The heart of Rome

i • : 1

for tbe Xibran? of tbe
THniver0it2 of Toronto
out of tbe proceeos of tbe funo

bequeatbeo b^
56. Phillips Stewart, K.H.

OB. A.D. 1 *'.'-'.

CHAPTER I

THE Baroness Volterra drove to the Palazzo Conti
in the heart of Rome at nine o'clock in the
morning, to be sure of finding Donna Clementina
at home. She had tried twice to telephone, on
the previous afternoon, but the central office had
answered that 'the communication was interrupted.'
She was very anxious to see Clementina at once,
in order to get her support for a new and com-
plicated charity. She only wanted the name, and
expected nothing else, for the Conti had very
little ready money, though they still lived as if
they were rich. This did not matter to their
friends, but was a source of constant anxiety to
their creditors, and to the good Pompeo Sassi, the
steward of the ruined estate. He alone knew
\vhat the Conti owed, for none of them knew
much about it themselves, though he had done
his best to make the state of things clear to
them.

The big porter of the palace was sweeping the

pavement of the great entrance, as the cab drove

in. He wore his working clothes of grey linen

with silver buttons bearing the ancient arms of his

<? B

2 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

masters, and his third best gold - laced cap.
There was nothing surprising in this, at such an
early hour, and as he was a grave man with a long
grey beard that made him look very important,
the lady who drove up in the open cab did not
notice that he was even more solemn than usual.
When she appeared, he gave one more glance at
the spot he had been sweeping, and then grounded
his broom like a musket, folded his hands on the
end of the broomstick and looked at her as if he
wondered what on earth had brought her to the
palace at that moment, and wished that she would
take herself off again as soon as possible.

He did not even lift his cap to her, yet there
was nothing rude in his manner. He behaved
like a man upon whom some one intrudes when
he is in great trouble.

The Baroness was rather more exigent in re-
quiring respect from servants than most princesses
of the Holy Roman Empire, for her position in
the aristocratic scale was not very well defined.

She was not pleased, and spoke with excessive
coldness when she asked if Donna Clementina was
at home. The porter stood motionless beside the
cab, leaning on his broom. After a pause he said
in a rather strange voice that Donna Clementina
was certainly in, but that he could not tell whether
she were awake or not.

* Please find out,' answered the Baroness, with
impatience. c I am waiting,' she added with an
indescribable accent of annoyance and surprise, as
if she had never been kept waiting before, in all
the fifty years of her more or less fashionable life.

, THE HEART OF ROME 3

There were speaking tubes in the porter's
lodge, communicating with each floor of the great
Conti palace, but the porter did not move.

' I cannot go upstairs and leave the door/ he
said.

* You can speak to the servant through the
tube, I suppose ! '

The porter slowly shook his massive head,
and his long grey beard wagged from side to
side.

' There are no servants upstairs,' he said.
' There is only the family.'

* No servants ? Are you crazy ? '

' Oh no ! ' answered the man meditatively. ' I
do not think I am mad. The servants all went
away last night after dinner, with their belongings.
There were only sixteen left, men and women, for
I counted them.'

* Do you mean to say — . — ' The Baroness
stopped in the middle of her question, staring in
amazement.

The porter now nodded, as solemnly as he had
before shaken his head.

'Yes. This is the end of the house of
Conti.'

Then he looked at her as if he wished to be
questioned, for he knew that she was not really a
great lady, and guessed that in spite of her
magnificent superiority and coldness she was not
above talking to a servant about her friends.

'But they must have somebody,' she said.
' They must eat, I suppose ! Somebody must
cook for them. They cannot starve ! '

4 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

' Who knows ? Who knows ? Perhaps they
will starve.'

The porter evidently took a gloomy view of
the case.

' But why did the servants go away in a
body ? ' asked the Baroness, descending from
her social perch by the inviting ladder of
curiosity.

' They never were paid. None of us ever got
our wages. For some time the family has paid
nobody. The day before yesterday, the telephone
company sent a man to take away the instrument.
Then the electric light was cut off. When that
happens, it is all over.'

The man had heard of the phenomenon from a
colleague.

* And there is nobody ? They have nobody
at all?'

The Baroness had always been rich, and was
really trying to guess what would happen to
people who had no servants.

* There is my wife,' said the porter. ' But she
is old,' he added apologetically, ' and the palace is
big. Can she sweep out three hundred rooms,
cook for two families of masters and dress the
Princess's hair ? She cannot do it.'

This was stated with gloomy gravity. The
Baroness also shook her head in sympathy.

* There were sixteen servants in the house
yesterday,' continued the porter. ' I remember
when there were thirty, in the times of the old
Prince.'

' There would be still, if the family had been

THE HEART OF ROME 5

wise,' said the Baroness severely. * Is your wife
upstairs ? '

* Who knows where she is ? ' enquired the
porter by way of answer, and with the air of a
man who fears that he may never see his wife
again. * There are three hundred rooms. Who
knows where she is ? *

The Baroness was a practical woman by nature
and by force of circumstances ; she made up her
mind to go upstairs and see for herself how matters
stood. The name of Donna Clementina might not
just now carry much weight beside those of the
patronesses of a complicated charitable organiza-
tion ; in fact the poor lady must be in a position
to need charity herself rather than to dispense it
to others. But the Baroness had a deep-rooted
prejudice in favour of the old aristocracy, and
guessed that it would afterwards be counted to
her for righteousness if she could be the first to
offer boundless sympathy and limited help to the
distressed family.

It would be thought distinctly smart, for instance,
if she should take the Princess, or even one of the
unmarried daughters, to her own house for a few
days, as a refuge from the sordid atmosphere of
debt and ruin, and beyond the reach of vulgar
creditors, one of whom, by the way, she knew to
be her own excellent husband. The Princess was
probably not aware of that fact, for she had always
lived in sublime ignorance of everything connected
with money, even since her husband's death ; and
when good Pompeo Sassi tried to explain things, tell-
ing her that she was quite ruined, she never listened

6 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

to what he said. If the family had debts, why did
he not borrow money and pay them ? That was
what he was paid for doing, after all. It was true
that he had not been paid for a year or two, but
that was a wretched detail. Economy ? Had
not the Princess given up her second maid,
as an extravagance? What more did the man
expect ?

The Baroness knew all this and reflected upon
what she knew, as she deliberately got out of her
cab at the foot of the grand staircase.

' I will go upstairs myself,' she said.

' Padrona,' observed the porter, standing aside
with his broom.

He explained in a single word that she was at
liberty to go upstairs if she chose, that it was not
of the least use to go, and that he would not be
responsible for any disappointment if she were
afterwards not pleased. There is no language in
the world which can say more in one word than
the Italian, or less in ten thousand, according to
the humour of the speaker.

The Baroness took no notice as she went up the
stairs. She was not very tall, and was growing slowly
and surely stout, but she carried her rather large
head high and had cultivated importance, as a fine
art, with some success. She moved steadily, with
a muffled sound as of voluminous invisible silk
bellows that opened and shut at each step; her
outer dress was sombre, but fashionable, and she
wore a long gold chain of curious and fine work-
manship to carry her hand-glass, for she was near-
sighted. Her thick hair was iron-grey, her small

, THE HEART OF ROME 7

round eyes were vaguely dark with greenish lights,
her complexion was like weak coffee and milk,
sallow, but smooth, even and healthy. She was a
strong woman of fifty years, well used to the world
and its ways ; acquisitive, inquisitive and socially
progressive ; not knowing how to wish back any-
thing from the past, so long as there was anything
in the future to wish for ; a good wife for an
ambitious man.

The magnificent marble staircase already looked
neglected ; there were deep shadows of dust in
corners that should have been polished, there was
a coat of grey dust on the head and shoulders of
the colossal marble statue of Commodus in the
niche on the first landing ; in the great window
over the next, the armorial crowned eagle of the
Conti, cheeky, argent and sable, had a dejected
look, as if he were moulting.

It was in March, and though the sun was shin-
ing brightly outside, and the old porter wore his
linen jacket, as if it were already spring, there was
a cold draught down the staircase, and the Baroness
instinctively made haste up the steps, and was
glad when she reached the big swinging door
covered with red baize and studded with smart
brass nails, which gave access to the grand
apartment.

By force of habit, she opened it and went in.
There used to be always two men in the outer
hall, all day Jong, and sometimes four, ready to
announce visitors or to answer questions, as the
case might be. It was deserted now, a great,
dismal, paved hall, already dingy with dust. One

8 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

of the box-benches was open, and the tail of a
footman's livery greatcoat which had been thrown
in carelessly, hung over the edge and dragged on
the marble floor.

The Baroness realized that the porter had spoken
the truth and that all the servants had left the
house, as the rats leave a sinking ship. One must
really have seen an old ship sink in harbour to
know how the rats look, black and grey, fat and
thin, old and young, their tiny beads of eyes
glittering with fright as they scurry up the hatches
and make for every deck port and scupper, scram-
bling and tumbling over each other till they flop
into the water and swim away, racing for safety,
each making a long forked wake on the smooth
surface, with a steady quick ripple like the tearing
of thin paper into strips.

The strong middle-aged woman who stood alone
in the empty hall, knew nothing of sinking vessels
or the ways of rats, but she had known incidentally
of more than one catastrophe like this, in the course
of her husband's ascendant career, and somehow he
had always been mysteriously connected with each
one. An evil-speaking old diplomatist had once
said that he remembered Baron Volterra as a pawn-
broking dealer in antiquities, in Florence, thirty
years earlier ; there was probably no truth in the
story, but after Volterra was elected a Senator of
the Kingdom, a member of the opposition had
alluded to it with piquant irony and the result had
been the exchange of several bullets at forty paces,
whereby honour was satisfied without bloodshed.
The seconds, who were well disposed to both

. THE HEART OF ROME 9

parties, alone knew how much or how little powder
there was in the pistols, and they were discreet
men, who kept the secret.

The door leading to the antechamber was wide
open, and the Baroness went on deliberately, look-
ing about through her hand-glass, in the half light,
for the shutters were not all open. Dust every-
where, the dust that falls silently at night from
the ancient wooden ceilings and painted beams of
Roman palaces, the dust of centuries accumulated
above and sifting for ever to the floors below. It
was on the yellow marble pier tables, on the dim
mirrors in their eighteenth-century frames, on the
high canopy draped with silver and black beneath
which the effigy of another big cheeky eagle seemed
to be silently moulting under his antique crown,
the emblem of a race that had lived almost on the
same spot for eight hundred years, through good
and bad repute, but in nearly uninterrupted pros-
perity. The Baroness, who hankered after great-
ness, felt that the gloom was a twilight of gods.
She stood still before the canopy, the symbol of
princely rank and privilege ; the invisible silk
bellows were silent for a few seconds, and she
wondered whether there were any procurable sum
which she and her husband would grudge in
exchange for the acknowledged right to display
:i crowned eagle, cheeky, argent and sable, in their
hall, under a canopy draped with their own colours.
She sighed, since no one could hear her, and she
went on. The sigh was not only for the hopeless-
ness of ever reaching such social greatness ; it was
in part the outward show of a real regret that it

io THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

should have come to an untimely end. Her
admiration of princes was as sincere as her longing
to be one of them ; she had at least the melancholy
satisfaction of sympathizing with them in their
downfall. It brought her a little nearer to them
in imagination if not in fact.

The evolution of the snob has been going on
quickly of late, and quicker than ever since vast
wealth has given so many of the species the balance
of at least one sort of power in society. His
thoughts are still the same, but his outward shape
approaches strangely near to that of the human
being There are snobs now, who behave almost
as nicely in the privacy of their homes as in the
presence of a duchess. They are much more
particular as to the way in which others shall
behave to them. That is a test, by the bye. The
snob thinks most of the treatment he receives
from the world ; the gentleman thinks first how
he shall act courteously to others.

The Baroness went on and entered the outer
reception room, and looking before her she could
see through the open doors of the succeeding
drawing-rooms, where the windows had been
opened or perhaps not closed on the previous
evening. It was all vast, stately and deserted.
Only ten days earlier she had been in the same
place at a great reception, brilliant with beautiful
women and handsome men, alive with the flashing
of jewels and decorations in the vivid light, full of
the discreet noise of society in good-humour, full
of faces she knew, and voices familiar, and of the
moonlight of priceless pearls and the sunlight of

i THE HEART OF ROME 1 1

historic diamonds ; all of which manifestations
she dearly loved.

Her husband had perhaps known what was
coming, and how soon, but she had not. There
was something awful in the contrast. As she went
through one of the rooms a mouse ran from under
the fringe of a velvet curtain and took refuge
under an armchair. She had sat in that very chair
ten days ago and the Russian ambassador had talked
to her ; she remembered how he had tried to
extract information from her about the new issue
of three and half per cent national bonds, because
her husband was one of the financiers who were
expected to * manipulate ' the loan.

A portrait of a Conti in black velvet, by
Velasquez, looked down, coldly supercilious, at
the empty armchair under which the mouse was
hiding. It could make no difference, great or
small, to him, whether the Baroness Volterra ever
sat there again to talk with an ambassador ; he
had sat where he pleased, undisturbed in his own
house, to the end of his days, and no one can take
the past from the dead, except a modern German
historian.

Not a sound broke the stillness, except the
steady plash of the water falling into the fountain
in the wide court, heard distinctly through the
closed windows. The Baroness wondered if any
one were awake except the old porter downstairs.
She knew the house tolerably well. Only the
Princess and her two unmarried daughters slept in
the apartment she had entered, far off, at the very
end, in rooms at the corner overlooking the small

12 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

square and the narrow street. The rest of the old
palace was surrounded by dark and narrow streets,
but the court was wide and full of sunshine. The
only son of the house, though he was now the
Prince, lived on the floor above, with his young
wife and their only child, in what had been a
separate establishment, after the old Roman
custom.

The Baroness went to one of the embra-
sures of the great drawing-room and looked
through the panes at the windows of the upper
story. All that she could see were shut ; there
was not a sign of life in the huge building. Ruin
had closed in upon it and all it held, softly, with-
out noise and without pity.

It was their own fault, of course, but the
Baroness was sorry for them, for she was not quite
heartless, in spite of her hard face. The gloomiest
landscape must have a ray of light in it, somewhere.
It was all their own fault ; they should have known
better ; they should have counted what they had
instead of spending what they had not. But their
fall was great, as everything had been in their
prosperity, and it was interesting to be connected
with it. She faintly hoped Volterra would keep
the palace now that they could certainly never pay
any more interest on the mortgage, and it was
barely possible that she might some day live in
it herself, though she understood that it would be
in very bad taste to occupy it at once. But this
was unlikely, for her husband had a predilection
for a new house, in the new part of the city, full
of new furniture and modern French pictures. He

, THE HEART OF ROME 13

had a pronounced dislike for old things, including
old pictures and old jewelry, though he knew
much about both. Possibly they reminded him of
that absurd story, and of his duel at forty paces.

Voltcrra would sell the palace to the Vatican,
with everything in it, and would look about for
another lucrative investment. The Vatican bought
all the palaces in the market for religious institu-
tions, and when there were not enough * it ' built
the finest buildings in Rome for its own purposes.
Volterra was mildly anti-clerical in politics, but he
was particularly fond of dealing with the Vatican
for real estate. The Vatican was a most admir-
able house of business, in his estimation, keen,
punctual and always solvent ; it was good for a
financier to be associated with such an institution.
It drove a hard bargain, but there was never any
hesitation about fulfilling its obligations to the
last farthing. Dreaming over one of his enormous
Havanas after a perfect dinner, Baron Volterra,
Senator of the Kingdom of Italy, often wondered
whether the prosperity of the whole world would
not be vastly increased if the Vatican would con-
sent to be the general financial agent for the
European nations. Such stability as there would
be, such order ! Above all, such guarantees of
good faith ! Besides all that, there were its
cordial relations with the United States, that is
to say, with the chief source of the world's future
wealth ! The Senator's strongly-marked face grew
sweetly thoughtful as he followed his own visions
in the air, and when his wife spoke of living in
an antiquated Roman palace and buying an estate

i4 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

with an old title attached to it, which the King
might graciously be pleased to ratify, he playfully
tapped his wife's sallow cheek with two fat fingers
and smiled in a way that showed how superior he
was to such weakness. It was not even worth
while to say anything.

Once more the Baroness sighed as she turned
from the window. She meant to have her own
way in the end, but it was hard to wait so long.
She turned from the window, glanced at a beauti-
ful holy family by Bonifazio which hung on the
opposite wall above an alabaster table, estimated
its value instinctively and went on into the next
drawing-room.

As she passed through the door, a low cry of
pain made her start and hesitate, and she stood
still. The degree of her acquaintance with the
members of the family was just such that she
would not quite dare to intrude upon them if
they had given way to an expression of pardonable
weakness under their final misfortune, whereas if
they were bearing it with reasonable fortitude she
could allow herself to offer her sympathy and even
some judicious help.

She stood still and the sound was repeated, the
pitiful little tearless complaint of a young thing
suffering alone. It was somewhere in the big
room, hidden amongst the furniture ; which was
less stiffly arranged here than in the outer apart-
ments. There were books and newspapers on the
table, the fireplace was half-full of the ashes of a
burnt-out fire, there were faded flowers in a tall
vase near the window, there was the undefinable

i THE HEART OF ROME 15

presence of life in the heavier and warmer air. At
first the Baroness had thought that the cry came
from some small animal, hurt and forgotten there
in the great catastrophe ; a moment later she was
sure that there was some one in the room.

She moved cautiously forward in the direction
whence the sound had come. Then she saw the
edge of a fawn-coloured cloth skirt on the red
carpet by an armchair. She went on, hesitating
no longer. She had seen the frock only a day or
two ago, and it belonged to Sabina Conti.

A very fair young girl was kneeling in the
shadow, crouching over something on the floor.
Her hair was like the pale mist in the morning,
tinged with gold. She was very slight, and as she
bent down, her slender neck was dazzling white
above the collar of her frock. She was trembling
a little.

* My dear Sabina, what has happened ? * asked
the Baroness Volterra, leaning over her with an
audible crack in the region of the waist.

At the words the girl turned up her pale face,
without the least start of surprise.

* It is dead,' she said, in a very low voice.
The Baroness looked down, and saw a small

bunch of yellow feathers lying on the floor at the
girl's knees ; the poor little head with its colourless
beak lay quite still on the red carpet, turned upon
one side, as if it were resting.

* A canary,' observed the Baroness, who had
never had a pet in her life, and had always
wondered how any one could care for such stupid
things.

1 6 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

But the violet eyes gazed up to hers reproach-
fully and wonderingly.

* It is dead.'

That should explain everything ; surely the
woman must understand. Yet there was no
response. The Baroness stood upright again,
grasping her parasol and looking down with a sort
of respectful indifference. Sabina said nothing,
but took up the dead bird very tenderly, as if it
could still feel that she loved it, and she pressed it
softly to her breast, bending her head to it, and
then kissing the yellow feathers. When it was
alive it used to nestle there, almost as it lay now.
It had been very tame.

* I suppose a cat killed it,' said the Baroness,
wishing to say something.

Sabina shook her head. She had found it
lying there, not wounded, its feathers not torn —
just dead. It was of no use to answer. She rose
to her feet, still holding the tiny body against her
bosom, and she looked at the Baroness, mutely
asking what had brought her there, and wishing
that she would go away.

' I came to see your sister,' said the elder
woman, with something like apology in the tone.

Sabina was still very pale, and her delicate lips
were pressed together, but there were no tears in
her eyes, as she waited for the Baroness to say
more.

' Then I heard the bad news,' the latter con-
tinued. * I heard it from the porter.'

Sabina looked at her quietly. If she had heard
the bad news, why had she not gone away ? The

, THE HEART OF ROME 17

Baroness began to feel uncomfortable. She almost
quailed before the pale girl of seventeen, slender
as a birch sapling in her light frock.

* It occurred to me,' she continued nervously,
'that I might be of use.'

* You are very kind,' Sabina answered, with the
faintest air of surprise, * but I really do not see
that you could do anything.'

' Perhaps your mother would allow you to
spend a few days with me — until things are more
settled,' suggested the Baroness.

* Thank you very much. I do not think she
would like that. She would not wish me to be
away from her just now, I am sure. Why should
I leave her ? '

The Baroness Volterra did not like to point out
that the Princess Conti might soon be literally
homeless.

'May I ask your mother?' she enquired.
' Should you like to come to me for a few days ? '

* If my mother wishes it.'

* But should you like to come ? ' persisted the
elder woman.

' If my mother thinks it is best,' answered
Sabina, avoiding the Baroness's eyes, as she resolutely
avoided answering the direct question.

But the Baroness was determined if possible to
take in one of the family, and it had occurred to her
that Sabina would really be less trouble than her
mother or elder sister. Clementina was the eldest
and was already looked upon as an old maid. She
was intensely devout, and that was always trouble-
some, for it meant that she would insist upon

c

1 8 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

going to church at impossibly early hours, and
must have fish-dinners on Fridays. But it would
certainly be conferring a favour on the Princess to
take Sabina off her hands at such a time. The
devout Clementina could take care of herself.
With her face, the Baroness reflected, she would
be safe among Cosacks ; besides, she could go into
a retreat, and stay there, if necessary. Sabina was
quite different.

The Princess thought so too, as it turned out.
Sabina took the visitor to her mother's door,
knocked, opened and then went away, still press-
ing her dead canary to her bosom, and infinitely
glad to be alone with it at last.

There was confusion in the Princess Conti's
bedroom, the amazing confusion which boils up
about an utterly careless woman of the great
world, if she be accidentally left without a maid
for twenty -four hours. It seemed as if every-
thing the Princess possessed in the way of clothes,
necessary and unnecessary, had been torn from
wardrobes and chests of drawers by a cyclone and
scattered in every direction, till there was not
space to move or sit down in a room which was
thirty feet square.

Princess Conti was a very stout woman of
about the same age as her visitor, but not resem-
bling her in the least. She had been beautiful,
and still kept the dazzling complexion and mag-
nificent eyes for which she had been famous. It
was her boast that she slept eight hours every
night, without waking, whatever happened, and
she always advised everybody to do the same, with

THE HEART OF ROME 19

an airy indifference to possibilities which would
have done credit to a doctor.

She was dressed, or rather wrapped, in a mag-
nificent purple velvet dressing-gown, trimmed
with sable, and tied round her ample waist with a
silver cord, her rather scanty grey hair stood out
about her head like a cloud in a high wind, and
her plump hands were encased in a pair of old
white gloves, which looked oddly out of place.
She was standing in the middle of the room, and
she smiled calmly as the Baroness entered. On a
beautiful inlaid table beside her stood a battered
brass tray with an almost shapeless little brass
coffee-pot, a common earthenware cup, chipped at
the edges, and three pieces of doubtful -looking
sugar in a tiny saucer, also of brass. The whole
had evidently been brought from a small cafe near
by, which had long been frequented by the servants
from the palace.

Judging from her smile, the Princess seemed
to think total ruin rather an amusing incident.
She had always complained that the Romans were
very dull ; for she was not a Roman herself, but
came of a very -great old Polish family, the
members of which had been distinguished for
divers forms of amiable eccentricity during a
couple of centuries.

She looked at the Baroness, and smiled pleas-
antly, showing her still perfect teeth.

' I always said that this would happen,' she
observed. * I always told my poor husband so.'

As the Prince had been dead ten years, the
Baroness thought that he might not be wholly

20 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

responsible for the ruin of his estate, but she
discreetly avoided the suggestion. She began to
make a little apology for her visit.

* But I am delighted to see you ! ' cried the
Princess. ' You can help me to pack. You
know I have not a single maid, not a woman in
the house, nor a man either. Those ridiculous
servants fled last night as if we had the plague ! '

* So you are going out of town ? ' enquired the
Baroness, laying down her parasol.

' Of course. Clementina has decided to be a
nun, and is going to the convent this morning.
So sensible of her, poor dear ! It is true that she
has made up her mind to do it three or four times
before now, but the circumstances were different,
and I hope this will be final. She will be much
happier.'

The Princess stirred the muddy coffee in the
chipped earthenware cup, and then sipped it
thoughtfully, sipped it again, and made a face.

' You see my breakfast,' she said, and then
laughed, as if the shabby brass tray were a part
of the train of amusing circumstances. * The
porter's wife went and got it at some dirty little
cafe,' she added.

' How dreadful ! ' exclaimed the Baroness, with
more real sympathy in her voice than she had yet
shown.

* I assure you,' the Princess answered serenely,
' that I am glad to have any coffee at all. I
always told poor dear Paolo that it would come
to this.'

She swallowed the rest of the coffee with a

, THE HEART OF ROME 21

grimace, and set down the cup. Then, with' the
most natural gesture in the world, she pushed the
tray a little way across the inlaid table, towards
the Baroness, as she would have pjshed it towards
her maid, and as if she wished the thing taken away.
She did it merely from force of habit, no doubt.

Baroness Volterra understood well enough, and
for a moment she affected not- to see. The
Princess had the blood of Polish kihgs in her veins,
mingled with that of several1 mediatized princes,
but that was no reason why she should treat a
friend like a servant ; especially as the friend's
husband practically owned the. : palace and its
contents, and had lent the money with which the
high and mighty lady and her son had finally
ruined themselves. Yet so overpowering is the
moral domination of the born aristocrat over the
born snob, that the Baroness changed her mind,
and humbly took the obnoxious tray away and set
it down on another table near the door.

'Thank you so much,' said the rrincess
graciously. * It smells, you know.'

' Of course,' answered the Baroness. ' I't is not
coffee at all ! It is made of chicory and acorns.'

4 1 do not know what it is made of,':said- the
Princess, without interest, ' but it has an atrociously
bad smell, and it has made a green stain on my
handkerchief.'

She looked at the bit of transparently fine-linen
with which she had touched her lips, and threw it
under the table.

* And Sabina ? ' began the Baroness. ' What
shall you do with her ? '

22 ll-it, ttfcAKl Ub KUMiL CHAP.

c I wish I knew ! You see, my daughter-in-law
has a little place somewhere in the Maremma. It
is an awful hole, I believe, and very unhealthy,
but we shall have to stay there for a few days.
Then I shall go to Poland and see my brother. I
am sure he can arrange everything at once, and we
shall come back to Rome in the autumn, of course,
just as usual. Sassi told me only last week that
two or three millions would be enough. And
what is that ? My brother is so rich ! '

The stout Princess shrugged her shoulders
carelessly, as if a few millions of francs more or
less could really not be such a great matter.
Somebody had always found money for her to
spend, and there was no reason why obliging
persons should not continue to do the same. The
Baroness showed no surprise, but wondered
whether the Princess might not have to lunch,
and dine too, on some nauseous little mess brought
to her on a battered brass tray. It was quite
possible that she might not find five francs in her
purse ; it was equally possible that she might find
five thousand ; the only thing quite sure was that
she had not taken the trouble to look, and did not
care a straw.

' Can I be of any immediate use ? ' asked the
Baroness with unnecessary timidity. ' Do you
need ready money ? '

' Ready money ? ' echoed the Princess with
alacrity. ' Of course I do ! I told you, Sassi
says that two or three millions would be enough
to go on with.'

' I did not mean that. I am afraid '

i THE HEART OF ROME 23

' Oh ! ' ejaculated the Princess with a little
disappointment. ' Nothing else would be of any
use. Of course I have money for any little thing
I need. There is my purse. Do you mind
looking ? I know I had two or three thousand
francs the other day. There must be something
left. Please count it. I never can count right,
you know.'

The Baroness took up the mauve morocco
pocket-book to which the Princess pointed. It
had a clasp in which a pretty sapphire was set ;
she opened it and took out a few notes and silver
coins, which she counted.

' There are fifty-seven francs,' she said.

* Is that all ? ' asked the Princess with supreme
indifference. ' How very odd ! '

* You can hardly leave Rome with so little,'
observed the Baroness. ' Will you not allow me
to lend you five hundred ? I happen to have a
five hundred franc note in my purse, for I was
going to pay a bill on my way home.*

( Thanks,' said the Princess. ' That will save
me the trouble of sending for Sassi. He always
bores me dreadfully with his figures. Thank you
very much.'

'Not at all, dear friend,' the Baroness answered.
' It is a pleasure, I assure you. But I had thought
of asking if you would let Sabina come and stay
with me for a little while, until your affairs are
more settled.'

* Oh, would you do that ? ' asked the Princess
with something like enthusiasm. * I really do not
know what to do with the girl. Of course, I

24 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

could take her to Poland and marry her there,
but she is so peculiar, such a strange child, not at
all like me. It really would be immensely kind
of you to take her, if your husband does not
object.'

* He will be delighted.'

' Yes,' acquiesced the Princess calmly. ' You
see,' she continued in a meditative tone, 'if I sent
her to stay with any of our cousins here, I am sure
they would ask her all sorts of questions about our
affairs, and she is so silly that she would blurt out
everything she fancied she knew, whether it were
true or not — about my son and his wife, you know,
and then, the money questions. Poor Sabina ! she
has not a particle of tact ! It really would be
good of you to take her. I shall be so grateful.'

* I will bring my maid to pack her things,'
suggested the Baroness.

* Yes. If she could only help me to pack mine
too ! Do you think she would ? '

* Of course ! '

'You are really the kindest person in the world,'
said the Princess. ' I was quite in despair, when
you came. Just look at those things ! '

She pointed to the chairs and sofas, covered
with clothes and dresses.

' But your boxes, where are they ? ' asked the
Baroness.

{ I have not the least idea ! I sent the porter's
wife to try and find them, but she has never come
back. She is so stupid, poor old thing ! '

' 1 think I had better bring a couple of men-
servants,' said the Baroness. ' They may be of

THE HEART OF ROME 25

use. Should you like my carriage to take you to
the station ? Anything I can do—-
The Princess stared, as if quite puzzled.
' Thanks, but we have plenty of horses,' she said.

* Yes, but you said that all your servants had
left last night. I supposed the coachman and
grooms were gone too.'

' I daresay they are ! ' The Princess laughed.
'Then we will go in cabs. It will be very amusing.
By the bye, I wonder whether those brutes of men
thought of leaving the poor horses anything to
eat, and water ! I must really go and see. Poor
beasts ! They will be starving. Will you come
with me ? '

She moved towards the door, really very much
concerned, for she loved horses.

* Will you go down like that ? ' asked the
Baroness aghast, glancing at the purple velvet
dressing-gown, and noticing, as the Princess moved,
that her feet, on which she wore small kid slippers,
were stockingless.

'Why not ? I shall not catch cold. I never do.'
The Baroness would have given anything to be
above caring whether any one should ever see her,
or not, on the stairs of her house in a purple
dressing-gown, without stockings and with her
hair standing on end ; and she pondered on the
ways of the aristocracy she adored, especially as
represented by her excellency Marie-Sophie-
Hedwige - Zenaide - Honorine - Pia Rubomirska,
Dowager Princess Conti. Ever afterwards she
associated purple velvet and bare feet with the idea
of financial catastrophe, knowing in her heart that

26 THE HEART OF ROME CHAF.

even ruin would seem bearable if it could bring
her such magnificent indifference to the details of
commonplace existence.

At that moment, however, she felt that she was
in the position of a heaven-sent protectress to the
Princess.

4 No,' she said firmly. ' I will go myself to the
stables, and the porter shall feed the horses if
there is no groom. You really must not go down
stairs looking like that ! '

* Why not ? ' asked the Princess, surprised.
' But of course, if you will be so kind as to see
whether the horses need anything, it is quite
useless for me to go myself. You will promise ?
I am sure they are starving by this time.'

The Baroness promised solemnly, and said that
she would come back within an hour, with her
servants, to take away Sabina and to help the
Princess's preparations. In consideration of all
she was doing the Princess kissed her on both her
sallow cheeks as she took her leave. The Princess
attached no importance at all to this mark of
affectionate esteem, but it pleased the Baroness
very much.

Just as the latter was going away, the door
opened suddenly, and a weak-looking young man
put in his head.

' Mamma ! Mamma ! ' he cried, in a thin tone
of distress, almost as if he were going to cry.

He was nearly thirty years old, though he
looked younger. He was thin, and pale, with a
muddy and spotted complexion, and his scanty
black hair grew far back on his poorly developed

, THE HEART OF ROME 27

forehead. His eyes had a look that was half
startled, half false. Though he was carefully
dressed he had not shaved, because he could not
shave himself and his valet had departed with the
rest of the servants. He was the Princess's only
son, himself the present Prince, and the heir of all
the Conti since the year eleven hundred.

* Mamma ! '

' What is the matter, sweetheart ? ' asked the
Princess, with ready sympathy. * Your hands are
quite cold ! Are you ill ? '

4 The child ! Something has happened to it —
we do not know — it looks so strange — its eyes are
turned in and it is such a dreadful colour — do
come '

But the Princess was already on her way, and
he spoke the last words as he ran after her. She
turned her head as she went on.

* For heaven's sake send a doctor ! ' she cried
to the Baroness, and in a moment she was gone,
with the weak young man close at her side.

The Baroness nodded quickly, and when all
three reached the door she left the two to go
upstairs and ran down, with a tremendous puffing
of the invisible silk bellows.

* The Prince's little girl is very ill,' she said, as
she passed the porter, who was now polishing the
panes of glass in the door of his lodge, because he
had done the same thing every morning for twenty
years.

He almost dropped the dingy leather he was
using, but before he could answer, the cab passed
out, bearing the Baroness on her errand.

CHAPTER II

SIGNOR POMPEO SASSI sat in his dingy office and
tore his hair, in the good old literal Italian sense.
His elbows rested on the shabby black oilcloth
glued to the table, and his long knotted fingers
twisted his few remaining locks, on each side of
his head, in a way that was painful to see. From
time to time he desisted for an instant, and held
up his open hands, the fingers quivering with
emotion, and his watery eyes were turned upwards,
too, as if directing an unspoken prayer to the
dusty rafters of the ceiling. The furrows had
deepened of late in his respectable, trust-inspiring
face, and he was as thin as a skeleton in leather.

His heart was broken. On the big sheet of
thick hand-made paper, that lay on the desk,
scribbled over with rough calculations in violet
ink, there were a number of trial impressions of
the old stamp he had once been so proud to use.
It bore a rough representation of the Conti eagle,
encircled by the legend : ' Eccellentissima Casa
Conti.' When his eyes fell upon it, they filled
with tears. The Most Excellent House of Conti
had come to a pitiful end, and it had been Pompeo
Sassi's unhappy fate to see its fall. Judging from

28

our. n THE HEART OF ROM I 29

his looks, he was not to survive the catastrophe
very long.

He loved the family, and yet he disliked every
member of it personally except Sabina. He loved
the ' Eccellentissima Casa,' the cheeky eagle, the
Velasquez portraits and his dingy office, but he
never had spoken with the Princess, her son,
his wife, or his sister Clementina, without a dis-
tinct feeling of disapproving aversion. The old
Prince had been different. In him Sassi had still
been able to respect those traditional Ciceronian
virtues which were inculcated with terrific severity
in the Roman youth of fifty years ago. But
the Prince had died prematurely at the age of
fifty, and with him the Ciceronian traditions had
ended in Casa Conti, and their place had been
taken by the caprices of the big, healthy, indolent,
extravagant Polish woman, by the miserable
weaknesses of a degenerate heir, and the fanatic
religious practices of Donna Clementina.

Sassi was sure that they all three hated him or
despised him, or both ; yet they could not spare
him. For different reasons, they all needed money,
and they had long been used to believing that no
one but Sassi could get it for them, since no one
else knew how deeply the family was involved.
He always made difficulties, he protested, he
wrung his hands, he warned, he implored ; but
caprice, vice and devotion always overcame his
objections, and year after year the exhausted
estate was squeezed and pressed and mortgaged
and sold, till it had yielded the uttermost farthing.
Then, one day, the whole organization of Casa

30 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

Conti stood still ; the unpaid servants fled, the
unpaid tradesmen refused to trust any longer, the
unpaid holders of mortgages foreclosed, the
Princess departed to Poland, the Prince slunk
away to live on what was left of his wife's small
estate, Donna Clementina buried herself in a
convent to which she had given immense sums,
the Conti palace was for sale, and Pompeo Sassi
sat alone in his office, tearing his hair, while the
old porter sat in his lodge downstairs peeling
potatoes.

It was not for himself that the old steward of
the estate was in danger of being totally bald.
He had done for himself what others would not
allow him to do for them, a proceeding which
affords some virtuous people boundless satisfac-
tion, though it procured him none at all. He
was provided for in his old age. During more
than thirty years he had saved and scraped and
invested and added to the little sum of money
left him by his father, an honest old notary of the
old school, until he possessed what was a very
comfortable competence for a childless old man.
He had a small house of his own near the Pantheon,
in which he occupied two rooms, letting the rest,
and he had a hundred thousand francs in govern-
ment bonds, besides a few acres of vineyard on the
slope of Monte Mario.

More than once, in the sincerity of his devotion
to the family he served, he had thought of sacrific-
ing all he possessed in an attempt to stave off final
ruin ; but a very little reflexion had convinced
him that all he had would be a mere drop

„ THE HEART OF ROME 31

in the flood of extravagance, and would forthwith
disappear with the rest into the bottomless pit of
debt.

Even that generous temptation was gone now.
The house having collapsed, its members appeared
to him only in their true natures, a good-
for-nothing young man, tainted with a mortal
disease, a foolish mother, a devout spinster
threatened with religious mania, and the last
descendant of the great old race, one little girl-
child not likely to live, and perhaps better dead.
In their several ways they had treated him as the
contemptible instrument of their inclinations ; they
were gone from his life and he was glad of it,
when he thought of each one separately. Yet,
collectively, he wished them all in the palace again,
even a month ago, even on the day before the
exodus ; good, bad, indifferent, no matter what,
they had been Casa Conti still, to the end, the
family he had served faithfully, honestly and hope-
lessly for upwards of a third of a century. That
might seem to be inconsistent, but it was the only
consistency he had ever known, and it was loyalty,
of a kind.

But there was one whom he wished back for
her own sake ; there was Donna Sabina. When
he thought of her, his hands fell from his head
at last, and folded themselves over the scrawled
figures on the big sheet of paper, and he looked
long and steadily at them, without seeing them
at all.

He wondered what would become of her. He
had seen her on the last day and he should never

32 THE HEART OF ROME

forget it. Before going away with the Baroness
Volterra she had found her way to his dark office,
and had stood a few moments before the shabby
old table, with a small package in her hand. He
could see the slight figure still, when he closed his
eyes, and her misty hair against the cold light of
the window. She had come to ask him if he would
bury her dead canary, somewhere under the sky
where there was grass and it would not be dis-
turbed. Where could she bury it, down in the
heart of Rome? She had wrapped it in a bit of
pink satin and had laid it in a little brown card-
board box which had been full of chocolates from
Ronzi and Singer's in Piazza Colonna. She
pushed back the lid a finger's breadth and he
saw the pink satin for a second. She laid the
box before him. Would he please do what she
asked ? Very timidly she slipped a simple little
ring off her finger, one of those gold ones with the
sacred monogram which foreigners insist upon
calling 'Pax.' She said she had bought it with
her own money, and could give it away. She
wished to give it to him. He protested, refused,
but the fathomless violet eyes gazed into his very
reproachfully. He had always been so kind to
her, she said ; would he not keep the little ring to
remember her by ?

So he had taken it, and that same day he had
gone all the way to his lonely vineyard on Monte
Mario carrying the chocolate box in his hands, and
he had buried it under the chestnut-tree at the
upper end, where there was some grass ; and the
breeze always blew there on summer afternoons.

,, THE HEART OF ROME 33

Then he had sat on the roots of the tree for a
while, looking towards Rome.

He would have plenty of time to go to the
vineyard now, for in a little while he should have
nothing to do, as the palace was going to be sold.
When he got home, he wrote a formal letter to
Donna Sabina, informing her that he had fulfilled
the commands she had deigned to give him, and
ventured to subscribe himself her Excellency's
most devoted humble and grateful servant, as
indeed he was, from the bottom of his heart. In
twenty-four hours he received a note from her,
written in a delicate tall hand, not without
character, on paper bearing the address of Baron
Volterra's house in Via Ludovisi. She thanked
him in few words, warmly and simply. He read
the note several times and then put it away in an
old-fashioned brass bound secretary, of which he
always kept the key in his pocket. It was the
only word of thanks he had received from any
living member of the Conti family.

A month had passed since then, but as he sat
at his desk it was all as vivid as if it had happened
yesterday.

He was in his office to-day because he had
received notice that some one was coming to look
at the palace with a view to buying it, and he
considered it his duty to show it to possible
purchasers. Baron Volterra had sent him word in
the morning, and he had come early. Then, as
he sat in his old place, the ruin of the great
house had enacted itself again before his eyes, so
vividly that the pain had been almost physical.

34 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP, n

And then, he had fallen to thinking of Sabina,
and wondering what was to become of her.

That was the history of one half-hour in his
life, on a May afternoon, but the whole man was
in it, what he had been thirty years earlier, and a
month ago, what he was to-day and what he
would be to the end of his life.

CHAPTER III

IF Sabina had known what was before her when
she got into the Baroness Volterra's carriage and
was driven up to the Via Ludovisi, followed by a
cab with her luggage, she would probably have
begged leave to go with her elder sister to the
convent. Her mother would most likely have
refused the permission, and she would have been
obliged to accept the Volterra s hospitality
after all, but she would have had the satisfaction
of having made an effort to keep her freedom
before entering into what she soon looked upon as
slavery.

