l
see them congregated around your throne in your hour of need, ready to
die: one word, Holy Father, and these swords, these breasts, this blood,
are yours. They implore your blessing upon the country. Remember, Holy
Father, your sublime cry.'--A window of the Vatican opened."

All seized the young man by the arm without saying a word.

"The song ceased, the cries were hushed: there was silence. There was
not a living soul at the window. During a few moments the very breath of
the multitude seemed suspended. Something like a shadow moved past the
window, but inside, far back, and then disappeared. There seemed to be
people passing to and fro, and a confusion within. All faces, all eyes,
were fixed motionless on the spot. Suddenly the whole multitude, as if
inspired at the same moment, pointed to the palace; thousands of women
held up the children; the soldiers swung their caps on their bayonets;
all banners were waved; a hundred thousand voices burst forth in one
tremendous shout: 'Viva! viva! viva!' At the window of the Vatican
something was seen fluttering, moving, shining, all at once floating in
the air.--Great Heavens!" exclaimed the young man, throwing himself on
his mother's neck, "it was the Italian flag!"

It would be impossible to describe the delight, the joy, the enthusiasm
of those worthy people. The young man had spoken with so much fervor, he
had become so enamored of his own deception, that by degrees he had
finally ceased to be aware of the fact that he was inventing, and truly
his eyes were moist and his voice trembled. However, not the shadow of a
suspicion had crossed the minds of his parents and sisters. They
embraced each other, laughed and wept. From how many scruples, how many
grievous conflicts between Italian hearts and Catholic consciences, did
they find themselves released! The reconciliation between Church and
State! The dream of so many years! What peace of mind henceforward!
What a beautiful life of love and concord! What free, secure repose!

"Heaven be praised!" exclaimed the mother, dropping into a low chair,
exhausted by excitement.

And then again they all rushed around the young man, one seizing his
hand, another pulling him by the coat: "Is it really true?"--"Is it not
a dream?"--"Speak!"--"Go on: tell us about everything--the pope--the
crowd--what happened."

"What followed?" resumed the young man in a fatigued voice. "To tell you
the truth, I don't know myself: I don't remem