CHAPTER XXVIII
A month afterwards Marshall announced that he intended to pay a
visit.
'I am going,' he said, 'to see Mazzini. Who will go with me?'
Clara and Madge were both eager to accompany him. Mrs Caffyn and Mrs
Marshall chose to stay at home.
'I shall ask Cohen to come with us,' said Marshall. 'He has never
seen Mazzini and would like to know him.' Cohen accordingly called
one Sunday evening, and the party went together to a dull, dark,
little house in a shabby street of small shops and furnished
apartments. When they knocked at Mazzini's door Marshall asked for
Mr --- for, even in England, Mazzini had an assumed name which was
always used when inquiries were made for him. They were shown
upstairs into a rather mean room, and found there a man, really about
forty, but looking older. He had dark hair growing away from his
forehead, dark moustache, dark beard and a singularly serious face.
It was not the face of a conspirator, but that of a saint, although
without that just perceptible touch of silliness which spoils the
faces of most saints. It was the face of a saint of the Reason, of a
man who could be ecstatic for rational ideals, rarest of all
endowments. It was the face, too, of one who knew no fear, or, if he
knew it, could crush it. He was once concealed by a poor woman whose
house was surrounded by Austrian soldiers watching for him.
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