Notwithstanding all her efforts to appear calm, Roma felt as if she must

go out into the streets and scream. Now she knew why she had been sent

for. It was in order that the Baron might talk to her in parables--in

order that he might show her by means of an object lesson, as palpable

as pitiless, what was the impediment which made her marriage with David

Rossi impossible.

The marriage could not be celebrated until after eleven days, but the

meeting at the Coliseum must take place to-morrow, and as surely as it

did so it must result in riot and David Rossi must be shot.

The secretary gathered up his note-book and left the room, and then the

Baron turned to Roma with beaming eyes and lips expanding to a smile.

"Finished at last! A thousand apologies, my dear! Twelve o'clock

already! Let us go out and lunch somewhere."

"Let me go home," said Roma.

She was trembling violently, and as she rose to her feet she swayed a

little.

"My dear child! you're not well. Take this glass of water."

"It's nothing. Let me go home."

The Baron walked with her to the head of the staircase.

"I understand you perfectly," she said in a choking voice, "but there is

something you have not counted upon, and you are quite mistaken."

And making a great call on her resolution, she threw up her head and

walked firmly down the stairs.

Immediately on reaching home she wrote to David Rossi: "I must see you to-night. Where can it be? To-night! Mind,

to-night. To-morrow will be too late. ROMA."

Bruno delivered the note by hand, and brought back an answer:

"DEAREST,--Come to the office at nine o'clock. Sorry I cannot

go to you. It is impossible. D. R.

"P.S.--You have converted Bruno, and he would die for you. As for

the 'little Roman boy,' he is in the seventh heaven over your

presents, and says he must go up to Trinità de' Monti to begin

work at once."

IV

The office of the Sunrise at nine o'clock that night tingled with

excitement. A supplement had already gone to press, and the machines in

the basement were working rapidly. In the business office on the first

floor people were constantly coming and going, and the footsteps on the

stairs of the composing-room sounded through the walls like the

irregular beat of a hammer.

The door of the editor's room was frequently swinging open, as reporters

with reports, messengers with telegrams, and boys with proofs came in

and laid them on the desk at which the sub-editor sat at work.




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