's lips than they seemed to vibrate up
the streets. A great shout rang through the air, and rushed along the
river; and then another, and another; and the shouts were heard
spreading along the line of the procession towards the Duomo; and then
there were fainter answering shouts, like the intermediate plash of
distant waves in a great lake whose waters obey one impulse.

For some minutes there was no attempt to speak further: the Signoria
themselves lifted up their caps, and stood bare-headed in the presence
of a rescue which had come from outside the limit of their own power--
from that region of trust and resignation which has been in all ages
called divine.

At last, as the signal was given to move forward, Tito said, with a
smile--

"I ought to say, that any hose to be bestowed by the Magnificent
Signoria in reward of these tidings are due, not to me, but to another
man who had ridden hard to bring them, and would have been here in my
place if his horse had not broken down just before he reached Signa.
Meo di Sasso will doubtless be here in an hour or two, and may all the
more justly claim the glory of the messenger, because he has had the
chief labour and has lost the chief delight."

It was a graceful way of putting a necessary statement, and after a word
of reply from the _Proposto_, or spokesman of the Signoria, this
dignified extremity of the procession passed on, and Tito turned his
horse's head to follow in its train, while the great bell of the Palazzo
Vecchio was already beginning to swing, and give a louder voice to the
people's joy in that moment, when Tito's attention had ceased to be
imperatively directed, it might have been expected that he would look
round and recognise Romola; but he was apparently engaged with his cap,
which, now the eager people were leading his horse, he was able to seize
and place on his head, while his right-hand was still encumbered by the
olive-branch. He had a becoming air of lassitude after his exertions;
and Romola, instead of making any effort to be recognised by him, threw
her black drapery over her head again, and remained perfectly quiet.
Yet she felt almost sure that Tito had seen her; he had the power of
seeing everything without seeming to see it.

CHAPTER FORTY FOUR.

THE VISIBLE MADONNA.

The crowd had no sooner passed onward than Romola descended to the
street, and hastened to the steps of San Stefano. Cecco had been
attracted with the rest towards