Her mother would have considered this another
evidence of the folly inherent in all the Conti
family. Sabina lived in a luxurious house, she
was treated with consideration, she saw her friends,
and desirable young men saw her. What more
could she wish ?

All this was true. The Baroness was at great
pains to make much of her, and the Baron's
manner to her was at once flattering, respectful
and paternal. During the first few days she had
discovered that if she accidentally expressed the
smallest wish it was instantly fulfilled, and this was

35

36 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

so embarrassing that she had since taken endless
pains never to express any wish at all. Moreover
not the slightest allusion to the misfortunes of her
family was ever made before her, and if she was
in total ignorance of the state of affairs, she was
at least spared the humiliation of hearing that the
palace was for sale, and might be sold any day, to
any one who would pay the price asked.

From time to time the Baroness said she hoped
that Sabina had good news of her mother, but
showed no curiosity in the matter, and the girl
always answered that she believed her mother to
be quite well. Indeed she did believe it, for she
supposed that if the Princess were ill some one
would let her know. She wrote stiff little letters
herself, every Sunday morning, and addressed
them to her uncle's place in Poland ; but no one
ever took the least notice of these conscientious
communications, and she wondered why she sent
them, after all. It was a remnant of the sense of
duty to her parents instilled into her in the
convent, and she could not help clinging to it
still, from habit.

She had a few friends of her own age, and they
came to see her now and then. They were
mostly companions of her recent convent days,
and they asked her many questions, to most of
which she had no answer. She noticed that they
looked surprised, but they were well brought up
girls, and kept their reflections to themselves,
until they were at home.

The Conti had fewer near relations than most
Roman families, for of late they had not been

in THE HEART OF ROME 37

numerous. The Prince's only sister had died
childless, the dowager Princess was a Pole, and
her daughter-in-law was a Tuscan. Sabinaand her
generation had therefore no first cousins ; and
those who were one degree or more removed were
glad that they had not been asked to take charge
of the girl after the catastrophe. It would have
been all very well merely to give her a room and
a place at table, but the older ones shook their
heads, and said that before long the Baroness
Volterra would have to dress her too, and give
her pocket-money. Her good-for-nothing brother
would not do anything for her, if he could, and
the Princess, who was amusing herself in Poland,
if not in Paris, was capable of forgetting her
existence for a year at a time.

All these things greatly enhanced the outward
and visible merit of the Volterra couple, but made
Sabina's position daily less endurable. So the
Baroness laid up treasures in heaven while Sabina
unwillingly stored trouble on earth.

She was proud, to begin with. It was bad
enough to have been ordered by her mother to
accept the hospitality of people she did not like,
but it was almost unbearable to realise by degrees
that she was living on their effusive charity. If
she had been as vain as she was proud, she would
probably have left their house to take refuge in
her sister's convent, for her vanity could not have
borne the certainty that all society knew what her
position was. The foundation of pride is the wish
to respect oneself, whatever others may think ; the
mainspring of vanity is the craving for the admira-

38 THE HEART OF ROME

tion of others, no matter at what cost to one's
self-respect. In the Conti family these qualities
and defects were unevenly distributed, for while
pride seemed to have been left out in the character
of Sabina's brother, who was vain and arrogant,
she herself was as unspoilt by vanity as she was
plentifully supplied with the characteristic which is
said to have caused Lucifer's fall, but which has
been the mainstay of many a greatly-tempted man
and woman. Perhaps what is a fault in angels
may seem to be almost a virtue in humanity, com-
pared with the meanness of worse failings.

Sabina was not suspicious, yet she could not
help wondering why the Baroness had been so very
anxious to take her in, and sometimes she thought
that the object might be to marry her to one of
Volterra's two sons. One was in a cavalry regi-
ment stationed in Turin, the other was in the
diplomacy and was now in Washington. They
were both doing very well in their careers and
their father and mother often talked of them.

The Baron was inclined to be playful now and
then.

' Ah, my dear young lady,' he would cry,
shaking one fat finger at Sabina across the dinner
table, ' take care, take care ! You will lose your
heart to both my boys and sow discord in my
family ! '

At this he never failed to laugh, and his wife
responded with a smile of motherly pride, followed
by a discreet side glance at Sabina's delicate face.
Then the finely-pencilled eyebrows were just the
least bit more arched for a second, and the slender

111 THE HEART OF ROME 39

neck grew slightly straighten, but that was all, and
the Baron did not even see the change. Some-
times Sabina said nothing, but sometimes she asked
if the sons were coming home on leave. No, they
were not coming at present. In the spring Vol-
terra and his wife generally spent a few weeks in
Turin, to see the elder son, on their way to Aix
and Paris, but his brother could hardly expect to
come home for another year. Then the couple
would talk about both the young men, until
Sabina's attention wandered, and she no longer
heard what they were saying.

She did not believe that they really thought of
trying to marry her to one of the sons. In her
own opinion they could gain nothing by it ; she
had no dowry now, and her mother had always
talked of marriage as a business transaction. It
did not occur to her that they could care to be
allied with a ruined family, and that her mere name
could be worth anything in their scale of values.
They were millionaires, of course, and even the
dowry which she might formerly have expected
would have been nothing compared 'with their
fortune ; but her mother had always said that rich
people were the very people who cared the most
for money. That was the reason why they were
rich. This explanation was so logical that Sabina
had accepted it as the true one.

Her knowledge of the world was really limited
to what she had learned from her mother, after
she had come back from the convent six months
before the crash, and it was an odd mixture of
limitations and exaggerations. When the Princess

40 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

was in a good humour she believed in everybody,
when she was not, which was when she had no
money to throw away, she attributed the basest
motives to all mankind. According to her moods,
she had encouraged Sabina to look forward to a
life of perpetual pleasure, or had assured her with
energy that all men were liars, and that the world
was a wretched place after all. It was true that
the Princess entertained the cheerful view more
often than not, which was perhaps fortunate for
her daughter ; but in her heart the young girl felt
that she would have to rely on her own common
sense to form any opinion of life, and as her posi-
tion became more difficult, while the future did
not grow more defined, she tried to think con-
nectedly about it all, and to reach some useful
conclusion.

It was not easy. In her native city, living
under the roof of people who held a strong posi-
tion in the society to which she belonged, though
they had not been born to it, she was as completely
isolated as if she had been suddenly taken away
and set down amongst strangers in Australia. She
was as lonely as she could have been on a desert
island.

The Volterra couple were radically, constitu-
tionally, congenitally different from the men and
women she had seen in her mother's house. She
could not have told exactly where the difference
lay, for she was too young, and perhaps too simple.
She did not instinctively like them, but she had
never really felt any affection for her mother
either, and her own brother and sister had always

,u THE HEART OF ROME 41

repelled her. Her mother had sometimes treated
her like a toy, but more often as a nuisance and a
hindrance in life, to be kept out of the way as
much as possible, and married off on the first
opportunity. Yet Sabina knew that far down in her
nature there was a mysterious tie of some sort, an
intuition that often told her what her mother would
say or do, though she herself would have spoken
and acted otherwise. She had felt it even with her
brother and sister, but she could not feel it at all
with the Baron or his wife. She never could guess
what they might do or say under the most ordinary
circumstances, nor what things they would like and
dislike, nor how they would regard anything she
said or did ; least of all could she understand why
they were so anxious to keep her with them.

It was all a mystery, but life itself was mys-
terious, and she was little more than a child in
years though she had never had what one calls a
real childhood.

She often used to sit by her window, the sliding
blinds partly drawn together, but leaving a space
through which she looked down at the city, with a
glimpse of Saint Peter's in the distance against the
warm haze of the low Campagna. Rome seemed as far
from her then as if she saw it in a vision a thousand
miles away, and the very faint sounds from the
distance were like voices in a dream. Then, if
she closed her eyes a moment, she could see the
dark streets about the Palazzo Conti, and the one
open corner of the palace, high up in the sunlight ;
she could smell the acrid air that used to come up
to her in the early morning when the panes were

42 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

opened, damp and laden with odours not sweet
but familiar in the heart of Rome ; odours com-
pounded of cabbages, stables, cheese and mud, and
occasionally varied by the fumes of roasting coffee,
or the sour vapours from a wine cart that was
unloading stained casks, all wet with red juice, at
the door of the wine shop far below, a dark little
wine shop with a dry bush stuck out through a
smoky little grated window, and a humble sign
displaying the prices of drink in roughly painted
blue and red figures. For her room had looked
upon the narrowest and darkest of the streets,
though it had been stately enough within, and
luxuriously furnished, besides containing some
objects of value and beauty over which there would
be much bidding and squabbling of amateurs and
experts when the great sale took place.

It had been gloomy and silent and loveless,
the life down there ; and yet she would have gone
back to it if she could, from the sunshine of the
Via Ludovisi, and from the overpowering fresh-
ness of the Volterra house, where everything was
modern, and polished, and varnished, and in per-
fect condition, suggesting that things had been
just paid for. She had not liked the old life, but
she liked her present surroundings even less, and
at times she felt a furious longing to leave them
suddenly, without warning ; to go out when no
one would notice her, and never to come back ;
to go she knew not where, out into the world,

O *

risking she knew not what, a high-born, penniless,
fair-haired girl not yet eighteen.

What would happen, if she did ? She rarely

in THE HEART OF ROME 43

laughed, but she would laugh at that, when she
thought of the consternation her flight would pro-
duce. How puzzled the fat Baron would look, how
the Baroness's thin mouth would be dra\vn down
at the corners ! How the invisible silk bellows
would puff as she ran up and down stairs, search-
ing the house for Sabina !

There was more than one strain of wild blood
in the delicate girl's veins, and the spring had come
suddenly, with a bursting out of blossom and life
and colour, and a twittering of nesting birds in the
old gardens, and a rush of strange longings in her
heart.

Then Sabina told herself that there was nothing
to keep her where she was, but her own will, and
that no one would really care what became of her
in the wide world ; certainly not her mother, who
had never written her so much as a line, nor sent
her a message, since they had parted on the day of
the catastrophe ; certainly not her brother ; prob-
ably not even her sister, whose whole being was
absorbed in the tyrannical government of what she
called her soul. Sabina, in her thoughts, irreverently
compared Clementina's soul to a race-horse, and
her sister to a jockey, riding it cruelly with whip
and spur to the goal of salvation, whether it liked
it or not.

Sabina rose from her seat by the window, when
she thought of liberty, and she walked up and
down her room, driven by something she could not
understand, and yet withheld by something she
understood even less. For it was not fear, nor
reflection, nor even common sense nor the thought

44 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

of giving pain to any one that hindered her from
leaving the house at such moments. It was not
even the memory of the one human being who
had hitherto loved her, and for whom she had felt
affection and gratitude, one of the nuns at the
convent school, a brave, quiet little lady who
made her believe in good. She meant to do no
harm if she were free, and the nun would not
really blame her, if she knew the truth.

It was not that. It was the secret conviction
that there was harm in the world from which
mere courage could not protect her ; it was the
sort of instinct that warns young animals
not to eat plants that are poisonous ; it was the
maiden intuition of a strange and unknown
danger.

She sat down again disconsolately. It was
absurd, of course, and she could not run away.
Where could she go ? She had no money, and she
would have to starve or beg before one day was out.
She would be homeless, she would be driven to some
house of charity, for a meal and a place to sleep,
or else to sleep out under the sky. That would
be delightful for once. She had always longed to
sleep out of doors once, to feel the breeze playing
with her feathery hair in the dark, to watch the
constellations turning slowly westwards, to listen
to the night sounds, to the low rhythmical piping
of the tree toad, the sorrowful cry of the little
southern owl and the tolling of the hour in a
far-off belfry.

But it might rain. At the idea, Sabina laughed
again. It would be very unpleasant to be caught

in THE HEART OF ROME 45

in a shower while napping on a bench in a public
garden. Besides, if the policemen found her there,
an extremely young lady, extremely well dressed
but apparently belonging to no one, they would in
all likelihood ask her name, and she would have to
tell them \vh > she was ; and then she would be
brought back to Baron Volterra's house, unless they
thought it more prudent to take her to a lunatic
asylum.

At that stage in her imaginings it was generally
time to go out with the Baroness for the daily drive,
which began with the leaving of cards and notes,
then led to the country or one of the villas, and
generally ended in a turn or two through the
Corso before coming home. The worst part of the
daily round was dinner when the Baron was at
home. It was then that she felt most strongly the
temptation to slip out of the house and never to
come back. Often, however, he and his wife
dined out, and then Sabina was served alone by
two solemn men-servants, so extremely correct that
they reminded her a little of her old home. These
were the pleasantest evenings she spent during that
spring, for when dinner was over she was free to
go to her own room and curl herself up in a big
armchair with a book, and read or dream till bed-
time, as she pleased.

When she was alone, her life seemed less
objectless, less inexplicably empty, less stupidly
incomprehensible, less lonely than in the company
of those excellent people with whom she had
nothing in common, but to whom she felt that
she was under a great obligation. In their com-

46 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

pany, it was as if her life had stopped suddenly at
the beginning and was never to go on again, as if
she had stuck fast like a fly in a drop of amber,
as if nothing of interest could ever happen to her
though she might live a hundred years.

She could hardly remember anything which had
given her great pleasure. She did not remember
to have been ever radiantly happy, though she
could not recall much unhappiness since she had
left the convent school. The last thing that had
really hurt her had been the death of her pet
canary, and she had kept her feelings to herself
as well as she could, with the old aristocratic
instinct of hiding pain.

It was all idle and strangely empty, and yet
hard to understand. She would have been much
surprised if she could have guessed how much its
emptiness interested other people in Rome ; how
the dowagers chattered about her over their tea,
abusing her mother and all her relations for aban-
doning her like a waif; how the men reasoned
about Baron Volterra's deep-laid schemes, trying
to make out that his semi-adoption of Sabina, as
they called it, must certainly bode ruin to some
one, since he had never in his life done anything
without a financial object ; how the young girls
unanimously declared that the Baroness wanted
Sabina for one of her sons, because she was such a
dreadful snob ; how Cardinal Delia Crusca shook his
wise old head knowingly, as he, who knew so much,
always did on the rare occasions when he knew
nothing about the matter in hand ; how a romantic
young English secretary of Embassy christened her

in THE HEART OF ROME 47

the Princess in the Tower ; and how old Pompeo
Sassi went up to his vineyard on Monte Mario
every Sunday and Thursday and sat almost all
the afternoon under the chestnut-tree thinking
about her and making unpractical plans of his
own.

CHAPTER IV

IF Baron Volterra did not choose to sell the
Palazzo Conti to the first comer, he doubtless
knew his own business best, and he was not
answerable to every one for his opinion that the
fine old building was worth a good deal more
than the highest offer he had yet received. Every-
body knew that the palace was for sale, and some
of the attempts made to buy it were openly dis-
cussed. A speculator had offered four hundred
thousand francs for it, a rich South American had
offered half a million ; it was rumoured that the
Vatican would give five hundred and fifty thousand,
provided that the timbers of the carved ceilings
were in good condition, but Volterra steadily
refused to allow any of the carvings to be dis-
turbed in order to examine the beams. During
several days a snuffy little man with a clever face
poked about with a light in dark places between
floors, trying to find out whether the wood were
sound or rotten, and asking all sorts of questions
of the old porter, and of two workmen who went
with him, and who had been employed in repairs
in the palace, as their fathers had been before
them, perhaps for generations. But their answers

48

CHAP, iv THE HEART OF ROME 49

were never quite satisfactory, and the snuffy man
disappeared to the mysterious regions beyond the
Tiber, and did not come back.

Some people, knowing the ways of the Romans,
might have inferred that the two workmen, a mason
and a carpenter, had not been treated by Baron
Volterra in such a way as to make them give a
favourable report ; and as he seemed perfectly
indifferent about the result this is quite possible.
At all events the carpenter made out that he could
not get at the beams in question, without moving
the decorations which covered them, and the mason
affirmed that it was quite impossible to get a view
of the foundations of the north-west corner of the
palace, which were said to be weak, without knock-
ing a hole through a wall upon which depended
such solidity as there was. It was useless, he said.
The snuffy gentleman could ask the Baron, if he
pleased, and the Baron could do what he liked
since the property now belonged to him : but he,
the mason, would not lay hand to pick or crowbar
without the Baron's express authorisation. The
Baron was a Senator of the Kingdom, said the
mason, and could therefore of course send him to
penal servitude in the galleys for life, if he pleased.
That is the average Roman workman's idea of
justice. The snuffy expert, who looked very much
like a poor priest in plain clothes, though he evi-
dently knew his business, made no reply, nor any
attempt to help the mason's conscience with money.

But he stood a little while by the wall, with his
lantern in his hands, and presently put his ear to
the damp stones, and listened.

50 THE HEART OF ROME

' There is running water somewhere not far off/
he said, looking keenly at the workman.

* It is certainly not wine,' answered the man, with
a rough laugh, for he thought it a very good joke.

' Are there any " lost waters " under the
palace ? ' asked the expert.

' I do not know,' replied the mason, looking
away from the lantern towards the gloom of the
cellars.

' I believe,' said the snuffy gentleman, setting
down his lantern, and taking a large pinch from a
battered silver snuff-box, on which the arms of
Pius Ninth were still distinguishable, ' I believe
that the nearest " lost water" to this place is
somewhere under the Vicolo dei Soldati.'

' I do not know.'

The expert skilfully inserted the brown dust
into his nostrils with his right thumb, scarcely
wasting a grain in the operation.

' You do not seem to know much,' he observed,
thoughtfully, and took up his lantern again.

' I know what I have been taught,' replied the
mason without resentment.

The expert glanced at him quickly, but said
nothing more. His inspection was finished, he
led the way out of the intricate cellars as if he
knew them by heart, though he had only passed
through them once, and he left the palace on foot
when he had brushed some of the dust from his
"shabby clothes.

The porter looked enquiringly at the two men,
as they filled little clay pipes that had cane stems,
standing under the deep entrance.

THE HEART OF ROME 51

' Not even the price of half a litre of wine,'
said the mason in answer to the mute question.

c Church stuff,' observed the carpenter, dis-
contentedly.

The porter nodded gravely, and the men
nodded to him as they went out into the street.
They had nothing more to do that day, and they
turned into the dark little wine-shop, where the
withered bush stuck out of the blackened grating.
They sat down opposite each other, with the end
of the grimy board of the table between them, and
the carpenter made a sign. The host brought a
litre measure of thin red wine and set it down
between them with two tumblers. He was ghastly
pale, flabby and sullen, with a quarter of an inch
of stubbly black beard on his unhealthy face.

The carpenter poured a few drops of wine into
one of the tumblers, shook it about, turned it into
the other, shook it again, and finally poured it on
the unctuous stone floor beside him. Then he
filled both glasses to the brim, and both men
drank in silence.

They repeated the operation, and after the
second glass there was not much left in the
measure. The flabby host had retired to the
gloomy vaults within, where he played cards with
a crony by the light of a small smoking lamp with
a cracked chimney.

* That was the very place, was it not ? ' asked
the carpenter at last, in a low tone, and almost
without moving his lips.

The mason said nothing, but shrugged his
shoulders, in a sort of enigmatic assent. Both

52 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

drank again, and after a long time the carpenter
smiled faintly.

'He was looking for the "lost water,"' he
said, in a tone of contempt.

The faint smile slowly reflected itself in the
mason's face. The two finished their wine, lit
their pipes again, left the price of their drink on
the table without disturbing the host and went away.

So far as any outsider could have judged, the
expert's curiosity and the few words exchanged by
the workmen referred to the so-called 'lost
water,' which might be somewhere under the
north-west corner of the Palazzo Conti, and no
one unacquainted with subterranean Rome could
possibly have understood what any of the three
meant.

The ' lost waters ' of Rome are very mys-
terious. Here and there, under old streets and
far down amongst the foundations of ancient
palaces, there are channels of running water which
has no apparent connection with any of the
aqueducts now restored and in use. It is a water
that comes no one knows whence and finds its
way to the Tiber, no one knows how. It is
generally clear and very cold, and in the days
when the aqueducts were all broken and most
people drank of the river, the ' lost water ' was
highly prized. It appears in the most unexpected
places, sometimes in great quantities and seriously
interfering with any attempt to lay the foundations
of a new building, sometimes black and silent,
under a huge flagstone in an old courtyard,
sometimes running with an audible rush through

THE HEART OF ROME 53

hidden passages deeper than the deepest cellars.
It has puzzled archaeologists, hydraulic engineers
and architects for generations, its presence has
never been satisfactorily explained, there seems not
to be any plan of the city which shows its where-
abouts, and the modern improvements of the
Tiber's banks do not appear to have affected its
occult courses. By tradition handed down from
father to son, certain workmen, chiefly masons
and always genuine Romans, claim to know more
about it than other people ; but that is as much as
can be said. It is known as the 'lost water,' and
it rises and falls, and seeks different levels in
unaccountable ways, as water will when it is con-
fined under the earth but is here and there
confronted by the pressure of the air.

But though the old-fashioned Roman workman
still looks upon all traditional information about his
trade as secret and never to be revealed, that fact
alone might seem insufficient to account for the
behaviour of Gigi the carpenter and of Toto the
mason under the particular circumstances here
narrated, still less for the contempt they showed
for the snuffy expert who was apparently looking
for the ' lost water.' An invisible witness would
have gathered that they had something of more
importance to conceal. To the expert, their con-
duct and answers must have been thoroughly
unsatisfactory, for the Vatican was even said to
have refused to pay the additional fifty thousand
francs, on the ground that the state of the founda-
tions was doubtful and that the timbers of the
upper story were not sound.

54 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

Baron Volterra's equanimity was not .in the
least disturbed by this. On the contrary, instead
of setting the price lower, he frankly told all
applicants, through his agent, that he was in no
hurry to sell, as he had reason to believe that the
land about the Palazzo Conti would soon rise in
value. He had settled with the representatives of
the Conti family, and it was said that he had
behaved generously. The family had nothing
left after the crash, which might partially account
for such an exhibition of generosity ; but it was
hinted that Baron Volterra had given them the
option of buying back the palace and some other
property upon which he had foreclosed, if they
should be able to pay for it in ten years.

Soon after the visit of the snuffy expert, Vol-
terra's agent informed the porter that a gentleman
had taken the small apartment on the intermediate
story, which had formerly been occupied by a
chaplain but had been disused for years. It had
been part of the Conti's folly that they had steadily
refused to let any part of the vast building since
the old Prince's death.

On the following day, the new-comer moved in,
with his belongings, consisting of a small quantity
of new furniture, barely sufficient for himself and
his one servant, and a number of very heavy cases,
which turned out to be full of books. Gigi, the
carpenter, was at once sent for to put up plain
shelves for these, and he took stock of the lodger
while the latter was explaining what he wanted.

' He is a gentleman/ said Gigi to Toto, that
very evening, as they stood filling their pipes at

iv THE HEART OF ROME 55

the corner of the Vicolo del Soldati. ' His name
is Malipieri. He is as black as the horses at a
funeral of the first class, and he is not a Roman.'

''Who knows what race of animal this may
be ? ' Toto was not in a good humour.

* He is of the race of gentlemen,' asserted Gigi
confidently.

' Then he will end badly,' observed Toto.
' Let us go and drink. It is better.'

* Let us go and drink,' repeated Gigi. ' You
have a sensible thought sometimes. I think this
man is an engineer, or an architect. He wants a
draughtsman's table.'

' Evil befall his little dead ones, whatever he
is,' returned the other, by way of welcome to the
young man who had moved into the palace.

* He advanced me ten francs to buy w6od for
the shelves,' said Gigi, who was by far the more
cheerful of the two.

' Come and drink,' returned Toto, relevantly
or irrelevantly. * That is much better.'
So they turned into the wine-shop.

CHAPTEj^V

BARON VOLTERRA introduced Marino Malipieri to
the two ladies. The guest had come punctually,
for the Baron had looked at -his watch a moment
before he was announced, and it was precisely
eight o'clock.

Malipieri bowed to the Baroness, who held out
her hand cordially, and then to Sabina.

' Donna Sabina Conti,' said the Baron with
extreme distinctness, in order that his guest should
be quite sure of the young girl's identity.

Sabina looked down modestly, as the nuns had
told her to do when a young man was introduced
to her. At the same moment Malipieri's eyes
turned quietly and quickly to the Baron, and a
look of intelligence passed between the two men.
Malipieri understood that Sabina was one of the
family in whose former palace he was living.
Then he glanced again at the young girl for one
moment, before making a commonplace remark to
the Baroness, and after that Sabina felt that she
was at liberty to look at him.

She saw a very dark man of average height,
with short black hair that grew rather far back
from his very white forehead, and wearing a closely

56

CHAI-. v THE HEART OF ROME 57

clipped black beard and moustache which did not
by any means hide the firm lines of the mouth and
chin. From the strongly marked eyebrows down-
ward his face was almost of the colour of newly
cast bronze, and the dusky hue contrasted oddly
with the clear whiteness of his forehead. He was
eviden^y a man who had lately been living much
out ofaoors undej^fcurning sun. Sabina thought
that his very brigH^tack eyes and boldly curved
features suggested a young hawk, and he had a look
of compact strength and a way of moving which
betrayed both great energy and extreme quickness.

But there was something more, which Sabina
recognized at the first glance. She felt instantly
that he was not like the Baron and his wife ; that
he belonged in some way to the same variety of
humanity as herself; that she would understand
him when he spoke, that she would often feel
intuitively what he was going to say next, and
that he would understand her.

She listened while he talked to the Baroness.
He had a slight Venetian accent, but his voice had
not the«oft Venetian ring. It was a little veiled,
and though not at all loud it was somewhat harsh.
Sabina did not dislike the manly tone, though it
was not musiSil, nor the Venetian pronunciation,
although that w;is unfamiliar. In countries like
Italy and G^many, which have had many centres
and many historical capital cities, almost all edu-
cated people speak with the accents of their several
origins, and are rather tenacious of the habit than
anxious to get rid of it, generally maintaining that
their own pronunciation is the right one.

58 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

' Signer Malipieri,' said the Baron to Sabina,
as they went in to dinner, ' is the celebrated
archaeologist.'

' Yes,' Sabina answered, as if she knew all about
him, though she had never heard him mentioned.

Malipieri probably overheard the Baron's speech,
but he took no notice of it. At dinner, he seemed
inclined to be silent. The Baron asked him ques-
tions about his discoveries, to which he gave rather
short answers, but Sabina gathered that he had
found something extraordinary in Carthage. She
did not know where Carthage was, and did not
like to ask, but she remembered that Marius had
sat there among some ruins. Perhaps Malipieri
had found his bones, for no one had ever told her
that Marius did not continue to sit among the
ruins to his dying day. She connected him vaguely
with Aeneas and another person called Regulus.
It was all rather uncertain.

What she saw clearly was that the Baron wished
to make Malipieri feel at his ease, but that Malipieri's
idea of being at his ease was certainly not founded
on a wish to talk about himself. So the conversa-
tion languished for some time.

The Baroness, who knew about as much about
Carthage as Sabina, made a few disconnected remarks,
interspersed with laudatory allusions to the young
man's immense learning, for she wished to please
her husband, though she had not the slightest idea
why Malipieri was asked to dinner. Finding that
he was not perceptibly flattered by what she said,
she began to talk about the Venetian aristocracy,
for she knew that his name was historical, and she

v THE HEART OF ROME 59

recognized in him at once the characteristics of the
nobility she worshipped. Malipieri smiled politely,
and in answer to a direct question admitted that his
mother had been a Gradenigo.

The Baroness was delighted at this information.

' To think,' she said, * that by a mere accident
you and Donna Sabina should meet here, the
descendants of two of the oldest families of the
Italian aristocracy ! '

'I am a republican,' observed Malipieri
quietly.

* You ! ' cried the Baroness in amazement. ' You,
the offspring of such races as the Malipieri and the
Gradenigo a republican, a socialist, an anarchist ! '

* There is a difference,' said Malipieri with a
smile. ' A republican is not an anarchist ! '

* I can never believe it,' answered the Baroness
solemnly.

She ate a few green peas and shook her head.

' I went to Carthage because I was condemned to
three years' confinement in prison,' replied Malipieri
with calm.

* Prison ! ' exclaimed the Baroness in horror,
and she looked at her husband, mutely asking why
in the world he had brought a convict to their
table.

The Baron smiled benignly, as he disposed of
an ample mouthful of green peas, before he spoke.

'Signer Malipieri,' he said, when he had
swallowed the last one, ' founded and edited a
republican newspaper in the north of Italy.'

* And you were sent to prison for that ? ' asked
Sabina, with indignation.

60 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

' It is one thing to send a man to prison,' said
Malipieri. ' It is another to make him go there.
I escaped to Switzerland, and I came back to Italy
quite lately, after the amnesty.'

' I am amazed ! ' The Baroness looked at the
servants timidly, as if she expected the butler and
the footman to express their disapprobation of the
guest.

' I have left politics for the present,' Malipieri
replied, looking at Sabina and smiling.

' Of course ! ' cried the Baroness. * But '

she stopped short.

4 My wife,' said the financier with a grin,
' is afraid you have dynamite about you.'

' How absurd ! ' The Baroness felt that she
was ridiculous. ' But I do not understand how
you can be friends,' she added, glancing from her
husband to Malipieri.

* We are at least on good terms of acquaint-
ance,' said the younger man a little markedly.

Sabina liked the speech and the way in which
it was spoken.

' We have a common ground for it in our
interest in antiquities. Is it not true, Signor
Malipieri ? '

The Baron looked at him and smiled again, as
if there were a secret between them, and Malipieri
glanced at Sabina.

' It is quite true,' he said gravely. ' The Baron
has read all I have written about Carthage.'

Volterra possessed a sort of rough social tact,
together with the native astuteness and great
knowledge of men which had made him rich and

v THE HEART OF ROME 61

a Senator. He suddenly became voluble and led
the conversation in a new direction, which it
followed till the end of dinner.

Several people came in afterwards, as often
happened, before the coffee was taken away.
They were chiefly men in politics, and two of
them brought their wives with them. They were
not the sort of guests whom the Baroness pre-
ferred, for they were not by any means all noble
Romans, but they were of importance to her
husband and she took great pains to make them
welcome. To one she offered his favourite
liqueur, which happened to be a Sicilian ratafia ;
for another she made the Baron send for some
of those horribly coarse black cigars known as
Tuscans, which some Italians prefer to anything
else ; for a third, she ordered fresh coffee to be
especially made. She took endless trouble.

Malipieri seemed to know none of the guests,
and he took advantage of the Baroness's pre-
occupation for their comforts to sit down by
Sabina. He did not look at her, and she thought
he looked bored, as he sat a moment in silence.
Then a thin deputy with a magnificent forehead
and thick grey hair began to hold forth on the
subject of a projected divorce law and the guests
gathered round him. Sabina had never heard of
Sidney Smith, but she had a suspicion that nobody
could be as great as the speaker looked. While
she was thinking of this, Malipieri spoke to her
in a low voice.

* I suppose that you are stopping in the house,'
he said.

62 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

'Yes.'

Sabina turned her eyes a little, but did not look
straight at him. She saw, however, that he was
still watching the people in the room, and still
looked bored, and she was quite unprepared for
what followed.

4 Are the affairs of your family finally settled ? '
he enquired, without changing his tone.

Sabina was so much surprised that she waited a
moment before answering. Her first instinct was
to ask him stiffly why he put such a question, and
she would have replied to it in that way if it had
come from any other guest in the room ; but she
changed her mind almost instantly.

* No one has told me anything,' she said simply,
in a low voice.

Malipieri turned his head a little with a quick
movement, and clasped his brown hands over one
knee.

* You know nothing ? ' he asked. ' Nothing
whatever about the matter ? '

* Nothing/

He bit his lip as if he were indignant, and were
repressing an exclamation.

* No one has written to me--- for a long time,'
Sabina said, after a moment.

She had been on the point of saying that she
had never received a line from any member of her
family since the crash, but that seemed to sound-
like a confidence, and what she really said was
quite true.

' Has not the Senator told you anything either ? '
Malipieri asked.

v THE HEART OF ROME 63

' No. I suppose he does not like to speak about
our misfortunes before me.'

' Have you, I mean you yourself, any interest
in the Palazzo Conti now? Can you tell me
that?'

4 1 know nothing — nothing ! ' Sabina repeated
the word with a slight tremor, for just then she
felt her position more keenly than ever before.
k Why do you ask ? '

She could not help putting the question which
rose to her lips the second time, but there was no
coldness in her voice. She was very lonely, and
she felt that Malipieri was speaking from some
honourable motive.

* I am living in the palace,' Malipieri answered.
Sabina looked up quickly, with an expression

of interest in her pale young face. The thought
that the man beside her was living in her old
home was like a bond of acquaintance.

1 Really ? ' she cried. * In which part of the
house ? '

' Do not seem interested, please,' said Malipieri,
suddenly looking very bored again. * If you do,
we shall not be allowed to talk. I anr living in
the little apajtment on the interrhetliate story.
They tell me that a chaplain once lived thtrre.'

* I know where it is,' answered Sabina, ' but I
was never in the rooms. They used to be shut
up, I think.'

The deputy who was haranguing on the subject
of divorce seemed to be approaching his perora-
tion. His great voice filled the large room with
incessant noise, and everybody seemed anxiously

64 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

waiting for a chance to contradict him. Malipieri
was in no danger of being overheard.

' If it happens/ he said, ' that I wish to com-
municate with you on a matter of importance,
how can I reach you best ? '

He asked the question quite naturally, as if he
had known Sabina all his life. At first she was so
much surprised that she could hardly speak.

' I — I do not know,' she stammered.

She had never received letters from any one
but her own family or her school friends, and a
very faint colour rose in her pale cheek. Malipieri
looked more bored and weary than ever.

' It may be absolutely necessary for me to write
to you before long,' he said. ' Shall I write by
post ? '

Sa-bina hesitated.

* Is there no one in all Rome whom you can
trust to bring a note and give it to you when you
are alone ? '

' There is Signor Sassi,' Sabina answered almost
instinctively. ' But really, why should you '

' How can I find Sassi ? ' asked Malipieri, in-
terrupting the question. ' Who is he ? '

' He was our agent. Is he gone ? The old
porter will know where to find him. I think he
lived near the palace. But perhaps the porter
has been sent away too.'

' He is still there. Have you been made to
sign any papers since you have been here ? '

4 No.'

c Will you promise me something ? '

Sabina could not understand how it was that

THE HEART OF ROME 65

a man who had been a stranger two hours earlier
was speaking to her almost as if he were an
intimate friend, still less why she no longer felt
that she ought to check him and assert her
dignity.

* If it is right, I will promise it,' she answered
quietly, and looking down.

' It is right,' he said. ' If the Senator, or any
one else asks you to sign a paper, will you promise
to consult me before doing so ? '

' But I hardly know you ! ' she laughed, a
little shyly.

' It is of no use to waste time and trouble
on social conventions,' said Malipieri. * If you do
not trust me, can you trust this Sassi ? '

4 Oh yes ! '

' Then consult him. I will make him consult
me, and it will be the same — and ten times more
conventional and proper.'

He smiled.

* Will you promise that ? ' he asked.

* Yes. I promise. But I wish you would tell
me more.'

' I wish I could. But I hardly know you ! '
He smiled again, as he repeated her own words.
' Never mind that ! Tell me ! '

* No. I cannot. If there is trouble I will tell
you everything — through Sassi, of course.'

Sabina laughed, and all at once she felt as if
she had known him for years.

At that moment the deputy finished his speech,
and all who had anything to say in answer said it
at once, in order to lose no time, while the

F

66 THE HEART OF ROME

CHAP.

speaker re-lighted his villainous black cigar, puffing
tremendously.

The Baroness suddenly remembered Sabina
and Malipieri in the corner, and after screaming
out several incoherent phrases, which might have
been taken for applause or dissent and were
almost lost in the general din, she moved across
the room.

* It is atrocious ! ' she cried, as she reached
Sabina. * I hope you have not heard a word he
said ! '

1 When a man has such a voice as that, it
is impossible not to hear him,' said Malipieri,
rising and answering before Sabina had time to
speak.

Sabina rose, too, rather reluctantly.

'And of course you agreed with everything
he said,' the Baroness replied. ' All anarchists
do!'

* I beg your pardon. I do not agree with him
at all, and I am really not an anarchist.'

He smiled politely, and Sabina noticed with an
unaccountable little thrill of satisfaction that the
smile was quite different from the one she had
seen in his face more than once while they had
been talking together. As for the deputy's dis-
course, she had not heard a word of it.

The Baroness sat down on the sofa, and Sabina
slipped away. She was not supposed to be in
society yet, as she was not quite eighteen, and
there was certainly no reason why she should stay
in the drawing-room that evening, while there
were many reasons why she should go away. The

v THE HEART OF ROME 67

Baroness breathed an audible sigh of relief when
she was gone, for it was never possible to predict
what some excited politician might say before her
in the heat of argument.

In the silence of her own room she sat down to
think over the unexpected events of the evening.
Very young girls love to look forward to the
moment when they shall be able to ' think ' of
what has happened, after they have met men they
are inclined to like, and who interest them. But
when the time really comes they hardly ever think
at all. They see pictures, they hear voices, they
feel again what they have felt, they laugh, they
shed tears all alone, and they believe they are
thinking, or even reasoning. Their little joys
come back to them, the little triumphs of their
vanity, and also all the little hurts their sensitive-
ness has suffered, and which men do not often
guess and still more rarely understand.

There must be some original reason why all
boys call girls silly, and all girls think boys stupid.
It must be part of the first manifestation of that
enormous difference which exists between the point
of view of men and women in after life.

Women are, in a sense, the embodiment of
practice, while men are the representatives of
theory. In practice, in a race for life, the runner
who jumps everything in his way is always right,
unless he breaks his neck. In theory, he is as
likely to break his neck at the first jump as at
the second, and the chances of his coming to grief
increase quickly, always in theory, as he grows
tired. So theory says that it is safer never to

68 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP, v

jump at all, but to go round through the gates, or
wade ignominiously through the water. Women
jump ; men go round. The difference is every-
thing. Women believe in what often succeeds in
practice, and they take all risks and sometimes
come down with a crash. Men theorize about
danger, make elaborate calculations to avoid it
and occasionally stick in the mud. When women
fall at a stone wall they scream, when men are
stuck in a bog they swear. The difference is
fundamental. In nine cases out of ten it is the
woman who enjoys the ecstatic delight of saying
' I told you so/ and there are plenty of women
who would ask no greater joy in paradise than
to say so to their husbands for ever and ever.
Indeed eternal reward and punishment could thus
be at once combined and distributed in a simple
manner.

Sabina took her first fence that evening, for
when she put out her candle she was sure that
Malipieri was already her friend, and that she
could trust him in any emergency. Moreover,
though she would not have acknowledged it, she
inwardly hoped that some emergency might not
be far in the future.

But Malipieri walked all the way from the
Via Ludovisi to the Palazzo Conti, which is more
than a mile, without noticing that he had for-
gotten to light the cigar he had taken out on
leaving Volterra's house.

CHAPTER VI

MALI PIER i had the Palazzo Conti to himself.
The main entrance was always shut now, and only
a small postern, cut in one side of the great door,
was left ajar. The porter loafed about in the
great court with his broom and his pipe ; in the
morning his wife went upstairs and opened a few
windows, merely as a formality, and late in the
afternoon she shut them again. Malipieri's man
generally went out twice every day, carrying a
military dinner-pail, made in three sections, which
he brought back half an hour later. Malipieri
sometimes was not seen for several days, but
sometimes he went out in the morning and did
not come back till dark. Now and then, things
were delivered for him at the door, a tin of oil for
his lamps, a large box of candles, packages of odd
shapes, sometimes very heavy, and which the porter
was told to handle with care.

The old man tried to make acquaintance with
Malipieri's man, but found it less easy than he
had expected. In the first place, Masin came
from some outlandish part of Italy where an
abominable dialect was spoken, and though he
could speak schoo. when he pleased, he

69

70 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

chose to talk to the porter in his native jargon,
when he talked at all. He might just as well
have spoken Greek. Secondly, he refused the
porter's repeated offers of a litre at the wine-shop,
always saying something which sounded like a
reference to his delicate health. As he was evi-
dently as strong as an ox, and as healthy as a
savage or a street dog, the excuse carried no con-
viction. He was a big, quiet fellow, with china
blue eyes and a reddish moustache. The porter
was not used to such people, nor to servants who
wore moustaches, and was inclined to distrust the
man. On the other hand, though Masin would
not drink, he often gave the porter a cigar, with
a friendly smile.

One day, in the morning, Baron Volterra came
to see Malipieri, and stayed over an hour, a part
of which time the two men spent in the courtyard,
walking up and down in the north-west corner, and
then taking some measurements with a long tape
which Malipieri produced from his pocket. When
the Baron went away he stopped and spoke with
the porter. First he gave him five francs ; then
he informed him that his wages would be raised
in future by that amount ; and finally he told him
that Signer Malipieri was an architect and would
superintend the repairs necessary to the founda-
tions at the north-west corner, that while the work
was going on even the little postern door was to
be kept shut all day, and no one was to be ad-
mitted on any condition without Signor Malipieri's
express permission. The fat Baron fixed his eyes
on the porter's with an oddly Jbard look, and said

v, HIE HEART OF ROMK 71

that he himself might come at any moment to see
how the work was going on, and that if he found
anybody inside the gate without Signer Malipieri's
authority, it would be bad for the porter. During
this conversation, Malipieri stood listening, and
when it ended he nodded, as if he were satisfied,
and after shaking hands with the Baron he went
up the grand staircase without a word.

