galleries of the cupola, on the capitals of the pillars, on the pillars themselves; and behind--at the windows of the houses, on the balconies, on the roofs, above, below, right and left, wherever a human creature could plant his foot or clutch hold or hang on; everywhere heads, arms and legs dangling, banners, gestures, voices! All Rome was there!" "Heavens! But the Vatican?" they all cried in great agitation. "Closed. You know that one wing of the Vatican opens on the square, and in that is the pope's apartment. All the windows belonging to it were closed: it seemed like a deserted palace. At that moment it had the appearance of a cold, stern, impassive person looking down with fixed, wide-open eyes. The multitude looked up with a murmuring noise. On one side, toward the terrace, could be seen a great body of officers and noblemen, who appeared to give orders which were repeated from mouth to mouth. The agitation continued to increase. All heads were uncovered--white heads of old men, dark heads of soldiers, blond heads of children. A bright sun was shining; a thousand movements, a thousand noises, a thousand colors, were waving and mingling on this immense surface. Banners and rags fluttered, tossed back here and there as if they were floating on the water. The seething was such it seemed as if fire were burning under the earth. Suddenly, from all sides was heard and spread a cry, 'The boys! the children! Bring forward the children!' It was evidently a concerted plan. In a moment on all parts of the square people were seen holding up the children above their heads, and the men and women who were carrying them broke through the mass, all going in the direction of the Vatican: the bigger boys forced their own way, holding hands, rushing between the people's legs, ten and twenty at a time. In a few minutes hundreds of children--a whole population of creatures concealed until now--some by means of their own legs, some pushed, some carried, were crowded into one corner of the square, and in the mean while arose a deafening cry from the women, 'Take care! Slowly! My child!' Soon after another louder and more imperative call, 'The women! the women!' Another disturbance, another breaking through the crowd in all directions. Then a third and more formidable cry, 'The army! the soldiers! Forward!' And once more an indescribable upheaving, but simultaneous, resolute, rapid. There were none of the difficulties and delays usually seen in similar cases: all worked and helped to accomplish the end. There was an impetuosity, a fervor, and yet an astonishing accord: this innumerable crowd seemed ruled and controlled. By degrees the bustle ceased, all cries were hushed, arms were dropped, everybody looked around, and it seemed as if by enchantment the children, the women and the soldiers had disappeared. They all stood on the right side of the square, divided into three great masses, from the door of St.