ng.

It was, first and foremost, a full band of martial music, reverberating,
in that narrow and confined though stately avenue, between the walls of
the lofty palaces, and roaring upward to the sky with melody so powerful
that it almost grew to discord. Next came a body of cavalry and mounted
gendarmes, with great display of military pomp. They were escorting a
long train of equipages, each and all of which shone as gorgeously as
Cinderella's coach, with paint and gilding. Like that, too, they were
provided with coachmen of mighty breadth, and enormously tall footmen,
in immense powdered wigs, and all the splendor of gold-laced, three
cornered hats, and embroidered silk coats and breeches. By the
old-fashioned magnificence of this procession, it might worthily have
included his Holiness in person, with a suite of attendant Cardinals,
if those sacred dignitaries would kindly have lent their aid to heighten
the frolic of the Carnival. But, for all its show of a martial escort,
and its antique splendor of costume, it was but a train of the municipal
authorities of Rome,--illusive shadows, every one, and among them a
phantom, styled the Roman Senator,--proceeding to the Capitol.

The riotous interchange of nosegays and confetti was partially
suspended, while the procession passed. One well-directed shot,
however,--it was a double handful of powdered lime, flung by an impious
New Englander,--hit the coachman of the Roman Senator full in the face,
and hurt his dignity amazingly. It appeared to be his opinion that the
Republic was again crumbling into ruin, and that the dust of it now
filled his nostrils; though, in fact, it would hardly be distinguished
from the official powder with which he was already plentifully bestrewn.

While the sculptor, with his dreamy eyes, was taking idle note of this
trifling circumstance, two figures passed before him, hand in hand. The
countenance of each was covered with an impenetrable black mask; but one
seemed a peasant of the Campagna; the other, a contadina in her holiday
costume.

CHAPTER XLIX

A FROLIC OF THE CARNIVAL

The crowd and confusion, just at that moment, hindered the sculptor from
pursuing these figures,--the peasant and contadina,--who, indeed, were
but two of a numerous tribe that thronged the Corso, in similar costume.
As soon as he could squeeze a passage, Kenyon tried to follow in their
footsteps, but quickly lost sight of them, and was thrown off the tr