that too houses stretched into
the indefinite distance.

But Percy did not realise the significance of all that he saw, until the
occasion of the Pope's name-day towards the end of August.

It was yet cool and early, when he followed his patron, whom he was to
serve as chaplain, along the broad passages of the Vatican towards the
room where the Pope and Cardinals were to assemble. Through a window, as
he looked out into the Piazza, the crowd was yet more dense, if that
were possible, than it had been an hour before. The huge oval square was
cobbled with heads, through which ran a broad road, kept by papal troops
for the passage of the carriages; and up the broad ribbon, white in the
eastern light, came monstrous vehicles, a blaze of gilding and colour
and cream tint; slow cheers swelled up and died, and through all came
the rush and patter of wheels over the stones, like the sound of a
tide-swept pebbly beach.

As they waited in an ante-chamber, halted by the pressure in front and
behind--a pack of scarlet and white and purple--he looked out again, and
realised what he had known only intellectually before, that here before
his eyes was the royalty of the old world assembled--and he began to
perceive its significance.

Round the steps of the basilica spread a great fan of coaches, each
yoked to eight horses--the white of France and Spain, the black of
Germany, Italy and Russia, and the cream-coloured of England. Those
stood out in the near half-circle, and beyond was the sweep of the
lesser powers: Greece, Norway, Sweden, Roumania and the Balkan States.
One, the Turk, was alone wanting, he reminded himself. The emblems of
some were visible--eagles, lions, leopards--guarding the royal crown
above the roof of each. From the foot of the steps to the head ran a
broad scarlet carpet, lined with soldiers.

Percy leaned against the shutter, and began to meditate. Here was all
that was left of Royalty. He had seen their palaces before, here and
there in the various quarters, with standards flying, and
scarlet-liveried men lounging on the steps. He had raised his hat a
dozen times as a landau thundered past him up the Course; be had even
seen the lilies of France and the leopards of England pass together in
the solemn parade of the Pincian Hill. He had read in the papers every
now and again during the last five years that family after family had
made its way to Rome, after papal recognition had been granted; he had
been to