"What happened then is a long story. The old Baron was now dead and the
young friar had inherited his princely fortune. Dispensations got over
canonical difficulties, and in due course he took holy orders. His first
work was to establish in Rome an asylum for friendless orphans. He went
out into the streets to look for them, and brought them in with his own
hands. His fame for charity grew rapidly, and he knew well what he was
doing. He was looking for the little fatherless one who owned his own
blood and bore his name."
Roma was now sitting with drooping head, and her tears were falling on
her hands.
"Five years passed, and at length he came upon a trace of the boy and
heard that he had been sent to England. The unhappy father obtained
permission and removed to London. There he set up the same work as
before and spent in the same way his great wealth. He passed five years
more in a fruitless search, looking for his lost one day and night,
winter and summer, in cold and heat, among the little foreign boys who
play organs and accordions in the streets. Then he gave up hope and
returned to Rome. His head was white and his heart was humble, but in
spite of himself he rose from dignity to dignity until at length the old
Baron's perverted ambitions were fulfilled. For his great and abounding
charity, and still greater piety, he was promoted to be Bishop; seven
years afterwards he was created Cardinal; and now he is Pope Pius the
Tenth, the saint, the saviour of his people, once the storm-tossed,
sorrowing, stricken man...."
"David Leone?"
The Capuchin bowed. "That was the Holy Father's name. He committed no
sin and has nothing to reproach himself with, but nevertheless he has
known what it is to fall and to rise again, to suffer and be strong.
Tell me, my daughter, is there anything you would be afraid to confide
to him?"
"Nothing! Nothing whatever!" said Roma, with tears choking her voice and
streaming down her cheeks.
The door to the throne room opened again and a line of Cardinals came
out and passed down the secret corridor, talking together as they
walked, old men in violet, most of them very feeble and looking very
tired. At the next moment the chaplain came in for Roma.
"The Holy Father will be ready to receive you presently," he said in a
hushed and reverent whisper, and she rose to follow him.
A moment later Roma was at the door of the grand throne room. A
chamberlain took charge of her there, and passed her to a secret
chamberlain at the door of an anteroom adjoining. This secret
chamberlain handed her on to a Monsignor in a violet cassock, and the
Monsignor accompanied her to the door of the room in which the Pope was
sitting.