The pontiff rose from his seat and the sun shone full upon his venerable form.

He wore a white robe embroidered with gold, and his appearance was radiant with light.

The benignant smile that illumined his countenance outshone all the diamonds in his triple crown.
How happy was Princess Blanka at that moment! and hers were the fairest gems in all that costly array,--two tears that glistened in her large dark eyes as she gazed intently on the scene before her.
The two youngest cardinals took their stand on either side of the Pope, each holding a palm-leaf in his hand.

Then, over the awed and silent throng before him, in a voice still strong, sonorous, and vibrant with feeling, the aged pontiff pronounced his blessing in words at once simple, sincere, and gracious.
Blanka and Manasseh exchanged glances, and the young man felt a tear-drop fall upon his cheek.

From that moment an indissoluble bond united the two.
When the benediction was over, a stentorian voice from the multitude cried, "_Evviva Pio Nono!_" The shout was caught up by all the vast throng, and sent heavenward in a united cry of ever-swelling volume.