It was all very mysterious, and the porter
shook his head as he turned into his lodge after
fastening the postern ; but he said nothing to his
wife about what had passed.

From what he had been told, he now naturally
expected that a number of masons would come
in a day or two in order to begin the work of
strengthening the foundations ; but no one came,
and everything went on as usual, except that the
postern was kept shut. He supposed that Mali-
pieri was not ready, but he wisely abstained from
asking questions. Then Malipieri asked him for
the address of Pompeo Sassi, and wrote it down
in his pocket-book, and went out. That was on
the morning after he had dined at the Baron's
house, for it was not his habit to waste time when
he wanted information.

Sassi received Malipieri in a little sitting-room
furnished with a heterogeneous collection of utterly
useless objects, all of which the old agent treasured
with jealous affection, and daily recommended to
the care of the elderly woman who was his only
servant. The sofa and chairs had been new forty
years ago, and though the hideous red-and-green
stuffs with which they were covered were still

72 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

tolerably vivid in colour, the legs did not look
safe, and Malipieri kept his feet well under him
and sat down cautiously. Two rickety but well-
dusted tables were loaded with ancient nick-nacks,
dating from the early part of the second French
Empire, with impossibly ugly little figures carved
out of cheap alabaster, small decayed photograph
albums, and ingeniously bad wax flowers under
glass shades. On the walls hung bad lithographs
of Pius Ninth, Napoleon Third and Metternich,
with a large faded photograph of old Prince Conti
as a young man. Malipieri looked at it curiously,
for he guessed that it represented Sabina's father.
The face was clean-shaven, thin and sad, with
deep eyes and fair hair that looked almost white
now, as if the photograph had grown old with the
man, while he had lived.

Sassi sat down opposite his visitor. He wore
a black cloth cap with a green tassel, and rubbed
his hands slowly while he waited for Malipieri to
speak. The latter hesitated a moment and then
went to the point at once.

' You were the agent of the Conti estate for
many years,' he said. ' I know the Senator Vol-
terra and have met Donna Sabina. I understand
that her mother has left her under the charge of
the Senator's wife, and seems to have forgotten
her existence. The young lady is apparently with-
out resources of her own, and it is not clear what
would become of her if the Volterra couple should
not find it convenient to keep her with them. Is
that the state of affairs ? '

Sassi nodded gravely. Then he looked

vi THE HEART OF ROME 73

keenly at the young man, and asked him a
question.

' May I enquire why you take an interest in
Donna Sabina Conti ? '

Malipieri returned the other's gaze quietly.

' I am an architect, called in by the Senator to
superintend some work on the palace. The Senator,
as you know, took over the building when he
foreclosed the mortgage, and he has not yet sold
it, though he has refused several good offers. I
have an idea that he believes it to be very valuable
property. If this should turn out to be true, and
if he should have made a very profitable transac-
tion, he ought in honour, if not in law, to make
over a part of the profits to Donna Sabina, who
has practically been cheated of her share in her
father's estate. Her mother, and her brother and
sister, spent everything they could lay hands on,
whereas she never had anything. Is that true ? '

' Quite true, quite true,' repeated Sassi sadly.

* And if Donna Sabina were to call them to
account, I fancy the law would take a rather un-
pleasant view of what they did. I have heard
that sort of thing called stealing when the persons
who did it were not princes and princesses, but
plain people like you and me. Do you happen
to think of any better word ? '

Sassi was silent. He had eaten the bread of
the Conti all his life. He glanced at the faded
photograph of the Prince, as if to explain, and
Malipieri understood.

* You are an honourable man,' he said. ' I can
no more tell you why I wish to help Donna Sabina

74 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

to her rights, if she has any, than I can explain a
great many things I have done in my life. When
I see a dog kicked, I always kick the man, if I
can, and I do not remember to have regretted any
momentary unpleasantness that has followed in
such cases. I have only seen Donna Sabina once,
but I mean to help her if possible. Now tell me
this. Has she any legal claim in the value of the
palace or not ? '

' I am afraid not,' Sassi answered.

' Do you know whether she was ever induced to
sign any release of her guardians ? '

' She never did.'

* That might be bad for them. That is all I
wished to know. Thank you.'

Malipieri rose to take his leave.

* If anything of importance happens, can you
communicate with Donna Sabina ? ' he asked.

' I can write to her,' Sassi answered. * I
suppose she would receive me if I went to the
house.'

* That would be better.'

' Excuse me,' said the old man, before opening
the door to let his visitor out, ' am I right in
supposing that the work the Baron wishes done is
connected with the foundations ? '

« Yes.'

'At the north-west corner within the court-
yard ? '

'Yes,' answered Malipieri, looking at him
attentively. ' Do you happen to know anything
about the condition of that part of the palace ? '

{ Most people,' Sassi replied, ' have now for-

vi THE HEART OF ROME 75

gotten that a good deal of work was done there
long ago, under Pope Gregory Sixteenth.'

* Indeed ? I did not know that. What was the
result ? '

* The workmen came across the *' lost water."
It rose suddenly one day and one of them was
drowned. I believe his body was never recovered.
Everything was filled in again after that. For my
own part I do not think the building is in any
danger.'

* Perhaps not,' said Malipieri, suddenly looking
bored. * I only carry out the Senator's wishes,' he
added, as if with an afterthought. ' It is my
business to find out whether there is danger or
not.'

He took his leave and went away, convinced
that the old agent knew about other things besides
Sabina's friendless condition, but unwilling to
question him just then. The information Sassi had
volunteered was interesting but not useful. Mali-
pieri thought he himself knew well enough where
the 'lost water' was, under the Palazzo Conti.

It was not far from Sassi's house to the palace,
but he walked very slowly through the narrow
streets, and stopped more than once, deliberately
looking back, as if he were trying to keep the
exact direction of some point in his mind, and he
seemed interested in the gutters, and in the walls,
at their base, just above the pavement. At the
corner of the Vicolo dei Soldati he saw a little marble
tablet let into the masonry and yellow with age.
I Ie stopped a moment and read the inscription.
Then he turned away with a look of annoyance,

76 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

for it set forth that ' by order of the most Eminent
Vicar all persons were warned not to empty
garbage there, on pain of a fine.' It was a for-
gotten document of the old papal administration,
as he could have told without reading it if he had
known Rome better. From the corner he counted
his paces and then stopped again and examined
the wall and the pavement minutely.

There was nothing to be seen at all different
from the pavement and the wall for many yards
farther on and farther back, and Malipieri appar-
ently abandoned the search, for he now walked on
quickly till he reached the entrance of the palace,
on the other side, and went in.

From the low door of the wine-shop, Toto, the
mason, had seen him, and stood watching him till
he was out of sight.

* He does not know where it is,' Toto said,
sitting down again opposite Gigi.

1 Engineers know everything,' retorted the
carpenter.

* If this one knew anything, he would not
have stood there looking at the stones. I do not
suppose the municipality is going to put up a
monument to my grandfather, whom may the Lord
preserve in glory ! '

At this Gigi laughed, for he knew that Toto's
grandfather had been drowned in the ' lost water '
somewhere deep down under that spot, and had
never been found. The two men drank in silence.
After a long time Toto spoke again.

* A woman,' he said, with a shrug of the
shoulders.

v, THE HEART OF ROME 77

* A woman drowned him ? ' asked Gigi. ' How
could a woman do it ? '

' A man did it. But it was for jealousy of a
woman.'

' The man was a mason, I suppose,' suggested
Gigi.

' Of course. He was working with the others
in the morning, and he knew where they would be
after dinner. He did not come back with them,
and half an hour after they had gone down the
water came. How many times have I told you
that ? '

' It is always a new tale,' answered Gigi. ' It
gives me pleasure to hear it. Your father was a
young man then, was he not ? '

' Eighteen.' Toto lighted his pipe.

4 And the man who did it died soon after-
wards ? ' Gigi said.

' Of course,' said Toto. ' What else could my
father do ? He killed him. It was the least he
could have done. My father is also in Paradise.'

' Requiescat!' ejaculated the carpenter devoutly.

* Amen,' answered Toto. * He killed him with
a mattock.'

' It was well done,' observed Gigi with satis-
faction. * I suppose,' he continued after a pause,
' that if anybody went down there now, you could
let in the water.'

'Why should I ? I do not care what they
do. If they send for me, I may serve them. If
they think they can do without me, let them try.
I do not care a cabbage ! '

* Perhaps not,' Gigi answered thoughtfully.

78 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

' But it must be a fine satisfaction to know that

you can drown them all, like rats in a hole.'
' Yes,' said Toto, ' it is a fine satisfaction.'
' And even to know that you can make the

water come before they begin, so that they can

never do anything without you.'

* That too,' assented the mason.

' They would pay you a great deal to help them,
if they could not pump the water out. There is
no one else in Rome who knows how to turn it
off.'

Gigi made the remark tentatively, but Toto did
not answer.

'You will need some one to help you,' sug-
gested the carpenter in an insinuating tone.

' I can do it alone.'

* It is somewhere in the cellars of number
thirteen, is it not ? ' asked Gigi.

He would have given all he had to know what
Toto knew, and the bargain would have been a
very profitable one, no doubt. But though the
mason was his closest friend there were secrets
of the trade which Toto would not reveal to
him.

* The numbers in the street were all changed
ten years ago,' Toto answered.

He rose from his seat by the grimy table, and
Gigi followed his example with a sigh of dis-
appointment. They were moderate men, and
hardly ever drank more than their litre of their
wine. Toto smelt of mortar and his fustian
clothes and hairy arms were generally splashed
with it. Gigi smelt of glue and sawdust, and

VI THE HEART OF ROME 79

there were plentiful marks of his calling on his
shiny old cloth trousers and his coarse linen shirt.
Toto's face was square, stony and impenetrable ;
Gigi's was sharp as a bill and alive with curiosity.
Gigi wore a square paper cap ; Toto wore a
battered felt hat of no shape at all. On Sundays
and holidays they both shaved and turned out in
immaculate white shirts, well brushed broadcloth
and decent hats, recognizable to each other but
not to their employers.

Malipieri was accosted by a stranger at the, gate
of the palace. The porter, faithfully obedient to
his orders, was standing inside the open postern,
completely blocking it with his bulk, and when
Malipieri came up the visitor was still parleying
with him.

* This gentleman is asking for you, sir,' said
the old man.

The individual bowed politely and stepped back
a little. He had a singularly worthy appearance,
Malipieri thought, and he would have inspired
confidence if employed in a bank ; his thick grey
hair was parted in the middle, and at first sight
Malipieri felt perfectly sure that it was parted
down the back. His brown eyes were very wide
open, and steady, his slightly grizzled moustache
was neither twisted straight up at the ends in the
imperial German manner, nor straight out like a
cat's whiskers, nor waxed to fine points in the old
French fashion. It grew naturally and was rather
short, but it hid his mouth almost completely.
The man was extremely well dressed in half-
mourning, wore dark grey gloves and carried a

8o THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

plain black stick. He spoke quietly and Malipieri
thought he recognized the Genoese accent.

' Signer Marino Malipieri ? '

' Yes,' answered the architect, in a tone that
asked the visitor's name in return.

* My name is Vittorio Bruni. May I have a
few words with you ? '

' Certainly,' Malipieri answered, with consider-
able coolness.

* Thank you. I have been much interested by
your discoveries in Carthage and if you would
allow me to ask you one or two questions '

'Pray come in.'

'Thanks. After you.'

' After you,' insisted Malipieri, standing aside.

They went in. Before shutting the postern,
the porter looked out into the street. It was
almost deserted. Two men were standing together
near the corner, apparently arguing some question,
and stopping in their walk in order to talk more
at their ease, as Romans often do. The porter
shut the little door with a clang and went back to
his lodge. Malipieri and his visitor were already
on the stairs.

Malipieri let himself in with a small latch-key,
for he had ordered a modern patent lock to be
put on his door as soon as he moved into the
house. Masin appeared almost at once, however,
and stood waiting for his master at the door of
the sitting-room, like a large, placid mastiff.
Malipieri nodded to him and went in with Signer
Bruni.

They sat down by the open window and Signor

THE HEART OF ROME 81

Bruni began to talk. In a few minutes it became
lent that whether the man knew anything of
the subject or not he had read everything that
Malipieri had written, and remembered most of it
by heart. He spoke fluently and asked intelligent
questions. He had never been to Carthage, he
said, but he thought of making the trip to Tunis
during the following winter. Yes, he was a man
of leisure, though he had formerly been in business ;
he had a taste Tor archaeology, and did not think
it was too late to cultivate it, in a modest way, for
his own pleasure. Of course, he could never hope
to accomplish anything of importance, still less to
become famous like Malipieri. It was merely a
taste, ahd was hotter than nothing as an interest in
life.

Malipieri * jiested that he was not famous,
but agreed wit! I Signer Bruni about other matters.
It was better to follow a serious pursuit than to
do nothing with one's life.

* Or to dash into politics,' suggested Bruni care-
lessly, as if he had thought of trying that.

Perhaps he had heard of Malipieri's republican
newspaper, but if he had thought of drawing the
young man into conversation about it, he was dis-
appointed. Malipieri continued to agree with
him, listening attentively to all he said without
once looking bored.

* And now,' continued Bruni presently, * if it is
not indiscreet, may I ask whether you have any
new field of discovery in view ? '

The phrases ran along as if they had been
all prepared beforehand. The accent was now

82 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

decidedly Genoese, and Malipieri, who was a
Venetian, disliked it.

' Not at present,' he said. ' I have undertaken a
little professional work in Rome, and I am trying
to learn more about the Phoenician language/

* That is beyond me ! ' Bruni smiled pleasantly.
Malipieri looked at him a moment.

' If you are going to look into Carthaginian
antiquities,' he said, with much gravity, ' I strongly
advise you to study Phoenician.'

' Dear me ! ' exclaimed Bruni with a sigh of
regret, ' I had hoped it might not be necessary.'

He rose to take his leave, but as if seeing the
book-shelves for the first time, asked permission
to look at their contents. Malipieri saw that his
glance ran sharply along the titles of the volumes,
and that he was reading them as quickly as he
could.

' I suppose you live here quite alone,' he
said.

' Yes. I have a servant.'

' Of course. They tell me that Baron Volterra
has not decided what he will do with the palace,
and will not give a lease of it to any one.'

' I do not know what he means to do,' answered
Malipieri, looking at the straight part down the
back of his worthy visitor's hair, as the latter bent
to look at the books.

* I suppose he lends you this apartment, as a
friend,' said Bruni.

' No. I pay rent for it.'

Signor Bruni was becoming distinctly in-
quisitive, thought Malipieri, who answered coldly.

vi THE HEART OF ROME 83

Possibly the visitor perceived the hint, for he now
finally took his leave. In spite of his protestations
Malipieri went all the way downstairs with him,
and let him out himself, just as the porter came
out of his lodge at the sound of their footsteps.

Signor Bruni bowed a last time, and then
walked briskly away. By force of habit, the
porter looked up and down the street before
shutting the door after him, and he was somewhat
surprised to see that the two men whom he had
noticed half an hour earlier had only just finished
their argument and turned to go on as Signor
Bruni passed them. Then the porter watched
them all three till they disappeared round the
corner. At the same moment, from the opposite
direction, Toto reached the door of the palace,
and greeted the porter with a rough good-evening.

' I have forgotten the name of this palace,' he
added, by way of a joke, meaning that he had not
been called to do any work for a long time.
' Perhaps you can tell me what it is called.'

c It used to be a madhouse,' returned the
porter in the same strain. * Now that the madmen
are gone, a mole lives here. I kept the door
open for the lunatics, and they all got out. I
keep it shut for the mole, when he does not shut
it himself.'

' I will come in and smoke a pipe with you,'
said Toto. ' We will talk of old times.'

The porter shook his head, and blocked the
way.

* Not if you were the blessed soul of my
father come back from the dead,' he said. * The

84 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

Baron's instructions are to let no one in without
the mole's orders.'

' But I am an old friend,' objected Toto.

'Not if you were my mother, and the Holy
Father, and Saint Peter, and all the souls of
Purgatory at once,' answered the porter.

' May an apoplexy seize you ! ' observed Toto
pleasantly, and he went off, his pipe in his mouth.

The porter shrugged his shoulders at the
imprecation, shut the door reluctantly, and went
in to supper. Upstairs, Malipieri stood at his
open window, smoking and watching the old
fountain in the court. It was evening, and a deep
violet light filled the air and was reflected in the
young man's bronzed face. He was very thought-
ful now, and was not aware that he heard the
irregular splash of the water in the dark basin at
the feet of the statue of Hercules, and the eager
little scream of the swallows as they shot past
him, upward to the high old eaves, where their
young were, and downwards almost to the gravel
of the court, and in wide circles and madly sudden
curves. The violet light faded softly, and the
dusk drank the last drop of it, and the last
swallow disappeared under the eaves ; but still
Malipieri leaned upon the stone window-sill,
looking down.

For a long time he thought of Signor Bruni.
He wondered whether he had ever seen the man
before, or whether the face only seemed familiar
because it was the type of a class of faces all more
or less alike, all intensely respectable and not
without refinement, expressing a grave reticence

THE IIKAKT OK KOMI. 85

that did not agree with the fluent speech, and ;i
polite reserve at odds with the inquisitive nature
that revealed itself.

Malipieri was inclined to think he had never
met Bruni, but somehow the latter recalled the
hot times in Milan, and his short political career,
and the association was not to the man's advantage.
He could not recall the name at all. It was like
any other, and rather especially unobtrusive. Any-
body might be called Vittorio Bruni, and Vittorio
Bruni might be anybody, from a senator to a
shoemaker ; but if he had been a senator, or any
political personage, Malipieri would have heard of
him.

There was something very odd, too, about his
knowledge of Carthaginian antiquities, which was
entirely limited to the contents of Malipieri's own
pamphlets. He knew nothing of the Egyptians
and very little about the Greeks, beyond what
Malipieri had necessarily written about both. He
had talked much as a man does who has read up
an unfamiliar subject in order to make a speech
about it, and though the speech is skilful, an
expert can easily detect the shallowness of attain-
ment behind it.

There could be only one reason why any one
should take so much trouble ; the object was
evidently to make Malipieri's acquaintance, in the
absence of an ordinary introduction. And yet
Signor Bruni had quite forgotten to give his card
with his address, as almost any Italian would have
done under the circumstances, whether he expected
the meeting to be followed by another or not.

86 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

Malipieri spent most of his time in his rooms, but
he knew very well that he might go about Rome
for weeks and not come across the man again.

He recalled the whole conversation. He had
in the first place expected that Bruni would be
inquisitive about the palace, and perhaps ask to
be shown over it, but it was only at the last that
he had put one or two questions which suggested
an interest in the building, and then he had at
once taken the hint given him by Malipieri's cold
tone, and had not persisted. On the other hand
he had looked carefully at the titles of the books
on the shelves, as if in search of something.

Then Malipieri was conscious again of the
association, in his own mind, between the man's
personality and his own political experiences, and
he suddenly laughed aloud.

' What a precious fool I am ! ' he thought.
' The man is nothing but a detective ! '

The echo of his laugh came back to him from
across the dusky court in rather a ghostly way.

The evening air was all at once chilly, and
he shut his window and called for Masin, who
instantly appeared with a lamp. Masin was
always ready, and, indeed, possessed many quali-
ties excellent in a faithful servant, among which
gratitude to Malipieri held a high place.

He had something to be grateful for, which is not,
however, always a cause of gratitude in the receiver of
favours and mercies. He had been a convict, and
had served a term of several years in penal servitude.
The sentence had been passed upon him for having
stabbed a man in the back, in a drunken brawl,

v, THE HEART OF ROME 87

but Masin had steadily denied the charge, and the
evidence against him had been merely circum-
stantial. It had happened in Rome, where Masin
had worked as a mason during the construction of
the new Courts of Justice. He was from the far
north of Italy, and was, of course, hated by his
companions, as only Italians of different parts of
the country can hate one another. To shield one
of themselves, they unanimously gave evidence
against Masin ; the jury was chiefly composed of
Romans, the judge was a Sicilian, and Masin had
no chance. Fortunately for him, the man lived,
though much injured ; if he had died, Masin
would have got a life sentence. It was an old
story ; false witnesses, a prejudiced jury, and a
judge who, though willing to put his prejudices
aside, had little choice but to convict.

Masin had been sent to Elba to the penitentiary,
had been a * good-behaviour man ' from first to
last, and his term had been slightly abridged in
consequence. When he was discharged, he went
back to the north. Malipieri had found him
working as a mason when some repairs were being
made in the cathedral of Milan, and had taken a
fancy to him. Masin had told his story simply
and frankly, explaining that he found it hard to
get a living at all since he had been a convict,
and that he was trying to save enough money to
emigrate to New York. Malipieri had thought
over the matter for a week, speaking to him now
and then, and watching him, and had at last
proposed to take him into his own service. Later,
Masin had helped Malipieri to escape, had followed

88 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

him into exile, and had been of the greatest use to
him during the excavations in Carthage, where he
had acted as body-servant, foreman, and often as
a trusted friend.

He was certainly not an accomplished valet,
but Malipieri did not care for that. He was sober,
he was honest, he was trustworthy, he was cool in
danger, and he was very strong. Moreover, he
was an excellent and experienced mason, a fact of
little or no use in the scientific treatment of shoes,
trousers, silk hats, hair-brushes, and coffee, but
which had more than once been valuable to
Malipieri during the last few years. Finally, his
gratitude to the man who had believed in his
innocence was deep and lasting. Masin would
really have given his life to save Malipieri's, and
would have been glad to give it.

He set the lamp down on the table, and waited
for orders, his blue eyes quietly fixed on his
master.

' I never saw that gentleman before,' said
Malipieri, setting some papers in order, under the
bright light, but still standing. ' Did you look at
his face ? '

' Yes, sir,' answered Masin, and waited.

* What sort of man should you take him to
be?'

' A spy, sir,' replied Masin promptly.

4 1 think you are right,' Malipieri answered.
' We will begin work to-morrow morning.'

' Yes, sir/

Malipieri ate his supper without noticing what
Masin brought him, and then installed himself with

11 IK HI-ART OF ROMK 89

his shaded lamp at his work-table. He took from
the drawer a number of sketches of plans and
studied them attentively, by a rather odd process.

He had drawn only one plan on heavy paper,
in strong black lines. An architect would have
seen at once that it represented a part of the
foundations of a very large building ; and two or
three persons then living in Rome might have
recognised the plan of the cellars under the north-
west corner of the Palazzo Conti — certainly not
more than two or three, one of whom was the
snuffy expert who had come from beyond the
Tiber, and another was Baron Volterra. Toto,
the mason, could have threaded the intricate ways
in the dark, but could assuredly have made
nothing of the drawings. On the other hand, the
persons who were acquainted with them did not
know what Toto knew, and he was not at all
inclined to impart his knowledge to any one, for
reasons best known to himself.

Furthermore, an architect would have under-
stood at a glance that the plan was incomplete,
and that there was some reason why it could not
be completed. A part of it was quite blank, but
in one place the probable continuation of a main
wall not explored, or altogether inaccessible, was
indicated by dotted lines.

Besides this main drawing, Malipieri had
several others made on tracing paper to the same
scale, which he laid over the first, and moved
about, trying to make the one fit the other, and
in each of these the part which was blank in the
one underneath was filled in according to different

9o THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

imaginary plans. Lastly, he had a large trans-
parent sheet on which were accurately laid out the
walls and doors of the ground floor of the palace
at the north-west corner, and in this there was
marked a square piece of masonry, shaded as if to
represent a solid pilaster, and which came over
the unexplored part of the cellars. Sometimes
Malipieri placed this drawing over the first, and
then one of the others on both, trying to make the
three agree. It was like an odd puzzle, and there
was not a word written on any of the plans to
explain what they meant. On most of the thin
ones there were blue lines, indicating water, or at
least its possible course.

The imaginary architect, if he could have
watched the real one, would have understood
before long that the latter was theorizing about
the probable construction of what was hitherto
inaccessible, and about the probable position of
certain channels through which water flowed, or
might be expected to flow. He would also have
gathered that Malipieri could reach no definite
conclusion unless he could break through one of
two walls in the cellar, or descend through an
opening in the floor above, which would be by
far the easiest way. He might even have wondered
why Malipieri did not at once adopt the latter
expedient. It is not a serious matter to make an
aperture through a vault, large enough to allow
the passage of a man's body, and it could not be
attended with any danger to the building. It
would be much less safe and far more difficult to
cut a hole through one of the main foundation

Y, THE HEART OF ROME 91

walls, which might be many feet thick and yet not
wholly secure. Nevertheless the movements made
by the point of Malipieri's pencil showed that
he was contemplating that method of gaining an
entrance.

CHAPTER VII

SABINA had been more than two months in Baron
Vol terra's house, when she at last received a line
from her mother. The short letter was character-
istic and was, after all, what the girl had expected,
neither more nor less. The Princess told her that
for the present she must stay with the * kind
friends ' who had offered her a home ; that every-
thing would be right before long ; that if she
needed any advice she had better send for Sassi,
who had always served the family faithfully ; that
gowns were going to be short next year, which
would be becoming to Sabina when she 'came out,'
because she had small feet and admirable ankles ;
and that the weather was heavenly. The Princess
added that she would send her some pocket-money
before long, and that she was trying to find the
best way of sending it.

In spite of her position Sabina smiled at the
last sentence. It was so like her mother to
promise what she would never perform, that it
amused her. She sat still for some time with the
letter in her hand and then took it to the Baroness,
for she felt that it was time to speak out and that
the interview could not be put off any longer.

9*

CHAP, vii THE HEART OF ROME 93

The Baroness was writing in her boudoir. She
wrote her letters on large sheets of an especial
paper, stamped with her initials, over which
appeared a very minute Italian baron's coronet,
with seven points ; it was so small that one might
easily have thought that it had nine, like a count's,
but it was undeniably smart and suggested an
assured position in the aristocracy. No one quite
remembered why the late King had made Volterra
a baron, but he undoubtedly had done so, and no
one disputed Volterra's right to use the title.

Sabina read her letter aloud, and the Baroness
listened attentively, with a grave expression.

' Your dear mother ' she began in a sooth-
ing tone.

'She is not my "dear mother" at all,' said
Sabina interrupting her. * She is not any more
"dear" to me than I am to her.'

* Oh ! ' exclaimed the Baroness, affecting to be
shocked by the girl's heartlessness.

'If it were not for my "dear mother," I should
not be a beggar,' said Sabina.

* A beggar ! What a word ! '

'There is no other, that I know of. I am
living on your charity.'

1 For heaven's sake, do not say such things ! '
cried the Baroness.

' There is nothing else to say. If you had not
taken me in and lodged me and fed me, I should
like to know where I should be now. I am quite
sure that my " dear mother " would not care, but I
cannot help wondering what is to become of me.
Are you surprised ? '

94 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

* Are you not provided for here ? ' The
question was put in a tone almost of deprecation.

' Provided for ! I am surrounded with every
sort of luxury, when I ought to be working for
my living.'

* Working ! ' The Baroness was filled with
horror. ' You, my dear, the daughter of a Roman
Prince ! You, working for your living ! You, a
Conti ! '

Sabina smiled and looked down at her delicate
hands.

' I cannot see what my name has to do with it,'
she said. ' It is not much to be proud of, con-
sidering how my relatives behave.'

' It is a great name,' said the Baroness solemnly
and emphatically.

* It was once,' Sabina answered, leaning back
in the low chair she had taken, and looking at the
ceiling. ' My mother and my brother have not
added lustre to it, and I would much rather be
called Signorina Emilia Moscetti and be a gover-
ness, than be Sabina Conti and live on charity. I
have no right to what I do not possess and cannot
earn.'

' My dear child ! This is rank socialism ! I
am afraid you talked too long with Malipieri the
other night.'

4 There is a man who works, though he has
what you call a great name,' observed Sabina. * I
admire that. He was poor, I suppose — perhaps
not so poor as I am — and he made up his mind to
earn his living and a reputation.'

' You are quite mistaken,' said the Baroness drily.

v,, THE HEART OF ROME 95

Sabina looked at her in surprise.

' I thought he was a distinguished architect and
engineer,' she answered.

' Yes. But he was never poor, and he will be
very rich some day.'

* Indeed ! ' Sabina seemed rather disappointed
at the information.

There was a little pause, and the Baroness
looked at her i 'ifinished letter as if she wished that
Sabina would go away. She had foreseen that
before long the girl would make some protest
against her position as a perpetual guest in the
house, but had no clear idea of how to meet it.
Sabina seemed so very decided.

* We have done our best to make you feel at
home, like one of the family,' the Baroness said
presently, in a rather injured tone.

Sabina did not wish to be one of the family at
all, but she knew that she was under great obliga-
tions to her hosts, and she did not wish to be
thought ungrateful.

' You have been more than kind,' she answered
gently, ' and I shall never forget it. You have
taken more trouble for me in two or three months
than my mother in all my life. Please do not
imagine that I am not thankful for all you have
done.'

The words were spoken sincerely, and when
Sabina was very much in earnest there was some-
thing at once convincing and touching in her voice.
The Baroness's sallow cheek actually flushed
with pleasure, and she was impelled to leave her
scat and kiss Sabina affectionately. She was

96 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

restrained by a reasonable doubt as to the conse-
quences of such demonstrative familiarity, though
she would not have hesitated to kiss the girl's
mother under like circumstances.

* It was the least we could do,' she said, know-
ing very well that the phrase meant nothing.

' Excuse me,' Sabina objected, * but there was
no reason in the world why you should do anything
at all for me ! In the natural course of things I
should either have been sent to the country with
my sister-in-law, or to the convent with Clementina.'

' You would have been very unhappy, my dear
child.'

' I do not know which would have been
worse,' said Sabina frankly. ' They both hate me,
and I hate them.'

' Dear me ! ' exclaimed the Baroness, shocked
again, or pretending to be.

* In our family,' Sabina answered calmly, ' we
all hate each other.'

' I am sure your sister Clementina is far too
religious to feel hatred for any one.'

* You do not know her ! ' Sabina laughed, and
looked at the ceiling. 'She hates "the wicked"
with a mortal hatred ! '

' Perhaps you mean that she hates wickedness,
my dear/ suggested the Baroness in a moralising
tone.

' Not at all ! ' laughed the young girl. * She
would like to destroy everybody who is not like
her, and she would begin with her own family.
She used to tell me that I was doomed to eternal
flames because I loved my canary better than I

v.i THE HEART OF ROME 97

loved her. I did. It was quite true. As for my
brother, she said he was wicked, too. I quite
believe he is, but she had a friendly understanding
with him, because they used to make Signer Sassi
get money for them both. In the end they got so
much that there was nothing left. Her share all
went to convents and extraordinary charities, and
his went heaven knows where ! '

' And yours ? ' asked the Baroness, to see what
she would say.

' I suppose it went to them too, like everything
else, and to my mother, who spent a great deal of
money. At all events, none of us have anything
now. That is why I want to work.'

' It is an honourable impulse, no doubt,' the
Baroness said, in a tone of meditative disapproval.

Sabina leaned forward, her chin on her hand.

* You think I am too young,' she said. * And
I really know nothing, except bad French and
dancing. I cannot even sew, at least, not very
well, and I cannot cook.' She laughed. * I once
made some very good toast,' she added, thought-
fully.

' You must marry,' said the Baroness. ' You
must make a good marriage.'

' No one will marry me, because I have no
dowry,' answered Sabina with perfect simplicity.

* Some men marry girls who have none. You
are very pretty, you know.'

* So my mother used to tell me when she was
in a good-humour. But Clementina always said I
was hideous, that my eyes were like a little p:
quite inside my head, and that my hair was grey.

H

98 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

like an old woman's, and that I was as thin as a
grasshopper.'

' You are very pretty,' the Baroness repeated
with conviction ; ' and I am sure you would make
a good wife.'

' I am afraid not ! ' Sabina laughed. c We
are none of us good, you know. Why should
I be?'

The Baroness disapproved.

* That is a flippant speech,' she said, severely.

* I do not feel flippant at all. I am very serious.
I wish to earn my living.'

' But you cannot —

' But I wish to,' answered Sabina, as if that
settled the question.

* Have you always done what you wished ? '
asked the Baroness wisely.

' No, never. That is why I mean to begin at
once. I am sure I can learn to be a maid, or to
make hats, or feed babies with bottles. Many
girls of eighteen can.'

The Baroness shrugged her shoulders in a
decidedly plebeian way. Sabina's talk seemed very
silly to her, no doubt, but she felt slightly foolish
herself just then. At close quarters and in the
relative intimacy that had grown up between them,
the descendant of all the Conti had turned out to
be very different from what the financier's wife
had expected, and it was not easy to understand
her. Sometimes the girl talked like a woman of
the world, and sometimes like a child. Her
character seemed to be a compound of cynicism
and simplicity, indifference and daring, gentleness,

vii THE HEART OF ROME 99

hardness and pride, all wonderfully amalgamated
under a perfectly self-possessed manner, and per-
vaded by the most undeniable charm. It was no
wonder that the poor Baroness was as puzzled as
a hen that has hatched a swan.

Sabina had behaved perfectly, so far ; the
Baroness admitted this, and it had added con-
siderably to her growing social importance to be
regarded as the girl's temporary guardian. Even
royalty had expressed its approval of her conduct
and its appreciation of her generosity, and it was
one of the Baroness's chief ambitions to be noticed
by royalty. She had shown a good deal of tact,
too, for she was woman enough to guess what the
girl must feel, and how hard it must be to accept
so much without any prospect of being able to
make a return. So far, however, matters had gone
very well, and she had really begun to look forward
to the glory of presenting Sabina in society during
the following winter, and of steering her to a rich
marriage, penniless though she was.

But this morning she had received a new im-
pression which disturbed her. It was not that she
attached much importance to Sabina's wild talk
about working for a living, for that was absurd,
on the face of it ; but there was something daring
in the tone, something in the little careless laugh
which made her feel that the delicate girl might be
capable of doing very unexpected and dangerous
things. The sudden conviction came upon her
that Sabina was of the kind that run away and
make love matches, and otherwise break through
social conventions in a manner quite irreparable.

ioo THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

And if Sabina did anything of that sort, the ,
Baroness would not only lose all the glory she had
gained, but would of course be severely blamed by
Roman society, which would be an awful calamity
if it did not amount to a social fall. She alone
knew how hard she had worked to build up her
position, and she guessed how easily an accident
might destroy it. Her husband had his politics
and his finance to interest him, but- what would be
left to his wife if she once lost her hold upon the
aristocracy ? Even the smile of royalty would not
make up for that, and royalty would certainly not
smile if Sabina, being in her charge, did anything
very startlingly unconventional.

Sabina was quite conscious that the Baroness
did not understand ; indeed, she had not really
expected to be understood, and when she saw the
shrug of the shoulders that answered her last speech
she rose quietly and went to the window. The
blinds were .drawn together, for it was now late in
May, but she could see down to the street, and as
she looked she started a little.

' There is Signer Malipieri ! ' she cried, and it
was clear that she was glad.

The Baroness uttered an exclamation of sur-
prise.

* Are you sure ? ' she asked.

Yes, Sabina was quite sure. He had just driven
up to the door in a cab. Now he was paying the
cabman, too, instead of making him wait. The
Baroness glanced at the showy little clock set in
turquoises, which stood on her writing-table, and
she put away her unfinished letter.

v.i THE HEART OF ROME 101

' We will ask him to stay to luncheon/ she said,
in a decided tone.

After sending up to ask if he would be received
Malipieri entered the room with an apology. He
said that he had hoped to find the Baron in, and
had been told that he might come at any moment.
The Baroness thereupon asked the visitor to stay to
luncheon, and Malipieri accepted, and sat down.

It had always amused Sabina to watch how the
Baroness's manner changed when any one appeared
whom she did not know very well. Her mouth
assumed a stereotyped smile, she held her head a
little forward and on one side, and she spoke in
quite another tone. But just now Sabina did not
notice these things. She was renewing her im-
pression of Malipieri, whom she had only seen
once and in evening dress. She liked him even
better now, she thought, and it would have pleased
her to look at him longer.

Their eyes met in a glance as he told the
Baroness that he had come to see Volterra on a
matter of business. He did not explain what the
business was, and at once began to talk of other
things, as if to escape possible questions. Sabina
thought he was paler than before, or less sunburnt,
perhaps ; at all events, the contrast between his
very white forehead and his bronzed face was Jess
strong. She could see his eyes more distinctly,
too, than she had seen them in the evening, and
she liked their expression better, for he did not
look at all bored now. She liked his voice, too,
for the slight harshness that seemed always ready
to command. She 'liked the man altogether, and

102 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

was conscious of the fact, and wished she could
talk with him again, as she had talked that
evening on the sofa in the corner, without fear of
interruption.

That was impossible, and she listened to what
he said. It was merely the small talk of a man of
the world who knows that he is expected to say
something not altogether dull, and takes pains to
be agreeable, but Sabina felt all through it a sort
of sympathy which she missed very much in the
Volterra household, the certainty of fellowship
which people who have been brought up in similar
surroundings feel when they meet in an atmosphere
not their own.

A few minutes after he had come, a servant
opened the door and said that the Baron wished to
speak to the Baroness at the telephone. She rose,
hesitated a moment and went out, leaving the two
young people together.

* I have seen Sassi,' said Malipieri in a low voice,
as soon as the door was shut.

'Yes,' answered Sabina, with a little interroga-
tion.

She was very much surprised to hear a slight
tremor in her own voice as she uttered the one
word.

' I like him very much,' Malipieri continued.
' He is a good friend to you. He said that if
anything of importance happened he would come
and see you.'

* I shall be glad,' Sabina said.

' Something is happening, which may bring him.
Be sure to see him alone, when he comes.'

THE HEART OF ROME 103

4 Yes, but what is it ? What can possibly
happen that can make a difference ? '

Malipieri glanced at the door, fearing that the
Baroness might enter suddenly.

* Can you keep a secret ? ' he asked quickly.

* Of course ! Tell me ! ' She leaned forward
with eager interest, expecting his next words.

* Did you ever hear that something very valuable
is said to be hidden somewhere under the palace ? '

Sabina's face fell and the eagerness faded from
her eyes instantly. She had often heard the story
from her nurses when she had been a little girl,
and she did not believe a word of it, any more
than she believed that the marble statue of Car-
dinal Conti in the library really came down from
its pedestal on the eve of All Souls' and walked
through the state apartments, or the myth about
the armour of Francesco Conti, of which the nurses
used to tell her that on the anniversary of the
night of his murder his eyes could be seen through
the bars of the helmet, glowing with the infernal
fire. As for any hidden treasure, she was quite
positive that if it existed her brother and sister
would have got at it long ago. Malipieri sank in
her estimation as soon as he mentioned it. He
was only a Venetian, of course, and could not be
expected to know much about Rome, but he must
be very weak-minded if he could be imposed upon
by such nonsense. Her delicate lip curled with a
little contempt.

* Is that the great secret ? ' she asked. ' I
thought you were in earnest.'

* The Senator is,' observed Malipieri drily.

io4 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

* If the old gentleman has made you believe
that he is, he must have some very deep scheme.
He does not like to seem foolish.'

Malipieri did not answer at once, but he betrayed
no annoyance. In the short silence, he could hear
the Baroness's powerful voice yelling at the tele-
phone. It ceased suddenly, and he guessed that
she was coming back.

' If I find anything, I wish you to see it before
any one else does,' he said quickly.

' That would be very amusing ! ' Sabina laughed
incredulously, just as the door opened.

The Baroness heard the light laughter, and
stood still with her hand on the latch, as if she
had forgotten something. She was not a woman
of sudden intuitions nor much given to acting on
impulses, and when a new idea crossed her mind
she almost always paused to think it over, no
matter what she chanced to be doing. It was as if
she had accidentally run against something which
stunned her a little.

' What is it ? ' asked Sabina, very naturally.

The Baroness beckoned silently to her, and she
rose.

' Only one moment, Signor Malpieri,' said the
Baroness, apologizing for leaving him alone.

When she and Sabina were out of the room, she
shut the door and went on a few paces before
speaking.

pMy husband has telephoned that he cannot
leave the Senate,' she said.

4 Well ? ' Sabina did not understand.

'But Malipieri has come expressly to see him.'

vii THE HEART OF ROME 105

4 He can see him at the Senate,' sugg«.
Sabina.

' But I have asked Malipieri to stay to luncheon.
If I tell him that my husband is not coming,
perhaps he will not stay after all.'

' Perhaps not,' echoed Sabina with great calm-
ness.

' You do not seem to care,' said the Baroness.

4 Why should I ? '

4 I thought you liked him. I thought it would
amuse you if he lunched with us.'

Sabina looked at her with some curiosity.

' Did you tell the Baron that Signor Malipieri
is here ? ' she asked carelessly.

4 No,' answered the Baroness, looking away.
' As my husband said he could not come to
luncheon, it seemed useless.'

Sabina understood now, and smiled. This was
the direct consequence of the talk which had
preceded Malipieri's coming ; the Baroness had
at once conceived the idea of marrying her to
Malipieri.

' What shall we do ? ' asked the Baroness.

* Whatever you think best,' answered Sabina,
with sudden meekness. 4 1 think you ought at
least to tell Signor Malipieri that the Baron is not
coming. He may be in a hurry, you know. He
may be wasting time.'

The Baroness smiled incredulously.

4 My dear,' she said, ' if he had been so very
anxious to see my husband, he would have gone
to the Senate first. It is near the palace.'

