“That is an affair easily concluded,” replied Montreal.  “For me, to tell you frankly, the glory and excitement of so great a revulsion would alone suffice.  I like to feel myself necessary to the completion of high events.  For my men it is otherwise.  Your first act will be to seize the revenues of the state.  Well, whatever they amount to, the product of the first year, great or small, shall be divided amongst us.  You the one half, I and my men the other half.”

“It is much,” said Rienzi, gravely, and as if in calculation,—­“but Rome cannot purchase her liberties too dearly.  So be it then decided.”

“Amen!—­and now, then, what is your force? for these eighty or a hundred signors of the Aventine,—­worthy men, doubtless,—­scarce suffice for a revolt!”

Gazing cautiously round the room, the Roman placed his hand on Montreal’s arm—­

“Between you and me, it requires time to cement it.  We shall be unable to stir these five weeks.  I have too rashly anticipated the period.  The corn is indeed cut, but I must now, by private adjuration and address, bind up the scattered sheaves.”

“Five weeks,” repeated Montreal; “that is far longer than I anticipated.”

“What I desire,” continued Rienzi, fixing his searching eyes upon Montreal, “is, that, in the meanwhile, we should preserve a profound calm,—­we should remove every suspicion.  I shall bury myself in my studies, and convoke no more meetings.”

“Well—­”

“And for yourself, noble Knight, might I venture to dictate, I would pray you to mix with the nobles—­to profess for me and for the people the profoundest contempt—­and to contribute to rock them yet more in the cradle of their false security.  Meanwhile, you could quietly withdraw as many of the armed mercenaries as you influence from Rome, and leave the nobles without their only defenders.  Collecting these hardy warriors in the recesses of the mountains, a day’s march from hence, we may be able to summon them at need, and they shall appear at our gates, and in the midst of our rising—­hailed as deliverers by the nobles, but in reality allies with the people.  In the confusion and despair of our enemies at discovering their mistake, they will fly from the city.”

“And its revenues and its empire will become the appanage of the hardy soldier and the intriguing demagogue!” cried Montreal, with a laugh.

“Sir Knight, the division shall be equal.”

“Agreed!”

“And now, noble Montreal, a flask of our best vintage!” said Rienzi, changing his tone.

“You know the Provencals,” answered Montreal, gaily.

The wine was brought, the conversation became free and familiar, and Montreal, whose craft was acquired, and whose frankness was natural, unwittingly committed his secret projects and ambition more nakedly to Rienzi than he had designed to do.  They parted apparently the best of friends.

“By the way,” said Rienzi, as they drained the last goblet.  “Stephen Colonna betakes him to Corneto, with a convoy of corn, on the 19th.  Will it not be as well if you join him?  You can take that opportunity to whisper discontent to the mercenaries that accompany him on his mission, and induce them to our plan.”