Romola’s face lost its dubious expression; she asked eagerly—
“And when is it to be made?”
“It has not yet been granted; but it may be granted.
The Special Council is to meet again on the twenty-first to deliberate whether the Appeal shall be allowed or not. In the meantime there is an interval of three days, in which chances may occur in favour of the prisoners—in which interest may be used on their behalf.”
Romola started from her seat. The colour had risen to her face like a visible thought, and her hands trembled. In that moment her feeling towards Tito was forgotten.
“Possibly,” said Tito, also rising, “your own intention may have anticipated what I was going to say. You are thinking of the Frate.”
“I am,” said Romola, looking at him with surprise. “Has he done anything? Is there anything to tell me?”
“Only this. It was Messer Francesco Valori’s bitterness and violence which chiefly determined the course of things in the council today. Half the men who gave in their opinion against the prisoners were frightened into it, and there are numerous friends of Fra Girolamo both in this Special Council and out of it who are strongly opposed to the sentence of death—Piero Guicciardini, for example, who is one member of the Signoria that made the stoutest resistance; and there is Giovan Battista Ridolfi, who, Piagnone as he is, will not lightly forgive the death of his brother Niccolò.”
“But how can the Appeal be denied,” said Romola, indignantly, “when it is the law—when it was one of the chief glories of the popular government to have passed the law?”