t me take breath."

As soon as he had breathed they immediately beset him with more
questions: "And after that? and the Vatican? and the pope?"

"I don't know. I cannot tell you how beautiful, how grand, how
wonderful, Rome was that evening. The night was transcendent, and there
was an illumination such as never was seen or imagined since the
creation of the world: the Corso appeared to be on fire. The churches
were full of people, and priests preaching; in the streets were music,
singing, dancing, citizens speaking to the people in the cafes and
theatres. I wished to see the Piazza di San Pietro once more. The rumor
had spread that His Holiness needed rest: Borgo Pio was as quiet as on
the quietest nights; the square was lit up by the moon; a silent crowd
was collected around the two fountains and on the steps: some were
seated on the ground, some lying down; a great many of them, those most
overcome by the fatigue and excitement of the day, were asleep--women,
soldiers and children promiscuously; hundreds of people kneeling, and
here and there sentinels of every corps with little flags and crosses
tied to the barrels of their guns. The ground was strewn with banners,
with leaves and flowers, and hats that had been lost in the tumult. The
windows of the Vatican were illuminated; not a voice was to be heard;
all these people seemed to be holding their breath. I left there
excited, exalted, thinking over everything I had seen--of the effect
that the news would produce on Italy, on the world, on all of you--more
particularly on you, papa. I found myself at the station almost before I
was aware: there was a confusion, a deafening noise. I stepped into a
train, started off, and here I am. The news had arrived last evening in
Florence: they told me it created a furore; the king had left; the news
is already spread over the whole world."

At this point he sank into a low chair and stopped short, as if he had
no more breath in his body.

* * * * *

The newspapers, which should have arrived at the villa by noon, did not
come, so that the family retained their pleasant illusion until evening.
The dinner was animated, the young man continued to jumble detail on
detail, and the mother and family rapture on rapture, blessing on
blessing, when suddenly they heard a hasty foot on the steps, and then a
noisy ring at the bell. Presently the door opened, and a tall, dried-up
priest, with a livid face