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 told by the Cardinal on the previous evening that William of England, with his Consort, had landed at Ostia in the morning and that the tale of the Powers was complete.