frantic cheers before the palaces of the Roman nobles who are known for
their devotion to the Holy See. In answer to the cheers, the owners of
the houses appeared on their balconies and unfurled the Italian flag.

"Wait a minute, I'm out of breath"...

As soon as he had recovered his breath he was assailed with fresh
questions.

"Well, and what then? And the Vatican--? The Pope--?"

"I don't know.--But Rome that night... how can I ever tell you how
beautiful, how great, how marvellous it was! The night was perfectly
clear, and I don't believe such an illumination was ever seen since the
world began. The Corso was on fire; the churches were jammed with
people, and there was preaching in every one of them. The streets were
full of music, dancing, and singing; people harangued the crowds in the
cafes and the theatres.

"I wanted to see St. Peter's again. There had been a rumor that His
Holiness needed rest, and Borgo Pio was as still as it is on the
stillest night. The piazza was full of moonlight. A silent throng was
gathered about the two fountains and on the steps of the church. Many
were sitting down, many stretched at full length on the ground; the
greater number had fallen asleep, worn out by the fatigue and excitement
of the day; women, soldiers, children, lay huddled together in a
confused heap. Hundreds of others were on their knees, and sentinels of
all the different corps moved about here and there, with little flags
and crosses fastened to the barrels of their guns. The ground was strewn
with flags, foliage, flowers, and hats lost in the crush; the windows of