She said no more, but led the way back to the

106 THE HEART OF ROME

morning room, while Sabina reflected upon the
possible truth of the last suggestion, and wondered
whether Malipieri had really made his visit for
the sake of exchanging a few words with her then
in order to see Volterra. The Baroness spoke to
him as she opened the door.

' My husband has not come yet,' she said.
* We will not wait for him.'

She rang the bell to order luncheon, and Mali-
pieri glanced at Sabina's face, wondering what the
Baroness had said to her, for it was not reasonable
to suppose that the two had left the room in order
to consult in secret upon the question of waiting
for Volterra. But Sabina did not meet his look,
and her pale young face was impenetrably calm,
for she was thinking about what she had just dis-
covered. She was as certain that she knew what
had passed in the Baroness's thoughts, as if the
latter had spoken aloud. The knowledge, for it
amounted to that, momentarily chased away the
recollection of what Malipieri had said.

It was rather amusing to be looked upon as
marriageable, and to a man she already knew. Her
mother had often talked to her with cynical frank-
ness, telling her that she was to make the best
match that could be obtained for her, naming
numbers of young men she had never seen and
assuring her that likes and dislikes had nothing to
do with matrimony. They came afterwards, the
Princess said, and it generally pleased Providence
to send a mild form of aversion as the permanent
condition of the bond. But Sabina had never
believed her mother, who had cheated her when

•

tn THE HEART OF ROME 107

she was a child, as many foolish and heartless
women do, promising rewards which were never
given, and excursions which were always put off
and little joys which always turned to sorrows less
little by far.

Moreover, her sister Clementina had told her
that there was only one way to treat the world,
and that was to leave it with the contempt it
deserved ; and she had heard her brother tell his
wife in one of his miserable fits of weakly brutal
anger that marriage was hell, and nothing else ;
to which the young princess had coldly replied
that he was only where he deserved to be. Sabina
had not been brought up with the traditional pious
and proper views about matrimony, and if she did
not think even worse of it, the merit was due to
her own nature, in which there was much good
and hardly any real evil.

But she could not escape from a little inherited
and acquired cynicism either, and while Malipieri
chatted quietly during luncheon, an explanation
of the whole matter occurred to her which was
not pleasant to contemplate. The story about
the treasure might or might not be true, but he
believed in it, and so did Volterra. The Baron
was therefore employing him to discover the prize.
But Malipieri showed plainly that he wished her
to possess it, if it were ever found, and perhaps he
meant it to be her dowry, in which case it would
come into his own hands if he could marry her.
This was ingenious, if it was nothing else, and though
Sabina felt that there was something mean about
it, she resented the idea that he should expect her

108 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

VII

to think him a model of generosity when she
hardly knew him.

She was therefore very quiet, and looked at
him rather coldly when he spoke to her, but the
Baroness put this down to her admirably correct
manners, and was already beginning to consider
how she could approach Malipieri on the subject
of his marrying Sabina. She was quite in ignor-
ance of the business which had brought him and
her husband together, as Sabina now knew from
many remarks she remembered. Volterra was
accustomed to tell his wife what he had been
•doing when the matter was settled, and she had
long ago given up trying to make him talk of his
affairs when he chose to be silent.

On the whole, so far as Sabina was concerned,
the circumstances were not at first very favour-
able to the Baroness's newly formed plan on this
occasion, though she did not know it. On the
other hand, Malipieri discovered before luncheon
was over, that Sabina interested him very much,
that she was much prettier than he had realized
at his first meeting with her, and that he had
unconsciously thought about her a good deal in
the interval.

CHAPTER VIII

MALI FIERI was convinced before long that his
doings interested some one who was able to employ
men to watch him, and he connected the fact
with Bruni's visit. He was not much disturbed
by it, however, and was careful not to show
that he noticed it at all. Naturally enough, he
supposed that his short career as a promoter of
republican ideas had caused him to be remembered
as a dangerous person, and that a careful ministry
was anxious to know why he lived alone in a vast
palace, in the heart of Rome, knowing very few
people and seeing hardly any one except Volterra.
The Baron himself was apparently quite indifferent
to any risk in the matter, and yet, as a staunch
monarchist and supporter of the ministry then in
office, it might have been expected that he would
not openly associate with the monarchy's professed
enemies. That was his affair, as Malipieri had
frankly told him at the beginning. For the rest,
the young architect smiled as he thought of the
time and money the government was wasting on
the supposition that he was plotting against it,
but it annoyed him to find that certain faces of
men in the streets were becoming familiar to him,

109

no THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

quiet, blank faces of respectable middle-aged men,
who always avoided meeting his eyes, and were
very polite in standing aside to let him pass them
on the pavement. There were now three whom he
knew by sight, and he saw one of them every time
he went out of the house. He knew what that
meant. He had not the smallest doubt but that
all three reported what they saw of his movements
to Signer Vittorio Bruni, every day, in some par-
ticularly quiet little office in one of the govern-
ment buildings connected with the Ministry of the
Interior. It troubled him very little, since he
was quite innocent of any political machinations
for the present.

He had determined from the first not to employ
any workmen to help him unless it should be
absolutely necessary. He was strong and his
practical experience in Carthage had taught him
the use of pick and crowbar. Masin was equal
to two ordinary men for such work, and could be
trusted to hold his tongue.

Malipieri told the porter that he was exploring
the foundations before attempting to strengthen
them, and from time to time he gave him a little
money. At first the old man offered to call Toto,
who had always served the house, he said ; but
Malipieri answered that no help was needed in a
mere preliminary exploration, and that another
man would only be in the way. He made no
secret of the fact that he was working with his
own hands, however. Every morning, he and his
servant went down into the north-west cellars by
a winding staircase that was entered from a passage

VIII

THE HEART OF ROME in

between the disused stables and the empty coach-
house. Like every large Roman palace, the
Palazzo Conti had two arched entrances, one of
which had never been opened except on important
occasions, when the carriages that drove in on the
one side drove out at the other after their owner
had alighted. This second gate was at the west
end of the court, not far from the coach-house.
To reach their work Malipieri and Masin had to
go down the grand staircase and pass the porter's
lodge. Masin wore the rough clothes of a working
mason and Malipieri appeared in overalls and a
heavy canvas jacket. Very soon the garments
of both were so effectually stained with mud,
green mould and water that the two men could
hardly have been distinguished from ordinary day
labourers, even in broad daylight.

They began work on the very spot at which the
snuffy little expert had stopped to listen to the
water. It was evidently out of the question to
break through the wall at the level of the cellar
floor, for the water could be heard running steadily
through its hidden channel, and if this were opened
the cellars might be completely flooded. Besides,
Malipieri knew that the water might rise unex-
pectedly to a considerable height.

It was therefore best to make the opening as
high as possible, under the vault, which at that
point was not more than ten feet from the ground.
The simplest plan would have been to put up a
small scaffolding on which to work, but there was
no timber suitable for the purpose in the cellar,
and Malipieri did not wish to endanger the secrecy

ii2 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

of his operations by having any brought down.
He therefore set to work to excavate an inclined
aperture, like a tunnel, which began at a height of
about five feet and was intended to slope upwards
so as to reach the interior chamber at the highest
point practicable.

It was very hard work at first, and it was not
unattended by danger. Masin declared at the
outset that it was impracticable without blasting.
The wall appeared to be built of solid blocks of
travertine stone, rough hewn on the face but neatly
fitted together. It would take two men several
days to loosen a single one of these blocks, and if
they finally succeeded in moving it, it must fall to
the ground at once, for their united strength
would not have sufficed to lower it gently.

' The facing is stone,' said Malipieri, ' but we
shall find bricks behind it. If we do not, we
must try to get in by some other way.'

In order to get any leverage at all, it was
necessary to chisel out a space between the first
block to be moved and those that touched it, an
operation which occupied two whole days. Masin
worked doggedly and systematically, and Mali-
pieri imitated him as well as he could, but more
than once nearly blinded himself with the flying
chips of stone, and though he was strong his
hands ached and trembled at the end of the day,
so that he could hardly hold a pen. To Masin it
was easy enough, and was merely a question of
time and patience. He begged Malipieri to let
him do it alone, but the architect would not hear
of that, since there was room for two to use their

VIM THE HEART OF ROME 113

tools at the same time, at opposite ends of the block.
He was in haste to get over the first obstacle,
which he believed to be by far the most difficult,
and he was not the kind of man to sit idly watch-
ing another at work without trying to help him.

On the third day they made an attempt to use
a crowbar. They had two very heavy ones, but
they did not try to use both, and united their
strength upon one only. They might as well
have tried to move the whole palace, and it looked
as if they would be obliged to cut the block itself
away with hammer and chisel, a labour of a fort-
night, perhaps, considering the awkward position
in which they had to work.

' One dynamite cartridge would do it ! ' laughed
Malipieri, as he looked at the huge stone.

* Thank you, Sir,' answered Masin, taking the
suggestion seriously. ' I have been in the galleys
seven years, and that is enough for a lifetime.
We must try and split it with wedges.'

* There is no other way.'

They had all the tools necessary for the
old-fashioned operation ; three drilling irons, of
different sizes, and a small sledge-hammer, and
they went to work without delay. Malipieri held
the iron horizontally against the stone with both
hands, turning it a little after Masin had struck it
with the sledge. It was very exhausting after a
time, as the whole weight of the tool was at first
carried by Malipieri's uplifted hands. Moreover,
if he forgot to grasp it very firmly, the vibration of
the blow made the palms of his hands sting till they
were numb. At regular intervals the men changed

i

1 14 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

places, Masin held the drill and Malipleri took the
hammer. Every now and then they raked out
the dust from the deepening hole with a little
round scoop made for the purpose and riveted
to the end of a light iron rod a yard long.

Hour after hour they toiled thus together, far
down under the palace, in the damp, close air,
that was cold and yet stifling to breathe. The
hole was now over two feet deep.

Suddenly, as Masin delivered a heavy blow,
the drill ran in an inch instead of recoiling in
Malipieri's tight hold.

' Bricks,' said Masin, resting on the haft of the
long hammer.

Malipieri removed the drill, took the scoop
and drew out the dust and minute chips. Hitherto
the stuff had been grey, but now, as he held his
hand under the round hole to catch what came,
a little bit of dark red brick fell intfc his palm.
He picked it out carefully and held it close to the
bright unshaded lamp.

' Roman brick,' he said, after a moment.

' We are not in Milan,' observed Masin,
by way of telling his master that he did not
understand.

* Ancient Roman brick,' said Malipieri. ' It is
just what I expected. This is part of the wall of
an old Roman building, built of bricks and faced
with travertine. If we can get this block out, the
worst will be over.'

* It is easier to drill holes in stone than in
water,' said Masin, who had put his ear to the
hole. ' I can hear it much louder now.'

v,n THE HEART OF ROME 115

' Of course you can,' answered Malipieri. 'We
are wasting time,' he added, picking up the drill
and holding it against the block at a point six
inches higher than before.

Masin took his sledge again and hammered
away with dogged regularity. So the work went
on all that day, and all the next. And after that
they took another tool and widened the holes, and
then a third till they were two inches in diameter.

Masin suggested that they might drive an iron
on through the brickwork, and find out how much
of it there was beyond the stone, but Malipieri
pointed out that if the * lost water ' should rise it
would pour out through the hole and stop their
operations effectually. The entrance must incline
upwards, he said.

They made long round plugs of soft pine to fit
the holes exactly, each one scored with a channel a
quarter of an inch deep, which was on the upper
side when they had driven the plugs into their
places, and was intended to lead the water along
the wood, so as to wet it more thoroughly. To
do this Malipieri poked long cotton wicks into each
channel with a wire, as far as possible. He made
Masin buy half-a-dozen coarse sponges and tied
one upon the upper end of each projecting plug.
Finally he wet all the sponges thoroughly and
wound coarse cloths loosely round them to keep
in as much of the water as possible. By pouring
on water from time to time the soft wood was to
be ultimately wet through, the wicks leading the
moisture constantly inward, and in the end the
great block must inevitably be split into halves.

n6 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

It is the prehistoric method, and there never was
any other way of cleaving very hard stone until
gunpowder first brought in blasting. It is slow,
but it is quite sure.

The place where the two men had been working
was many feet below the level of the courtyard,
but the porter could now and then hear the sound
of blows echoing under ground through the vast
empty cellars, even when he stood near the great
entrance.

Toto heard the noise too, one day, as he was
standing still to light his pipe in the Vicolo dei
Soldati. When it struck his ear he let the match
burn out till it singed his horny fingers. His
expression became even more blank than usual,
but he looked up and down the street, to see if he
were alone, and upward at the windows of the
house opposite. Nobody was in sight, but in
order to place his ear close to the wall and listen,
he made a pretence of fastening his shoe-string.
The sound came to him from very far beneath,
regular as the panting of an engine. He knew
his trade, and recognised the steady hammering on
the end of a stone drill, very unlike the irregular
blows of a pickaxe or a crowbar. The ' moles '
were at work, and knew their business ; sooner or
later they would break through. But Toto could
not guess that the work was being actually done by
Malipieri and his servant, without help. One man
alone could not do it, and the profound contempt
of the artisan for any outsider who attempts his
trade, made Toto feel quite sure that one or more
masons had been called in to make a breach in the

viii THE HEART OF ROME 117

foundation wall. As he stood up and lighted his
pipe at last, he grinned all alone, and then slouched
on, his heart full of very evil designs. Had he
not always been the mason of the Palazzo Conti r
And his father before him ? And his grandfather,
who had lost his life down there, where the moles
were working ? And now that he was turned out,
and others were called in to do a particularly con-
fidential job, should he not be revenged ? He bit
his pipe and thrust his rough hands deep into the
pockets of his fustian trousers, and instead of
turning into the wine-shop to meet Gigi, he went
off for a walk by himself through all the narrow
and winding streets that lie between the Palazzo
Conti and Monte Giordano.

He came to no immediate conclusion, and more-
over there was no great hurry. He knew well
enough that it would take time to pierce the wall,
after the drilling was over, and he could easily tell
when that point was reached by listening every
day in the Vicolo dei Soldati. It would still be soon
enough to play tricks with the water, if he chose
that form of vengeance, and he grinned again as
he thought of the vast expense he could force
upon Volterra in order to save the palace. But he
might do something else. Instead of flooding the
cellars and possibly drowning the masons who had
ousted him, he could turn informer and defeat the
schemes of Volterra and Malipieri, for he never
doubted but that if they found anything of value
they meant to keep the whole profit of it to
themselves.

He had the most vague notions of what the

n8 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

treasure might be. When the fatal accident had
happened his grandfather had been the only man
who had actually penetrated into the innermost
hiding-place ; the rest had fled when the water
rose and had left him to drown. They had seen
nothing, and their story had been handed down as
a mere record of the catastrophe. Toto knew at
least that the vaults had then been entered from
above, which was by far the easier way, but a new
pavement had long ago covered all traces of the
aperture.

There was probably gold down there, gold of
the ancients, in earthen jars. That was Toto's
belief, and he also believed that when it was found
it would belong to the government, because the
government took everything, but that somehow,
in real justice, it should belong to the Pope. For
Toto was not only a genuine Roman of the people,
but had always regarded himself as a sort of
hereditary retainer of an ancient house.

His mind worked slowly. A day passed, and
he heard the steady hammering still, and after
a second night he reached a final conclusion.
The Pope must have the treasure, whatever it
might be.

That, he decided, was the only truly moral
view, and the only one which satisfied his con-
science. It would doubtless be very amusing to
be revenged on the masons by drowning them in a
cellar, with the absolute certainty of never being
suspected of the deed. The plan had great
attractions. The masons themselves should have
known better than to accept a job which belonged

vin

THE HEART OF ROME 119

by right to him, and they undoubtedly deserved
to be drowned. Yet Toto somehow felt that as
there was no woman in the cast he might some
day, in his far old age, be sorry for having killed
several men in cold blood. It was really not
strictly moral, after all, especially as his grand-
father's death had been properly avenged by the
death -of the murderer.

As for allowing the government to have a share
in the profits of the discovery, that was not to be
thought of. He was a Roman, and the Italian
government was his natural enemy. If he could
have turned all the ' lost water ' in the city upon
the whole government collectively, in the cellars
of the Palazzo Conti, he would have felt that it
was strictly moral to do so. The government had
stolen more than two years of his life by making
him serve in the army, and he was not going to
return good for evil. With beautiful simplicity
of reasoning he cursed the souls of the govern-
ment's dead daily, as if it had been a family of his
acquaintance.

But the Pope was quite another personage.
There had always been popes, and there always
would be till the last judgment, and everything
connected with the Vatican would last as long as
the world itself. Toto was a conservative. His
work had always kept him among lasting things of
brick and stone, and he was proud of never having
taken a day's wages for helping to put up the
modern new-fangled buildings he despised. The
most lasting of all buildings in the world was
the Vatican, and the most permanent institution

120 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP, vm

conceivable was the Pope. Gigi, who made
wretched, perishable objects of wood and nails
and glue, such as doors and windows, sometimes
launched into modern ideas. Toto would have
liked to know how many times the doors and
windows of the Palazzo Conti had been renewed
since the walls had been built ! He pitied Gigi
always, and sometimes he despised him, though
they were good friends enough in the ordinary
sense.

The Pope should have the treasure. That was
settled, and the only question remaining concerned
the means of transferring it to him when it was
discovered.

CHAPTER IX

ONE evening it chanced that the Volterra couple
were dining out, and that Sabina, having gone up
to her room to spend the evening, had forgotten
the book she was reading and came downstairs
half-an-hour later to get it. She opened the
drawing-room door and went straight to the table
on which she had left the volume. As she turned
to go back she started and uttered a little cry,
almost of terror.

Malipieri was standing before the mantelpiece,
looking at her.

*I am afraid I frightened you,' he said quietly.
' Pray forgive me.'

' Not at all,' Sabina answered, resting the book
she held in her hand upon the edge of the table.
4 1 did not know any one was here.'

' I said I would wait till the Senator came
home,' Malipieri said.

' Yes.' Sabina hesitated a moment and then
sat down.

She smiled, perhaps at herself. In her mother's
house it would have been thought extremely im-
proper for her to be left alone with a young man
during ten minutes, but she knew that the Baroness

122 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

held much more modern views, and would probably
be delighted that she and Malipieri should spend
an hour together. He had been asked to luncheon
again, but had declined on the ground of being
too busy, much to the Baroness's annoyance.

Malipieri seated himself on a small chair at a
discreet distance.

* I happened to know that they were going out,'
he said, * so I came.'

Sabina looked at him in surprise. It was an
odd way to begin a conversation.

* I wanted to see you alone,' he explained. ' I
thought perhaps you would come down.'

' It was an accident,' Sabina answered. * I had
left my book here. No one told me that you had
come.'

' Of course not. I took the chance that a
lucky accident might happen. It has, but I hope
you are not displeased. If you are, you can turn
me out.'

' I could go back to my room.' Sabina laughed.
* Why should I be displeased ? '

* I have not the least idea whether you like me
or not,' answered Malipieri.

Sabina wondered whether all men talked like
this, or whether it were not more usual to begin
with a few generalities. She was really quite sure
that she liked Malipieri, but it was a little embarrass-
ing to be called upon to tell him so at once.

' If I wanted you to go away, I should not sit
down,' she said, still smiling.

' I hate conventions,' answered Malipieri, * and
I fancy that you do, too. We were both brought

,x THE HEART OF ROME 123

up in them, and I suppose we think alike about
them.'

* Perhaps.'

Sabina turned over the book she still held, and
looked at the back of it.

' Exactly,' continued Malipieri. ' But I do not
mean that what we are doing now is so dread-
fully unconventional after all. Thank heaven,
manners have changed since I was a boy, and even
in Italy we may be allowed to talk together a few
minutes without being suspected of planning a
runaway marriage. I wanted to see you alone
because I wish you to do something very much
more " improper," as society calls it.'

Sabina looked up with innocent and inquiring
eyes, but said nothing in answer.

* I have found something,' he said. ' I should
like you to see it.

' There is nothing so very terrible in that,'
replied Sabina, looking at him steadily.

* The world would think differently. But if
you will trust me the world need never know
anything about it. You will have to come alone.
That is the difficulty.'

' Alone ? ' Sabina repeated the word, and in-
stinctively drew herself up a little.

* Yes.'

A short silence followed, and Malipieri waited
for her to speak, but she hesitated. In years, she
was but lately out of childhood, but the evil of
the world had long been near her in her mother's
house, and she knew well enough that if she did
what he asked, and if it were known, her reputation

i24 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

would be gone. She was a little indignant at first,
and was on the point of showing it, but as she
met his eyes once more she felt certain that he
meant no offence to her.

* You must have a very good reason for asking
me to do such a dangerous thing,' she said at last.

' The reasons are complicated,' answered
Malipieri.

* Perhaps I could understand, if you explained
them.'

* Yes, I am sure you can. I will try. In the
first place, you know of the story about a treasure
being concealed in the palace. I spoke of it the
other day, and you laughed at it. When I began,
I was not inclined to believe it myself, for it seems
never to have been anything more than a tradition.
One or two old chronicles speak of it. A Venetian
ambassador wrote about it in the sixteenth century
in one of his reports to his government, suggesting
that the Republic should buy the palace if it were
ever sold. I daresay you have heard that.'

' No. It does not matter. You say you have
found something — that is the important point.'

' Yes ; and the next thing is to keep the secret
for the present, because so many people would like
to know it. The third point of importance is that
you should see the treasure before it is moved,
before I can move it myself, or even see all of it.'

* What is this treasure ? ' asked Sabina, with a
little impatience, for she was really interested.

' All I have seen of it is the hand of what must
be a colossal statue, of gilt bronze. On one of
the fingers there is a ring with a stone which I

ix THE HEART OF ROME 125

believe to be a ruby. If it is, it is worth a great
deal, perhaps as much as the statue itself.'

Sabina's eyes had opened very wide in her
surprise, for she had never really believed the tale,
and even when he had told her that he had found
something she had not thought it could be any-
thing very valuable.

' Are you quite sure you have seen it ? ' she
asked with childlike wonder.

' Yes. I lowered a light into the place, but I
did not go down. There may be other things.
They belong to you.'

' To me ? Why ? * asked Sabina in surprise.

' For a good many reasons which may or may
not be good in law but which are good enough for
me. You were robbed of your dowry — forgive
the expression. I cannot think of another word.
The Senator got possession of the palace for much
less than its market value, let alone what I have
found. He sent for me because I have been
fortunate in finding things, and he believed it just
possible that there might be something hidden
in the foundations. Your family spent long ago
what he lent them on the mortgage, and Sassi
assures me that you never had a penny of it. I
mean you to have your share now. That is all.'

Sabina listened quietly enough to the end.

' Thank you, very much,' she said gravely,
when he had finished.

Then there was another pause. To her
imagination the possibilities of wealth seemed
fabulous, and even Malipieri thought them large ;
but Sabina was not thinking of a fortune for its

126 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

own sake. Of late none of her family had cared
for money except to spend it without counting.
What struck her first was that she would be free
to leave the Volterras' house, that she would be
independent, and that there would be an end of
the almost unbearable situation in which she had
lived since the crash.

' If the Senator can keep it all for himself, he
will,' Malipieri observed, ' and his wife will help
him/

* Do you think this had anything to do with
their anxiety to have me stay with them ? ' asked
Sabina, and as the thought occurred to her the
expression of her eyes changed.

' The Baroness knows nothing at all about the
matter,' answered Malipieri. ' I fancy she only
wanted the social glory of taking charge of you
when your people came to grief. But her husband
will take advantage of the obligation you are
under. I suspect that he will ask you to sign a
paper of some sort, very vaguely drawn up, but
legally binding, by which you will make over to
him all claim whatever on your father's estate.'

' But I have none, have I ? '

' If the facts were known to-morrow, your
brother might at once begin an action to recover,
on the equitable ground that by an extraordinary
chain of circumstances the property has turned out
to be worth much more than any one could have
expected. Do you understand ? '

* Yes. Go on.'

' Very well. The Senator knows that in all
probability the court would decide against your

,x THE HEART OF ROME 127

brother, who has the reputation of a spendthrift,
unless your claim is pushed ; but that any honest
judge, if it were legally possible, would do his best
to award you something. If you had made over
your claim to Volterra, that would be impossible,
and would only strengthen his case.'

*I see,' said Sabina. * It is very complicated.'
' Of course it is. And there are many other
sides to it. The Senator, on his part, is as anxious
to keep the whole matter a secret as I am, for
your sake. He has no idea that there is a colossal
statue in the vaults. He probably hopes to find
gold and jewels which could be taken away quietly
and disposed of without the knowledge of the
government.'

' What has the government to do with it ? '

* It has all sorts of claims on such discoveries,
and especially on works of art. It reserves the
right to buy them from the owners at a valuation,
if they are sold at all.'

' Then the government will buy this statue,
I suppose.'

* In the end, unless it allows the Vatican to buy it.'

* I do not see what is going to happen,' said
Sabina, growing bewildered.

* The Senator must make everything over to
you before it is sold,' answered Malipieri calmly.

' How can he be made to do that ? '

* I do not know, but he shall.'

' Do you mean that the law can force him to ? '

* The law might, perhaps, but I shall find some
much shorter way.'

Sabina was silent for a moment.

128 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

' But he employs you on this work,' she said
suddenly.

' Not exactly.' Malipieri smiled. c I would not
let Volterra pay me to grub underground for his
benefit, any more than I would live in his house
without paying him rent.'

Sabina bit her lip and turned her face away
suddenly, for the thoughtless words had hurt her.

' I agreed to make the search merely because
I am interested in archaeology,' he continued.
' Until I met you I did not care what might become
of anything we found in the palace.'

' Why should you care now ? '

The question rose to her lips before she knew
what she was saying, for what had gone before had
disturbed her a little. It had been a very cruel
speech, though he had not meant it. He looked
at her thoughtfully.

* I am not quite sure why I care,' he answered,
« but I do.'

Neither spoke for some time.

* I suppose you pity me,' Sabina observed at
last, rather resentfully.

He said nothing.

* You probably felt sorry for me as soon as you
saw me,' she continued, leaning back in her chair
and speaking almost coldly. * I am an object of
pity, of course ! '

Malipieri laughed a little at the very girlish
speech.

'No,' he answered. 'I had not thought of
you in that light. I liked you, the first time I saw
you. That is much simpler than pitying.'

THE HEART OF ROME 129

He laughed again, but it was at himself.

' You treat me like a child,' Sabina said
with a little petulance. * You have no right
to!1

' Shall I treat you like a woman, Donna Sabina ? '
he said, suddenly serious.

* Yes. I am sure I am old enough.'

* If you were not, I should certainly not feel as
I do towards you.'

' What do you mean ? '

' If you are a woman, you probably guess.'

'No.'

' You may be offended,' suggested Malipieri.

* Not unless you are rude — or pity me.' She
smiled now.

' Is it very rude to like a person ? ' he asked.
* If you think it is, I will not go on.'

' I am not sure,' said Sabina demurely, and she
looked down.

' In that case it is wiser not to run the risk of
offending you past forgiveness ! '

It was very amusing to hear him talk, for no
man had ever talked to her in this way before.
She knew that he was thought immensely clever,
but he did not seem at all superior now, and she
was glad of it. She should have felt very foolish
if he had discoursed to her learnedly about Car-
thage and antiquities. Instead, he was simple
and natural, and she liked him very much ; and
the little devil that enters into every woman about
the age of sixteen and is not often cast out be-
fore fifty, even by prayer and fasting, suddenly
possessed her.

1 30 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

' Rudeness is not always past forgiveness,' she
said, with a sweet smile.

Malipieri looked at her gravely and wondered
whether he had any right to take up the challenge.
He had never been in love with a young girl in
his life, and somehow it did not seem fair to speak
as he had been speaking. It was very odd that
his sense of honour should assert itself just then.
It might have been due to the artificial traditions
of generations without end, before him. At the
same time, he knew something of women and in
her last speech he recognized the womanly cooing,
the call of the mate, that has drawn men to happi-
ness or destruction ever since the world began.
She was a mere girl, of course, but since he had
said so much, she could not help tempting him to
go to the end and tell her he loved her.

Though Malipieri did not pretend to be a
model of all the virtues, he was thoroughly fair
in all his dealings, according to his lights, and just
then he would have thought it the contrary of fair
to say what she seemed to expect. He knew
instinctively that no one had ever- said it to her
before, which was a good reason for not saying it
lightly ; and he was sure that he could not say it
quite seriously, and almost certain also that she
had not even begun to be really in love herself,
though he felt that she liked him. On the other
hand — for in the flash of a second he argued the
case — he did not feel that she was the hypothetical
defenceless maiden, helpless to resist the wiles of
an equally hypothetical wicked young man. She
had been brought up by a worldly mother since she

ix THE HEART OF ROME 131

had left the convent where she had associated with
other girls, most of whom also had worldly mothers ;
and some of the wildest blood in Europe ran in
her veins.

On the whole, he thought it would be justifiable
to tell her exactly what he felt, and she might do
as she pleased about answering him.

' I think I shall fall in love with you before
long,' he said, with almost unnecessary calmness.

Sabina had not expected that the first de-
claration she received in her life would take this
mild form, but it affected her much more strongly
than she could understand. Her hand tightened
suddenly on the book she held, and she noticed
a little fluttering at her heart and in her throat,
and at the same time she was conscious of a
tremendous determination not to show that she
felt anything at all, but to act as if she had heard
just such things before, and more also.

' Indeed ! ' she said, with admirable indifference.

Malipieri looked at her in surprise. An ex-
perienced flirt of thirty could not have uttered the
single word more effectively.

' I wonder whether you will ever like me better
than you do now,' he said, by way of answer.

She was wondering, too, but it was not likely
that she would admit it.

' I am very fickle,' she replied, with a perfectly
self-possessed little laugh.

'So am I,' Malipieri answered, following her
lead. ' My most desperate love affairs have never
lasted more than a month or two.'

* You have had a great many, I daresay,' Sabina

1 32 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

observed, with no show of interest. She was
amazed and delighted to find how easy it was to
act her new part.

' And you,' he asked, laughing, ' how often
have you been in love already ? '

{ Let me see ! '

She turned her eyes to his, without turning her
head, and letting the book lie in her lap she pre-
tended to count on her fingers. He watched her
gravely, and nodded as she touched each finger,
as if he were counting with her. Suddenly she
dropped both hands and laughed gaily.

' How childish you are ! ' she exclaimed.

' How deliciously frank you are ! ' he retorted,
laughing with her.

It was mere banter, and not witty at that, but
they were growing intimate in it, much faster than
either of them realized, for it was the first time
they had been able to talk together quite without
constraint, and it was the very first time Sabina
had ever had a chance of talking as She pleased to
a man whom she really thought young.

Moreover they were quite modern young people,
and therefore entirely devoid of all the sentiment-
ality and * world - sorrow ' which made youth so
delightfully gloomy and desperately cynical, with-
out the least real cynicism, in the middle of the
nineteenth century. In those days no young man
who showed a ray of belief in anything had a
chance with a woman, and no woman had a chance
with men unless she had a hidden sorrow. Women
used to construct themselves a secret and romantic
grief in those times, with as much skill as they

ix THE HEART OF ROME 133

bestowed on their figure and face, and there were
men who spent hours in reading Schopenhauer in
order to pick out and treasure up a few terribly
telling phrases ; and love-making turned upon the
myth that life was not worth living.

We have changed all that now ; whether for
better or worse, the social historians of the future
will decide for us after we are dead, so we need
not trouble our heads about the decision unless we
set up to be moralists ourselves. The enormous
tidal wave of hypocrisy is retiring, and if the shore
discovered by the receding waves is here and there
horribly devastated and hopelessly bare, it is at least
dry land.

The wave covered everything for a long time,
from religion to manners, from science to furniture,
and we who are old enough to remember, and not
old enough to regret, are rubbing our eyes and
looking about us, as on a new world, amazed at
having submitted so long to what we so heartily
despised, glad to be able to speak our minds at
last about many things, and astounded that people
should at last be allowed to be good and suffered
to be bad, without the affectation of seeming one or
the other, in a certain accepted manner governed
by fashion, and imposed by a civilized and perfectly
intolerant society.

While progress advances, it really looks as if
humanity were reverting to its types, with an
honest effort at simplicity. There is a revival of
the moral individuality of the Middle Ages. The
despot proudly says, like Alexander, or Montrose
in love, that he will reign, and he will reign alone ;

134 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

and he does. The financier plunders mankind and
does not pretend that he is a long lost type of
philanthropist. The anarchist proclaims that it is
virtuous to kill kings, and he kills them. The
wicked do not even make a pretence of going
to church on Sundays. If this goes on, we shall
have saints before long.

Hypocrisy has disappeared even from literature,
since no one who now writes books fit to read can
be supposed to do so out of respect for public
opinion, still less from any such base motive as a
desire for gain.

Malipieri and Sabina both felt that they had
been drawn much nearer together by what had
sounded like idle chatter, and yet neither of them
was inclined to continue talking in the same way.
Moreover time waT passing cjuickly, and there
was a matter to be decided before they parted.
Malipieri returned to the subject of his discovery,
and his desire that Sabina should see it.

U3ut I cannot possibly come to the palace
alone,' she objected. * It is quite out of the
question. Even if ' she stopped.

' What ? ' he asked.

' Even • if I were willing to do it ' she

hesitated again.

' You are not afraid, are you ? ' There was a
slight intonation of irony in his question.

' No, I am not afraid.' She paused a moment.
c I suppose that if I saw a way of coming, I would
come,' she said, then. ' But I see no way. I
cannot go out alone. Every one would know it.
There would be a terrible fuss about it ! '

IX THE HEART OF ROME 135

The idea evidently amused her.
' Could you come with Sassi ? ' asked Malipien
presently. 'He is respectable enough for any-

U" Even that would be thought very strange,'
answered Sabina. ' I have no good reason to give
for going out alone with him.'

'You would not give any reason till
wards, and when it is over there cannot really t
anything to be said about it. The Baroness goes
out every afternoon. You can make an excuse
for staying at home to-morrow, and then you
will be alone in the house. Sassi will call for you
in a closed cab and bring you to the palace,
and I will be at the door to receive you. 1 h
chances are that you will be at home again before
the Baroness comes in, and *e will never know
that you have been out. Does that look very

hard ? '

• No, it looks easy.'

' What time shall Sassi call for you to-morrow ?
asked Malipieri, who wished to settle the matt

at once. r

'At five o'clock,' answered Sabina, atl

moment's thought.

'At five to-morrow, then. You had
not wear anything very new. The place wher
the statue lies is not a drawing-room, you know,
and your frock may be spoilt.'

' Very well.' .... .

She glanced at the clock, looked at Malipien
as if hesitating, and then rose.

' I shall go back to my room now,' she said.

136 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

' Yes. It is better. They may come in at any
moment.' He had risen also.

Their eyes met again, and they smiled at each
other, as they realized what they were doing, that
they had been nearly an hour together, unknown
to any one, and had arranged something very like
a clandestine meeting for the next day. Sabina
put out her hand.

* At five o'clock,' she said again. * Good-night.*
He felt her touch for the first time since they

had met. It was light and elastic as the pressure
of a very delicate spring, perfectly balanced
and controlled. But she, on her side, looked
down suddenly and uttered an exclamation of
surprise.

* Oh ! How rough your hand is ! '

He laughed, and* held out his palm which was
callous as a day labourer's.

* My man and I have done all the work
ourselves,' he said, ' and it has not been play.'

' It must be delightful ! ' answered Sabina with
admiration. * I wish I was a man ! We could
have done it together.'

She went to the door, and she turned to smile
at him again as she laid her hand on the knob.
He remembered her afterwards as she stood there
a single moment with the light on her misty hair
and white cheeks, and the little shadow round
her small bare throat. He remembered that he
would have given anything to bring her back to
the place where she had sat. There was much
less doubt in his mind as to what he felt then
than had been a few minutes earlier.

THE HEART OF ROME 137

Half an hour after Sabina had disappeared
Malipieri and Volterra were seated in deep arm-
chairs in the smoking-room, the Baron having
sent his wife to bed a few minutes after they had
come in. She obeyed meekly as she always did,
for she had early discovered that, although she
was a very energetic woman, Volterra was her
master and that it was hopeless to oppose his
slightest wish. It is true that in return for the
most absolute obedience the fat financier gave her
the strictest fidelity and all the affection of which
he was capable. Like more than one of the great
modern freebooters, the Baron's private life was very
exemplary, yet his wife would have been willing
to forgive him something if she might occasionally
have had her own way.

This evening he was not in good humour, as
Malipieri found out as soon as they were alone
together. He chewed the end of the enormous
Havana he had lighted, he stuck his feet out
straight in front of him, resting his heels on the
floor and turning his shining patent leather toes
straight up, he folded his hands upon the mag-
nificent curve of his white waistcoat, and leaning
his head well back he looked steadily at the ceiling.
All these were very bad signs, as his wife could
have told Malipieri if she had stayed in the
room.

Malipieri smoked in silence for some time, en-
tirely forgetting him and thinking of Sabina. ^

'Well, Mr. Archaeologist,' the Baron said at
last, allowing his big cigar to settle well into one
corner of his mouth, « there is the devil to pay.'

138 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

He spoke as if the trouble were Malipieri's
fault. The younger man eyed him coldly.

' What is the matter ? ' he enquired, without the
least show of interest.

' You are being watched,' answered Volterra,
still looking at the ceiling. ' You are now one
of those interesting people whose movements are
recorded like the weather, every twelve hours.'

' Yes,' said Malipieri. ' I have known that for
some time.'

'The next time you know anything so in-
teresting, I wish you would inform me/ replied
Volterra.

His voice and his way of speaking irritated
Malipieri. The Baroness had been better educated
than her husband from the first ; she was more
adaptable and she had really learned the ways of
the society she loved, but the Baron was never far
from the verge of vulgarity, and he often over-
stepped it.

' When you asked me to help you,' Malipieri
said, ' you knew perfectly well what my political
career had been. I believe you voted for the Bill
which drove me out of the country.'

* Did I ? ' The Baron watched the smoke of
his cigar curling upwards.

'I think you did. Not that I bear you the
least malice. I only mean that you might very
naturally expect that I should be thought a sus-
picious person, and that detectives would follow
me about.'

' Nobody cares a straw for your politics,'
retorted Volterra rudely.

,x THE HEART OF ROME 139

' Then I shall be the more free to think as I
please,' Malipieri answered with calm.

* Perfectly so. In the meantime it is not the
Ministry of the Interior that is watching you. The
present Ministry does not waste time and money on
such nonsense. You are being watched because
you are suspected of trying to get some statues or
pictures out of Italy, in defiance of the Pacca law.'

* Oh ! ' Malipieri blew a whiff of smoke out
with the ejaculation, for he was surprised.

' I have it from one of the cabinet,' Volterra
continued. * He told me the facts confidentially
after dinner. You see, as you are living in my
house, the suspicion is reflected on me.'

' In your house ? '

* The Palazzo Conti is my house,' answered the
Baron, taking his cigar from his mouth for the
first time since he had lighted it, and holding it out
at arm's length with a possessive sweep while he
leaned back and looked at the ceiling again. ' It
all belongs to me,' he said. ' I took it for the
mortgage, with everything in it.'

' By the bye,' said Malipieri, ' what became of
that Velasquez, and those other pictures ? '

' Was there a Velasquez ? ' inquired the Baron
carelessly, without changing his attitude.

* Yes. It was famous all over Europe. It was
a family portrait.'

' I remember ! It turned out to be a copy
after all.'

* A copy ! ' repeated Malipieri incredulously.

4 Yes, the original is in Madrid,' answered the
Baron with imperturbable self-possession.'

i4o THE HEART OF ROME

* And all those other pictures turned out to be
copies, too, I daresay,' suggested Malipieri.

* Every one of them. It was a worthless col-
lection.'

* In that case it was hardly worth while to take
so much trouble in getting them out of the country
secretly.' Malipieri smiled.

* That was the dealer's affair,' answered Volterra
without the least hesitation. ' Dealers are such
fools ! They always make a mystery of every-
thing.'

Malipieri could not help admiring the pro-
portions and qualities of the Baron's lies. The
financier was well aware that Malipieri knew the
pictures to be genuine beyond all doubt. The
disposal of them had been well managed, for when
Malipieri moved into the palace there was not a
painting of value left on the walls, yet there had
been no mention of them in the newspapers, nor
any gossip about them, and the public at large
believed them to be still in their places. As a
matter of fact most of them were already in France
and England, and the Velasquez was in Saint
Petersburg.

' I understand why you are anxious that the
Palazzo Conti should not be watched just now,'
Malipieri said. ' For my part, as I do not believe
in your government, I cannot be expected to
believe in its laws. It is not my business whether
you respect them yourselves or not.'

* Who is breaking the law ? ' asked the Baron
roughly. ' It is absurd to talk in that way. But
as the government has taken it into its head to

ix THE HEART OF ROME 141

suspect that you do, it is not advisable for me, who
am a staunch supporter of the government, to see
too much of you. I am sure you must under-
stand that — it is so simple.'

' In other words ? ' Malipieri looked at him
coldly, waiting for an explanation.

' I cannot afford to have it said that you are
living in the palace for the purpose of helping
dealers to smuggle objects of art out of the
country. That is what I mean.'

' I see. But what objects of art do you mean,
since you have already sent away everything there
was ? '

' It is believed that you had something to do
with that ridiculous affair of the copies,' said
Volterra, his voice suddenly becoming oily.

