“It is old Horapollo.  He is taking the laurel-crown off his wig!—­Alexander is going to speak.”

She was interrupted by another trumpet call, and immediately after a loud, manly voice was heard from the Curia, while the silence was so profound that even the widow and her daughter lost very little of the speech which followed: 

“Fellow-citizens, Memphites, and comrades in misfortune,” the president began in slow, ringing tones, “you know what the sufferings are which we all share.  There is not a woe that has not befallen us, and even worse loom before us.”

The crowd expressed their agreement by a fearful outcry, but they were reduced to silence by the sound of the tuba, and the speaker went on: 

“We, the Senate, the fathers of the city, whom you have entrusted with the care of your persons and your welfare. . .”

At this point he was interrupted by wild yells, and cries could be distinguished of:  “Then take care of us—­do your duty!”

“Money bags!”

“Keep your pledge!”

“Save us from destruction!”

The trumpet call, however, again silenced them, and the speaker went on, almost beside himself with vehement excitement.

“Hearken!  Do not interrupt me!  The dearth and misery fall on our heads as much as on yours.  My own wife and son died of the plague last night!”

At this only a low murmur ran through the crowd, and it died away of its own accord as the dignified old man on the balcony wiped his eyes and went on: 

“If there is a single man among you who can prove us guilty of neglect—­a man, woman, or child—­let him accuse us before God, before our new ruler the Khaliff, and yourselves, the citizens of Memphis; but not now, my fellow-sufferers, not now!  At this time cease your cries and lamentations; now when rescue is in sight.  Listen to me, and let us know what you feel with regard to the last and uttermost means of deliverance which I now come to propose to you.”

“Silence!  Hear him!  Down with the noisy ones!” was heard on all sides, and the orator went on: 

“We, as Christians, in the first instance addressed ourselves to our Father in Heaven, to our one and only divine Redeemer, and to His Holy Church to aid us; and I ask you:  Has there been any lack of prayers, processions, pilgrimages, and pious gifts?  No, no, my beloved fellow-citizens!  Each one be my witness—­certainly not!  But Heaven has remained blind and deaf and dumb in sight of our need, yea as though paralyzed.  And yet no; not indeed paralyzed, for it has been powerful and swift to move only to heap new woes upon us.  Not a thing that human foresight and prudence could devise or execute has remained untried.