n English photograph, certainly, but the face seems to me Roman for
all that."

At that moment a thousand lusty voices burst on the air, as a great
crowd came pouring out of the narrow lanes into the broad piazza. At
the same instant the boy shouted from the adjoining room, and another
voice that made the walls vibrate came from the direction of the door.

"They're coming! It's my husband! Bruno!" said the woman, and the ripple
of her dress told the stranger she had gone.

III

Laughing, crying, cheering, chaffing, singing, David Rossi's people had
brought him home in triumph, and now they were crowding upon him to kiss
his hand, the big-hearted, baby-headed, beloved children of Italy.

The object of this aurora of worship stood with his back to the table in
the dining-room, looking down and a little ashamed, while Bruno Rocco,
six feet three in his stockings, hoisted the boy on to his shoulder, and
shouted as from a tower to everybody as they entered by the door:

"Come in, sonny, come in! Don't stand there like the Pope between the
devil and the deep sea. Come in among the people," and Bruno's laughter
rocked through the room to where the crowd stood thick on the staircase.

"The Baron has had a lesson," said a man with a sheet of white paper in
his hand. "He dreamed of getting the Collar of the Annunziata out of
this."

"The pig dreamed of acorns," said Bruno.

"It's a lesson to the Church as well," said the man with the paper. "She
wouldn't have anything to do with us. 'I alone strike the hour of the
march,' says the Church."

"And then she stands still!" said Bruno.

"The mountains stand still, but men are made to walk," said the man with
the paper, "and if the Pope doesn't advance with the people, the people
must advance without the Pope."

"The Pope's all right, sonny," said Bruno, "but what does he know about
the people? Only what his black-gowned beetles tell him!"

"The Pope has no wife and children," said the man with the paper.

"Old Vampire could find him a few," said Bruno, and then there was
general laughter.

"Brothers," said David Rossi, "let us be temperate. There's nothing to
be gained by playing battledore and shuttlecock with the name of an old
man who has never done harm to any one. The Pope hasn't listened to us
to-day, but he is a saint all the same, and his life has been a lesson
in well-doing."

"Anybody can sail with a fair wind, sir," said