As usual, however, on the occasion of any great calamity, a crowd was scouring the streets, whose sole object was plunder. Having only seen him in the gloom of a dungeon, and loaded with fetters, Kneebone had not noticed this alteration: but he was now greatly struck by it. He was a manly man, free from any strong maternal strain, and he had loved his dark-eyed, dainty bright-colored, and active little wife with a real vein of passion in his sentiment. But perhaps I had better get a room in an hotel to-night and look round. He, who had faced the gale, would have been instantly stifled. Under another name,—not my own hateful one,—I will strive to distinguish myself in some foreign service, and win myself a reputation, or perish honourably. I hate this part of the world. Her father, Bartolomeo, was a well-respected member of the Arte di Calimala: the Wool Makers Guild in Mantua.
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