ood!

This reminds me of a little incident, for whose exact truth I can
guarantee. On the day of the battle of Solferino, the Austrian Envoy
at Rome dined with the Cardinal Antonelli. It was a very joyous little
dinner, each in the highest spirits--satisfied with the present, and
full of hope for the future. The telegram which arrived at mid-day told
that the troops were in motion, and that the artillery fire had already
opened. The position was a noble one--the army full of spirit, and all
confident that before the sun should set the tide of victory would have
turned, and the white legions of the Danube be in hot pursuit of their
flying enemy. Indeed, the Envoy came to dinner fortified with a mass of
letters from men high in command, all of which assumed as indisputable
that the French must be beaten. Of the Italians they never spoke at all.

As the two friends sat over the dessert, they discussed what at that
precise moment might be going on over the battle-field. Was the conflict
still continuing? Had the French reserves been brought up? Had they,
too, been thrown back, beaten and disordered? and where was the fourth
corps under the Prince Napoleon? They were forty thousand strong--could
they have arrived in time from the Po? All these casualties, and many
others, did they talk over, but never once launching a doubt as to the
issue, or ever dreaming that the day was not to reverse all the late
past, and bring back the Austrians in triumph to Milan.

As they sat, the Prefect of Police was announced and introduced. He
came with the list of the persons who were to be arrested and sent to
prison--they were one hundred and eighteen, some of them among the first
families of Rome--so soon as certain tidings of the victory arrived, and
the game of reaction might be safe to begin.

"No news yet, Signor Prefetto! come back at ten," said the Cardinal

At ten he presented himself once more. The Cardinal and his friend were
taking coffee, but less joyous, it seemed, than before. At least they
looked anxious for news, and started at every noise in the street that
might announce new-come tidings. "We have heard nothing since you were
here," said the Cardinal. "His Excellency thinks that, at a moment
of immense exigency, they may not have immediately bethought them of
sending off a despatch."

"There can be no doubt what the news will be when it comes," said the
Envoy, "and I'd say, make the arrests at once."

"I don't know;