Not
the sight of illumined Rome, but the sight of a low and narrow bench,
running along below the cippi and the sarcophagi, calmed his spirit.
Then, in the dim light, he distinguished a canopy, which was already
half demolished. What could it mean? Along the opposite wall ran a
second bench, exactly like the first. Proceeding, he stumbled against
something which proved to be a large armchair. Now terror had given
place to a fixed purpose. The imperious, inward voice, which had already
commanded him to enter, said to him, "Go forward!" The voice was so
clear, so loud, that a sudden flash illumined his memory.
He smote his forehead. In the Vision he had seen himself in conversation
with the Pope. This he had never been able to forget. But he had
forgotten--and now the memory of it had flashed back to him--that a
spirit had led him through the Vatican to the Pope. He moved along the
left-hand wall, near which he had stumbled against the great chair. He
was convinced that at the end of the Gallery he should find an exit, and
light at last.
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