True, the waiting-room, where he was momentarily left alone, displayed neither luxury nor comfort; but it was brightened by the finest light in the world, and overlooked that extraordinary Campagna, so flat, so bare, and so unique in its beauty, for in front of it one ever dreams and sees the past arise.

And so, whilst waiting, Pierre stationed himself at an open window, conducting on to a balcony, and his eyes roamed over the endless sea of herbage to the far-away whiteness of Rome, above which rose the dome of St.Peter's, at that distance a mere sparkling speck, barely as large as the nail of one's little finger.
However, the young man had scarcely taken up this position when he was surprised to hear some people talking, their words reaching him with great distinctness.

And on leaning forward he realised that his Eminence in person was standing on another balcony close by, and conversing with a priest, only a portion of whose cassock could be seen.

Still, this sufficed for Pierre to recognise Santobono.

His first impulse, dictated by natural discretion, was to withdraw from the window, but the words he next heard riveted him to the spot.
"We shall know in a moment," his Eminence was saying in his full voice.
"I sent Eufemio to Rome, for he is the only person in whom I've any confidence.