When the Princess and Don Camillo came out of the Countess's room Roma

was gone, and the dog was scratching at the inside of the outer door.

"Now where can she have gone to so suddenly, I wonder? And there's her

poor dog trying to follow her!"

"Is that the dog that goes to the Deputy's apartment?"

"Certainly it is! His name is Black. I'll hold him while you open the

door, Felice. There! Good dog! Good Black! Oh, the brute, he has broken

away from me."

"Black! Black! Black!"

"No use, Felice. He'll he half way through the streets by this time."

And going down the stairs the little Princess whispered to her

companion: "Now, if Black comes home with his mistress this evening it

will be easy to see where she has been."

Meantime Roma in her coupé was reading her letter-

"DEAREST,--Been away from Rome for a few days, and hence the delay

in answering your charming message. Don't trouble a moment about

the dead-and-buried nightmare. If the story is true, so much the

better. R. R. is dead, thank God, and her unhappy wraith will

haunt your path no more. But if Dr. Roselli knew nothing about

David Rossi, how comes it that David Rossi knows so much about Dr.

Roselli? It looks like another clue. Thanks again. A thousand

thanks!

"Still no news from London, but though I pretend neither to

knowledge nor foreknowledge, I am still satisfied that we are on

the right track.

"Dinner-party to-night, dearest, and I shall be obliged to you if

I may borrow Felice. Your Princess Potiphar, your Don Saint

Joseph, your Count Signorina, your Senator Tom-tit, and--will you

believe it?--your Madame de Trop! I can deny you nothing, you see,

but I am cruelly out of luck that my dark house must lack the

light of all drawing-rooms, the sunshine of all Rome!

"How clever of you to throw dust in the eyes of your aunt herself!

And these red-hot prophets in petticoats, how startled they will

soon be! Adieu!

"BONELLI."

As the coupé turned into the Piazza Navona, Roma was tearing the

letter into shreds and casting them out of the window.

VIII

While Roma climbed the last flight of stairs to David Rossi's apartment,

with the slippery-sloppery footsteps of the old Garibaldian going before

her, Bruno's thunderous voice was rocking through the rooms above.

"Look at him, Mr. Rossi! Republican, democrat, socialist, and rebel!

Upsets the government of this house once a day regularly--dethrones the

King and defies the Queen! Catch the piggy-wiggy, Uncle David! Here goes

for it--one, two, three, and away!"




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