It is a fête day in Rome, and a grand review of the troops was held by the King. About half-past six the regimental bands began to pass up the Via Venti Settembre. I enjoyed the lively airs which I could faintly hear from far away, growing louder and louder till under my very window there was a great burst of melody, mingled with the swash of marching feet, which went by and became fainter in the distance again. The review was in the Piazza dell’Indipendenza and a large holiday crowd had gathered there. The King came with a big staff, the Queen in semi-state, in a carriage with _corazzieri_. There were not many troops, but I always like to see the _carabinieri_ with their three-cornered hats and tail coats and crossed belts. The _bersaglieri_, too, are amusing and exciting, going on the run, trailing their guns, with their fluttering cock-feather hats, and their fanfare in front tooting a gay quickstep. The Corso, also, was crowded with a procession of bare-headed _contadini_ in carriages with banners, the prizes won lately at the festival of the _Divina Amore_. The cathedrals were thronged, the doors hung with crimson and gold curtains, and within, hundreds of candles burning. Little girls in their confirmation dresses walked in procession, the proud parents following. It was all really very gay. The Ambassador who has been away the past week, returned, and we made a long excursion to Bracciano, the small town on a rock jutting into the lake. The great castle, once the stronghold of the Orsini, but now belonging to Prince Odescalchi, rises high above the village. We had brought our luncheon and champagne, and had it served in the dining hall of the château. It was a very jolly luncheon and a good one. Then, after a rest, we climbed over the castello, up into the battlements and towers, and looked down at the vineyards and the lake far below us, and out over the chestnut-wooded mountains which stretch away to the northward. Although Prince Odescalchi passes some time here, and although he is very rich, yet the halls and courtyards are crumbling into ruins. I experienced an exciting incident since I last wrote, which, thank God! had no terrible results. For a time, however, I felt I was looking down on a fatal panic. A fire broke out in a crowded theatre where I was, and I am much more moved by it now than I was at the time, when I took the affair coolly enough, though it was really frightful. It was a gala night at the Opera House Costanzi, where we attended the masked ball in the carnival season, you remember. The house was crowded, the pit and orchestra jammed, the boxes all taken and a ballet with gay music and dancing was being performed--when suddenly in the molding above the top row of boxes,--I was in one with some colleagues--there was a phit! phiz-z-z, and a blue flame shot out and ran sputtering along the woodwork.