Men and women, even among the hardened chorus, shook together and sobbed.

'Agostino!' and 'Rocco!' were called; 'Vittoria!' 'Vittoria!' above all, with increasing thunder, like a storm rushing down a valley, striking in broad volume from rock to rock, humming remote, and bursting up again in the face of the vale.

Her name was sung over and over--'Vittoria! Vittoria!' as if the mouths were enamoured of it.
'Evviva la Vittoria a d' Italia!' was sung out from the body of the house.
An echo replied--'"Italia a il premio della VITTORIA!"' a well-known saying gloriously adapted, gloriously rescued from disgrace.
But the object and source of the tremendous frenzy stood like one frozen by the revelation of the magic the secret of which she has studiously mastered.

A nosegay, the last of the tributary shower, discharged from a distance, fell at her feet.

She gave it unconsciously preference over the rest, and picked it up.