'They were gone when I moved in.'

' 1 daresay they were. But it would be hard
to prove, and of course the people who bought
the pictures from the dealer insist that they are
genuine, so that there may be trouble some day,
and you may be annoyed about the things if you
stay here any longer.'

* You mean that you advise me to leave Rome.
Is that it ? ' Malipieri now spoke with the utmost
indifference, and glanced carelessly at the end
of his cigar as he knocked the ash into the gold
cup at his side.

'You certainly cannot stay any longer in the
palace,' Volterra said, in an advisory and depreca-
tory tone.

' You seem to be badly frightened,' observed
Malipieri. * I really cannot see why I should

1 42 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

change my quarters until we have finished what
we are doing.'

* I am afraid you will have to go. You are
looked upon as very " suspicious." It would not
be so bad, if your servant had not been a convict.'

4 How do you know that ? ' Malipieri asked
with sudden sternness.

' Everything of that sort is known to the
police,' answered Volterra, whose manner had be-
come very mild. ' Of course you have your own
reasons for employing such a person.'

4 He is an innocent man, who was unjustly
convicted.'

' Oh, indeed ! Poor fellow ! Those things
happen sometimes, I know. It is more than kind
of you to employ him. Nevertheless, you cannot
help seeing that the association of ideas is un-
fortunate and gives a bad impression. The man
was never proved to be innocent, and when he had
served his term, he was involved as your servant
in your political escapade. You do not mind my
speaking of that matter lightly ? It is the safest
way to look at it, is it not ? Yes. The trouble
is that you and your man are both on the black
book, and since the affair has come to the notice
of the government my colleagues are naturally
surprised that you should both be living in a
house that belongs to me.'

' You can explain to your colleagues that you
have let the apartment in the palace to me, and
that as I pay my rent regularly you cannot turn
me out without notice.' Malipieri smiled in-
differently.

,x THE HEART OF ROME 143

* Surely,' said the Baron, affecting some sur-
prise, ' if I ask you, as a favour, to move some-
where else, you will do so ! '

To tell the truth, he was not prepared for
Malipieri's extreme forbearance, for he had expected
an outbreak of temper, at the least, and he still
feared a positive refusal. Instead, the young man
did not seem to care a straw.

* Of course,' he said, * if you ask it as a
favour, I cannot refuse. When should you like
me to go ? '

4 You are really too kind ! ' The Baron was
genuinely delighted and almost grateful — as near
to feeling gratitude, perhaps, as he had ever been
in his life. ' I should hate to hurry you,' he con-
tinued. ' But really, since you are so very good,
I think the sooner you can make it convenient to
move, the better it will be for every one.'

* I could not manage to pack my books and
drawings so soon as to-morrow,' said Malipieri.

* Oh no ! certainly not ! By all means take a
couple of days about it. I could not think of
putting you to any inconvenience.'

'Thanks.' Malipieri smiled pleasantly. 'If
I cannot get off by the day after to-morrow, I
shall certainly move the day after that.'

' I am infinitely obliged. And now that this
unpleasant matter is settled, owing to your won-
derful amiability, do tell me how the work is
proceeding.'

' Fairly well,' Malipieri answered. ' You had
better come and see for yourself before I go. Let
me see. To-morrow I shall have to look about

i44 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

for a lodging. Could you come the day after to-
morrow ? Then we can go down together.'

' How far have you got ? ' asked Volterra, with
a little less interest than might have been expected.

' I am positively sure that there is an inner
chamber, where I expected to find it,' Malipieri
answered, with perfect truth. ' Perhaps we can
get into it when you come/

' I hope so,' said the Baron, watching the other's
face from the corner of his eye.

f I have made a curious discovery in the course
of the excavation,' Malipieri continued. ' The
pillar of masonry which you showed me is hollow
after all. It was the shaft of an oubliette which
must have opened somewhere in the upper part of
the house. There is a well under it.'

' Full of water ? '

* No. It is dry. We shall have to pass
through it to get to the inner chamber. You shall
see for yourself — a very singular construction.'

' Was there nothing in it ? '

'Several skeletons,' answered Malipieri in-
differently. ' One of the skulls has a rusty
knife driven through it.'

* Dear me ! ' exclaimed the Baron, shaking his
fat head. ' Those Conti were terrible people !
We must not tell the Baroness these dreadful
stories. They would upset her nerves.'

Malipieri had not supposed Volterra's wife to
be intensely sensitive. He moved, as if he meant
to take his leave presently.

4 By the bye,' he said, ' whereabouts should you
recommend me to look for a lodging ? '

ix THE HEART OK ROME 145

The Baron reflected a moment.

' If I were you,' he said, ' I would go to a
hotel. In fact, I think you would be wiser to
leave Rome for a time, until all these absurd stones
are forgotten. The least I can do is to warn you
that you may be exposed to a good deal of annoy-
ance if you stay here. The minister with whom I
was talking this evening told me as much in a
friendly way.'

* Really ? That was very kind of him. But
what do you mean by the word " annoyance " ?
It is rather vague. It is one thing to suspect a
man of trying to evade the Pacca law ; it is quite
another matter to issue a warrant of arrest against
him.'

' Oh, quite,' answered Volterra readily. ' I did
not mean that, of course, though when one has
once been arrested for anything, innocent or not,
our police always like to repeat the operation as
soon as possible, just as a matter of principle.'

* In other words, if a man has once been sus-
pected, even unjustly, he had better leave his
country for ever.'

The Baron shrugged his big round shoulders,
and drew a final puff from his cigar before throw-
ing the end away.

* Injustice is only what the majority thinks
of the minority,' he observed. * If you do not
happen to be a man of genius, the first step
towards success in life is to join the majority.'

Malipieri laughed as he rose to his feet, reflect-
ing that in delivering himself of this piece of
worldly wisdom the Baron had probably spoken

146 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP, ix

the truth for the first time since they had been
talking.

' Shall we say day after to-morrow, about five
o'clock ? ' asked Malipieri before going.

' By all means. And let me thank you again
for meeting my views so very obligingly '

1 Not at all/

So Malipieri went home to think matters over,
and the Baron sat a long time in his chair, looking
much pleased with himself and apparently admiring
a magnificent diamond which he wore on one of
his thick fingers.

CHAPTER X

MALIPIERI was convinced that Volterra not only
knew exactly how far the work under the palace
had proceeded, but was also acquainted with the
general nature of the objects found in the inner
chamber, beyond the well shaft. The apparent
impossibility of such a thing was of no importance.
The Baron would never have been so anxious to
get rid of Malipieri unless he had been sure that
the difficult part of the work was finished and that
the things discovered were of such dimensions as
to make it impossible to remove them secretly.
Malipieri knew the man and guessed that if he
could not pocket the value of everything found
in the excavations by disposing of the discoveries
secretly, he would take the government into his
confidence at once, as the surest means of prevent-
ing any one else from getting a share.

What was hard to understand was that Volterra
should know how far the work had gone before
Malipieri had told him anything about it. That
he did know, could hardly be doubted. He had
practically betrayed the fact by the mistake he had
made in assuring himself that Malipieri was willing
to leave the house, before even questioning him as

M7

148 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

to the progress made since they had last met. He
had been a little too eager to get rid of the helper
he no longer needed.

It did not even occur to Malipieri that Masin
could have betrayed him, yet so far as it was
possible to judge, Masin was the only living man
who had looked into the underground chamber.
As he walked home, he recalled the conversation
from beginning to end, and his conviction was
confirmed. Volterra had been in a bad temper,
nervous, a little afraid of the result and therefore
inclined to talk in a rough and bullying tone.
As soon as he had ascertained that Malipieri was
not going to oppose him, he had become oily to
obsequiousness.

On his part Malipieri had accepted everything
Volterra proposed, for two reasons. In the first
place he would not for the world have had the
financier think that he wanted a share of the
treasure, or any remuneration for what he had
done. Secondly, he knew that possession is nine
points of the law, and that if anything could ever
be obtained for Sabina it would not be got by
making a show of violent opposition to the Baron's
wishes. If Malipieri had refused to leave his
lodging in the palace, Volterra could have answered
by filling the house with people in his own employ,
or by calling in government architects, archaeo-
logists and engineers ; and taking the whole
matter out of Malipieri's hands.

The first thing to be ascertained was, who had
entered the vaults and reported the state of the
work to Volterra. Malipieri might have suspected

x THE HEART OF ROME 149

the porter himself, for it was possible that there
might be another key to the outer entrance of the
cellar ; but there was a second door further in, to
which Masin had put a patent padlock, and even
Masin had not the key to that. The little flat bit
of steel, with its irregular indentations, was always in
Malipieri's pocket. As he walked, he felt for it,
and it was in its place, with his silver pencil-case
and the small pen-knife he always carried for
sharpening pencils.

The porter could not possibly have picked that
lock ; indeed, scarcely any one could have done so
without injuring it, and Malipieri had locked it
himself at about seven o'clock that evening. Even
if the porter could have got in by any means,
Malipieri doubted whether he could have reached
the inner chamber of the vaults. There was some
climbing to be done, and the man was old and
stiff" in the joints. The place was not so easy to
find as might have been supposed, either, after the
first breach in the Roman wall was past. Mali-
pieri intended to improve the passage the next
morning, in order to make it more practicable for
Sabina.

He racked his brains for an explanation of
the mystery, and when he reached the door of the
palace, after eleven o'clock, he had come to the
conclusion that in spite of appearances there must
be some entrance to the vaults of which he knew
nothing, and it was all-important to find it. He
regretted the Quixotic impulse which had restrained
him from exploring everything at once. It would
have been far better to go to the end of his

150 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

discovery, and he wondered why he had not done
so. He would not have insulted himself by sup-
posing that Sabina could believe him capable of
taking the gem from the ring of the statue, in
other words, of stealing, since whoever the rightful
owner might be, nothing in the vault could
possibly belong to him, and he regarded it all as
her property, though he doubted whether he could
ever obtain for her a tenth part of the value it
represented. He had acted on an impulse, which
was strengthened until it looked plausible by the
thought of the intense pleasure he would take in
showing her the wonderful discovery, and in
leading her safely through the mysterious in-
tricacies of the strange place. It had been a very
selfish impulse after all, and if he really let her
come the next day, there might even be a little
danger to her.

He let himself in and locked the postern door
behind him. The porter and his wife were asleep
and the glass window of the lodge door was quite
dark. Malipieri lighted a wax taper and went
upstairs.

Masin was waiting, and opened when he heard
his master's footsteps on the landing. As a rule,
he went to bed, if Malipieri went out in the
evening ; both men were usually tired out by
their day's work.

' What is the matter ? ' Malipieri asked.

' There is somebody in the vaults,' Masin
answered. * I had left my pipe on a stone close
to the padlocked door and when you were gone I
took a lantern and went down to get it. When

x THE HEART OF ROME 151

I came near the door I was sure I heard some one
trying it gently from the other side. I stopped
to listen and I distinctly heard footsteps going
away. I ran forward and tried to find a crack, to
see if there were a light, but the door is swollen
with the dampness and fits tightly. Besides, by
the time I had reached it the person inside must
have got well away.'

* What time was it ? ' asked Malipieri, slipping
off his light overcoat.

' You went out at nine o'clock, sir. It
could not have been more than half an hour
later.'

* Light both lanterns. We must go down at
once. See that there is plenty of oil in them.'

In five minutes both men were ready.

* You had better take your revolver, sir,' sug-
gested Masin.

Malipieri laughed.

' I have had that revolver since I was eighteen,'
he said, * and I have never needed it yet. Our
tools are there, and they are better than firearms.'

They went down the staircase quietly, fearing
to wake the porter, and kept close to the north
wall till they reached the further end of the court-
yard. When they had passed the outer door at
the head of the winding staircase, Malipieri told
Masin to lock it after them.

' We cannot padlock the other door from the
inside,' he explained, ' for there are no hasps. It
the man managed to pass us he might get out this
way.'

He led the way down, making as little noise as

152 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

possible. Masin held up his lantern, peering into
the gloom over Malipieri's shoulder.

' No one could pass the other door without
breaking it down,' Malipieri said.

They reached the floor of the cellars, which
extended in both directions from the foot of the
staircase, far to the left by low, dark vaults like
railway tunnels, and a short distance to the right,
where they ended at the north-west corner. The
two men turned that way, but after walking a
dozen yards, they turned to the left and entered a
damp passage barely wide enough for them both
abreast. It ended at the padlocked door, and
before unlocking the latter Malipieri laid his ear
to the rough panel and listened attentively. Not
a sound broke the stillness. He turned the key,
and took off the padlock and slipped it into his
pocket before going on. Without it the door
could not be fastened.

The passage widened suddenly beyond, in an-
other short tunnel ending at the outer foundation
wall of the palace. In this tunnel, on the right-
hand side, was the breach the two men had first
made in order to gain access to the unexplored
region. Now that there was an aperture, the run-
ning water on the other side could be heard very
distinctly, like a little brook in a rocky channel,
but more steady. Both men examined the damp
floor carefully with their lanterns, in the hope of
finding some trace of footsteps ; but the surface
was hard and almost black, and where there had
been a little slime their own feet had rubbed it off,
as they came and went during many days. The

x THE HEART OF ROME 153

stones and rubbish they had taken from the wall
had been piled up and hardened to form an in-
clined causeway by which to reach the irregular
hole. This was now just big enough to allow a
man to walk through it, bending almost double.
Masin lighted one of the lamps, which they
generally left at that place, and set it on a stone.

Malipieri began to go up, his stick in his right
hand, the lantern in his left.

* Let me go first, sir,' said Masin, trying to
pass him.

* Nonsense ! ' Malipieri answered sharply, and
went on.

Masin kept as close to him as possible. He
had picked up the lightest of the drilling irons for
a weapon. It must have weighed at least ten
pounds and it was a yard long. In such a hand
as Masin's a blow from it would have broken a
man's bones like pipe stems.

The wall was about eight feet thick, and when
Malipieri got to the other end of the hole he
stopped and looked down, holding out his lantern
at arm's length. He could see nothing unusual,
and he heard no sound, except the gurgle of the
little black stream that ran ten feet below him.
He began to descend. The masonry was very
irregular, and sloped outwards towards the ground,
so that some of the irregularities made rough steps
here and there, which he knew by heart. Below,
several large fragments of Roman brick and cement
lay here and there, where they had fallen in the
destruction of the original building. It was not
hard to get down, and the space was not large.

154 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

It was bounded by the old wall on one side, and
most of the other was taken up by a part of a
rectangular mass of masonry, of rough mediaeval
construction, which projected inward.

The place was familiar, but Malipieri looked
about him carefully, while Masin was climbing
down. Along the base of the straight wall there
was a channel about two feet wide, through which
the dark water flowed rapidly. It entered from
the right-hand corner, by a low, arched aperture,
through which it seemed out of the question that
a man could crawl, or even an ordinary boy of
twelve. When they had first come to this place
Masin had succeeded in poking in a long stick
with a bit of lighted wax taper fastened to it, and
both men had seen that the channel ran on as far
as it could be seen, with no widening. At the
other end of the chamber it ran out again by a
similar conduit. What had at first surprised
Malipieri had been that the water did not enter
from the side of the foundations near the Vicolo
dei Soldati, but ran out that way. He had also
been astonished at the quantity and speed of the
current. A channel a foot deep and two feet
wide, carries a large quantity of water if the
velocity be great, and Malipieri had made a cal-
culation which had convinced him that if the
outflow were suddenly closed, the small space in
which he now stood would in a few minutes be
full up to within three or four feet of the vault.
He would have given much to know whence the
water came and whither it went, and what devilry
had made it rise suddenly and drown a man when

x THE HEART OF ROME 155

the excavations had been made under Gregory
Sixteenth.

From below, the place where an entrance had
then been opened was clearly visible. The vault
had been broken into and had afterwards been
rebuilt from above. The bits of timber which had
been used for the frame during the operation were
still there, a rotting and mouldy nest for hideous
spiders and noisome creatures that haunt the dark.

The air was very cold, and was laden with the
indescribable smell of dried slime which belongs to
deep wells which have long been almost quite dry.
It was clearly a long time since the little stream
had overflowed its channel, but at the first examina-
tion he had made Malipieri had understood that in
former times the water had risen to within three
feet of the vault. Up to that height there was a
thin coating of the dry mud, which peeled off in
irregular scales if lightly touched. The large
fragments of masonry that half covered the floor
were all coated in the same way with what had
once been a film of slime.

The air, though cold, could be breathed easily,
and the lights did not grow dim in it as they do
in subterranean places where the atmosphere is
foul. The stream of water, flowing swiftly in its
deep channel from under the little arch, brought
plentiful ventilation into it. Above, there was no
aperture in the vaulting, but there was one in the
mediaeval masonry that projected into the chamber.
There, on the side towards the right, where the
water flowed in, Malipieri had found a narrow
slit, barely wide enough to admit a man's open

156 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

hand and wrist, but nearly five feet high, evidently
a passage intended for letting the water flow into
the interior of the construction when it overflowed
its channel and rose above the floor of the chamber.

At first Malipieri had supposed that this aper-
ture communicated with some ancient and long-
forgotten drain by which the water could escape
to the Tiber ; it was not until he had gained an
entrance to the hollow mass of masonry that he
understood the hideous use to which it had been
applied

It had not been hard to enlarge it. Any one
who has worked among ruins in Italy could tell,
even blindfold, the difference between the work
done in ancient times and that of the Middle Ages.
Roman brickwork is quite as compact as solid
sandstone, but mediasval masonry was almost in-
variably built in a hurry by bad workmen, of all
sorts of fragments embedded in poorly mingled
cement, and it breaks up with tolerable ease under
a heavy pickaxe.

In half a day Malipieri and Masin had widened
the slit to a convenient passage, but as soon as it
had been possible to squeeze through, the architect
had gone in. He never forgot what he felt when
he first looked about him. Masin could not follow
him until many blows of the pick had widened the
way for his bulkier frame.

Malipieri stopped at the entrance now, holding
his lantern close to the ground, and looking for
traces of footsteps. He found none, but as he
was about to move forward he uttered an exclama-
tion of surprise, and picked up a tiny object which

x THE HEART OF ROME 157

he held close to the light. It was only a wax
match, of which the head had been broken off
when it had been struck, so that it had not been
lighted. That was all, but neither he nor Masm
carried wax matches in the vaults, because the
dampness soon made them useless. They took
common sulphur matches in tin match-boxes.
Besides, this was an English wax-light, as any one
could tell at a glance, for it was thicker, and
stiffer, and longer than the cheaper Italian ones.

Malipieri drew back and showed it to his man,
who examined it, understood, and put it into his
pocket without a word. Then they both went in
through the aperture in the wall.

The masonry outside was rectangular, as far as
it could be seen. Inside, it was built like a small
circular cistern, smoothly cemented, and contract-
ing above in a dome, that opened by a square hole
to the well-shaft above. Like the stones in the
outer chamber, the cement was coated with scales
of dried mud. The shaft was now certainly closed
at the top, for in the daytime not a ray of light
penetrated into its blackness.

The lanterns illuminated the place completely,
and the two men looked about, searching for some
new trace of a living being. The yellow light fell
only on the remains of men dead long ago. Some
of the bones lay as they had lain since then, when
the drowned bodies had gently reached the floor
as the ' lost water ' subsided. Malipieri had not
touched them, nor Masin either. Two skeletons
lay at full length, face downwards, as a drowned
body always sinks at last, when decay has done

158 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

its loathsome work. A third lay on its side,
in a frightfully natural attitude, the skull a little
raised up and resting against the cemented wall,
the arms stretched out together, the hands still
clutching a rusty crowbar. This one was near the
entrance, and if, in breaking their way in, Malipieri
and Masin had not necessarily destroyed the cement
on each side of the slit, they would have found the
marks where the dead man's crowbar had worked
desperately for a few minutes before he had been
drowned. Malipieri had immediately reflected
that the unfortunate wretch, who was evidently
the mason of whom Sassi had told him, had
certainly not entered through the aperture formerly
made from above in the outer chamber, since the
narrow slit afforded no possible passage to the
well. That doubtless belonged to some other
attempt to find the treasure, and the fact that
the mason's skeleton lay inside would alone have
showed that he had got in from above, most likely
through a low opening just where the dome began
to curve inward. A further search had discovered
some bits of wood, almost rotted to powder, which
had apparently once been a ladder.

A much less practised eye than the architect's
would have understood at a glance that if a living
man were let down through the shaft in the centre
of the dome, and left on the floor, he could not
possibly get up even as far as the other hole, since
the smooth cement offered not the slightest hold ;
and that if the outflow of the stream from the first
chamber were arrested, the water would immediately
fill it and rise simultaneously in the well, to drown

x THE HEART OF ROME 159

the victim, or to strip his bones by its action, if he
had been allowed to die of hunger or thirst. It
was clear, too, that if the latter form of death were
chosen, he must have suffered to the last minute of
his life the agony of hearing the stream flowing
outside, not three paces from him, beyond the slit.
Human imagination could hardly invent a more
hideously cruel death-trap, nor one more ingeni-
ously secret from the world without.

The unhappy mason's ladder had perhaps broken
with his weight, or his light had gone out, and he
had then been unable to find the horizontal aperture,
but he had probably entered through the latter,
when he had met his fate. The fact was, as
Malipieri afterwards guessed, that the hole through
the vault outside had been made hastily after the
accident, in the hope of recovering the man's body,
but that it had been at once closed again because it
appeared to open over a deep pit full of still water.

A stout rope ladder now dangled from the
lateral aperture in the dome, which Malipieri had
immediately understood to have been made to
allow the water to overflow when the well was full.
He had also felt tolerably sure that the well itself
had not been originally constructed for the deadly
use to which it had evidently been put to in later
times, but for the purpose of confining the water
in a reservoir that could be easily cleaned, since it
could be easily emptied, and in which the supply
could be kept at a permanent level, convenient for
drawing it from above. In the days when all the
ancient aqueducts of Rome were broken, a well of
the * lost water ' was a valuable possession in houses

160 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

that were turned into fortresses at a moment's
notice and were sometimes exposed to long and
desperate sieges.

In order to reach the horizontal opening, Mali-
picri had climbed upon Masin's sturdy shoulders,
steadying himself as well as he might till he had
laid his hands on the edge of the orifice. As he
hung there, Masin had held up the handle of a
pickaxe as high as he could reach against the
smooth wall, as a crossbar on which Malipieri
had succeeded in getting a slight foothold, enough
for a man who was not heavy and was extra-
ordinarily active. A moment later he had drawn
himself up and inward. At the imminent risk
of his life, as he afterwards found, he had
crawled on in total darkness till the way widened
enough for him to turn round and get back.
He had then lowered a string he had with
him, and had drawn up a lantern first, then
the end of a coil of rope, then the tools for
carrying on the exploration. The rest had been
easy. Masin had climbed up by the rope, after
making knots in it, and when Malipieri had called
out from the inner place to which he had retired
ivith the end, that it was made fast. But the
light showed the architect that in turning round,
he had narrowly escaped falling into an open
shaft, of which he could not see the bottom, but
ffhich was evidently meant for the final escape of
the overflowing water.

There was room to pass this danger, however,

they had since laid a couple of stout boards

over it, weighted with stones to keep them in

x THE HEART OF ROME 161

place. Beyond, the passage rose till it was high
enough for a man to walk upright. Judging from
the elevation now reached this passage was hollowed
in the thickness of one of the main walls of the
palace, and it was clear that the water could not
reach it. A few yards from the chasm, it inclined
quickly downwards, and at the end there were
half a dozen steps, which evidently descended to
a greater depth than the floor of the first outer
chamber.

So far as it had hitherto been possible to judge,
there was no way of getting to these last steps,
except that opened by the two men, and lead-
ing through the dry well. In former times, there
might have been an entrance through the wall at
the highest level, but if it had ever existed it had
been so carefully closed that no trace of it could
now be found.

This tedious explanation of a rather complicated
construction has been necessary to explain what
afterwards happened. Reducing it to its simplest
terms, it becomes clear that if the water rose, a
person in the passage, or anywhere beyond the
overflow shaft could not possibly get back through
the well, though he would apparently be safe from
drowning if he stayed where he was ; and to the
best of Malipieri's knowledge there was no other
way out. Any one caught there would have to
wait till the water subsided, and if that did not
happen he would starve to death.

The two men stood still and listened. They
could still distinguish the faint gurgling of the
water, very far off, but that was all.

M

1 62 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

* I believe you heard a rat,' said Malipieri, dis-
contentedly, after a long pause.

' Rats do not carry English wax matches,'
observed Masin.

'They eat them when they can find them,'
answered Malipieri. * They carry them off, and
hide them, and drop them, too. And a big rat
running away makes a noise very like a man's
footsteps.'

' That is true,' assented Masin. ' There were
many of them in the prison, and I sometimes
thought they were the keepers when I heard them
at night.'

* At all events, we will go to the end,' said
Malipieri, beginning to walk down the inclined
way, and carrying his lantern low, so as not to
be dazzled by the light.

Masin followed closely, grasping his drilling-
iron, and still expecting to use it. The end of the
passage had once been walled up, but they had
found the fragments of brick and mortar lying
much as they had fallen when knocked away. It
was impossible to tell from which side the obstacle
had been destroyed.

Going further, they stepped upon the curve
of a tunnel vault, and were obliged to stoop low
to avoid striking against another overhead. The
two vaults had been carefully constructed, one
outside the other, leaving a space of about five
feet between them. The one under their feet
covered the inner chamber in which Malipieri had
seen the bronze statue. He and Masin had made
a hole a little on one side of the middle, in order

x THE HEART OF ROME 163

not to disturb the keystones, working very care-
fully lest any heavy fragments should fall through ;
for they had at once been sure that if anything
was to be found, it must be concealed in that
place. Before making the opening, they had
thoroughly explored the dark curved space from
end to end and from side to side, but could dis-
cover no aperture. The inner vault had never
been opened since it had been built.

Malipieri, reconstructing the circumstances of
the accident in the last century, came to the con-
clusion that the mason who had been drowned had
been already between the vaults, when some of
the men behind had discovered that the water was
rising in the well, and that they had somehow got
out in time, but that their unfortunate companion
had come back too late, or had perished while
trying to break his way out by the slit, through
which the water must have been rushing in.
How they had originally entered the place was a
mystery. Possibly they had been lowered from
above, down the well-shaft, but it was all very
hard to explain. The only thing that seemed
certain was that the treasure had never been seen
by any one since it had been closed in under the
vault, ages ago. Malipieri had not yet found
time to make a careful plan of all the places through
which he had passed. There were so many turns
and changes of level, that it would be impossible
to get an accurate drawing without using a theodo-
lite or some similar instrument of precision. From
the measurements he had taken, however, and the
rough sketches he had made, he believed that the

164 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

double vault was not under the palace itself, but
under the open courtyard, at the depth of about
forty feet, and therefore below the level of the
Tiber at average high water.

Both men now knelt by the hole, and Masin
thrust his lantern down to the full length of his
arm. The light shone upon the vast hand of the
statue, and made a deep reflection in the great
ruby of the ring, as if the gem was not a stone,
but a little gold cup filled with rich wine. The
hand itself, the wrist and the great muscles of the
chest on which it lay, seemed of pure gold. But
Malipieri's eyes fixed themselves on something
else. There were marks on the bright surface of
the metal which had not been there when he had
looked at it in the afternoon ; there were patches
of dust, and there were several small scratches,
which might have been made by the nails of heavy
shoes.

' You were right after all,* said Malipieri, with-
drawing the lantern and setting it down beside
him. ' The man is here.'

Masin's china blue eyes brightened at the
thought of a possible fight, and his hold tightened
again on his drill.

* What shall we do with him ? * he asked, look-
ing down into the hole.

Cunning, as the Italian peasant is by nature,
Masin made a sign to his master that the man, if
he were really below could hear all that was said.

' Shall I go down and kill him, Sir ? ' Masin
enquired with a quiet grin and raising his voice a
little.

x THE HEART OF ROME 165

' I am not sure,' Malipieri answered, at once
entering into his man's scheme. ' He is caught in
his own trap. It is not midnight yet, and there is
plenty of time to consider the matter. Let us sit
here and talk about it.'

He now turned himself and sat beside the hole,
placing his lantern near the edge. He took out a
cigar and lit it carefully. Masin sat on the other
side, his drill in his hand.

* If he tries to get out while we are talking,'
he said, ' I can break his skull with a touch of
this.'

* Yes,' Malipieri answered, puffing at his cigar.
* There is no hurry. Keep your iron ready.'

' Yes, Sir,' Masin made the heavy drill ring on
the stones of the vault.
A pause followed.

* Have you got your pipe with you ? ' asked
Malipieri presently. * We must talk over this
quietly.'

* Yes, Sir. Will you hold the iron while I get
a light ? He might try to jump out, and he may
have firearms. Thank you, Sir.'

Masin produced a short black pipe, filled it and
lighted it.

* I was thinking, Sir,' he said as he threw away
the wooden match, * that if we kill him here we
may have trouble in disposing of his body. Thank
you, Sir,' he added as he took over the drill again
and made it clang on the stones.

' There will be no trouble about that,' Mulipieri
answered, speaking over the hole. * We can drop
him down the overflow shaft in the passage.'

1 66 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

' Where do you think the shaft leads, Sir ? '
asked Masin, grinning with delight.

' To some old drain and then to the Tiber, of
course. The body will be found in a week or two,
jammed against the pier of some bridge, probably at
the island of Saint Bartholomew.'

'Yes, Sir. But the drain is dry now. The
body will lie at the bottom of the shaft, where
we drop it, and in a few days the cellars will be
perfumed.'

He laughed roughly at his horrible joke, which
was certainly calculated to affect the nerves of the
intruder who was meant to hear it. Malipieri
began to wonder when the man would give a sign
of life.

' We can fill the well by plugging the arch in
the outer chamber,' he suggested. c Then the
water will pour down the shaft and wash the body
away.'

* Yes, Sir,' assented Masin. ' That is a good
idea. Shall I go down and kill him now, Sir ? '

' Not yet,' Malipieri answered, knocking the
ash from his cigar. * We have not finished smok-
ing, and there is no hurry. Besides, it occurs to
me that if we drive anything into the hole when
the water runs out, we shall not be able to get the
plug away afterwards. Then we ourselves could
never get here again.'

A long silence followed. From time to time
Masin made a little noise with the drill.

'Perhaps the fellow is asleep,' he observed
pleasantly at last. ' So much the better, he will
wake in Paradise ! '

x THE HEART OF ROME 167

* It is of no use to run any risks,' said Mali-
pieri. « If we go down to kill him he may kill
one of us first, especially if he has a revolver.
There is no hurry, I tell you. Do you happen
to know how long it takes to starve a man to
death ? '

' Without water, a man cannot live a week, Sir.
That is the best idea you have had yet.'

' Yes. We will wall him up in the vault. That
is easy enough. Those boards that are over the
shaft will do to make a little frame, and the stones
are all here, just as we got them out. We can
fasten up the frame with ends of rope.'

' We have no mortar, Sir.'

* Mud will do as well for such a small job,'
answered Malipieri. * We can easily make enough.
Give me your iron, in case he tries to get out, and
go and get the boards and the rope.'

Masin began to rise.

' In a week we can come and take him out,'
he remarked, in a matter of fact way. ' By that
time he will be dead, and we can have his grave
ready.'

He laughed again, as he thought of the sensa-
tions his cheerful talk must produce in the mind
of the man below.

* Yes,' said Malipieri. * We may as well do it
at once and go to bed. It is of no use to sit up
all night talking about the fellow's body. Go and
get the rope and the boards.'

Masin was now on his feet and his heavy
shoes made a grinding noise on the stones. At
that moment a sound was heard from below, and

1 68 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

Malipieri held up a finger and listened. Somebody
was moving in the vault.

* You had better stay where you are,* said
Malipieri, speaking down. * If you show yourself
I will drop a stone on your head.'

A hollow voice answered him from the depths.
' Are you Christians,' it asked, * to wall a man
up alive ? '

* That is what we are going to do,' Malipieri
answered coolly. ' Have you anything to say ?
It will not take us long to do the job, so you had
better speak at once. How did you get in ? '

* If I am to die without getting out, why should
I tell you ? ' enquired the voice.

Malipieri looked at Masin.

* There is a certain sense in what the man says,
Sir/ Masin said thoughtfully.

{ My good man,' said Malipieri speaking down,
* we do not want anybody to know the way to this
place for a few days, and as you evidently know it
better than we do, we intend to keep you quiet.'

'If you will let me out, I can serve you,'
answered the man below. * There is nobody in
Rome who can serve you as I can.'

' Who are you ? ' asked Malipieri.

' Are you going to let me out, Signer Mala-
pieri ? ' enquired the man. ' If you are, I will tell
you.'

' Oh ? You know my name, do you ? '

* Perfectly. You are the engineer engaged by
the Senator Volterra to find the treasure.'

« Yes. Quite right. What of that ? '

' You have found it,' answered the other. ' Of

x THE HEART OF ROME 169

what use will it be to kill me? I cannot take
that statue away in my waistcoat pocket, if you
let me out, can I ? '

* You had better not make too many jokes, my
man, or we will put the boards over this hole in
five minutes. If you can really be of use to me,
I will let you out. What is your name ? '

'Toto,' answered the voice sullenly.

'Yes. That means Theodore, I suppose.
Now make haste, for I am tired of waiting.
What are you, and how did you get in ? '

' I was the mason of the palace, until the devil
flew away with the people who lived in it. I
know all the secrets of the house. I can be very
useful to you.'

4 That changes matters, my friend. I have no
doubt you can be useful if you like, though we
have managed to find one of the secrets without
you. It happens to be the only one we wanted
to know.'

* No,' answered Toto. ' There are two others.
You do not know how I got in, and you do not
know how to manage the " lost water."

* That is true,' said Malipieri. * But if I let
you out you may do me harm, by talking before
it is time. The government is not to know of
this discovery until I am ready.'

* The government ! ' exclaimed Toto con-
temptuously, from his hiding-place. * May an
apoplexy seize it ! Do you take me for a spy ?
I am a Christian.'

* I begin to think he is, Sir,' put in Masin,
knocking the ash from his pipe.

1 70 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

* I think so too,' said Malipieri. ' Throw
away that iron, Masin. He shall show himself, at
all events, and if we like his face we can talk to
him here.'

Masin dropped the drill with a clang. Toto's
hairy hand appeared, grasping the golden wrist of
the statue, as he raised himself to approach the
hole.

' He is a mason, as he says,' said Masin, catch-
ing sight of the rough fingers.

* Did you take me for a coachman ? ' enquired
Toto, thrusting his shaggy head forward cautiously,
and looking up through the aperture.

* Before you come up here,' Malipieri answered,
* tell me how you got in ? '

* You seem to know so much about the over-
flow shaft that I should think you might have
guessed. If you do not believe that I came that
way, look at my clothes ! '

He now crawled upon the body of the statue,
and Malipieri saw that he was covered with half-
dried mud and ooze.

' You got through some old drain, I suppose,
and found your way up.'

' It seems so,' answered Toto, shaking his
shoulders, as if he were stiff.

' Are you going to let him go free, Sir ? ' asked
Masin, standing ready. ' If you do, he will be
down the shaft, before you can catch him. These
men know their way underground like moles.'

' Moles, yourselves ! ' answered Toto in a
growl, putting his head up above the level of the
vault.

x THE HEART OF ROME 171

Masin measured him with his eye, and saw that
he was a strong man, probably much more active
than he looked in his heavy, mud-plastered clothes.

* Get up here,' said Malipieri.

Toto obeyed, and in a moment he sat on the
edge of the hole, his legs dangling down into it.

' Not so bad,' he said, settling himself with a
grunt of satisfaction.

* I like you, Master Toto,' said Malipieri.
' You might have thought that we really meant to
kill you, but you did not seem much frightened.'

'There is no woman in the affair,' answered
Toto. * Why should you kill me ? And I can
help you.'

* How am I to know that you will ? ' asked
Malipieri.

' I am a man of honour,' Toto replied, turning
his stony face to the light of the lanterns.

' I have not a doubt of it, my friend,' returned
Malipieri, without conviction. 'Just now, the
only help I need of you, is that you should hold
your tongue. How can I be sure that you will
do that ? Does any one else know the way in
through the drain ? '

' No. I only found it to-night. If there is a
day's rain in the mountains and the Tiber rises
even a little, nobody can pass through it. The
lower part is barely above the level of the river
now.'

' How did you guess that you could get here
by that way ? '

' We know many secrets in our trade, from
father to son,' answered Toto gruffly.

1 72 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

* You must have lifted the boards, with the
stones on them, to get out of the shaft. Why did
you put them back in their place ? '

' You seem to think I am a fool ! I did not
mean to let you know that I had been here, so I
put them back, of course. I supposed that I could
get out through the cellars, but you have put a
padlock on the inner door.'

* Is there any way of turning water into that
shaft ? '

* Only by filling the well, I think. If the
Tiber rises, the water will back up the shaft
through the drain. That is why the ancients who
built the well made another way for the water to
run off. When the river is swollen in a flood it
must be much higher in the shaft than the bottom
of the well, and if the " lost water " were running
in all the time, the air would probably make it
back, so that the shaft would be useless and the
well would be soiled with the river water.'

* You evidently know your trade, Master Toto,'
said Masin, with some admiration for his fellow-
craftsman's clear understanding.

' You know yours,' retorted Toto, who was
seldom at a loss, * for just now you talked of
killing like a professional assassin.'

This pleasing banter delighted Masin, who
laughed heartily, and patted Toto on the back.

* We shall be good friends,' he said.

* In this world one never knows/ Toto answered
philosophically. ' What are you going to do ? '

'You must come back with us to my apart-
ment,' said Malipieri, who had been considering

x THE HEART OF ROME 173

the matter. « You must stay there a couple of
days, without going out. I will pay you for your
time, and give you a handsome present, and plenty
to eat and drink. After that you will be free to
go where you please and say what you like, for
the secret will be out.'

* Thank you,' answered Toto without enthusi-
asm. 'Are you going to tell the government
about the treasure ? '

' The Senator will certainly inform the govern-
ment, which has a right to buy it.'

To this Toto said nothing, but he lifted his
legs out of the hole and stood up, ready to go.
Malipieri and Masin took up their lanterns.

CHAPTER XI

MASIN led the way back, Toto followed and
Malipieri went last, so that the mason was between
his two captors. They did not quite trust him,
and Masin was careful not to walk too fast where
the way was so familiar to him, while Malipieri
was equally careful not to lag behind. In this
order they reached the mouth of the overflow
shaft, covered with the loaded boards. Masin
bent down and examined them, for he wished to
convince himself that the stones had been moved
since he had himself placed them there. A glance
showed that this was the case, and he was about
to go on, when he bent down again suddenly and
listened, holding up his hand.

' There is water,' he said, and began to lift off
the stones, one by one.

Toto helped him quickly. There were only
three or four, and they were not heavy. When
the mouth of the shaft was uncovered all three
knelt down and listened, instinctively lowering
their lanterns into the blackness below. The
shaft was not wider than a good sized old-
fashioned chimney, like those in Roman palaces, up
and down which sweeps can just manage to climb.

CHAP. x. THE HEART OF ROME 175

The three men listened, and distinctly heard the
steady falling of a small stream of water upon the
stones at the bottom.

' It is raining,' Toto said confidently, but he
was evidently as much surprised by the sound as
the others. ' There must be some communication
with the gutters in the courtyard,' he added.

* There is probably a thunderstorm,' answered
Malipieri. 'We can hear nothing down here.'

* If I had gone down again, I should have been
drowned,' Toto said, shaking his head. ' Do you
hear ? Half the water from the courtyard must
be running down there ! '

The sound of the falling stream increased to a
hollow roar.

* Do you think the water can rise in the shaft ? '
asked Malipieri.

* Not unless the river rises and backs into it,'
replied Toto. c The drain is large below.'

1 That cannot be " lost water," can it ? "

' No. That is impossible.'

' Put the boards in their place again,' Malipieri
said. ' It is growing late.'

It was done in a few moments, but now the
dismal roar of the water came up very distinctly
through the covering. Malipieri had been in many
excavations, and in mines, too, but did not remember
that he had ever felt so strongly the vague sense
of apprehension that filled him now. There is
something especially gloomy and mysterious about
the noise of unexplained water heard at a great
depth under the earth and coming out of darkness.
Even the rough men with him felt that.

176 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

* It is bad to hear,' observed Masin, putting one
more stone upon the boards, as if the weight could
keep the sound down.

* You may say that ! ' answered Toto. c And
in this tomb, too ! '

They went on, in the same order as before.
The passage to the dry well had been so much
enlarged that by bending down they could walk to
the top of the rope ladder. Malipieri went down
first, with his lantern. Toto followed, and while
Masin was descending, stood looking at the bones
of the dead mason, and at the skull that grinned
horribly in the uncertain yellow glare.

He took a half-burnt candle from his pocket,
and some sulphur matches, and made a light for
himself, with which he carefully examined the
bones. Malipieri watched him.

* The man who was drowned over sixty years
ago,' said the architect.

'This,' answered Toto, with more feeling
than accuracy, * is the blessed soul of my grand-
father.'

' He shall have Christian burial in a few days,'
Malipieri said gravely.

Toto shrugged his shoulders, not irreverently,
but as if to say that when a dead man has been
without Christian burial sixty years, it cannot
make any difference whether he gets it after all
or not.

' The crowbar is still good,' Toto said, stooping
down to disengage it from the skeleton's grasp.

