mitted to ours the usual courtesy notice, as though for quite an ordinary visitation; and they had done this with an ostensible calmness, even almost indifference, as though nothing in particular were in the wind; while, instead of that, a furious tornado was already well-nigh at our very doors. But our measures were instantly taken; and as Italy had so successfully kept her own counsel, so did we, and even with still more success. We had out, at once, agencies everywhere over the country, to gather in the élite of our youth. We decided upon our tactical course. So soon as we could learn the exact number of the enemy, we draughted off an exactly equal force, the very choicest of the choice, and thus, in readiness and full confidence, our authorities awaited battle.
We completely hoodwinked the watchful expectancy of the Italian ambassador in London, so that no warning whatever had passed to his masters outside. As the day of departure drew on, the Italian authorities were hardly troubled to conceal their approaching triumph; for it seemed to them now impossible for England, in the brief remaining interval, to be duly prepared. Venerable old Rome, with all its millions of population, was in high fête on that memorable day, as the long and crowded trains carried off Italy's choicest flowers to what was deemed certain victory. The bright and joyous, laughing and joking occupants, had, however, many a serious exhortation, parental and general, to reject with becoming pride all inferiority, and to assure their country's triumph by returning, in the largest possible proportions, with uncaptured hearts.
This famous journey was one continuous succession
