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!"