nd thus the children had the best view.
The Monte Pincio seemed a vast amphitheatre filled with spectators; the
balconies of the two churches at the corner of the Via del Babuino and
the Via di Ripetta were crammed; the steps even seemed a parti-colored
sea, that was impelled towards the portico; every niche in the wall
held its living statue. What the count said was true--the most curious
spectacle in life is that of death. And yet, instead of the silence and
the solemnity demanded by the occasion, laughter and jests arose from
the crowd. It was evident that the execution was, in the eyes of the
people, only the commencement of the Carnival. Suddenly the tumult
ceased, as if by magic, and the doors of the church opened. A
brotherhood of penitents, clothed from head to foot in robes of gray
sackcloth, with holes for the eyes, and holding in their hands lighted
tapers, appeared first; the chief marched at the head. Behind the
penitents came a man of vast stature and proportions. He was naked, with
the exception of cloth drawers at the left side of which hung a large
knife in a sheath, and he bore on his right shoulder a heavy iron
sledge-hammer. This man was the executioner. He had, moreover, sandals
bound on his feet by cords. Behind the executioner came, in the order
in which they were to die, first Peppino and then Andrea. Each was
accompanied by two priests. Neither had his eyes bandaged. Peppino
walked with a firm step, doubtless aware of what awaited him. Andrea was
supported by two priests. Each of them, from time to time, kissed the
crucifix a confessor held out to them. At this sight alone Franz felt
his legs tremble under him. He looked at Albert--he was as white as his
shirt, and mechanically cast away his cigar, although he had not half
smoked it. The count alone seemed unmoved--nay, more, a slight color
seemed striving to rise in his pale cheeks. His nostrils dilated like
those of a wild beast that scents its prey, and his lips, half opened,
disclosed his white teeth, small and sharp like those of a jackal. And
yet his features wore an expression of smiling tenderness, such as Franz
had never before witnessed in them; his black eyes especially were full
of kindness and pity. However, the two culprits advanced, and as they
approached their faces became visible. Peppino was a handsome young
man of four or five and twenty, bronzed by the sun; he carried his head
erect, and seemed on the watch to see on which side