"Will you not shake hands with me?" he said.
"What is the use?" she answered. "When people shake hands it means that
they wish each other well. You do not wish me well. You are trying to
force me to betray my husband.... But I'll die first," she said, and
then turned and fled.
When Roma was gone the Baron wrote a letter to the Pope:
"YOUR HOLINESS,--Providential accident, as your chamberlain would
tell you, has enabled his Majesty's Government to judge for itself
of that source of your Holiness's information which your Holiness
very properly refused to reveal. At the same time official
channels have disclosed to his Majesty's Government the nature of
the conspiracy of which your Holiness so patriotically forewarned
them. This conspiracy appears to be no less serious than an
attempt to assassinate the King, but as detailed knowledge of so
vile a plot is necessary in order to save the life of our august
sovereign, his Majesty's Government asks you to grant the Prime
Minister the honour of an audience with your Holiness in the cause
of order and public security. Hoping to hear of your Holiness's
convenience, and trusting that your Holiness will not disappoint
the hopes of those who are dreaming even yet of a reconciliation
of Church and State, I am, with all reverence, your Holiness's
faithful son and servant, BONELLI."
IX
Roma went home full of uncertainty, and wrote in a nervous and
straggling hand a hasty letter to Rossi.
"My dearest," she said, "your letter reached me safely last evening, and
though I cannot answer it properly at the present moment, I must send a
brief reply by mid-day's mail, because there are two or three things it
is imperative I should say immediately.
"The first is that I wrote you a very important letter to London twelve
days ago, and it is clear that you have not yet received it. The
contents were of the greatest seriousness and also of the greatest
secrecy, and I should die if any other eye than yours were to read
them; therefore do not lose a moment until you ask for the letter to be
sent after you to Paris. Write to London by the first post, and when the
letter has come to your hand, do telegraph to me saying so. 'Received,'
that will be sufficient, but if you can add one other little word
expressing your feeling on reading what I wrote--'Forgiven,' for
instance--my feeling will not be happiness, it will be delirium.
"The next thing I have to say, dearest, is about your letters. You know
they are more precious to me than my heart's blood, and there is not a
word or a line of them I would sacrifice for a queen's crown. But they
are so full of perilous opinions and of hints of programmes for
dangerous enterprises, that for your sake I am afraid. It is so good of
you to tell me what you are thinking and doing, and I am so proud to be
the woman who has the confidence as well as the love of the
most-talked-of man in Europe, that it cuts at my heart to ask you to
tell me no more about your political plans. Nevertheless, I must. Think
what would happen if the police took it into their heads to make a
domiciliary visitation in this house. And then think of what a fearful
weapon it puts into the hands of your enemies, if, hearing that I know
so much, they put pressure upon me that I cannot withstand! Of course,
that is impossible. I would die first. But still....