But Malipieri laid a hand on his shoulder, for
it occurred to him that the mason, armed with

XI THE HEART OF ROME 177

an iron bar, might be a dangerous adversary if he
tried to escape.

' You do not need that just now,' said the
architect.

Toto glanced at Malipieri furtively and saw
that he was understood. He stood upright, affect-
ing indifference. They went on, through the
breach to which the slit had been widened. Toto
moved slowly, and held his candle down to the
running water in the channel.

* There is plenty of it,' he observed.

* Where does it come from ? ' asked Malipieri,
suddenly, in the hope of an unguarded answer.

4 From heaven,' answered Toto, without hesita-
tion ; ' and everything that falls from heaven is
good,' he added, quoting an ancient proverb.

* What would happen if we closed the entrance,
so that it could not get in at all ? '

' The book of wisdom,' Toto replied, ' is buried
under Pasquino. How should I know what would
happen ? '

'You know a good many things, my friend.'

Malipieri understood that the man would not
say more, and led the way out.

'Good-bye, grandpapa,' growled Toto, waving
his hairy hand towards the well. ' Who knows
whether \ve shall meet again ? '

They went on, and in due time emerged into
the upper air. It was raining heavily, as Toto
had guessed, and before they had reached the other
end of the courtyard they were drenched. But it
was a relief to be out of doors, and Malipieri
breathed the fresh air with keen delight, as a

N

i78 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

thirsty man drinks. The rain poured down
steadily and ran in rivers along the paved gutters,
and roared into the openings that carried it off.
Malipieri could not help thinking how it must be
roaring now, far down at the bottom of the old
shaft, led thither through deep-buried and long-
forgotten channels.

Upstairs, Masin was inclined to be friendly
with his fellow-craftsman, and gave him dry clothes
to sleep in, and bread and cheese and wine in his
own room. In spite of his experiences, Masin
had never known how to be suspicious. But as
Malipieri looked once more at the man's stony
face and indistinguishable eyes, he thought differ-
ently of his prisoner. He locked the outer door
and took the key of the patent lock with him
when he went to bed at last.

It does not often rain heavily in Rome, late in
the spring, for any long time, but when Malipieri
looked out the next morning, it was still pouring
steadily, and the sky over the courtyard was uni-
formly grey. It is apparently a law of nature
that exceptions should come when least wanted.

In spite of the weather Malipieri went out,
however, and did not even send for a cab. The
porter was in a particularly bad humour and eyed
him distrustfully, for he had been put to the
trouble of cleaning the stairs where the three men
had left plentiful mud in their track during the
night. Malipieri nodded to the old man as usual,
and was about to go out, but turned back and
gave him five francs. Thus mollified the porter
at once made a remark about the atrocious

THE HEART OF ROME 179

weather and proceeded to ask how the work was
progressing.

* I have explored a good deal,' answered Mali-
pieri. * The Senator is coming to-morrow, and
you had better sweep carefully. He looks at
everything, you know.'

He went out into the pouring rain, keeping a
sharp lookout from under the edge of the umbrella
he held low over his head. He had grown
cautious of late. As he expected, he came upon
one of the respectable men he now met so often,
before he had turned into the Piazza Agonale.
The respectable man was also carrying his umbrella
low, and looking about him as he walked along at
a leisurely pace. Malipieri hailed a cab.

Even in wet weather there are no closed cabs
in that part of Rome. One is protected from the
wet, more or less, by the hood and by a high leathern
apron which is hooked to it inside. The cabman,
seated under a huge standing umbrella, bends
over and unhooks it on one side for you to get in
and out.

Malipieri employed the usual means of eluding
pursuit. He gave an address and told the man to
drive fast, got out quickly on reaching the house,
enquired for an imaginary person with a foreign
name, who, he was of course told, did not live
there, got in again and had himself driven to
Sassi's door, sure of losing his pursuer, if the
detective followed him in another cab. Then he
paid the man two fares, to save time, and went in.
He had never taken the trouble to do such a
thing since his political adventures, but he was now

180 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

very anxious not to let it be known that he had
any dealings with the former agent of the Conti
family.

The matter was settled easily enough and to
his satisfaction. Old Sassi worshipped Sabina, and
was already fully persuaded that whatever could
be found under the palace should belong to her, as
also that she had a right to see what was dis-
covered before Volterra did, and before anything
was moved. He was at least as Quixotic in his
crabbed fashion as Malipieri himself ; and besides,
he really could not see that there was the least
harm or danger in the scheme. It certainly would
have been improper for Malipieri to go and fetch
the young lady himself, but it was absurd to sup-
pose that a man over sixty could be blamed for
accompanying a girl of eighteen on a visit to her
old home, in her own interest, especially when the
man had been all his life employed by her family
in a position of trust and confidence. Finally,
Sassi hated Volterra with all his heart, as the faith-
ful adherents of ruined gentlefolks often hate those
who have profited by their ruin.

Sassi, as an old Roman, predicted that the
weather would improve in the afternoon. Mali-
pieri advised him nevertheless to keep the hood of
his cab raised when he brought Sabina to the
palace. To this Sassi answered that he should of
course get a closed carriage from a livery stable,
and an argument followed which took some time.
In the opinion of the excellent old agent, it would
be almost an affront to fetch the very noble Donna
Sabina in a vehicle so plebeian as a cab, and it was

XI THE HEART OF ROME 181

with the greatest difficulty that Malipieri made
him understand that a cab was much safer on such
an occasion.

What was important was that the weather
should be fine, for otherwise the Baroness might
not go out, and the whole scheme would fail. In
that case, it must be arranged for the following
day, and Malipieri would find an excuse for putting
off Volterra's visit.

He left the house on foot. So far, he had not
allowed himself to think too much of the future,
and had found little time for such reflexion. He
was a man who put all his energy into what he
was doing, and was inclined to let consequences
take care of themselves rather than waste thought
in providing for them. He believed he was doing
what was just and honourable, and if there was a
spice of adventure and romance in it, that only
made it the more easy to do. The only danger he
could think of was that Sabina might slip in one
of the difficult passages and hurt her foot a little,
or might catch cold in the damp vaults. Nothing
else could happen.

He congratulated himself on having got Toto
in his power, since Toto was the only man who
understood the ways of the Most water.' If he
had before suspected that there was any one at
large in Rome who knew as much he would have
hesitated. But he had made the discovery of the
man and had taken him prisoner at the same
moment, and all danger in that quarter seemed to
be removed.

As for the material difficulty, he and Masin

1 82 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

could smooth the way very much in two or three
hours, and could substitute a solid wooden ladder
for the one of rope in the well. Sabina was
young, slight, and probably active, and with a
little help she would have no difficulty in reaching
the inner chamber. It might be well to cover
the skeletons. Young girls were supposed to be
sensitive about such things, and Malipieri had no
experience of their ways. Nevertheless he had an
inward conviction that Sabina would not go into
hysterics at the sight.

Old Sassi might not be able to get up the
ladder, but once beyond the reach of social
observation, he would trust Sabina to Malipieri
and Masin for a quarter of an hour, and he could
wait in the outer cellar. Malipieri had prepared
him for this, and he had made no objection, only
saying that he should like to see the treasure
himself if it could possibly be managed. In his
heart, Malipieri hoped that it would prove too
much for the old man and that he might have
the pleasure of showing Sabina what he had found
without having the old agent at his elbow. Toto
would be locked in, upstairs, for the day. He
could not get out by the door, and he would
not risk breaking his legs by jumping from the
window. The intermediate story of the Palazzo
Conti was far too high for that.

Malipieri calculated that if Sassi were punctual,
Sabina would be at the door of the palace at a
quarter-past five. At five minutes past, he came
down, and sent the porter on an errand which
would occupy at least half an hour even if

xi THE HEART OF ROME 183

executed with despatch. Masin would keep the
door, he said. The old man was delighted to
have an excuse for going out, and promised
himself to spend a comfortable hour in a wine-
shop if he could find a friend. His wife, as there
was so little to do, had found some employment in
a laundry to which she went in the morning and
which kept her out all day. No one would see
Sabina and Sassi enter, and if it seemed advisable
they could be got out in the same way. No one
but Masin and Malipieri himself need ever know
that they had been in the palace that afternoon.

It was all very well prepared, by a man well
accustomed to emergencies, and it was not easy
to see how anything could go wrong. Even
allowing more time than was necessary, Sabina's
visit to the vaults could not possibly occupy much
more than an hour.

CHAPTER XII

MALIPIERI was beginning to realize that his work
in the vaults had been watched with much more
interest than he had supposed possible, and that
in. some way or other news of his progress had
reached various quarters. In the first place, his
reputation was much wider than he knew, and
many scholars and archaeologists throughout
Europe had been profoundly impressed both by
what he had discovered and by the learning he
had shown in discussing his discoveries. It
followed that many were curious to see what he
would do next, and there were paragraphs about him
in grave reviews, and flattering references to him
in speeches made at learned conventions. He had
friends whose names he had never heard, and
enemies, too, ready to attack him on the one side
and to defend him on the other. Some praised
his modesty, and others called it affectation. His
experience of the wider world was short, so far,
and he did not understand that it had taken
people a year to appreciate his success. He had
hoped for immediate recognition of his great
services to archaeology, and had been somewhat
disappointed because that recognition had not been

184

CHAP, xu THE HEART OF ROME 185

instantaneous. Like most men of superior talent,
in the same situation, when praise came in due
time and abundantly, he did not care for it because
he was already interested in new work. To the
m.m of genius the past is always insignificant as
compared with the future. When Goethe, dying,
asked for ' more light,' he may or may not have
merely meant that he wished the window opened
because the room seemed dark to his failing eyes ;
the higher interpretation which has been put upon
his last words remains the true one, in the spirit,
if not in the letter. He died, as he had lived, the
man of genius looking forward, not backward, to
the last, crying for light, more light, thinking not
of dying and ending, of living, hoping, doing,
winning.

Besides the general body of students and
archaeologists, the Italian government was exceed-
ingly interested in Malipieri's explorations. The
government is rightly jealous in such matters, and
does its very best to keep all artistic objects of real
value in the country. It is right that this should
be so. The law relating to the matter was framed
by Cardinal Pacca, under the papal administration
many years ago, and the modern rulers have had
the intelligence to maintain it and enforce it. Like
other laws it is frequently broken. In this it re-
sembles the Ten Commandments and most other
rules framed by divine or human intelligence for the
good of mankind and the advancement of civiliza-
tion. The most sanguine lovers of their fellow-men
have always admitted the existence of a certain
number of flagitious persons who obstinately object

1 86 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

to being good. David, who was hasty, included
a large proportion of humanity amongst ' the
wicked ' ; Monsieur Drumont limited the number
to David's descendants ; and Professor Lombroso,
whatever he may really mean, conveys the im-
pression that men of genius, criminals and lunatics
are different manifestations of the same thing ; as
diamonds, charcoal and ham fat are all carbon and
nothing else. We should be thankful for the
small favours of providence in excepting us from
the gifted minority of madmen, murderers and
poets and making us just plain human beings, like
other people.

There is no international law forbidding a man
from making digressions when he is telling a story.

Malipieri was watched by the government, as
Volterra had told him, because it was feared in
high quarters that if he found anything of value
under the palace, he would try to get it out of the
country. He had always hated the government
and had got himself into trouble by attacking the
monarchy. Besides, it was known in high quarters
that Senator Baron Volterra held singular views
about the authenticity of works of art. It would
be inconvenient to have a scandal in the Senate
about the Velasquez and the other pictures ; on
the other hand, if anything more of the same sort
should happen, it would be very convenient indeed
to catch a pair of culprits in the shape of Malipieri,
a pardoned political offender, and his ex-convict
servant.

Then, too, in quite another direction, the
Vatican was very anxious to buy any really good

xii THE HEART OF ROME 187

work of art which might be discovered, and would
pay quite as much for it as government itself.
Therefore the Vatican was profoundly interested
in Malipieri on its own account.

As if this were not enough, Sabina's brother,
the ruined Prince Conti, had got wind of the
excavations and scented some possible advantage
to himself, with the vague chance of more money
to throw away on automobiles, at Monte Carlo,
and in the company of a cosmopolitan young
person of semi-Oriental extraction whose varied
accomplishments had made her the talk of Europe.

Lastly, the Russian embassy was on the alert,
for the dowager Princess had heard from her maid,
who had heard it from her sister in Rome, who
had learned it from the washerwoman, who had
been told the secret by the porter's wife, that the
celebrated Malipieri was exploring the north-west
foundations of the palace. The Princess had re-
peated the story, and the legend which accounted
for it, to her brother Prince Rubomirsky, who was
a very great personage in his own country. And
the Prince, though good-natured, foresaw that he
might in time grow tired of giving his sister un-
limited money ; and it occurred to him that some-
thing might turn up under the palace, after all, to
which she might have some claim. So he had used
his influence in Saint Petersburg with the Minister
of Foreign Affairs, and the latter had instructed
the Russian Ambassador in Rome to find out what
he could about the excavations, without attracting
attention ; and Russian diplomatists have ways of
finding out things without attracting attention,

1 88 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

which are extremely great and wonderful. Also
if Russia puts her paw upon anything and declares
that it is the property of a Russian subject, it often
happens that smaller people take their paws away
hastily.

It follows that there must have been a good
deal of quiet talk, in Rome, not overheard in
society, about what Malipieri was doing in the
Palazzo Conti, but as the people who occupied
themselves with his affairs were particularly anxious
that he should not know what they said, he was in
ignorance of it. But Volterra was not. He had
valuable friends, because his influence was of value,
and he was informed of much that was going on.
If he was anxious to get rid of the architect, it was
not so much because he wanted for himself the
whole price which the statue or statues might
bring, as because he feared lest the government
should suddenly descend upon Malipieri and make
an enquiry which would involve also the question
of the pictures. So far, Volterra had created the
impression that the young man had been concerned
with a dealer in smuggling them out of the
country ; but in case of an investigation it could
easily be proved that they were gone before Mali-
pieri had arrived in Rome, in answer to Volterra's
invitation. Besides, the Senator had discovered
that the young archaeologist was much more cele-
brated than was convenient. In private affairs
there is nothing so tiresome and inconvenient as
the presence of a celebrity. Burglars, when
exercising their professional functions, are not
accompanied by a brass band.

xii THE HEART OF ROME 189

Toto was very docile and quiet all that day.
Masin thought him philosophical, and continued to
like him, after his fashion, providing him with a
plentiful supply of tobacco, a good meal at noon,
and a bottle of wine. The man's stony face was
almost placid. At rare intervals he made a remark.
After eating he looked out of the window and
said rather regretfully that he thought the rain was
over for the day.

Masin took this to mean that he wished he
might go out, and offered him more wine by
way of consolation. But Toto refused. He was
a moderate man. Then he asked Masin how
many rooms Malipieri occupied, and learned that
the whole of the little apartment was rented by
the architect. The information did not seem to
interest him much.

In the morning, when Malipieri had come back
from his visit to Sassi, he had given Masin the
keys of the vaults, and had told him to buy a stout
ladder and take it into the dry well. But Toto
said that this was a useless expense.

' There is a strong ladder about the right
length, lying along the wall at the other end of
the west cellar,' he said. * You had better take
that.'

Malipieri looked at him and smiled.

' For a prisoner, you are very obliging,' he
said, and he gave him a five-franc note, which
Toto took with a grunt of thanks.

Masin was gone an hour, during which time
Malipieri busied himself in the next room, leaving
the door open. He went out when Masin came

190 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

back. When the two men were together Toto
produced the five francs.

' Can you change ? ' he enquired.

' Why ? ' asked Masin with some surprise.

' Half is two francs fifty,' answered Toto.
' That is your share.'

Masin laughed and shook his head.

' No,' he said. * What is given to you is not
given to me. Why should I share with you ? '

* It is our custom,' Toto replied. ' Take your
half.'

Masin refused stoutly, but Toto insisted and
grew angry at last. So Masin changed the note
and kept two francs and fifty centimes for him-
self, reflecting that he could give the money back
to Malipieri, since he had no sort of right to it.
Toto was at once pacified.

When Malipieri returned, Masin went out and
got dinner for all three, bringing it as usual in
the three tin cases strapped one above the other.

Toto supposed that he was not to be left alone
in the apartment that day ; but at half-past four
Malipieri entered the room, with a padlock and
a couple of screw eyes in his hand.

* You would not think it worth while to risk
jumping out,' he said in a good-humoured tone.
' But you might take it into your head to open
the window, and the porter might be there, and
you might talk to him. Masin and I shall be out
together for a little while.'

Masin shut the tall window, screwed the stout
little eyebolts into the frame and ran the bolt
of the padlock through both. He gave the

xii THE HEART OF ROME 191

key to Malipieri. Toto watched the operation
indifferently.

* If you please,' he said, ' I am accustomed to
have a little wine about half-past five every day.
I will pay for it.'

He held out half a franc to Masin and nodded.

* Nonsense ! ' interposed Malipieri, laughing.
' You are my guest, Master Toto.' Masin brought
a bottle and a glass, and a couple of cigars.

* Thank you, sir,' said Toto politely. ' I shall
be very comfortable till you come back.'

' You will find the time quite as profitable as if
you were working,' said Malipieri.

He nodded and went out followed by Masin,
and Toto heard the key turned twice in the solid
old lock. The door was strong, and they would
probably lock the front door of the apartment
too. Toto listened quietly till he heard it shut
after them in the distance. Then he rose and
flattened his face against the window pane.

He waited some time. He could see one half
of the great arched entrance, but the projecting
stone jamb of the window hindered him from
seeing more. It was very quiet, and he could
hear footsteps below, on the gravel of the court-
yard, if any one passed.

At the end of ten minutes he heard a man's
heavy tread, and knew that it was Masin 's.
Masin must have come out of the great archway
on the side of it which Toto could not see. The
steps went on steadily along the gravel. Masin
was going to the vaults.

Toto waited ten minutes, and began to think

1 92 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

that no one else was coming, and that Malipieri
had left the palace, though he had been convinced
that the architect and his man meant to go down
to the vaults together. Just as he was beginning
to give up the idea, he saw Sassi under the arch-
way, in a tall hat, a black coat and gloves, and
Malipieri was just visible for a moment as he came
out too. He was unmistakably speaking to some
one on his right, who was hidden from Toto's view
by the projecting stonework. His manner was
also distinctly deferential. The third person was
probably Baron Volterra.

The footsteps took a longer time to reach the
other end of the court than Masin had occupied.
After all was silent Toto listened breathlessly for
five minutes more. There was not a sound.

He looked about him, then took up a chair,
thrust one of the legs between the bolt and the
body of the padlock and quietly applied his
strength. The wood of the frames was old, and
the heavy strain drew the screw eyes straight out.

Toto opened the window noiselessly and looked
out with caution. No one was in sight. By this
time the three were in the vaults, with Masin.

Toto knew every inch of the palace by heart,
inside and out, and he knew that one of the cast-
iron leaders that carried the rain from the roof to
the ground was within reach of that particular
window, on the left side. He looked out once
more, up and down the courtyard, and then, in an
instant, he was kneeling on the stone sill, he had
grasped the iron leader with one hand, then with
the other, swinging himself to it and clutching it

XII

THE HEART OF ROME 193

below with his rough boots. A few moments later
he was on the ground, running for the great
entrance. No one was there, no one saw him.

He let himself out quietly, shut the postern
door after him, and slouched away towards the
Vicolo dei Soldati.

CHAPTER XIII

SABINA had the delightful sensation of doing some-
thing she ought not to do, but which was perfectly
innocent ; she had moreover the rarer pleasure,
quite new to her, of committing the little social
misdeed in the company of the first man she had
ever liked in her life. She knew very well that
old Sassi would not be able to reach the inner
chamber of the excavation, and she inwardly hoped
that Malipieri's servant would discreetly wait out-
side of it, so that she might be alone with Malipieri
when she first set eyes on the wonderful statue.
It was amusing to think how the nuns would have
scolded her for the mere wish, and how her pious
sister would have condemned her to eternal flames
for entertaining the temptation.

Malipieri had told her to put on an old frock,
as she might spoil her clothes in spite of the efforts
he had made to enlarge and smooth the way for
her to pass. Her mother had a way of calling
everything old which she had possessed three
months, and for once Sabina was of her mother's
opinion. She had a very smart cloth costume,
with a rather short skirt, which had come home
in February, and which she had worn only four

194

CHAP. XIII

THE HEART OF ROME 195

times because the spring had been warm. It was
undoubtedly 'old,' for she could not wear it in
summer, and next winter the fashion would change ;
and it had rained all the morning, so that the air
was damp and cold. Besides, the costume fitted
her slender figure to perfection — it was such a pity
that it was old already, for she might never have
another as smart. The least she could do was to
try and wear it out when she had the chance. It
was of a delicate fawn colour ; it had no pocket
and it was fastened in a mysterious way. The
skirt was particularly successful, and, as has been
said, it was short, which was a great advantage in
scrambling about a damp cellar. In order to show
that she was in earnest, she put on russet leather
shoes. Her hat was large, because that was the
fashion, but nothing could have been simpler ; it
matched the frock in colour, and no colour was
so becoming to her clear girlish pallor and misty
hair as light fawn.

Malipieri had carried out his intention of getting
rid of the porter, and was waiting inside the open
postern when the cab drove up. Hitherto he had
only seen Sabina indoors, at luncheon and in the
evening, and when he saw her now he received an
altogether new impression. Somehow, in her walk-
ing dress, she seemed more womanly, more ' grown
up ' as she herself would have called it. As she
got out of the wretched little cab, and came for-
ward to greet him, her grace stirred his blood. It
was final ; he was in love.

Her intuition told her the truth, of course.
There was something in his look and voice which

196 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

had not quite been in either on the previous even-
ing. He had been glad, last night, because she
had come to the drawing-room, as he had hoped
that she would ; but to-day he was more than
glad, he was happy, merely because he saw her.
There never was a woman yet that could not tell
that difference at a glance.

She was proud of being loved by him, and as
he walked by her side, she looked up at the blue
sky above the courtyard, and was glad that the
clouds had passed away, for it must be sweeter to
be loved when there was sunshine overhead than
when it rained ; but all the time, she saw his face,
without looking at it, and it was after her own
heart, and much to her liking. Besides, he was
not only a manly man, and strong, and, of course,
brave ; he was already famous, and might be great
some day ; and she knew that he loved her, which
was much to his advantage. As for being madly,
wildly, desperately in love with him herself, she
was not that yet ; it was simply a very delicious
sensation of being adored by somebody very sym-
pathetic. Some women never get nearer to love
than that, in all their lives, and are quite satisfied,
and as they grow older they realize how much
more convenient it is to be adored than to adore,
and are careful to keep their likings within very
manageable limits, while encouraging the men who
love them to behave like lunatics.

Sabina was not of that kind ; she was only
very young, which, as Pitt pointed out, is a disad-
vantage but not a real crime.

They walked side by side, almost touching as

xiii THE HEART OF ROME 197

they moved ; they were drawn one to another, as
all nature draws together those pairs of helpless
atoms that are destined to one end.

Old Sassi went gravely with them. To him, it
was a sad thing to see Sabina come to the palace
in a way almost clandestine, as if she had no right
there, and he shook his head again and again,
silently grieving over the departed glory of the
Conti, and wishing that he could express his sym-
pathy to the young girl in dignified yet tender
language. But Sabina was not in need of sympathy
just then. Life in the Volterra establishment had
been distinctly more bearable since Malipieri's
appearance on the scene, and her old existence in
the palace had been almost as really gloomy as it
now seemed to her to have been. Moreover, she
was intensely interested in what Malipieri was
going to show her.

Masin was waiting at the head of the winding
stair with lanterns already lighted. When they
had all entered, he turned the key. Sassi asked
why he did this, and as they began to go down
Malipieri explained that it was a measure of safety
against the old porter's curiosity.

Sabina stepped carefully on the damp steps,
while Malipieri held his lantern very low so that
she could see them.

' I am sure-footed,' she said, with a little laugh.

* This is the easiest part,' he answered. ' There
are places where you will have to be careful.'

' Then you will help me.'

She thought it would be pleasant to rest her
hand on his arm, where the way was not easy, and

i98 THE HEART OF ROME

she knew instinctively that he hoped she would
do so. They reached the floor of the cellar, and
Masin walked in front, lighting the way. Sassi
looked about him ; he had been in the cellars two
or three times before.

* They did not get in by this way when the first
attempt was made,' he said.

' No,' answered Malipieri. ' I cannot find out
how they made an entrance.'

* There used to be a story of an oubliette that
was supposed to be somewhere in the house,' said
Sabina.

' I have found it. You will see it in a moment,
for we have to pass through the bottom of it.'

* How amusing ! I never saw one.'

They came to the first breach in the cellar wall.
A small lamp had been placed on a stone in a
position to illuminate the entrance and was burning
brightly. Masin had lighted two others, further
on, and had covered the bones in the dry well with
pieces of sacking. Malipieri went up the cause-
way first. At first he held out his hand to Sabina,
but she shook her head and smiled. There would
be no satisfaction in being helped over an easy
place ; she should like him to help her where it
would need some strength and skill to do so. She
drew her skirt round her and walked up unaided,
and followed by Sassi, leaning on his stick with one
hand and on Masin with the other.

The descent into the first chamber was less
easy. Standing at the top, Sabina looked down
at Malipieri who held his lantern to her feet. She
felt a delicious little uneasiness now, and listened

xui THE HEART OF ROME 199

to the ghostly gurgle from the channel in the
dark.

1 What is that ? ' she asked, and her voice was
a little awed by the darkness and strangeness of
the place.

* The " lost water." It runs through here.'
She listened a moment longer, and began to

descend, placing her feet on the stones upon which
Malipieri laid his hand, one after another, to show
her the way.

* Perhaps you might help me a little here,' she
said.

' If you will let me put your feet on the right
step, it will be easier,' he answered.

' Yes. Do that, please. Show me the place
first.'

4 There. Do you see ? Now ! '

He laid his hand firmly upon her small russet
shoe, guided the little foot to a safe position and
steadied it there a moment.

* So,' he said. « Now the next. There are
only four or five more.'

She was rather sorry that there were so few,
for they seemed delightfully safe, or just dangerous
enough to be amusing ; she was not quite sure
which. Women never analyse the present, unless
it is utterly dull.

At the bottom of the descent, both looked up,
and saw at a glance that poor old Sassi could never
get down, even with assistance. He seemed un-
able to put his foot down without slipping, in spite
of Masin's help.

* I think you had better not try it,' said

200 THE HEART OF ROME

Malipieri quietly. ' In a few days I am sure that
the Senator will have a way broken through from
above, and then it will be easy enough.'

' Yes,' answered the old man regretfully. ' I
will go back again to the other side and wait for
you.'

' I am so sorry,' said Sabina untruthfully, but
looking up with sympathy.

' Take Signer Sassi back to the cellar,'
said Malipieri to Masin. ' Then you can
follow us.'

Sassi and Masin disappeared through the breach.
Malipieri led the way into the dry well, where
there was another light. In her haste to reach
the end, Sabina did not even glance at the sacking
that covered the skeletons.

' Can you climb a ladder ? ' asked Malipieri.

' Of course ! ' Such a question was almost a
slight.

Malipieri went up nimbly with his lantern, and
knelt on the masonry to hold the top of the ladder.
Sabina mounted almost as quickly as he had done,
till she reached the last few steps and could no
longer hold by the uprights. Then she put out
her hands ; he grasped them both and slid back-
wards on his knees as she landed safely on the
edge. She had not felt that she could possibly
fall, even if her feet slipped, and she now knew
that he was strong, and that it was good to lean
on him.

* You will have to stoop very low for a few
steps,' he said, taking up his lantern, and he kept
his hold on one of her hands as he led her on.

XIII

THE HEART OI ROME 201

' It is not far, now,' he added encouragingly, ' and
the rest is easy.'

He guided her past the boards and stones that
covered the overflow shaft, and down the inclined
passage and the steps to the space between the vaults.
A third lamp was burning here, close to the hole
beneath which the statue lay. Malipieri lowered his
lantern for her to see it.

She uttered an exclamation of surprise and
delight. The pure gold that covered the bronze
was as bright as if it had not lain in the vault for
many centuries, twelve, fourteen, fifteen, no one
could tell yet. The light fell into the huge ruby
as into a tiny cup of wine.

* Can one get down ? ' asked Sabina breathlessly,
after a moment's silence.

' Certainly. I have not gone down myself yet,
but it is easy. I wanted you to be the first to see
it all. You will have to sit on the edge and step
upon the wrist of the statue.'

Sabina gathered her skirt neatly round her and
with a little help she seated herself as he directed.

' Are you sure it will not hurt it, to step on
it ? ' she asked, looking up.

* Quite sure.' Malipieri smiled, as he thought
of Toto's hobnailed shoes. 'When you are
standing firmly, I will get down too, if there is
room.'

'It is not a very big hole,' observed Sabina,
letting herself down till her feet rested on the
smooth surface. She did not quite wish to be as
near him as that ; at least, not yet.

4 1 will creep down over the arm,' she said,

202 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

1 and then you can follow me. I hope there are
no beasts,' she added. ' I hate spiders.'

Malipieri lowered his lantern beside her, and
she crept along towards the statue's head. In a
few moments he was beside her, bringing both the
lantern and the lamp with him. They had both
forgotten Masin's existence, as he had not yet
appeared. Sabina looked about for spiders, but
there were none in sight. The vault was perfectly
dry, and there was hardly any dust clinging to
the rough mortar that covered the stones. It was
clear that the framework must have been carefully
removed, and the place thoroughly cleaned, before
the statue had been drawn into the vault from one
end.

' He is perfectly hideous,' said Sabina, as they
reached the huge face. ' But it is magnificent,'
she added, passing her gloved hand over the great
golden features. ' I wonder who it is meant
for.'

' A Roman emperor, as Hercules, I think,'
Malipieri answered. ' It may be Commodus. We
are so near that it is hard to know how the head
would look if the statue were set up.'

He was thinking very little of the statue just
then, as he knelt on its colossal chest beside Sabina,
and watched the play of the yellow light on her
delicate face. There was just room for them to
kneel there, side by side.

It was magnificent, as Sabina had said, the
great glittering thing, lying all alone in the
depths of the earth, an enormous golden demi-
god in his tomb.

xi,, THE HEART OF ROME 203

< You are wonderful ! ' exclaimed Sabina, suddenly
turning her face to Malipieri.

'Why?'

' To have found it,' she explained.

« I wish I had found something more practical,'
he answered. * In my opinion this thing belongs
to you, and I suppose it represents a small fortune.
But the only way for you to get even a share of it
will be by bringing a suit against Volterra. Half
a dozen rubies like the one in the ring would have
been enough for you, and you could have taken
them home with you in your pocket.'

' 1 am afraid I have none ! ' Sabina laughed.

'This one will be safe in mine,' Malipieri

answered.

' You are not going to take it ? ' cried Sabina,

a little frightened.

* Yes. I am going to take it for you. I dare-
say it is worth a good deal of money.'

' But — is it yours ? '

'No. It is yours.'

'I wonder whether I have any right to it.'
Sabina was perhaps justly doubtful about the
proceeding.

' I do not care a straw for the government, or
the laws, or Volterra, where you are concerned.
You shall have what is yours. Shall we get down
to the ground and see if there is anything else in
the vault ? '

He let himself slide over the left shoulder, and
the lion's skin that was modelled over it, and
Sabina followed him cautiously. By bending their
heads they could now stand and walk, and there

204 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

was a space fully five feet wide, between the statue
and the perpendicular masonry from which the
vault sprang.

Malipieri stopped short, with both lights in his
hand, and uttered an exclamation.

' What is it ? ' asked Sabina. * Oh ! ' she cried,
as she saw what he had come upon.

For some moments neither spoke, and they
stood side by side, pressed against each other in
the narrow way and gazing down, for before them
lay the most beautiful marble statue Sabina had
ever seen. In the yellow light it was like a living
woman asleep rather than a marble goddess, hewn
and chipped, smoothed and polished into shape
ages ago, by men's hands.

She lay a little turned to one side and away ;
the arm that was undermost was raised, so that
the head seemed to be resting against it, though it
was not ; the other lying along and across the
body, its perfect hand just gathering up a delicately
futile drapery. The figure was whole and un-
broken, of cream-like marble, that made soft
living shadows in each dimple and hollow and
seemed to quiver along the lines of beauty, the
shoulder just edging forwards, the bent arm, the
marvellous sweep of the limbs from hip to heel.

' It is a Venus, is it not ? ' asked Sabina with an
odd little timidity.

' Aphrodite,' answered Malipieri, almost un-
consciously.

It was not the plump, thick-ankled, doubtfully
decent Venus which the late Greeks made for their
Roman masters ; it was not that at all. It was

xin THE HEART OF ROME 205

their own Aphrodite, delicate, tender and deadly as
the foam of the sea whence she came to them.

Sabina would scarcely have wondered if she
had turned, and smiled, there on the ground, to
brush the shadows of ages from her opening eyes,
and to say ' I must have slept,' like a woman
waked by her lover from a dream of kisses.
That would have seemed natural.

Malipieri felt that he was holding his breath.
Sabina was so close to him that it was as if he
could feel her heart beating near his own, and as
fast ; and for a moment he felt one of those strong
impulses which strong men know when to resist,
but to resist which is like wrestling against iron
hands. He longed, as he had never longed for
anything in his life, to draw her yet closer to him
and to press his lips hard upon hers, without a
word.

Instead, he edged away from her, and held
the lights low beside the wonderful statue so that
she might see it better ; and Aphrodite's longing
mouth, that had kissed gods, was curved with a
little scorn for men.

The air was still and dry, and Sabina felt a
strange little thrill in her hair and just at the back
of her neck. Perhaps, in the unknown ways of
fruitful nature, the girl was dimly aware of the
tremendous manly impulse of possession, so near
her in that narrow and silent place. Something
sent a faint blush to her cheek, and she was glad
there was not much light, and she did not wish to
speak for a little while.

'I hate to think that she has lain so long

206 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

beside that gilded Roman monster,' said Malipieri
presently.

The vast brutality of the herculean emperor
had not disgusted him at first ; it had merely dis-
pleased his taste. Now, it became suddenly an
atrocious contrast to the secret loveliness of un-
veiled beauty. That was a manly instinct in him,
too, and Sabina felt it.

* Yes,' she said, softly. ' And she seems almost
alive.'

4 The gods and goddesses live for ever,' Mali-
pieri answered, smiling and looking at her, in
spite of himself.

Her eyes met his at once, and did not turn
away. He fancied that they grew darker in the
shadow, and in the short silence.

* I suppose we ought to be going,' she said,
still looking at him. ' Poor old Sassi is waiting
in the cellar.'

* We have not been all round the vault yet,' he
answered. ' There may be something more.'

* No, she has been alone with the monster, all
these centuries. I am sure of it. There cannot
be anything else.'

' We had better look, nevertheless,' said Mali-
pieri. ' I want you to see everything there is,
and you cannot come here again — not in this
way.'

' Well, let us go round.' Sabina moved.

' Besides,' continued Malipieri, going slowly
forward and lighting the way, ' I am going to leave
the palace the day after to-morrow.'

' Why ? ' asked Sabina, in surprise.

THE HEART OF ROME 207

4 Because Volterra has requested me to go. I
may have to leave Rome altogether.'

* Leave Rome ? '

Her own voice sounded harsh to her as she
spoke the words. She had been so sure that he
was in love with her, she had begun to know that
she would soon love him ; and he was going away
already.

* Perhaps/ he answered, going on. * I am not
sure.'

* But ' Sabina checked herself and bit her

lip.

« What ? '

* Nothing. Go on, please. It must be getting
late.'

There was nothing more in the vault. They
went all round the gilt statue without speaking,
came back to the feet of the Aphrodite from
the further side and stopped to look again. Still
neither spoke for a long time. Malipieri held the
lights in several positions, trying to find the
best.

'Why must you leave Rome?' Sabina asked,
at last, without turning her face to him.

' 1 am not sure that I must. I said I might,
that was all.'

Sabina tapped the ground impatiently with her
foot.

'Why "may" you have to go, then?' she
asked a little sharply.

' Volterra may be able to drive me away. He
will try, because he is afraid I may wish to get a
share in the discovery.'

208 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP, xm

* Oh ! Then you will not leave Rome, unless
you are driven away r '

Malipieri tried to see her eyes, but she looked
steadily down at the statue.

' No,' he said. ' Certainly not.'

Sabina said nothing, but her expression changed
and softened at once. He could see that, even in
the play of the shadows. She raised her head,
glanced at him, and moved to go on. After
making a few steps in the direction of the aperture
she stopped suddenly as if listening. Malipieri
held his breath, and then he heard, too.

It was the unmistakable sound of water
trickling faster and faster over stones. For an
instant his blood stood still. Then he set the
lamp down, grasped Sabina's wrist and hurried her
along, carrying only the lantern.

'Come as fast as you can,' he said, controlling
his voice.

She understood that there was danger and
obeyed without losing her head. As he helped
her up through the hole in the vault, she felt
herself very light in his hands. In a moment he
was beside her, and they were hurrying towards
the inclined passage, bending low.

CHAPTER XIV

A BROAD stream of water was pouring down, and
spreading on each side in the space between the
vaults. In a flash, Malipieri understood. The
dry well had filled, but the overflow shaft was
covered with the weighted boards, and only a
little water could get down through the cracks.
The rest was pouring down the passage, and would
soon fill the vault, which was at a much lower
level.

' Stay here ! Do not move ! '

Sabina stood still, but she trembled a little, as
he dashed up through the swift, shallow stream,
not ankle deep, but steady as fate. In a moment
he had disappeared from her sight, and she was
all alone in the dismal place, in darkness, save for
a little light that forced its way up from below
through the hole. It seemed five minutes before
his plashing footsteps stopped, up there in the
passage ; then came instantly the noise of stones
thrown aside into the water, and of heavy pieces
of board grating and bumping, as they floated for
a moment. Almost instantly a loud roar came
from the same direction, as the inflowing stream
from the well thundered down the shaft. Sabina

209 p

210 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

heard Malipieri's voice calling to her, and his
approaching footsteps.

4 The water cannot reach you now ! ' he cried.

It had already stopped running down the
passage, when Malipieri emerged, dripping and
holding out the lantern in front of him, as his
feet slipped on the wet stones. Sabina was very
pale, but quite quiet.

' What has happened ? ' she asked, mechanically.

' The water has risen suddenly,' he said, paler
than she, for he knew the whole danger. ' We
cannot get out till it goes down.'

' How soon will that be ? ' Sabina asked,
steadily.

' I do not know.'

They looked at each other, and neither spoke
for a moment.

* Do you think it may be several hours ? '
asked Sabina.

1 Yes, perhaps several hours.'

Something in his tone told her that matters
might be worse than that.

' Tell me the truth,' she said. ' It may be
days before the water goes down. We may die
here. Is that what you mean ? '

* Unless I can make another way out, that is
what may happen. We may starve here.'

' You will find the other way out,' Sabina said
quietly. ' I know you will.'

She would rather have died that moment than
have let him think her a coward ; and she was
really brave, and was vaguely conscious that she
was, and that she could trust her nerves, as long

XIV

THE HEART OF ROME 211

as her bodily strength lasted. But it would be
very horrible to die of hunger, and in such a
place. It was better not to think of it. He stood
before her, with his lantern, a pale, courageous,
strong man, whom she could not help trusting ;
he would find that other way.

* You had better get down again,' he said, after
a little reflexion. ' It is dry below, and the lamp
is there.'

* I can help you.'

Malipieri looked at the slight figure and the
little gloved hands and smiled.

* I am very strong,' Sabina said, * much stronger
than you think. Besides, I could not sit all alone
down there while you are groping about. The
water might come down and drown me, you
know.'

' It cannot run down, now. If it could, I
should be drowned first.'

'That would not exactly be a consolation,'
answered Sabina. ' What are you going to do ? I
suppose we cannot break through the roof where
we are, can we ? '

'There must be ten or fifteen feet of earth
above it. We are under the courtyard here.'

Sabina's slight shoulders shuddered a little, for
the first time, as she realized that she was perhaps
buried alive, far beyond the possibility of being
heard by any human being.

'The water must have risen very soon after
we came down,' Malipieri said thoughtfully.
' That is why my man could not get to us. He
could not get into the well.'

212 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

* At all events he is not here/ Sabina answered,
' so it makes no difference where he is.'

' He will try to help us from without. That
is what I am thinking of. The first thing to be
done is to put out that lamp, for we must not
waste light. I had forgotten that.'

Sabina had not thought of it either, and she
waited while he went down again and brought the
lamp up. He extinguished it at once and set it
down.

' Only three ways are possible,' he said, ' and
two are out of the question. We cannot get
up the old shaft above the well. It is of no use
to think of that. We cannot get down the over-
flow and out by the drains because the water is
pouring down there, and besides, the Tiber must
have risen with the rain.'

* Which is the third way ? '

' To break an opening through the wall in the
highest part of the passage. It may take a long
time, for I have no idea how thick the wall may
be, and the passage is narrow. But we must try
it, and perhaps Masin will go to work nearly at
the same spot, for he knows as much about this
place as I do, and we have often talked about it.
I have some tools down here. Will you come.?
We must not waste time.'

* I can hold the lantern,' said Sabina. ' That
may be of some use.'

Malipieri gave her the lantern and took up the
crowbar and pickaxe which lay near the hole in the
vault.

