"Rome is a deserted city to-day, and but for the soldiers, who are

everywhere, it would look like a dead one! The steps of the Piazza

di Spagna are empty, not a model is to be seen, not a flower is to

be bought, and the fountain is bubbling in silence. After sunset a

certain shiver passes over the world, and after an insurrection

something of the same kind seems to pass over a city. The churches

and the hospitals are the only places open, and the doctors and

their messengers are the only people moving about.

"Just one of the newspapers has been published to-day, and it is

full of proclamations. Everybody is to be indoors by nine o'clock

and the cafés are to be closed at eight. Arms are to be consigned

at the Questura, and meetings of more than four persons are

strictly forbidden. Rewards of pardon are offered to all rioters

who will inform on the ringleaders of the insurrection, and of

money to all citizens who will denounce the conspirators. The

military tribunals are to sit to-morrow and domiciliary

visitations are already being made. Your own apartments have been

searched and sealed and the police have carried off papers.

"Such are the doings of this evil day, and yet--selfish woman that

I am--I cannot for my life think it is all evil. Has it not given

me you? And if it has taken you away from me as well, I can wait,

I can be patient. Where are you now, I wonder? And are you

thinking of me while I am thinking of you? Oh, how splendid! Think

of it! Though the train may be carrying you away from me every

hour and every minute, before long we shall be together. In the

first dream of the first sleep I shall join you, and we shall be

cheek to cheek and heart to heart. Good-night, my dear one!"

Again she tried to say something about her secret. But no! "Not

to-night," she thought, and after switching off the light and kissing

her hand in the darkness to the stars that hung over the north, she

laughed at her own foolishness and went to bed.

IV

Roma awoke next day with a sense of pain. Thus far she had beaten the

Baron--yes! But David Rossi? Had she sinned against God and against her

husband? She must confess. There was no help for it. And there must be

no hesitation and no delay.

Natalina came into the bedroom and threw open the shutters. She was

bringing a telegram, and Roma almost snatched it out of her hands. It

was from Rossi and had been sent off from Chiasso. "Crossed frontier

safe and well."




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