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In the tall and barrack-like houses candles
gleamed in honor of Masaniello. The streets that led away towards the
city's heart were decorated with arches of little lamps, with columns
and chains of lights, and the pedestrians passing through them looked
strangely black in this great frame of fire. From the Piazza before
the Carmine the first rocket rose, and, exploding, showered its golden
rain upon the picture of the Virgin.
"Perhaps they have gone back into the Piazza."
Hermione spoke after a long silence, during which they had searched in
vain. Artois stood still and looked down at her. His face was very
stern.
"We sha'n't find them," he said.
"In this crowd, of course, it is difficult, but--"
"We sha'n't find them."
"At any rate, Gaspare is with them."
"How do you know that?"
The expression in his face frightened her.
"But you said you were sure--"
"Panacci was too clever for us; he may have been too clever for
Gaspare."
Hermione was silent for a moment.


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