Roma half rose from her seat, then sank back, and the lace handkerchief
dropped from her hand.
"But I heard afterwards--long afterwards--that he was a Roman noble, one
of the fearless few who had taken up poverty and exile and an unknown
name for the sake of liberty and justice."
Roma's head had fallen into her bosom, which was heaving with an emotion
she could not conceal.
"One day a letter came from Italy, telling him that a thousand men were
waiting for him to lead them in an insurrection that was to dethrone an
unrighteous king. It was the trick of a scoundrel who has since been
paid the price of a hero's blood. I heard of this only lately--only
to-night."
There was silence for a moment. David Rossi had put one arm over his
eyes.
"Well?"
"He was enticed back from England to Italy; an English minister violated
his correspondence with a friend, and communicated its contents to the
Italian Government; he was betrayed into the hands of the police, and
deported without trial."
"Was he never heard of again?"
"Once--only once--by the friend I speak about."
Roma felt dizzy, as if she were coming near to some deep places; but she
could not stop--something compelled her to go on.
"Who was the friend?" she asked.
"One of his poor waifs--a boy who owed everything to him, and loved and
revered him as a father--loves and reveres him still, and tries to
follow in the path he trod."
"What--what was his name?"
"David Leone."
She looked at him for a moment without being able to speak. Then she
said: "What happened to him?"
"The Italian courts condemned him to death, and the English police drove
him from England."
"Then he has never been able to return to his own country?"
"He has never been able to visit his mother's grave except by secret and
at night, and as one who was perpetrating a crime."
"What became of him?"
"He went to America."
"Did he ever return?"
"Yes! Love of home in him, as in all homeless ones, was a consuming
passion, and he came back to Italy."
"Where--where is he now?"
David Rossi stepped up to her, and said: "In this room."
She rose: "Then you are David Leone!"
He raised one hand: "David Leone is dead!"
There was silence for a moment. She could hear the thumping of her
heart. Then she said in an almost inaudible whisper: "I understand. David Leone is dead, but David Rossi is alive."