to be obeyed without question, and he never again raised his voice to suggest that there might be what he called a revolution if her orders were carried out.

As for the people of Muro, they were dumb with astonishment.  They had a municipality, of course, a syndic, and a secretary, and certain head men, to whose authority they were accustomed to appeal in everything—­generally against the extortion of the stewards who had obeyed Gregorio Macomer.  But before Veronica had been in Muro ten days, the municipality was nothing more than the shadow of a name.  The syndic was her tenant, and bowed down to her, and the rest of the illiterate officials followed his lead.  It was natural enough; for they all benefited by the lowering of the rents, and they were quick to see that she meant to spend money in the place, which would be to the advantage of every one before long.

It was she who made the revolution, and not they.  Before the first week was out the pigs were gone, and she walked dry shod over the stones from the castle to the entrance of the village.  In less than a month the principal way was levelled and half paved, and masons were everywhere at work repairing those of the houses which were in most immediate need of improvement.

“You are Christians,” she said to a little crowd that gathered round her one day, while she was watching the setting-up of a new door.  “You shall live like Christians.  When you have been clean for a month, you will never wish to be dirty again.”

“That is true,” answered an old man, shaking his head thoughtfully.  “But, in the name of God, who has ever thought of these things?  It needed this angel from Paradise.”

Veronica laughed.  They were docile people, and they soon found out that the young princess was as absolute a despot in character as ever terrorized Rome or ruled the Russias.  At the merest suggestion of opposition, the small aquiline nose seemed to quiver, the little head was thrown back, the brown eyes gleamed, the delicate gloved hand either closed upon itself quickly or went out in a gesture of command.