* You will wet your feet, I am afraid,' he said,

xiv THE HEART OF ROME 213

as they went up the passage, and he was obliged
to speak in a louder tone to be heard above the
steady roar of the water.

He had marked the spot where he had expected
that a breach would have to be made to admit
visitors conveniently, and he had no trouble in
finding it. He set the stones he had taken off
the boards in a proper position, laid one of the
wet boards upon them, and then took off his coat
and folded it for a cushion, more or less dry.
He made Sabina sit down with the lantern, though
she protested.

' I cannot work with my coat on,' he answered,
' so you may as well sit on it.'

He set to work, and said no more. The first
thing to be done was to sound the thickness of
the wall, if possible, by making a small hole
through the bricks. If this could be done, and if
Masin was on the other side, a communication
could be established. He knew well enough that
even with help from without, many hours might
be necessary in order to make a way big enough
for Sabina to get out ; it was most important to
make an opening through which food could be
passed in for her. He had to begin by using his
pickaxe because the passage was so narrow that
he could not get his crowbar across it, much less
use it with any effect. It was very slow work at
first, but he did it systematically and with steady
energy.

Sabina watched him in silence for a long time,
vaguely wondering when he would be tired and
would be obliged to stop and rest. Somehow,

2i4 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

it was impossible to feel that the situation was
really horrible, while such a man was toiling
before her eyes to set her free. From the first,
she was perfectly sure that he would succeed, but
she had not at all understood what the actual
labour must be.

He had used his pickaxe for more than half an
hour, and had made a hollow about a foot and a
half deep, when he rested on the shaft of the tool,
and listened attentively. If the wall were not
enormously thick, and if any one were working on
the other side, he was sure that he could hear the
blows, even above the roar of the water. But he
could distinguish no sound.

The water came in steadily from the full well,
a stream filling the passage beyond the dark chasm
into which it was falling, and at least six inches
deep. It sent back the light of the lantern in
broken reflexions and shivered gleams. Sabina
did not like to look that way.

She was cold, now, and she felt that her clothes
were damp, and a strange drowsiness came over
her, brought on by the monotonous tone of the
water. Malipieri had taken up his crowbar.

' I wonder what time it is,' Sabina said, before
he struck the wall again.

He looked at his watch.

' It is six o'clock,' he answered, trying to speak
cheerfully. * It is not at all late yet. Are you
hungry ? '

c Oh, no ! We never dine till eight.'

{ But you are cold ? '

' A little. It is no matter.'

THE HEART OF ROME 215

« If you will get up I will put my waistcoat on
the board for you to sit upon, and then you can
put my coat over your shoulders. I am too hot.

' Thank you.'

She obeyed, and he made her as comfortable as
he could, a forlorn little figure in her fawn-coloured
hat, wrapped in his grey tweed coat, that looked
utterly shapeless on her.

' Courage,' he said, as he picked up his crowbar.

* I am not afraid,' she answered.

* Most women would be.'

He went to work again, with the end of the
heavy bar, striking regularly at the deepest part
of the hollow, and working the iron round and
round, to loosen the brick wherever that was pos-
sible. But he made slow progress, horribly slow,
as Sabina realized when nearly half an hour had
passed again, and he paused to listen. He was
much more alarmed than he would allow her
guess, for he was now quite convinced that Masm
was not working on the other side ; he knew that
his strength would never be equal to breaking
through, unless the crowbar ran suddenly into an
open space beyond, within the next half- hour.
The wall might be of any thickness, perhaps as
much as six or seven feet, and the bricks were
very hard and were well cemented. Perhaps, too,
he had made a mistake in his rough calculations
and was not working at the right spot after all.
He was possibly hammering away at the end of a
cross wall, following it in its length.

That risk had to be taken, however, for
was at least as good a chance of breaking through

216 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

at this point as at any other. He believed that
by resting now and then for a short time, he could
use his tools for sixteen or eighteen hours, after
which, if he were without food, his strength would
begin to give way. There was nothing to be
done but to go on patiently, doing his best not to
waste time, and yet not overtaxing his energy so
as to break down before he had done the utmost
possible.

He would not think of what must come after
that, if he failed, and if the water did not subside.

Sabina understood very imperfectly what had
happened, and there had been no time to explain.
He could not work and yet talk to her so as to
be heard above the roaring of the water and the
noise of the iron bar striking against the bricks.
She knew that, and she expected nothing of him
beyond what he was doing, which was all a man
could do.

She drew his coat closely round her and leaned
back against the damp wall ; and with half closed
eyes she watched the moving shadows of his arms
cast on the wall opposite by the lantern. He
worked as steadily as a machine, except when he
withdrew the bar for a moment, in order to clear
out the broken brick and mortar with his hand ;
then again the bar struck the solid stuff, and re-
coiled in his grasp and struck again, regularly as
the swinging of a pendulum.

But no echo came back from an emptiness
beyond. Ignorant as Sabina was of all such things,
her instinct told her that the masonry was enorm-
ously thick ; and yet her faith in him made him

xiv THE HEART OF ROME 217

sure that he had chosen the only spot where there
was a chance at all.

Sometimes she almost forgot the danger for
a little while. It pleased her to watch him, and
to follow the rhythmic movements of his strong
and graceful body. It is a good sight to see an
athletic man exerting every nerve and muscle
wisely and skilfully in a very long -continued
effort ; and the woman who has seen a man
do that to save her own life is not likely to
forget it.

And then, again, the drowsiness came over her,
and she was almost asleep, and woke with a shiver,
feeling cold. He had given her his watch to
hold, when he had made her sit on his waistcoat,
and she had squeezed it under her glove into the
palm of her hand. It was a plain silver watch
with no chain. She got it out and looked at it.

Eight o'clock, now. The time had passed
quickly, and she must have really been asleep.
The Baron and his wife were just going to sit
down to dinner, unless her disappearance had
produced confusion in the house. But they would
not be frightened, though they might be angry.
The servants would have told them that Signer
Sassi, whose card was there to prove his coming,
had asked for Donna Sabina, and that she had
gone out with him in a cab, dressed for walking.
Signer Sassi was a highly respectable person, and
though it might be a little eccentric, according to
the Baroness's view, for Sabina to go out with
him in a cab, especially in the afternoon, there
could really be no great harm in it. The Baroness

2i 8 THE HEART OF ROME

would be angry because she had stayed out so late.
The Baroness would be much angrier by and by,
when she knew what had really happened, and it
must all be known, of course. When Sassi was
sure that Masin could not get the two out of the
vault himself, or with such ordinary help as he
could procure, he would have to go to the Baron,
who would instantly inform the authorities, and
bring an engineer, and a crowd of masons to
break a way. There was some comfort in that,
after all. It was quite impossible that she and
Malipieri should be left to starve to death.

Besides, she was not at all hungry, though it
was dinner time. She was only cold, and sleepy.
She wished she could take the crowbar from
Malipieri's hands and use it for a few minutes,
just to warm herself. He had said that he was
too hot, and by the uncertain light, she fancied she
could see a little moisture on his white forehead.

She was right in that, for he was growing tired
and knew that before long he must rest for at
least a quarter of an hour. The hole was now
three feet deep or more, yet no hollow sound came
back from the blows he dealt. His arms were
beginning to ache, and he began to count the
strokes. He would strike a hundred more, and
then he would rest. He kept up the effort
steadily to the end, and then laid down the bar
and passed his handkerchief over his forehead.
Sabina watched him and looked up into his face
when he turned to her.

'You are tired,' she said, rising and standing
beside him, so as to speak more easily.

XIV

THE HEART OF ROME 219

* I shall be quite rested in a few minutes,' he
answered, « and then I will go on.'

* You must be very strong,' said Sabina.
Then she told him what she had been thinking

of, and how it was certain that the Baron would
bring a large force of men to set them free.
Malipieri listened to the end, and nodded thought-
fully. She was right, supposing that nothing had
happened to Sassi and Masin ; but he knew his
own man, and judged that he must have made
some desperate attempt to stop the inflowing
water in the outer chamber, and it was not im-
possible that poor old Sassi, in his devotion to
Sabina had made a mad effort to help Masin, and
that they had both lost their lives together. If
that had happened, there was no one to tell
Volterra where Sabina was. Enquiries at Sassi's
house would be useless ; all that could be known
would be that he had gone out between four and
five o'clock, that he had called at the house in the
Via Ludovisi, and that he and Sabina had driven
away together. No doubt, in time, the police
could find the cab they had taken, and the. cab-
man would remember that they had paid him at
the Palazzo Conti. But all that would take a
long time. The porter knew nothing of their
coming, and being used to Malipieri's ways would
not think of ringing at his door. In time Toto
would doubtless break out, but he had not seen
Sabina, for Malipieri had been very careful to
make her walk close to the wall.

He did not tell Sabina these things, so it was
better that she should look forward to being set

220 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

free in a few hours, but he had very grave doubts
about the likelihood of any such good fortune.

'You must sit down,' said Sabina. 'You can-
not rest unless you sit down. I will stand for a
while.'

' There is room for us both,' Malipieri an-
swered.

They sat down side by side on the board with
the lantern at their feet, and they were very close
together.

' But you will catch cold, now that you have
stopped working,' Sabina said suddenly. ' How
stupid of me ! '

As she spoke she pulled his coat off her
shoulders, and tried to throw it over his ; but he
resisted, saying that he could not possibly have
time to catch cold, if he went back to work in
a few minutes. Yet he already felt the horrible
dampness that came up out of the overflow shaft
and settled on everything in glistening beads. It
only made him understand how cold she must be,
after sitting idle for two hours.

* Do you think we shall get out to-night ? '
Sabina asked suddenly, with the coat in her hand.

' I hope so,' he answered.

She stood up, and looked at the cavity he had
made in the wall.

' Where will that lead to ? ' she inquired.

He had risen too.

' It ought to lead into the coach-house, as far
as I can judge.'

Instinctively, he went forward to examine the
hole, and at that moment Sabina cleverly threw

THE HEART OF ROME 221

the coat over his shoulders and held it round his
neck with both her hands.

* There ! ' she cried. * You are caught now ! '
And she laughed as lightly as if there were no such
thing as danger.

Malipieri wondered whether she realized the
gravity of the situation, or whether she were
only pretending to be gay in order to make it
easier for him. In either case she was perfectly
brave.

' You must not ! ' he answered, gently trying to
free himself. ' You need it more than I.'

' I wonder if it is big enough to cover us both,'
Sabina said, as the idea struck her. * Come ! sit
down beside me and we will try.'

He smiled and sat down beside her, and they
managed to hold the coat so that it just covered
their shoulders.

' Paul and Virginia,' said Malipieri, and they
both laughed a little.

But as their laughter died away, Sabina's teeth
chattered, and she drew in her breath. At the
slight sound Malipieri looked anxiously into her
face, and saw that her lips were blue.

' This is folly,' he said. ' You will fall ill if
you stay here any longer. It is quite dry in the
vault, and warm by comparison with this place.
You must go down there, while I stay here and
work.'

He got up, and in spite of a little resistance
he made her put her arms into the sleeves of the
coat, and turned the cuffs back, and fastened the
buttons. She was shivering from head to foot.

222 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

' What a miserable little thing I am ! ' she cried
impatiently.

' You are not a miserable little thing, and you
are much braver than most men,' said Malipieri.
' But it will be of very little use to get you out of
the vault alive if you are to die of a fever in a day
or two.'

She said nothing and he led her carefully down
the inclined passage and the steps, away from the
gloomy overflow, and the roaring water and the
fearful dampness. He helped her down into
the vault very gently, over the glittering chest
of the great imperial statue. The air felt warm
and dry, now that she was so badly chilled, and
her lips looked a little less blue.

' I will light the lamp, and turn it very low,'
said Malipieri.

c I am not afraid of the dark,' Sabina answered.
* You said that we must not waste our light.'

' Shall you really not be nervous ? ' Malipieri
supposed that all women were afraid to be in the
dark alone.

' Of course not. Why should I ? There are
no spiders, and I do not believe in ghosts. Besides,
I shall hear you hammering at the wall.'

' You had better sit on the body of the
Venus. I think the marble is warmer than the
bronze. But there is the board — I forgot. Wait
a minute.'

He was not gone long, and came back bringing
the board and his waistcoat. To his surprise, he
found her sitting on the ground, propping herself
with one hand.

x.v THE HEART OF ROME 223

4 1 felt a little dizzy in the dark,' she explained,
' so I sat down, for fear of falling.'

He glanced at her face, and his own was grave,
as he placed the board on the ground, and laid the
waistcoat over the curving waist of the Aphrodite,
so that she could lean against it. She got up
quickly when it was ready and seated herself,
drawing up her knees and pulling her skirt closely
round her damp shoes to keep her feet warm, if
possible. He set the lamp beside her and gave
her a little silver box of matches, so that she could
get a light if she felt nervous. He looked at her
face thoughtfully as he stood with his lantern in
his hand, ready to go.

* But you have nothing to put on, if you have
to rest again ! ' she said, rather feebly.

* I will come and rest here, about once an hour,'
he answered.

Her face brightened a little, and she nodded,
looking up into his eyes.

4 Yes. Come and rest beside me,' she said.

He went away, climbing over the statue and
out through the hole in the vault. Just before
he disappeared, he held up his lantern and looked
towards her. She was watching him.

' Good-night,' he said. ' Try to sleep a little.'

* Come back soon,' she answered faintly, and
smiled.

Presently he was at work again, steadily driving
the bar against the hard bricks, steadily chipping
away a little at a time, steadily making progress
against the enormous obstacle. The only question
was whether his strength would last, for if he had

224 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

been able to get food, it would have been merely a
matter of time. A crowbar does not wear down
much on bricks.

At first, perfectly mechanical work helps a man
to think, as walking generally does ; but little by
little it dulls the faculties and makes thought
almost impossible. Senseless words begin to re-
peat themselves with the movement, fragments
of tunes fit themselves to the words, and play a
monotonous and exasperating music in the brain,
till a man has the sensation of having a hurdy-
gurdy in his head, though he may be working for
his life, as Malipieri was. Yet the unchanging
repetition makes the work easier, as a sailor's
chanty helps at the topsail halliards.

' We must get out before we starve, we must
get out before we starve,' sang the regular blows
of the bar to a queer little tune which Malipieri
had never heard.

When he stopped to clear out the chips, the
song stopped too, and he thought of Sabina sitting
alone in the vault, propped against the Aphrodite ;
and he hoped that she might be asleep. But when
he swung the bar back into position and heard it
strike the bricks, the tune and the words came
back with the pendulum rhythm ; and went on and
on, till they were almost maddening, though there
no longer seemed to be any sense in them. They
made the time pass.

Sabina heard the dull blows, too, though not
very loud. It was a comfort to hear anything in
the total darkness, and she tried to amuse herself
by counting the strokes up to a hundred and then

XIV

THE HEART OF ROME 225

checking the hundreds by turning in one finger
after another. It would be something to tell him
when he came back. She wondered whether there
would be a thousand, and then, as she was wonder-
ing, she lost the count, and by way of a change
she tried to reckon how many seconds there were
in an hour. But she got into trouble with the
cyphers when she tried to multiply sixty by sixty
in her head, and she began counting the strokes
again. They always stopped for a few seconds
somewhere between thirty and forty.

She wished he would come back soon, for she
was beginning to feel very cold again, so cold
that presently she got upon her feet and walked
a dozen steps, feeling her way along the great
bronze statue. It was better than sitting still.
She had heard of prisoners who had kept them-
selves sane in a dark dungeon by throwing away a
few pins they had, and finding them again,
was a famous prisoner who did that. It was the
prisoner of Quillon — no, * quillon ' had something
to do with a sword — no, it was Chiilon. Then
she felt dizzy again, and steadied herself against
the statue, and presently groped her way back to
her seat. She almost fell, when she sat down, but
saved herself and at last succeeded in getting to
her original position. It was not that she was
faint from hunger yet ; her dizziness was probably
the result of cold and weariness and discomfort,
and most of all, of the unaccustomed darkness.

She was ashamed of being so weak, when she
listened to the steady strokes, far off, and thought
of the strength and endurance it must need to do

Q

226 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

what Malipieri seemed to be doing so easily. But
she was very cold indeed, chilled to the bone and
shivering, and she could not think of any way of
getting warm. She rose again, and struck one of
the matches he had given her, and by its feeble
light she walked a few seconds without feeling
dizzy, and then sat down just as the little taper
was going to burn her fingers.

A few minutes later she heard footsteps over-
head, and saw a faint light through the hole. He
was coming at last, and she smiled happily before
she saw him.

He came down and asked how she was, and he
sat on the Aphrodite beside her.

' If I could only get warm ! ' she answered.

* Perhaps you can warm your hands a little on
the sides of the lantern,' he said.

She tried that and felt a momentary sensation
of comfort, and asked him what progress he was
making.

' Very slow,' he replied. ' I cannot hear the
least sound from the other side yet. Masin is not
there.'

She did not expect any other answer, and said
nothing, as she sat shivering beside him.

* You are very brave,' he said, presently.

A long pause followed. She had bent her
head low, so that her face almost touched her
knees.

* Signer Malipieri ' she began, at last, in

rather a trembling tone.

* Yes ? What is it ? ' He bent down to her,
but she did not look up.

XIV

THE HEART OF ROME 227

< I I — hardly know how to say it,' she faltered.

' Shall you think very, very badly of me if^ I ask

you to do something — something that ' She

stopped.

' There is nothing in heaven or earth I will not
do for you,' he answered. c And I shall certainly
not think anything very dreadful.' He tried to
speak cheerfully.

'I think I shall die of the cold,' she said.

* There might be a way '

1 Yes ? Anything ! '
Then she spoke very low.
* Do you think you could just put your arms
round me for a minute or two ? ' she asked.

Piteously cold though she was, the blood rushed
to her face as she uttered the words ; but Malipieri
felt it in his throat and eyes.

« Certainly,' he answered, as if she had asked
the most natural thing in the world. * Sit upon my
knees, and I will hold my arms round you, till you
are warm.'

He settled himself on the marble limbs of the
Aphrodite, and the frail young girl seated herself
on his knees, and nestled to him for warmth,
while he held her close to him, covering her with
his arms as much as he could. They went quite
round her, one above the other, and she hid her
face against his shoulder. He could feel her
trembling with the cold like a leaf, under the coat
he had made her put on.

Suddenly she started a little, but not as if she
wished to go ; it was more like a sob than any-
thing else.

228 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

' What is the matter ? ' he asked, steadying his
voice with difficulty.

* I am so ashamed of myself ! ' she answered,
and she buried her face against his shoulder
again.

* There is nothing to be ashamed of,' he said
gently. ' Are you a little warmer now ? '

' Oh, much, much ! Let me stay just a little
longer.'

' As long as you will,' he answered, pressing her
to him quietly.

He wondered if she could hear his heart, which
was beating like a hammer, and whether she noticed
anything strange in his voice. If she did, she
would not understand. She was only a child after
all. He told himself that he was old enough to
be her father, though he was not ; he tried not to
think of her at all. But that was of no use. He
would have given his body, his freedom, his soul
and the life to come, to kiss her as she lay helpless
in his arms ; he would have given anything the
world held, or heaven, if it had been his ; anything,
except his honour. But that he would not give.
His heart might beat itself to pieces, his brain
might whirl, the little fires might flash furiously
in his closed eyes, his throat might be as parched
as the rich man's in hell — she had trusted herself
to him like a child, in sheer despair and misery,
and safe as a child she should lie on his breast.
She should die there, if they were to die.

' I am warm now,' she said at last, * really quite
warm again, if you want to go back.'

He did not wonder. He felt as if he were on

xiv THE HEART OF ROME 229

fire from his head to his feet. At her words he
relaxed his arms at once, and she stood up.

4 You are so good to me,' she said, with an
impulse of gratitude for safety which she herself
did not understand. ' What makes you so good
to me ? '

He shook his head, as if he could not answer
then, and smiled a little sadly.

* Now that you are warm, I must not lose
time,' he said, a moment later, taking up his
lantern.

She sat down in her old place, and gathered
her skirt to her feet and watched him as he
climbed out, and the last rays of light disappeared.
Then the pounding at the wall began again, far
off, and she tried to count the strokes, as she had
done before ; but she wished him back, and
whether she felt cold or not, she wished herself
again quietly folded in his arms, and though she
was alone and it was quite dark she blushed at the
thought. It seemed to her that the blows were
struck in quicker succession now than before.
Was he willing to tire himself out a little sooner,
so as to earn the right to come back to her ?

That was not it. He was growing desperate,
and could not control the speed of his hands so
perfectly as before. The night was advancing, he
knew, though he had not looked at the watch,
which was still in Sabina's glove. It was growing
late, and he could distinguish no sound but that
of the blows he struck at the bricks and the steady
roar of the water. The conviction grew on him
that Masin was drowned, and perhaps old Sassi

2 30 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

too, and that their bodies lay at the bottom of the
outer chamber, between the well and the wall of
the cellar. If Masin had been able to get into
the well, before the water was too high, he would
have risen with it, for he was a good swimmer.

So was Malipieri, and more than once he
thought of making an attempt to reach the widened
slit in the wall by diving. That he could find the
opening he was sure, but he was almost equally sure
that he could never get through it alive and up to
the surface on the other side. If he were drowned
too, Sabina would be left to die alone, or perhaps
to go mad with horror before she was found. He
had heard of such things.

It was no wonder that he unconsciously struck
faster as he worked, and at first he felt himself
stronger than before, as men do when they are
almost despairing. The sweat stood out on his
forehead, and his hands tingled, when he drew back
the iron to clear away the chips. He worked harder
and harder.

The queer little tune did not ring in his head
now, for he could think of nothing but Sabina
and of what was to become of her, even if he
succeeded in saving her life. It was almost im-
possible that such a strange adventure should
remain a secret, and, being once known, the
injury to the girl might be irreparable. He hated
himself for having brought her to the place. Yet,
as he thought it over, he knew that he would have
done it again.

It had seemed perfectly safe. Any one could
have seen that the water had not risen in the well

THE HEART OF ROME 231

for many years. Day after day, for a long time,
he and Masin had worked in the vaults in perfect
safety. The way to the statues had been made
so easy that only a timid old man like Sassi could
have found it impassable. There had been absolutely
no cause to fear that after fifty or sixty years the
course of the water should be affected, and the
chances against such an accident happening during
that single hour of Sabina's visit were as many
millions to one. His motive in bringing ^ her
had been quixotic, no doubt, but good and just,
and so far as Sabina's reputation was concerned,
Sassi's presence had constituted a sufficient social
protection.

He hammered away at the bricks furiously, and
the cavity grew deeper and wider. Surely he had
made a mistake at first in wishing to husband his
strength too carefully. If he had worked from
the beginning as he was working now, he would
have made the breach by this time.

Unless that were impossible ; unless, after all, he
had struck the end of a cross wall and was work-
ing through the length of it instead of through its
thickness. The fear of such a misfortune took
possession of him, and he laid down his crowbar
to examine the wall carefully. There was one
way of finding out the truth, if he could only get
light enough ; no mason that ever lived would lay
his bricks in any way except lengthwise along each
course. If he had struck into a cross wall, he
must be demolishing the bricks from their ends
instead of across them, and he could find out
which way they lay at the end of the cavity, if he

232 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

could make the light of the lantern shine in as far
as that. The depth was more than five feet now,
and his experience told him that even in the con-
struction of a mediaeval palace the walls above the
level of the ground were very rarely as thick as
that, when built of good brick and cement like
this one.

When he took up his lantern, he was amazed
at what he had done in less than four hours ; if
he had been told that an ordinary man had accom-
plished anything approaching to it in that time, he
would have been incredulous. He had hardly
realized that he had made a hole big enough for
him to work in, kneeling on one knee, and bracing
himself with the other foot.

But the end was narrow, of course, and when
he held the light before it, he could not see past the
body of the lantern. He opened the latter, took
out the little oil lamp carefully and thrust it into
the hole. He could see now, as he carefully
examined the bricks, and he was easily convinced
that he had not entered a cross wall. Nevertheless,
when he had been working with the bar, he had
not detected any change in the sound, as he
thought he must have done, if he had been near
the further side. Was the wall ten feet thick ?
He looked again. It was not a vaulting, that was
clear ; and it could not be anything but a wall.
There was some comfort in that. He drew back
a little, put the lamp into the lantern again and
got out backwards. The passage was bright ; he
looked up quickly and started.

Sabina was standing beside him, holding the

XIV

THE HEART OF ROME 233

large lamp. Her big hat had fallen back and her
hair made a fair cloud between it and her white
face.

' I thought something had happened to you,'
she said, * so I brought the lamp. You stopped
working for such a long time,' she explained, * I
thought you must have hurt yourself, or fainted.'

4 No,' answered Malipieri. c There is nothing
the matter with me. I was looking at the bricks.'

* You must need rest, for it is past ten o'clock.
I looked at the watch.'

' I will rest when I get through the wall. There
is no time to be lost. Are you very hungry ? '

* No. I am a little thirsty.' She looked at the
black water, pouring down the overflow shaft.

' That water is not good to drink,' said Mali-
pieri, thinking of what was at the bottom of the
well. * We had better not drink it unless we are
absolutely forced to. I hope to get you out in
two hours.'

He stood leaning on his crowbar, his dark hair
covered with dust, his white shirt damp and clinging
to him, and all stained from rubbing against the
broken masonry.

4 It would be better to rest for a few minutes,'
she said, not moving.

He knew she was right, but he went with her
reluctantly, and presently he was sitting beside
her on the marble limbs of the Aphrodite. She
turned her face to him a little shyly, and then
looked away again.

' Were ever two human beings in such a situation
before ! '

234 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

' Everything has happened before/ Malipieri
answered. * There is nothing new.'

' Does it hurt very much to die of starvation ? '
Sabina asked after a little pause.

' Not if one has plenty of water. It is thirst
that drives people mad. Hunger makes one weak,
that is all.'

* And cold, I am sure.'

' Very cold.' v

They were both silent. She looked steadily
at the gleaming bronze statue before her, and
Malipieri looked down at his hands.

' How long does it take to starve to death ? '
she asked at last.

' Strong men may live two or three weeks if
they have water.'

' I should not live many days,' Sabina said
thoughtfully. ' It would be awful for you to be
living on here, with me lying dead.'

' Horrible. Do not think about it. We shall
get out before morning.'

' I am afraid not,' she said quietly. ' I am afraid
we are going to die here.'

' Not if I can help it,' answered Malipieri.

' No. Of course not. I know you will do
everything possible, and I am sure that if you
could save me by losing your life, you would.
Yes. But if you cannot break through the wall,
there is nothing to be done.'

' The water may go down to-morrow. It is
almost sure to go down before long. Then we
can get out by the way we came in.'

* It will not go down. I am sure it will not.'

x.v THE HEART OF ROME 235

* It is too soon to lose courage,' Malipieri
said.

* I am not frightened. It will not be hard to
die, if it does not, hurt. It will be much harder
for you, because you are so strong. You will live
a long time.'

* Not unless I can save you,' he answered,
rising. * I am going back to work. It will be
time enough to talk about death when my strength
is all gone.'

He spoke almost roughly, partly because for
one moment she had made him feel a sort of
sudden dread that she might be right, partly to
make her think that he thought the supposition
sheer nonsense.

* Are you angry ? * she asked, like a child.

* No ! ' He made an effort and laughed almost
cheerfully. * But you had better think about
what you should like for supper in two or three
hours ! It is hardly worth while to put out that
lamp,' he added. 'It will burn nearly twelve
hours, for it is big, and it was quite full. There
is a great deal of heat in it, too.'

He went away again. But when he was gone,
she drew the lamp over to her without leaving her
seat, and put it out. She was very tired and a
little faint, and by and by the distant sound of the
crowbar brought back the drowsiness she had felt
before, and leaning her head against the Aphrodite's
curving waist, she lost consciousness.

He worked a good hour or more without result,
came down to her, and found her in a deep sleep.
As he noiselessly left her, he wondered how many

236 THE HEART OF ROME

men could have slept peacefully in such a case as
hers.

Once more he took the heavy bar, and toiled
on, but he felt that his strength was failing fast
for want of food. He had eaten nothing since mid-
day, and had not even drunk water, and in six hours
he had done as much hard work, as two ordinary
workmen could have accomplished in a day. With
a certain amount of rest, he could still go on, but
a quarter of an hour would no longer be enough.
He was very thirsty, too, but though he might
have drunk his fill from the hollow of his hand, he
could not yet bring himself to taste the water.
He was afraid that he might be driven to it
before Jong, but he would resist as long as he
could.

Every stroke was an effort now, as he struggled
on blindly, not only against the material obstacle,
but against the growing terror that was taking
possession of him, the hideous probability of having
worked in vain after all, and the still worse
certainty of what the end must be if he really
failed.

Effort after effort, stroke after stroke, though
each seemed impossible after the last. He could
not fail, and let that poor girl die, unless he could
die first, of sheer exhaustion.

If he were to stop now, it might be hours
before he could go on again, and then he would be
already weakened by hunger. There was nothing
to be done but to keep at it, to strike and strike,
with such half-frantic energy as was left in him.
Every bone and sinew ached, and his breath came

THE HEART OF ROME 237

short, while the sweat ran down into his short
beard, and fell in rain on his dusty hands.

But do what he would, the blows followed each
other in slower succession. He could not strike
twenty more, not ten, not five perhaps ; he would
not count them ; he would cheat himself into
doing what could not be done ; he would count
backwards and forwards, one, two, three, three,
two, one, one, two—

And then, all at once, the tired sinews were
braced like steel, and his back straightened, and
his breath came full and clear. The blow had
rung hollow.

He could have yelled as he sent the great bar
flying against the bricks again and again, far in
the shadow, and the echo rang back, louder and
louder, every time.

The bar ran through and the end he held shot
from his hands, as the resistance failed at last, and
half the iron went out on the other side. He
drew it back quickly and looked to see if there
were any light, but there was none. He did not
care, for the rest would be child's play compared
with what he had done, and easier than play now
that he had the certainty of safety.

The first thing to be done was to tell Sabina
that the danger was past. He crept back with his
light and stood upright. It hurt him to straighten
himself, and he now knew how tremendous
the labour had been ; the last furious minutes
had been like the delirium of a fever. But he
was tough and used to every sort of fatigue, and
hope had come back ; he forgot how thirsty he

238 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

had been, and did not even glance behind him at
the water.

Sabina was still asleep. He stood before her,
and hesitated, for it seemed cruel to wake her,
even to tell her the good news. He would go
back and widen the breach, and when there was
room to get out, he could come and fetch her.
She had put out the lamp. He lighted it again
quietly, and was going to place it where it could
not shine in her eyes and perhaps wake her, when
he paused to look at her face.

It was very still, and deadly pale, and her lips
were blue. He could not see that she was breath-
ing, for his coat hung loosely over her slender
figure. She looked almost dead. Her gloved
hands lay with the palms upwards, the one in her
lap, the other on the ground beside her. He
touched that one gently with the back of his own,
and it seemed to him that it was very cold, through
the glove.

He touched her cheek in the same way, and it
felt like ice. It would surely be better to wake
her, and make her move about a little. He spoke
to her, at first softly, and then quite loud, but she
made no sign. Perhaps she was not asleep, but
had fainted from weariness and cold ; he knelt
beside her, and took her hand in both his own,
chafing it between them, but still she gave no sign.
It was certainly a fainting fit, and he knew that if
a woman was pale when she fainted, she should be
laid down at full length, to make the blood return
to her head. Kneeling beside her, he lifted her
carefully and placed her on her back beside the

XIV

THE HEART OF ROME 239

Aphrodite, smoothing out his waistcoat under her
head, not for a pillow but for a little protection
from the cold ground.

Then he hesitated, and remained some time
kneeling beside her. She needed warmth more than
anything else ; he knew that, and he knew that the
best way to warm her a little was to hold her in
his arms. Yet he would try something else first.

He bent over her and undoing one of the
buttons of the coat, he breathed into it again and
again, long, warm breaths. He did this for a
long time, and then looked at her face, but it had
not changed. He felt the ground with his hand,
and it was cold ; as long as she lay there, she could
never get warm.

He lifted her again, still quite unconscious, and
sat with her in his arms, as he had done before,
laying her head against the hollow of his shoulder,
and pressing her gently, trying to instil into her
some of his own strong life.

At last, she gave a little sigh, and moved her
head, nestling herself to him, but it was long
before she spoke. He felt the consciousness
coming back in her, and the inclination to move,
rather than any real motion in her delicate frame,
the more perceptible breathing, and then the little
sigh came again, and at last the words.

' I thought we were dead,' she said, so low that
he could barely hear.

« No, you fainted,' he answered. ' We are safe.
I have got the bar through the wall.'

She turned up her face feebly, without lifting
her head.

24o THE HEART OF ROME CHAP, xiv

' Really ? Have you done it ? '

' Yes. In another hour, or a little more, the
hole will be wide enough for us to get through it.'

She hid her face again, and breathed quietly.

' You do not seem glad,' he said.

' It seemed so easy to die like this,' she
answered.

But presently she moved in his arms, and looked
up again, and smiled, though she did not try to
speak again. He himself, almost worn out by
what he had done, was glad to sit still for a while.
His blood was not racing through him now, his
head was not on fire. It seemed quite natural that
he should be sitting there, holding her close to him
and warming her back to life with his own warmth.

It was a strange sensation, he thought after-
wards, when many other things had happened which
were not long in following upon the events of that
night. He could not quite believe that he was
almost stupid with extreme fatigue, and yet he
remembered that it had been more like a calm
dream than anything else, a dream of peace and
rest. At the time, it all seemed natural, as the
strangest things do when one has been face to face
with death for a few hours, and when one is so
tired that one can hardly think at all.

CHAPTER XV

THERE was less consternation in the Volterra
household than might have been expected when
Sabina did not come in before bedtime. The
servants knew that she had gone out with an old
gentleman, a certain Signer Sassi, at about five
o'clock, but until Volterra came in, the Baroness
could not find out who Sassi was, and she insisted
on searching every corner of the house, as if she
were in quest of his biography, for the servants
assured her that Sabina was still out, and they
certainly knew. She carefully examined Sabina's
room too, looking for a note, a line of writing,
anything to explain the girl's unexpected absence.

She could find nothing except the short letter
from Sabina's mother to which reference has been
made, and she read it over several times. Sabina
received no letters, and had been living in some-
thing like total isolation. The Baroness had
reached a certain degree of intimacy with her
beloved aristocracy ; but though she occasionally
dropped in upon it, and was fairly well received,
it rarely, if ever, dropped in upon her. It showed
itself quite willing, however, to accept a formal
invitation to a good dinner at her house.

241 R

242 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

She telephoned to the Senate and to a club,
but Volterra could not be found. Then she went
to dress, giving orders that Sabina was to be sent
to her the moment she came in. She was very
angry, and her sallow face was drawn into severe
angles ; she scolded her maid for everything, and
rustled whenever she moved.

At last the Baron came home, and she learned
who Sassi was. Volterra was very much surprised,
but said that Sassi must have come for Sabina in
connexion with some urgent family matter. Perhaps
some one of her family had died suddenly, or was
dying. It was very thoughtless of Sabina not to
leave a word of explanation, but Sassi was an
eminently respectable person, and she was quite
safe with him.

The Baron ate his dinner, and repeated the
substance of this to his wife before the servants,
whose good opinion they valued. Probably Donna
Clementina, the nun, was very ill, and Sabina was
at the convent. No, Sabina did not love her sister,
of course ; but one always went to see one's rela-
tions when they were dying, in order to forgive
them their disagreeable conduct ; all Romans did
that, said the Baroness, and it was very proper.
By and by a note could be sent to the convent, or
the carriage could go there to bring Sabina back.
But the Baron did not order the carriage, and
became very thoughtful over his coffee and his
Havana. Sabina had been gone more than four
hours, and that was certainly a longer time than
could be necessary for visiting a dying relative.
He said so.

xv THE HEART OF ROME 243

' Perhaps,' suggested his wife, ' it is the Prince
who is ill, and Signer Sassi has taken Sabina to the
country to see her brother.'

* No,' answered the Baron after a moment's
thought. * That family is eccentric, but the girl
would not have gone to the country without a bag.'

* There is something in that,' answered the
Baroness, and they relapsed into silence.

Yet she was not satisfied, for, as her husband
said, the Conti were all eccentric. Nevertheless,
Sabina would at least have telegraphed, or sent a
line from the station, or Sassi would have done it
for her, for he was a man of business.

After a long time, the Baroness suggested that
if her husband knew Sassi's address, some one
should be sent to his house to find out if he had
gone out of town.

* I have not the least idea where he lives,' the
Baron said. ' As long as I had any business with
him, I addressed him at the palace.'

* The porter may know,' observed the Baroness.
' The porter is an idiot,' retorted the Baron,

puffing at his cigar.

His wife knew what that meant, and did not
enquire why an idiot was left in charge of the
palace. Volterra did not intend to take that way
of making enquiries about Sabina, if he made any
at all, and the Baroness knew that when he did
not mean to do a thing, the obstinacy of a Calabrian
mule was docility compared with his dogged
opposition. Moreover, she would not have dared
to do it unknown to him. There was some good
reason why he did not intend to look for Sassi.

244 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

' Besides,' he condescended to say after a long
time, ' she is quite safe with that old man, wherever
they are.'

* Society might not think so, my dear,' answered
the Baroness in mild protest.

' Society had better mind its business, and let
us take care of ours.'

' Yes, my dear, yes, of course ! '

She did not agree with him at all. Her ideal
of a happy life was quite different, for she was very
much pleased when society took a lively interest in
her doings, and nothing interested her more than
the doings of society. She presently ventured to
argue the case.

* Yes, of course,' she repeated, by way of pre-
liminary conciliation. ' I was only wondering
what people will think, if anything happens to the
girl while she is under our charge.'

' What can happen to her ? '

'There might be some talk about her going
out in this way. The servants know it, you see,
and she is evidently not coming home this evening.
They know that she went out without leaving any
message, and they must think it strange.'

' I agree with you.'

' Well, then, there will be some story about her.
Do you see what I mean ? '

* Perfectly. But that will not affect us in the
least. Every one knows what strange people the
Conti are, and everybody knows that we are per-
fectly respectable. If there is a word said about
the girl's character, you will put her into the
carriage, my dear, and deposit her at the convent

xv THE HEART OF ROME 245

under the charge of her sister. Everybody will
say that you have done right, and the matter will
be settled.'

* You would not really send her to the
convent ! '

1 1 will certainly not let her live under my roof,
if she stays out all night without giving a satis-
factory account of herself.'

* But her mother '

4 Her mother is no better than she should be,'
observed the Baron virtuously, by way of answer.

The Baroness was very much disturbed. She
had been delighted to be looked upon as a sort of
providence to the distressed great, and had looked
forward to the social importance of being regarded
as a second mother to Donna Sabina Conti. She
had hoped to make a good match for her, and to
shine at the wedding ; she had dreamed of marry-
ing the girl to Malipieri, who was such a fine
fellow, and would be so rich some day that he
might be trapped into taking a wife without a
dowry.

These castles in the air were all knocked to
pieces by the Baron's evident determination to get
rid of Sabina.

' I thought you liked the girl,' said the Baroness
in a tone of disappointment.

Volterra stuck out both his feet and crossed
his hands on his stomach, after his manner, smok-
ing vigorously. Then, with his cigar in one
corner of his mouth, he laughed out of the other,
and assumed a playful expression.

* I do not like anybody but you, my darling,'

246 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

he said, looking at the ceiling. ' Nobody in the
whole wide world ! You are the deposited security.
All the other people are the floating circulation.'

He seemed pleased with this extraordinary view
of mankind, and the Baroness smiled at her faith-
ful husband. She rarely understood what he was
doing, and hardly ever guessed what he meant to
do, but she was absolutely certain of his conjugal
fidelity, and he gave her everything she wanted.

' The other people,' he said, ' are just notes,
and nothing else. When a note is damaged or
worn out, you can always get a new one at the
bank, in exchange for it. Do you understand ? '

' Yes, my dear. That is very clever.'

' It is very true,' said the Baron. ' The Conti
family consists chiefly of damaged notes.'

He had not moved his cigar from the corner
of his mouth to speak.

' Yes, my dear/ answered the Baroness, meekly,
and when she thought of her last interview with
the dowager Princess, she was obliged to admit the
fitness of the simile.

* The only one of them at all fit to remain in
circulation,' he continued, * was this girl. If she
stays out all night she will be distinctly damaged,
too. Then you will have to pass her off to some
one else, as one does, you know, when a note is
doubtful.'

* The cook can generally change them,' ob-
served the Baroness irrelevantly.

' I do not think she is coming home,' said the
Baron, much more to the point.

' I hope she will ! After all, if she does not,

xv THE HEART OF ROME 247

you yourself say that she is quite safe with this
Signor Sassi '

4 1 did not say that she would be safe from
gossip afterwards, did I ? '

It was perfectly clear by this time that he
wished Sabina to leave the house as soon as
possible, and that he would take the first op-
portunity of obliging her to do so. Even if his
wife had dared to interfere, it would have been
quite useless, for she knew him to be capable of
hinting to the girl herself that she was no longer
welcome. Sabina was very proud, and she would
not stay under the roof an hour after that.

* I did not suggest that you should bring
her here,' Volterra continued presently. ' Please
remember that. I simply did not object to her
coming. That was all the share I had in it. In
any case I should have wished her to leave us
before we go away for the summer.'

* I had not understood that,' answered the
Baroness resignedly. ' I had hoped that she might
come with us.'

