f broken
columns and cornices, of corbels and capitals, of wells and
watercourses, lying in the waste where they had been left by the
earthquake which had passed over them, the earthquake of the ages--and
so on through the arch of Titus to the meeting-place in the Coliseum.

All this time David Rossi's restless eyes had passed nervously from side
to side. Coming down the Corso he had been dimly conscious of eyes
looking at him from windows and balconies. He was struggling to be calm
and firm, but he was in a furnace of dread, and beneath his breath he
was praying from time to time that God would prevent accident and avert
bloodshed. He was also praying for strength of spirit and feeling like a
guilty coward. His face was deadly pale, the fire within seemed to
consume the grosser senses, and he walked along like a man in a dream.

VI

Half-an-hour before Ave Maria, Roma had put on an inconspicuous cloak, a
plain hat, and a dark veil, and walked down to the Coliseum. Soldiers
were stationed on all the high ground about the circus, and large
numbers of persons were already assembled inside. The people were poor
and ill-clad, and they smelt of garlic and uncleanness. "_His_ people,
though," thought Roma, and so she conquered her repulsion.

Three tiers encircle the walls of the Coliseum, like the galleries of a
great theatre, and the lowest of these was occupied by a regiment of
Carabineers. There was some banter and chaff at the expense of the
soldiers, but the people were serious for all that, and the excitement
beneath their jesting was deep and strong.

The low cloud which had hung over the city from early morning seemed to
lie like a roof over the topmost circle of the amphitheatre, and as
night came on the pit below grew dark and chill. Then torches were lit
and put in prominent places--long pitch sticks covered with rags or
brown paper. The people were patient and good-humoured, but to beguile
the tedium of waiting they sang songs. They were songs of labour
chiefly, but one man started the _Te Deum_, and the rest joined in with
one voice. It was like the noise the sea makes on a heavy day when it
breaks on a bank of sand.

After a while there was a deep sound from outside. The procession was
approaching. It came on like a great tidal wave and flowed into the vast
place in the gathering darkness with the light of a hundred fresh
torches.

In less than half-an-hour the ruined a