If such was the public joy in a little town of four thousand people at the return of a young fellow of no mark or likelihood whatever, except that he was comely, merry, brave, ingenuous, with a good word for everybody and with everybody's good word,--it may be supposed what a stir the Emperor's arrival at Naples made, and how that pleasure-loving capital nearly exhausted itself in demonstrations of welcome. The mole, when he landed, was so crowded, that you may be sure a grain of millet thrown upon it would not have found room to reach the ground. Nothing was to be heard but bell-ringing, acclamations, and the thundering of cannon; nothing to be seen but gold, velvet, silk, and brocade, festoons of flowers, triumphal arches, processions, deputations, triumphal cars, prancing steeds, waving plumes, and bronzed cavaliers looking up at the balconies of fair women waving their handkerchiefs, among whom, rely on it, were Vittoria Colonna and Giulia Gonzaga. Charles, with his Spanish gravity ever uppermost, took it all very soberly; heard what people had to say, enjoyed it in his way, said very little himself, and in the proverb style; went to the cathedral, heard Fra Bernardino Ochino preach, and afterwards observed, composedly, "That man would make the stones weep!"--his own eyes being quite dry all the while. Also if anything inexpressibly funny were said, he remarked, "How very diverting!" but did not smile. He was best at business, and he entered upon Giulia's affairs. CHAPTER XV. MORE ABOUT THE CARDINAL. Itri, the birthplace of the notorious Fra Diavolo, is a regular robber's-nest, picturesquely placed on the side of a lofty hill, and crested by a ruined castle. In Ippolito de' Medici's time the castle was not ruined; and there was also a monastery, where he and his attendants were suitably entertained. On the afternoon of the 2nd of August, after a meal which we should call luncheon, but which the early habits of those days distinguished as dinner,--succeeded by a moderate siesta,--the court-yard was all alive with preparations for a gallant riding-party, in the full heat and glare of the day. Groups of cowled and bare-headed monks stood curiously about, admiring the Cardinal's beautiful mare; and groups, too, of robber-like, shaggy-looking men, and bright-eyed women and girls with golden bodkins in their hair, hung about the gates and passed their comments on the cortége. The Cardinal came forth, talking to the Prior, whose pale, attenuated face and hollow eyes formed a notable contrast to the vivid colouring of his own healthy, well-fed countenance. He was within an ace of losing his good looks from too much eating and drinking. In dress, the Cardinal was superb, with a touch of the church militant. A smile was on his lip as he patted his mare and examined her trappings, saying, "She will not serve me that sorry trick again, I hope."