and bade him welcome.

"May we have a son as fair!" he whispered to Nina, who blushed, and
turned away.

"Thy name, my little friend?"

"Angelo Villani."

"A Tuscan name. There is a man of letters at Florence, doubtless writing
our annals from hearsay at this moment, called Villani. Perhaps akin to
thee?"

"I have no kin," said the boy, bluntly; "and therefore I shall the
better love the Signora and honour you, if you will let me. I am
Roman--all the Roman boys honour Rienzi."

"Do they, my brave lad?" said the Tribune, colouring with pleasure;
"that is a good omen of my continued prosperity." He put down the boy,
and threw himself on the cushions, while Nina placed herself on a kind
of low stool beside him.

"Let us be alone," said he; and Nina motioned to the attendant maidens
to withdraw.

"Take my new page with you," said she; "he is yet, perhaps, too fresh
from home to enjoy the company of his giddy brethren."

When they were alone, Nina proceeded to narrate to Rienzi the adventure
of the morning; but though he seemed outwardly to listen, his gaze