"He was born in Rome, but he does not know who his father was."

"What is he like to look upon?"

"He is like ... I have never seen any one so like ... will your Holiness

forgive me?"

The colour had mounted to her eyes, her two rows of pearly teeth seemed

to be smiling, and the sunny old face of the Pope was smiling too.

"Say what you please, my daughter."

"I have never seen any one so like the Holy Father," she said softly.

Her head was held down and there was a little nervous tremor at her

heart. The Pope patted her hand affectionately.

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"Have I asked you his name, my child?"

"His name is David Rossi."

The Pope rose suddenly from his seat, and for the first time his face

looked dark and troubled.

"David Rossi?" he repeated in a husky voice.

Roma began to tremble. "Yes," she faltered.

"David Rossi, the Revolutionary?"

"Indeed no, your Holiness, he is not that."

"But, my child, my child, he is the founder of a revolutionary society

which this very day the Holy Father has condemned."

He walked across the room and she rose to her feet and looked after him.

"One of the men who are conspiring against the peace of the

Church--banded together to fight the Church and its head."

"Don't say that, your Holiness. He is religious, deeply religious, and

far more an enemy of the Government and the King."

She began to talk wildly, almost aimlessly, trying to defend Rossi at

all costs.

"Holy Father," she said, "shall I tell you a secret? There is nobody

else in the world to whom I could tell it, but I can tell it to you. My

husband is now in England organising a great scheme among the exiles and

refugees of Italy. What it is I don't know, but he has told me that it

will lead to the conquest of the country and the downfall of the throne.

Whether it is to be a conspiracy in the ordinary sense, or a

constitutional plan of campaign, he has not said, but everything tells

me that it is directed against the politics of Rome, and not against

its religion, and is intended to overthrow the King, and not the Pope."

The Pope, who had been standing with his back to Roma, turned round to

her with a look of fright. His eyebrows had met over the vertical lines

on his forehead, and this further reminder of another face threw Roma

into still greater confusion.




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