The hand tightened on Rossi's arm, and his head began to swim.
"Little by little, in this grave of a living man, I have heard what has
happened since I was banished from the world. The treacherous letter
which called me back to Italy and decoyed me into the hands of the
police was the work of a man who now holds my estates as the payment for
his treachery."
"The Baron?"
Rossi had stopped the phonograph.
"Can you bear it?" he said.
The pale young face flushed with resolution.
"Go on," she said.
When the voice from the phonograph began again it was more tremulous and
husky than before.
"After he had betrayed the father, what impulse of fear or humanity
prompted him to take charge of the child, God alone, who reads all
hearts, can say. He went to England to look for her, found her in the
streets to which she had been abandoned by the faithlessness of the
guardians to whom I left her, and shut their mouths by buying them to
the perjury of burying the unknown body of an unfortunate being in the
name of my beloved child."
The hand on Rossi's arm trembled feebly, and slipped down to his own
hand. It was cold as ice. The voice from the phonograph was growing
faint.
"She is now in Rome, living in the name that was mine in Italy, amid an
atmosphere of danger and perhaps of shame. My son, save her from it. The
man who betrayed the father may betray the daughter also. Take her from
him. Rescue her. It is my dying prayer."
The hand in Rossi's hand was holding it tightly, and his blood was
throbbing at his heart.
"David," the voice from the phonograph was failing rapidly, "when this
shall come to your hands the darkness of the grave will be over me....
In my great distress of mind I torture myself with many terrors.... Do
not trifle with my request. But whatever you decide to do ... be gentle
with the child.... I dream of her every night, and send my heart's heart
to her on the swelling tides of love.... Adieu, my son. The end is near.
God be with you in all you do that I did ill or left undone. And if
death's great sundering does not annihilate the memory of those who
remain on earth, be sure you have a helper and an advocate in heaven."
The voice ceased, the whirring of the instrument came to an end, and an
invisible spirit seemed to fade into the air. The pattering of the rain
had stopped, and there was the crackle of cab wheels on the pavement
below. Roma had dropped Rossi's hand, and was leaning forward on her
knees with both hands over her face. After a moment, she wiped her eyes
with her handkerchief and began to put on her hat.