"Strange! You would think she was expecting some one," said Elena.
"She is, too," said the doctor. "And he is a visitor who will not keep
her long."
The soldier who brought Roma her breakfast that morning brought
something else that she found infinitely more appetising. Rossi had
returned to Rome! One of the men below had seen him in the street last
night. He was going in the direction of the Piazza Navona, and nobody
was attempting to arrest him.
Roma's eyes flashed like stars, and she sent down a message to the
Major, asking to be allowed to see the soldier who had seen Rossi.
He was a big ungainly fellow, but in Roma's eyes who shall say how
beautiful? She asked him a hundred questions. His dense head was utterly
bewildered.
The doctor came back with a smiling face. The Prefect had agreed to
postpone indefinitely the transfer of their prisoner to the
penitentiary. The good man thought she would be very grateful.
"Ah, indefinitely? I only wished to remain over to-day! After that I
shall be quite ready."
But the doctor brought another piece of news which threw her into the
wildest excitement. Both Senate and Chamber of Deputies had been
convoked late last night for an early hour this morning. Rumour said
they were to receive an urgent message from the King. There was the
greatest commotion in the neighbourhood of the Houses of Parliament, and
the public tribunes were densely crowded. The doctor himself had
obtained a card for the Chamber, but he was unable to get beyond the
corridors. Nevertheless, the doors being open owing to the heat and
crush, he had heard something. Vaguely, for five minutes, he had heard
one of their great speakers.
"Was it ... was it, perhaps...."
"It was."
Again the big eyes flashed like stars.
"You heard him speak?"
"I heard his voice at all events."
"It's a wonderful voice, isn't it? And you really heard him? Can it be
possible?"
Elena, the sad figure in the background of these bright pathetic scenes,
thought Roma was hoping for a reconciliation with Rossi. She hinted as
much, and then the fierce joy in the white face faded away.
"Ah, no! I'm not thinking of that, Elena."
Her love was too large for personal thoughts. It had risen higher than
any selfish expectations.
They helped her on to the loggia. The day was warm, and the fresh air
would do her good. She looked out over the city with a loving gaze,
first towards the Piazza Navona, then towards the tower of Monte
Citorio, and last of all towards Trinità de' Monti and the House of the
Four Winds. But she was seeing things as they would be when she was
gone, not to Viterbo, but on a longer journey.