What had been accomplished in the few days since that first meeting of the committee Sunday afternoon seemed a miracle. The men who had worked the miracle were with us, quiet, alert, full of attentions for the comfort of the ladies who were going to see the “Bayern” start on her cruise of mercy. The leader of the enterprise, Lloyd Griscom, and his right-hand man, Captain Belknap, who bore the brunt of all the great work that was to follow, talked together in undertones, discussing the final arrangements. Later Mr. Gay, Mr. Parrish and Mr. Page joined them. The rest of us kept apart, as it seemed they were holding an informal committee meeting, to decide some last weighty matter, and exchanged our news. “Mr. Griscom saw the King,” said the Roman American, “and offered him the relief ship. The King accepted it and told the Ambassador that nothing could have been devised better than such a gift. The money for the expedition was given by the American Red Cross to Mr. Griscom to spend at his discretion.” That was wise, for what was needed now even more than money was the good sense to spend it well, ability, organizing power--the thing that is so much harder to get or to give than money--_brains_! At Civitavecchia we were received by the Sindaco, the Sub-Prefect, and the Captain of the Port; they all wore black gloves and crape bands on the arm. The general exaltation and excitement that ran like fire through Rome was lacking in the small provincial seaport; there was a sense of hopeless mourning here, more distressing than the tearing passion of Rome. Two of our ladies disappeared as soon as we reached Civitavecchia. The rest of us, escorted by the officials, were rowed out in small boats to the “Bayern,” a fine steamer of 5000 tons, lying in the outer harbor surrounded by a fleet of lighters. “Still taking on stores, you see,” said Mr. Stein, who had come in person to see that the goods from Rome were delivered on time. “By four o’clock everything will be on board; they will be able to start without delay.” “This is Captain Miztloff,” said Belknap (how could he find time for everything?), presenting the big florid typical North-German-Lloyd commander. “They tell me you shall not with us go?” said the captain. “It is a pity; we shall a moon and a fine weather have, and a good run to Messina make. Will you my quarters visit?”