"You shall hear, mamma--things to make one wild! Come nearer: so! You know all about the morning of the 21st, do you not? The other regiments entered: crowds, noise, music, as on the previous day, until twelve o'clock. At twelve o'clock, as if by common consent, the confusion ceased--first in the Corso, then in the other main streets, and gradually everywhere. The crowds of citizens stood still, formed groups and chatted in an undertone; then they dispersed in all directions, nodding to each other like people who expect to meet soon again. It seemed as if the order had circulated to prepare for some great event. People meeting in the street spoke to each other hastily, and then each one went his own way. From one end to the other of the Corso there was a general bustle, some going home, others going out; some calling from the street, others answering from the windows; the soldiers rushing to and fro as if they had heard a call; officers on horseback trotting by; men and boys passing with bundles of flags on their shoulders and in their arms; all active and hurrying as if they were being pursued. I, who knew nothing and no one, looked now at this face, now at that, to try and discover something. They all seemed happy, but did not exhibit their former boisterous, unrestrained joy: all betrayed a disturbing thought, a misgiving, almost an uneasiness: one could see that they were people concocting something. I turned into one of the smaller streets; went farther on; stopped at two or three crossways: everywhere was the same sight--great crowds, a great stir, great haste and an indescribable manner of speaking and gesticulating, which I had already remarked in the Corso, as if the whole mass of people wished to conceal something from some one, although it was visible to every one. Knots of people passed by me, troops, hundreds of men and women together, and not a cry was to be heard. All were going in the same direction, as if to a place of rendezvous." "Where were they going?" asked the mother and father.