"He will see," they muttered. "Only let him try to come back!"

Their words, their gestures, the manner in which they were to receive
him, were all thought out and agreed upon: he was to receive a memorable
lesson.

On the morning of the 22d they were all seated in the dining-room,
reading, when there was a great knock at the door, and the boy, flushed,
panting, sunburnt, stood erect and motionless on the threshold.

No one moved.

"What!" cried the boy, extending his arms in amazement, "you haven't
heard the news?"

No one answered.

"Hasn't any one told you? Has no one been out from Florence? Are you all
in the dark still?"

No one breathed.

"We have heard," one of the girls at length faltered, after exchanging
glances with her father, "that Rome was taken--"

"What! Is THAT all?"

"That is all."

"But what a victory! What a victory!" cried the son, with a shout that