'She has settled the matter for herself, my
dear. After this extraordinary performance, I
must really decline to be responsible for her any
longer.'

It was characteristic of his methods that when
he had begun to talk over the matter before
dinner, she had not been able to guess at all
how he would ultimately look at it, and that he
only let her know his real intention by degrees.
Possibly, he had only wished to gain time to think
it over. She did not know that he had asked

248 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

Malipieri to leave the Palazzo Conti, and if she
had, it might not have occurred to her that there
was any connexion between that and his desire to
get rid of Sabina. His ways were complicated,
when they were not unpleasantly direct, not to
say brutal.

But the Baroness was much more human, and
had grown fond of the girl, largely because she
had no daughter of her own, and had always
longed to have one. Ambitious women, if they
have the motherly instinct, prefer daughters to
sons. One cannot easily tell what a boy may do
when he grows up, but a girl can be made to do
almost anything by her own mother, or to marry
almost any one. The Baroness's regret for losing
Sabina took the form of confiding to her husband
what she had hoped to do for the girl.

' I am very sorry,' she said, * but if you wish
her to go, she must leave us. Of late, I had been
thinking that we might perhaps marry her to that
clever Malipieri.'

The Baron smiled thoughtfully, took his cigar
from his lips at last, and looked at his wife.

* To Malipieri ? ' he asked, as if not quite
understanding the suggestion.

' Yes, I am sure he would make her a very
good husband. He evidently admires her, too.'

' Possibly. I never thought of it. But she
has no dowry. That is an objection.'

* He will be rich some day. Is he poor now ? '
' No. Not at all.'

' And she certainly likes him very much. It
would be a very good match for her.'

THE HEART OF ROME 249

'Admirable. But I do not think we need
trouble ourselves with such speculations, since she
is going to leave us so soon.'

* I shall always take a friendly interest in her,'
said the Baroness, ' wherever she may be.'

'Very well, my dear,' Volterra answered,
dropping the end of his cigar and preparing to
rise. ' That will be very charitable of you. But
your friendly interest can never marry her to
Malipieri.'

* Perhaps*not. But it might have been done,
if she had not been so foolish.'

' No,' said the Baron, getting to his feet, * it
never could have been done.'

' Why not ? ' asked his wife, surprised by the
decision of his tone.

' Because there is a very good reason why
Malipieri cannot marry her, my dear.'

* A good reason ? '

' A very good reason. My dear, I am sleepy.
I am going to bed.'

Volterra rang the bell by the fire-place, and a
man appeared almost instantly.

' You may put out the lights,' he said. * We
are going to bed.'

' Shall any one sit up, in cas,e Donna Sabina
should come in, Excellency ? ' asked the servant.

'No.'

He went towards the door, and his wife
followed him meekly.

CHAPTER XVI

SABINA'S strength revived in the warm night air,
out in the courtyard, under the stars, and the
awful danger from which Malipieri had saved her
and himself looked unreal, after the first few
moments of liberty. She got his watch out of her
glove where it had been so many hours, and by
the clear starlight they could see that it was nearly
twenty minutes past two o'clock. Malipieri had
put out the lamp, and the lantern had gone out
for lack of oil, at the last moment. It was
important that Sabina should not be seen by the
porter, in the very unlikely event of his being up
at that hour.

They had not thought that it could be so late,
for it was long since Sabina had looked at the
watch. The first thing that became clear to
Malipieri was that it would be out of the question
for him to take her home that night. The
question was where else to take her. She was
exhausted, too, and needed food at once, and her
clothes were wet from the dampness. It would
be almost a miracle if she did not fall ill, even if
she were well taken care of at once.

There was only one thing to be done ; she
250

CHAP, xvi THE HEART OF ROME 251

must go up to his apartment, and have something
to eat, and then she must rest. In the meantime
they would make some plan in order to explain
her absence.

The porter's wife might have been of some
use, if she could have been trusted with what
must for ever remain a dead secret, namely, that
Sabina had spent the night in Malipieri's rooms ;
for that would be the plain fact to-morrow
morning. What had happened to Sassi and
Masin was a mystery, but it was inconceivable
that either of them should have been free to act
during the past eight or nine hours and should
have made no effort to save the two persons to
whom they were respectively devoted, as to no one
else in the world.

Exhausted though he was, Malipieri would
have gone down into the cellars at once to try and
find some trace of them, if he had not felt that
Sabina must be cared for first ; and moreover he
was sure that if he found them at all, he should
find them both dead.

All this had been clear to him before he had at
last succeeded in bringing her out into the open
air.

' There is no help for it,' he whispered, * you
must come upstairs. Do you think vou can walk
so far ? '

* Of course I can ! ' she answered, straightening
herself bravely. • I am not at all tired.'

Nevertheless she gladly laid her hand on his
aching arm, and they both walked cautiously
along the paved gutter that separated the wall

252 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

from the gravel, for their steps would have made
much more noise on the latter. All was quiet,
and they reached Malipieri's door, by the help of
a wax light. He led her in, still carrying the
match, and he shut the door softly after him.

* At least/ Sabina said, ' no one can hear us
here.'

' Hush ! '

He suspected that Toto must have got out,
but was not sure. After lighting a candle, he led
the way into his study, and made Sabina sit
down, while he went back. He returned in a few
moments, having assured himself that Toto had
escaped by the window, and that Masin was not
in, and asleep.

' Masin has disappeared,' he said. ' We can
talk as much as we please, while you have your
supper.'

He had brought bread and wine and water,
which he set before her, and he went off again
to find something else. She ate hungrily after
drinking a glass at a draught. He reappeared
with the remains of some cold meat and ham.

' It is all I have,' he explained, ' but there is
plenty of bread.'

'Nothing ever tasted so good,' answered
Sabina gravely.

He sat down opposite to her and drank, and
began to eat the bread. His hands were grimy,
and had bled here and there at the knuckles where
they had grazed the broken masonry. His face
was streaked with dried perspiration and dust, his
collar was no longer a collar at all.

xvi THE HEART OF ROME 253

As for Sabina, she had tried to take off the
fawn-coloured hat, but it had in some way become
entangled with her unruly hair, and it was hanging
down her back. Otherwise, as she sat there her
dress was not visibly much the worse for the
terrible adventure. Her skirt was torn and soiled,
indeed, but the table hid it, and the coat had kept
the body of her frock quite clean. She did not
look much more dishevelled than if she had been
at a romping picnic in the country.

Nor did she look at all ill, after the wine and
the first mouthfuls of food had brought all the
warmth back to her. If anything, she was less
pale than usual now, her lips were red again, and
there was light in her eyes. There are little
women who look as if they had no strength at all,
and seem often on the point of breaking down, but
who could go through a battle or a shipwreck
almost without turning a hair, and without much
thought of their appearance either ; nor are they
by any means generally the mildest and least
reckless of their sex.

The two ate in silence for several minutes, but
they looked at each other and smiled now and
then, while they swallowed mouthful after mouthful.

' I wish I had counted the slices of bread I have
eaten,' said Sabina at last.

Malipieri laughed gaily. It did not seem
possible that an hour or two earlier they had been
looking death in the face. But his laughter died
away suddenly, and he was very grave in a
moment.

' I do not know what to do now,' he said.

254 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

* We shall have to make the Baroness believe that
you have spent the night at Sassi's house. That is
the only place where you can possibly be supposed
to have been. I am not good at lying, I believe.
Can you help me at all ? '
Sabina laughed.

* That is a flattering way of putting it ! ' she
answered. * It is true that I was brought up to
lie about everything, but I never liked it. The
others used to ask me why I would not, and whether
I thought myself better than they.'

* What are we to do ? '

' Suppose that we tell the truth,' said Sabina,
nibbling thoughtfully at a last slice of bread. * It
is much easier, you know.'

'Yes.'

Malipieri set his elbows on the table, leaned
his bearded chin upon his scarred knuckles and
looked at her. He wondered whether in her
innocence she even faintly guessed what people
would think of her, if they knew that she had
spent a night in his rooms. He had no experience
at all of young girls, and he wondered whether
there were many like Sabina. He thought it
unlikely.

' I believe in telling the truth, too,' he said at
last. 'But when you do, you must trust the
person to whom it is told. Now the person in
this case will be the Baroness Volterra. I shall
have to go and see her in the morning, and tell
her what has happened. Then, if she believes me,
she must come here in a cab and take you back.
That will be absolutely necessary. You need say

XVI

THE HEART OF ROME 255

nothing that I have not said, and I shall say
nothing that is not true.'

* That is the best way,' said Sabina, who liked
the simplicity of the plan.

Her voice sounded sleepy, and she suppressed a
little yawn.

* But suppose that she refuses to believe me,'
Malipieri continued, without noticing her weariness,
< what then ? '

* What else can she believe ? ' asked Sabina,
indifferently.

Malipieri did not answer for a long time, and
looked away, while he thought over the very
difficult situation. When he turned to her again,
he saw that she was resting her head in her hand
and that her eyes were closed.

* You are sleepy,' he said.

She looked up, and smiled, hardly able to keep
her eyes open.

* So sleepy ! ' she answered slowly. ' I cannot
keep awake a moment longer.'

' You must go to bed,' he said, rising.

* Yes — anywhere ! Only Jet me sleep.'

' You will have to sleep in my room. Do you
mind very much ? '

' Anywhere ! ' She hardly knew what she said,
she hardly saw his face any longer.

He led the way with one of the lights, and she
followed him with her eyes half shut.

4 It seems to be in tolerably good order,' he
said, glancing round, and setting down the candle.
' The key is in the inside. Turn it, please, when I
am gone.'

256 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

The room was scrupulously neat. Malipieri
shut the window carefully. When he turned, he
saw that she was sitting on the edge of the bed,
nodding with sleep.

' Good-night,' he said, in a low voice that was
nevertheless harsh. ' Lock your door.'

' Good-night,' she answered, with an effort.

He did not look at her again as he went out
and shut the door, and he went quickly through
the small room which divided the bedroom from
the study, and in which he kept most of his
clothes. He was very wide awake now, in spite
of being tired, and he sat down in his armchair
and smoked for some time. Suddenly he noticed
the state of his hands, and he realised what his
appearance must be.

Without making any noise, though he was sure
that Sabina was in a deep sleep by this time, he
went back through the first door and quietly got
a supply of clothes, and took them with him to
Masin's room, and washed there, and dressed
himself as carefully as if he were going out.
Then he went back to his study and sat down
wearily in his armchair. Worn out ?t last, he
was asleep in a few minutes, asleep as men are
after a battle, whether the fight has ended in
victory or defeat. Even the thought of Sabina
did not keep him awake, and he would not
have thought of her at all as he sat down, if he
could have helped it.

After such a night as they had passed it was
not likely that they should wake before ten o'clock
on the following morning.

THE HEART OF ROME 257

But the porter was up early, as usual, with his
broom to sweep the stairs and the paved entrance
under the arch. When he had come back from
the errand on which Malipieri had sent him, it had
been already dusk. He had gone up and had
rung the bell several times, but as no one opened
he had returned to his lodge. It was not unusual
for Malipieri and Masin to be both out at the
same time, and he thought it likely that they were
in the vaults. He cursed them both quietly for
the trouble they had given him of mounting the
stairs for nothing, and went to his supper, and in
due time to bed.

He must go up again at eight o clock, by wh
time Malipieri was always dressed, and as it was
now only seven o'clock he had plenty of time to
sweep. So he lit his pipe deliberately and took
his broom, and went out of his lodge.

The first thing that met his eye was a dark
stain on the stones, close to the postern,
passed his broom over it, and saw that it was dry ;
and it was red, but not like wine. Wine makes a
purple stain on stones. He stooped and scratched
it with his thick thumbnail. It was undoubtedly
blood, and nothing else. Some one had been
badly hurt there, or being wounded had stood
some moments on the spot to open the door and

get out.

The old man leaned on his broom a while, con-
sidering the matter, and debating whether he should
call his wife. His natural impulse was not to do
so, but to get a bucket of water and wash the
place before she could see it. The idea of going

258 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

out and calling a policeman never occurred to
him, for he was a real Roman, and his first
instinct was to remove every trace of blood from
the house in which he lived, whether it had been
shed by accident or in quarrel. On the other
hand, his wife might come out at any moment,
to go to her work, and find him washing the
pavement, and she would of course suppose that
he had killed somebody or had helped to kill
somebody during the night, and would begin to
scream, and call him an assassin, and there would
be a great noise, and much trouble afterwards.
According to his view, any woman would naturally
behave in this way, and as his views were founded
on his own experience, he was probably right, so
far as his wife was concerned. He therefore
determined to call her.

She came, she saw, she threw up her hands and
moaned a little about the curse that was on the
house, and she helped him to scrub the stones as
quickly as possible. When that was done, and
when they had flooded the whole pavement under
the arch, in order to conceal the fact that it had
been washed in one place, it occurred to them that
they should look on the stairs, to see if there
were any blood there, and in the courtyard, too,
near the entrance, but they could not find any-
thing, and it was time for the woman to go to the
place where she worked all day at ironing fine
linen, which had been her occupation before she
had been married. So she went away, leaving her
husband alone.

He smoked thoughtfully and swept the stone

XVI

THE HEART OF ROME 259

gutter, towards the other end of the courtyard.
He noticed nothing unusual, until he reached
the door of the coach-house, and saw that it
was ajar, whereas it was always locked, and he
had the key in his lodge. He opened it, and
looked in. The flood of morning light fell upon
a little heap of broken brick and mortar, and he
saw at a glance that a small breach had been made
in the wall. This did not surprise him, for he
knew that Malipieri and Masin had made holes
in more than one place, and the architect had
more than once taken the key of the coach-
house.

What frightened him was the steady, roaring
sound that came from the breach. He would as
soon have thought of trusting himself to enter the
place, as of facing the powers of darkness, even if
his big body could have squeezed itself through
the aperture. But he guessed that the sound
came from the 'lost water,' which he had more
than once heard in the cellar below, in its own
channel, and he was instinctively sure that some-
thing had happened which might endanger the
palace. The cellars were probably flooded.

On the mere chance that the door of the wind-
ing staircase might not be locked, he went out and
turned into the passage where it was. He found
it wide open. He had in his pocket one of those
long wax tapers rolled into a little ball, which
Roman porters generally have about them ; he lit
it and went down. There was water at the foot
of the steps, water several feet deep. He re-
treated, and with more haste than he usually

260 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

showed to do anything, he crossed the courtyard
and went up to call Malipieri.

But Malipieri was asleep in his armchair in the
inner room, and the bell only rang in the outer
hall. The old man rang it again and again, but
no one came.

Then he stood still on the landing, took off his
cap and deliberately scratched his head. In former
times, it would have been his duty to inform Sassi,
in whom centred every responsibility connected
with the palace. But the porter did not know
whether Sassi were dead or alive now, and was
quite sure that the Baron would not approve of
sending for him.

There was nothing to be done but to inform
the Baron himself, without delay, since Malipieri
was apparently already gone out. The Baron
would take the responsibility, since the house was
his.

The porter went down to his lodge, took off
his old linen jacket and put on his best coat and
cap, put some change into his pocket, went out
and turned the key of the lock in the postern, and
then stumped off towards the Piazza Sant' Apol-
linare to get a cab, for there was no time to be lost.

It was eight o'clock when he rang at the
smart new house in the Via Ludovisi. Sabina
and Malipieri had slept barely five hours.

A footman in an apron opened the door, and
without waiting to know his business, asked him
why he did not go to the servants' entrance.

' I live in a palace where there is a porter,'
answered the old man, assuming the overpowering

xvi THE HEART OF ROME 261

manner that belongs to the retainers of really great
old Roman houses. * Please inform the Baron that
the "lost water" has broken out and flooded the
cellars of the Palazzo Conti, and that I am waiting
for instructions.'

CHAPTER XVII

VOLTERRA went to bed early, but he did not rise
late, for he was always busy, and had many interests
that needed constant attention ; and he had pre-
served the habits of a man who had enriched
himself and succeeded in life by being wide wake
and at work when other people were napping or
amusing themselves. At eight o'clock in the
morning, he was already in his study, reading his
letters, and waiting for his secretary.

He sent for the porter, listened to his story
attentively, and without expressing any opinion
about what had happened, went directly to the
palace in the cab which had brought the old man.
He made the latter sit beside him, because it
would be an excellent opportunity of showing the
world that he was truly democratic. Half of
Rome knew him by sight at least, though not one
in twenty thousand could have defined his political
opinions.

At the palace he paid the cabman instead of
keeping him by the hour, for he expected to
stay some time, and it was against his principles
to spend a farthing for what he did not want.
As he entered through the postern, he glanced

262

CHAP, xv., THE HEART OF ROME 263

approvingly at the damp pavement. He did not
in the least believe that the porter washed it every
morning, of course, but he appreciated the fact
that the man evidently wished him to think so,
and was afraid of him.

'You say that you rang several times at
Signor Malipieri's door,' he said. 'Has he not
told you that he is going to live somewhere
else?'

'No, Sir.'

« Does he never leave his key with you when
he goes out ? '
« No, Sir.'

* Did you see him come in last night ? Was
he at home ? '

4 No, Sir. I rang several times, about dusk,
but no 'one opened. I did not hear him come in
after that. Shall I go up and ring again ? '

4 No.' Volterra reflected for a moment. •He
has left, and has taken his key by mistake,' he
said. 'But I should think that you must have
seen him go. He would have had some luggage

with him.'

The porter explained that Malipieri had sent
him on an errand on the previous afternoon, and
had been gone when he returned. This seemed
suspicious to Volterra, as indeed it must have
looked to any one. Considering his views of man-
kind generally, it was not surprising if he thought
that Malipieri might have absconded with some-
thing valuable which he had found in the vaults.
He remembered, too, that Malipieri had been
unwilling to let him visit the treasure on the

264 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

previous day, and had named the coming afternoon
instead.

' Can you get a man to open the door ? ' he
asked.

' There is Gigi, the carpenter of the palace,'
answered the porter. ' He is better than a lock-
smith and his shop is close by — but there is the
water in the cellars '

' Go and get him/ said the Baron. ' I will
wait here.'

The porter went out, and Volterra began to
walk slowly up and down under the archway,
breathing the morning air with satisfaction, and
jingling a little bunch of keys in his pocket.

There was a knock at the postern. He listened
and stood still. He knew that the porter had the
key, for he had just seen him return it to his
pocket after they had both come in ; he did not
wish to be disturbed by any one else just then, so
he neither answered nor moved. The knock was
repeated, louder than before. It had an authori-
tative sound, and no one but Malipieri himself
would have a right to knock in that way. Volterra
went to the door at once, but did not open it.

* Who is there ? ' he asked, through the heavy
panel.

' The police,' came the answer, short and sharp.
' Open at once.'

Volterra opened, and was confronted by a man
in plain clothes who was accompanied by two
soldiers in grey uniforms, and another man, who
looked like a cabman. On seeing a gentleman,
the detective, who had been about to enter un-

xvn THE HEART OF ROME 265

ceremoniously, checked himself and raised his hat,
with an apology. Volterra stepped back.

'Come in,' he said, 'and tell me what your
business is. I am the owner of this palace, at
present. I am Baron Volterra, and a Senator.'

The men all became very polite at once, and
entered rather sheepishly. The cabman came in
last and Volterra shut the door.

' Who is this individual ? * he asked, looking at
the cabman.

' Tell your story,' said the man in plain clothes,
addressing the latter.

' I am a coachman, Excellency,' the man
answered in a servile tone. ' I have a cab,
number eight hundred and seventy-six, at the
service of your Excellency, and it was I who
drove the gentleman to the hospital yesterday
afternoon.'

* What gentleman ? '

' The gentleman who was hurt in the house of
your Excellency.'

Volterra stared from the cabman to the man
in plain clothes, not understanding. Then it
occurred to him that the men in uniform might
be wearing it as a disguise, and that he had to do
with a party of clever thieves, and he felt for a
little revolver which he always carried about with
him.

' I know nothing about the matter,' he said.

* Excellency,' continued the cabman, ' the poor
gentleman was lying here, close to the door,
bleeding from his head. You see the porter has
washed the stones this morning.'

266 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

* Go on.' Volterra listened attentively.

' A big man who looked more like a workman
than a servant came to call me in the square.
When we got here, he unlocked the door himself,
and made me help him to put the gentleman
into the cab. It was about half-past five or a
quarter to six, Excellency, and I waited at the
hospital door till eight o'clock, but could not get
any money.'

' What became of the big man who called you ? *
asked Volterra. ' Why did he not pay you ? '

* He was arrested, Excellency/

* Arrested ? Why ? For taking a wounded
man to the hospital.'

' Yes. You can imagine that I did not wish
to be concerned in other people's troubles, Ex-
cellency, nor to be asked questions. So when I
had seen the man and the doorkeepers take the
gentleman in, I drove on about twenty paces, and
waited for the man to come out. But soon two
policemen came and went in, and came out again
a few minutes later with the big man walking
quietly between them, and they went off in the
other direction, so that he did not even notice me.'

' What did you do then ? '

* May it please your Excellency, I went back
to the door and asked the doorkeeper why the
man had been arrested, and told him I had not
been paid. But he laughed in my face, and ad-
vised me to go to the police for my fare, since the
police had taken the man away. And I asked
him many questions but he drove me away with
several evil words.'

THE HEART OF ROME 267

* Is that all that happened ? * asked Volterra.
1 Do you know nothing more ? '

* Nothing, your Excellency,' whined the man,
' and I am a poor father of a family with eight
children, and my wife is ill '

* Yes,' interrupted Volterra, * I suppose so.
And what do you know about it all ? ' he inquired,
turning to the man in plain clothes.

* This, Sir. The gentleman was still uncon-
scious this morning, but turns out to be a certain
Signer Pompeo Sassi. His cards were in his pocket-
book. The man who took him to the hospital
was arrested because he entirely declined to give
his name, or to explain what had happened, or
where he had found the wounded gentleman. Of
course all the police stations were informed during
the night, as the affair seemed mysterious, and
when this cabman came this morning and lodged
a complaint of not having been paid for a rare
from this palace to the hospital, it looked as if
whatever had happened, must have happened
here, or near here, and I was sent to make
inquiries.'

'That is perfectly clear,' the Baron said,
taking out his pocket-book. 'You have no
complaint to make, except that you were not
paid,' he continued, speaking to the cabman.
* There are ten francs, which is much more than
is owing to you. Give me your number.'

The man knew that it was useless to ask for
more, and as he produced his printed number and
gave it, he implored the most complicated bene-
dictions, even to miracles, including a thousand

268 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

years of" life and everlasting salvation afterwards,
all for the Baron, his family, and his descendants.

* I suppose he may go now,' Volterra said to
the police officer.

The cabman would have liked to stay, but one
of the soldiers opened the postern and stood
waiting by it till he had gone out, and closed it
upon his parting volley of blessings. The Senator
reflected that they might mean a vote, some day,
and did not regret his ten francs.

* I know Signer Sassi,' he said to the detective.
* He was the agent of Prince Conti's estate, and
of this palace. But I did not know that he had
been here yesterday afternoon. I live in the Via
Ludovisi and had just come here on business, when
you knocked.'

He was very affable now, and explained the
porter's absence, and the fact that a gentleman
who had lived in the house, but had left it, had
accidentally taken his key with him, so that it was
necessary to get a workman to open the door.

' And it is as well that you should be here,' he
added, ' for the big man of whom the cabman
spoke may be the servant of that gentleman. I
remember seeing him once, and I noticed that he
was unusually big. He may have been here yester-
day after his master left, and we may find some
clue in the apartment.'

' Excellent ! ' said the detective, rubbing his
hands.

He was particularly fond of cases in which
doors had to be opened by force, and understood
that part of his business thoroughly.

XVII

THE HEART OF ROME 269

The key turned in the lock of the postern, and
the porter entered, bringing Gigi with him. They
both started and turned pale when they saw the
policeman and the detective.

* At what time did Signer Malipieri send you
out on that errand yesterday afternoon ? ' asked
Volterra looking hard at the porter.

The old man drew himself up, wiped his fore-
head with a blue cotton handkerchief, and looked
from the Baron to the detective, trying to make
out whether his employer wished him to speak the
truth. A moment's reflection told him that he had
better do so, as the visit of the police must be
connected with the stain of blood he had washed
from the pavement, and he could prove that he
had nothing to do with it.

* It was about five o'clock,' he answered quietly.

* And when did you come back ? ' enquired the
detective.

* It was dusk. It was after Ave Maria, for I
heard the bells ringing before I got here.'

* And you did not notice the blood on the
stones when you came in, because it was dusk, I
suppose,' said the detective, assuming a knowing
smile, as if he had caught the man.

' I saw it this morning,' answered the porter
without hesitation, ' and I washed it away.'

'You should have called the police,' said the
other, severely. .

•Should I, Sir?' The porter affected great
politeness all at once. 'You will excuse my
ignorance.'

' We are wasting time,' Volterra said to the

2yo THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

detective. ' The porter knows nothing about it.
Let us go upstairs.'

He led the way, and the others followed, in-
cluding Gigi, who carried a leathern bag containing
a few tools.

* It is of no use to ring again,' observed Volterra.
* There cannot be anybody in the apartment, and
this is my own house. Open that door for us, my
man, and do as little damage as you can.'

Gigi looked at the patent lock.

' I cannot pick that, Sir,' he said. ' The gentle-
man made me put it on for him, and it is one of
those American patent locks/

' Break it, then,' Volterra answered.

Gigi selected a strong chisel, and inserted the
blade in the crack of the door, on a level with the
brass disk. He found the steel bolt easily.

* Take care,' he said to the Baron, who was
nearest to him and drew back to give him room
to swing his hammer.

He struck three heavy blows, and the door
flew open at the third. The detective had looked
at his watch, for it was his business to note the
hour at which any forcible entrance was made. It
was twenty minutes to nine. Malipieri and Sabina
had slept a little more than five hours and a half.

Malipieri, still sleeping heavily in his armchair,
heard the noise in a dream. He fancied he was
in the vaults again, driving his crowbar into the
bricks, and that he suddenly heard Masin working
from the other side. But Masin was not alone,
for there were voices, and he had several people
with him.

XVII

THE HEART OF ROME 271

Malipieri awoke with a violent start. Volterra,
the detective, the two police soldiers, Gigi and the
porter were all in the study, looking at him as he
sat there in his armchair, in the broad light,
carefully dressed as if he had been about to go
out when he had sat down.

'You sleep soundly, Signer Malipieri,' said
the fat Baron, with a caressing smile.

Malipieri had good nerves, but for a moment
he was dazed, and then, perhaps for the first time
in his life, he was thoroughly frightened, for he
knew that Sabina must be still asleep in his room,
and in spite of his urgent request when he had
left her, he did not believe that she had locked
the door after all. The first thought that flashed
upon him was that Volterra had somehow dis-
covered that she was there, and had come to find
her. There were six men in the room, he guessed
that the Baron was one of those people who carry
revolvers about with them, and two of the others
were police soldiers, also armed with revolvers.
He was evidently at their mercy. Short of
throwing at least three of the party out of the
window, nothing could avail. Such things are
done without an effort on the stage by the merest
wisp of a man, but in real life one must be a
Hercules or a gladiator even to attempt them.
Malipieri thought of what Sabina had said in the
vault. Had any two people ever been in such a
situation before ?

For one instant, his heart stood still, and he
passed his hand over his eyes.

'Excuse me,' he said then, quite naturally.

272 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

' I had dressed to go to your house this morning,
and I fell asleep in my chair while waiting till it
should be time. How did you get in? And
why have you brought these people with you ? '

He was perfectly cool now, and the Baron
regretted that he had made a forcible entrance.

' I must really apologise,' he answered. ' The
porter rang yesterday evening, several times, and
again this morning, but could get no answer, and
as you had told me that you were going to change
your quarters, we supposed that you had left and
had accidentally taken the key with you.'

Malipieri did not believe a word of what he
said, but the tone was very apologetic.

' The cellars are flooded,' said the porter,
speaking over Volterra's shoulder.

' I know it,' Malipieri answered. ' I was going
to inform you of that this morning,' he continued,
speaking to the Baron. ' I do not think that the
police are necessary to our conversation,' he added,
smiling at the detective.

* I beg your pardon, Sir,' answered the latter,
' but we are here to ask if you know anything of
a grave accident to a certain Signor Sassi, who was
taken from this palace unconscious, yesterday
afternoon, at about a quarter to six, by a very
large man, who would not give any name, nor
any explanation, and who was consequently
arrested.'

Malipieri did not hesitate.

' Only this much,' he replied. ' With the
authority of the Senator here, who is the owner of
the palace, I have been making some archaeological

THE HEART OF ROME 273

excavations in the cellars. Signer Sassi was the

agent '

* I have explained that,' interrupted the Baron,
turning to the detective. * I will assume the
whole responsibility of this affair. Signor Sassi
shall be well cared for. I shall be much obliged
if you will leave us.'

He spoke rather hurriedly.

' It is my duty to make a search in order to
discover the motive of the crime,' said the detec-
tive with importance.

* What crime ? ' asked Malipieri with sudden
sternness.

'Signer Sassi was very badly injured in this
palace,' answered the other. ' The man who took
him to the hospital would give no account of
himself, and the circumstances are suspicious.
The Baron thinks that the man may be your
servant.'

'Yes, he is my servant,' Malipieri said.
'Signer Sassi was trying to follow me into the
excavations '

' Yes, yes — that is of no importance,' interrupted
Volterra.

« I think it is,' retorted Malipieri. ' I will not
let any man remain in prison suspected of haying
tried to murder poor old Sassi ! I went on,' he
continued, explaining to the detective, « leaving
the two together. The old gentleman must have
fallen and hurt himself so badly that my man
thought it necessary to carry him out at once.
When I tried to get back, I found that the water
had risen in the excavations and that the passage

T

274 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

was entirely closed, and I had to work all night
with a crowbar and pickaxe to break another
way for myself. As for my man, if he refused
to give any explanations, it was because he had
express orders to preserve the utmost secrecy
about the excavations. He is a faithful fellow,
and he obeyed. That is all.'

* A very connected account, Sir, from your point
of view,' said the detective. ' If you will allow
me, I will write it down. You see, the service
requires us to note everything.'

' Write it down by all means,' Malipieri answered
quietly. ' You will find what you need at that
table.'

The detective sat down, pulled back the cuff of
his coat, took up the pen and began his report
with a magnificent flourish.

c You two may go,' said Malipieri to the porter
and Gigi. * We shall not want you any more.'

' As witnesses, perhaps,' said the detective, over-
hearing. * Pray let them stay.'

He went on writing, and the Baron settled
himself in Malipieri's armchair, and lit a cigar.
Malipieri walked slowly up and down the room,
determined to keep perfectly cool.

' I hope the Baroness is quite well,' he said,
after a time.

* Quite well, thank you,' answered Volterra,
nodding and smiling.

Malipieri continued to pace the floor, trying to
see some way out of the situation in which he was
caught, and praying to heaven that Sabina might
still be sound asleep. If she were up, she would

xvn THE HEART OF ROME 275

certainly come to the study in search of him before
long, as the doors opened in no other direction.
All his nerves and faculties were strung to the
utmost tension, and if the worst came he was pre-
pared to attempt anything.

* It is a very fine day after the rain,' observed
the Baron, presently.

' It never rains long in Rome, in the spring,'
answered Malipieri.

The detective wrote steadily, and neither spoke
again till he had finished.

* Of course,' he said to Malipieri, ' you are
quite sure of your statements.'

* Provided that you have written down exactly
what I said,' Malipieri answered.

The detective rose and handed him the sheets,
at which he glanced rapidly.

* Yes. That is what I said.'

* Let me see,' Volterra put in, rising and hold-
ing out his hand.

He took the paper and read every word care-
fully, before he returned the manuscript.

* You might add,' he said, * that I have been
most anxious to keep the excavations a secret
because I do not wish to be pestered by reporters
before I have handed over to the government any
discoveries which may be made.'

* Certainly,' answered the man, taking his pen
again, and writing rapidly.

Volterra was almost as anxious to get rid of
him as Malipieri himself. What the latter had
said had informed him that in spite of the water
the vaults could be reached, and he was in

276 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

haste to go down. He had, indeed, noted the
fact that whereas Sabina had left his house with
Sassi at five o'clock, the latter had been taken to
the hospital only three-quarters of an hour later,
and he wondered where she could be ; but it did
not even occur to him as possible that she should
be in Malipieri's apartment. The idea would have
seemed preposterous.

The detective rose, folded the sheets of paper
and placed them in a large pocket-book which he
produced.

' And now, gentlemen,' he said, ' we have only
one more formality to fulfil, before I have the
honour of taking my leave.'

' What is that ? ' asked the Baron, beginning to
show his impatience at last.

' Sign or Malipieri — is that your name, Sir ?
Yes. Signer Malipieri will be kind enough to let
me and my men walk through the rooms of the
apartment.'

' I think that is quite unnecessary,' Malipieri
answered. ' By this time Signer Sassi has probably
recovered consciousness, and has told his own story,
which will explain the accident.'

' In the performance of my duty,' objected the
detective, ' I must go through the house, to see
whether there are any traces of blood. I am sure
that you will make no opposition.'

Fate was closing in upon Malipieri, but he kept
his head as well as he could. He opened the door
that led back to the hall.

' Will you come ? ' he said, showing the
way.

THE HEART OF ROME 277

The detective glanced at the other door, but
said nothing and prepared to follow.

* I will stay here,' said the Baron, settling him-
self in the armchair again.

4 Oh no ! Pray come,' Malipien said,
should like you to see for yourself that Sassi was
not hurt here.'

Volterra rose reluctantly and went with the
rest. His chief preoccupation was to get rid of
the detective and his men as quickly as possible.
Malipieri opened the doors as he went along, and
showed several empty rooms, before he came to

Masin's.

'This is where my man sleeps, he said

carelessly.

The detective went in, looked about and
denly pounced upon a towel on which there were
stains of blood.

< What is this?' he asked sharply. 'What is
the meaning of this ? '

Malipieri showed his scarred hands.

' After I got out of the vault, I washed here,
he said. * I had cut my hands a good deal, as you
see. Of course the blood came off on the towels.

The detective assumed his smile of professional

cunning.

'I understand,' he said. 'But^do you gener-
ally wash in your servant's room ? '

'No. It happened to be convenient when 1
got in. There was water here, and there were

towels.'

' It is strange,' said the detective.

Even Volterra looked curiously at Malipieri,

278 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

for he was much puzzled. But he was impatient,
too, and came to the rescue.

' Do you not see,' he asked of the detective,
* that Signor Malipieri was covered with dust and
that his clothes were very wet ? There they are,
lying on the floor. He did not wish to go to his
bedroom as he was, taking all that dirt and damp-
ness with him, so he came here.'

' That is a sufficient explanation, I am sure,'
said Malipieri.

' Perfectly, perfectly,' answered the detective,
smiling. ' Wrap up those towels in a newspaper,'
he said to the two soldiers. ' We will take them
with us. You see,' he continued in an apologetic
tone, ' we are obliged to be very careful in the
execution of our duties. If Signor Sassi should un-
fortunately die in the hospital, and especially if he
should die unconscious, the matter would become
very serious, and I should be blamed if I had not
made a thorough examination.'

' I hope he is not so seriously injured,' said
Malipieri.

4 The report we received was that his skull was
fractured,' answered the detective calmly. * The
hospitals report all suspicious cases to the police
stations by telephone during the night, and of
course, as your man refused to speak, special
inquiries were made about the wounded gentleman.'

* I understand/ said Malipieri. ' And now, I
suppose, you have made a sufficient search.'

' We have not seen your own room. If you
will show me that, as a mere formality, I think I
need not trouble you any further.'

xvn THE HEART OF ROME 279

It had come at last. Malipieri felt himself
growing cold, and said nothing for a moment.
Volterra again began to watch him curiously.

' I fancy,' the detective said, * that your room
opens from the study in which we have already
been. I only wish to look in.'

* There is a small room before it, where I keep
my clothes.'

' I suppose we can go through the small
room ? '

* You may see that,' said Malipieri, * but I shall
not allow you to go into my bedroom.'

* How very strange ! ' cried Volterra, staring at
him.

Then the fat Baron broke into a laugh, that
made his watch-chain dance on his smooth and
rotund speckled waistcoat.

* I see ! I see ! ' he tried to say.

The detective understood, and smiled in a sub-
dued way. Malipieri knit his brows angrily, as
he felt himself becoming more and more utterly
powerless to stave off the frightful catastrophe that
threatened Sabina. But the detective was anxious
to make matters pleasant by diplomatic means.

' I had not been told that Signer Malipieri was
a married man,' he said. ' Of course, if the Signora
Malipieri is not yet visible, I shall be delighted to
give her time to dress.'

Malipieri bit his lip and made a few steps up
and down.

' I did not know that your wife was in Rome,'
Volterra said, glancing at him, and apparently con-
firming the detective in his mistake.

280 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

' For that matter/ said the detective, ' I am a
married man myself, and if the lady is in bed, she
might allow me to merely stand at the door, and
glance in.'

* I think she is still asleep,' Malipieri answered.
' I do not like to disturb her, and the room is
quite dark.'

* My time is at your disposal,' said the detec-
tive. ' Shall we go back and wait in the study ?
You would perhaps be so kind as to see whether
the Signora is awake or not, but I am quite ready
to wait till she comes out of her room. I would
not put her to any inconvenience for the world, I
assure you.'

' Really,' the Baron said to Malipieri, c I think
you might wake her.'

The soldiers looked on stolidly, the porter kept
his eyes and ears open, and Gigi, full of curiosity,
wore the expression of a smiling weasel. To the
porter's knowledge, so far as it went, no woman
but his own wife had entered the palace since
Malipieri had been living in it.

Malipieri made no answer to Vol terra's last
speech, and walked up and down, seeking a solu-
tion. The least possible one seemed to be that
suggested by the Baron himself. The latter,
though now very curious, was more than ever in
a hurry to bring the long enquiry to a close. It
occurred to him that it would simplify matters if
he and Malipieri and the detective were left alone
together, and he said so, urging that as there was
unexpectedly a lady in the case, the presence of so
many witnesses should be avoided. Even now he

THE HEART OF ROME 281

never thought of the possibility that the lady in
question might be Sabina.

The detective now yielded the point willingly
enough, and the soldiers were sent off with Gigi
and the porter to wait in the latter's lodge. It
was a slight relief to Malipieri to see them go.
He and his two companions went back to the
study together.

The Baron resumed his seat in the armchair ;
he always sat down when he had time, and he had
not yet finished his big cigar. The detective went
to the window and looked out through the panes,
as if to give Malipieri time to make up his
mind what to do ; and Malipieri paced the floor
with bent head, his hands in his pockets, in utter
desperation. At any moment Sabina might appear,
yet he dared not even go to her door, lest the two
men should follow him.

But at least he could prevent her from coming
in, for he could lock the entrance to the small
room. As he reached the end of his walk he
turned the key and put it into his pocket. The
detective turned round sharply and Volterra moved
his head at the sound.

* Why do you do that ? ' he asked, in a tone of
annoyance.

* Because no one shall go in, while I have the
key,' Malipieri answered.

4 1 must go in, sooner or later,' said the
detective. *I can wait all day, and all night, it
you please, for I shall not use force where a lady
is concerned. But I must see that room.'

Like all such men, he was obstinate, when he

282 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

believed that he was doing his duty. Malipieri
looked from him to Volterra, and back again, and
suddenly made up his mind. He preferred the
detective, of the two, if he must trust any one, the
more so as the latter probably did not know Sabina
by sight.

4 If you will be so kind as to stay there, in that
armchair/ he said to Volterra, ' I will see what I
can do to hasten matters. Will you ? '

* Certainly. I am very comfortable here.' The
Baron laughed a little.

* Then,' said Malipieri, turning to the detective,
' kindly come with me, and I will explain as far as
I can.'

He took the key from his pocket again, and
opened the door of the small room, let in the
detective and shut it after him without locking it.
He had hardly made up his mind what to say, but
he knew what he wished.

4 This is a very delicate affair,' he began in a
whisper. ' I will see whether the lady is awake.'

He went to the door of the bedroom on tiptoe
and listened. Not a sound reached him. The
room was quite out of hearing of the rest of the
apartment, and Sabina, accustomed as she was to
sleep eight hours without waking, was still resting
peacefully. Malipieri came back noiselessly.

' She is asleep,' he whispered. * Will you not
take my word for it that there is nothing to be
found in the room which can have the least con-
nection with Sassi's accident ? '

The detective shook his head gravely, and raised
his eyebrows, while he shut his eyes, as some men

xvn THE HEART OF ROME 283

do when they mean that nothing can convince
them.

* I advise you to go in and wake your wife,'
he whispered, still very politely. ' She can wrap
herself up and sit in a chair while I look in.'

' That is impossible. I cannot go in and wake
her.'

The detective looked surprised, and was silent
for a moment.

* This is a very strange situation,' he muttered.
*A man who dares not go into his wife's room
when she is asleep — I do not understand.'

* I cannot explain,' answered Malipieri, * but it
is altogether impossible. I ask you to believe me,
on my oath, that you will find nothing in the
room.'

' I have already told you, Sir, that I must fulfil
the formalities, whatever I may wish to believe.
And it is my firm belief that Signor Sassi came by
the injuries of which he may possibly die, some-
where in this apartment, yesterday afternoon. My
reputation is at stake, and I am a government
servant. To oblige you, I will wait an hour, but
if the lady is not awake then, I shall go and knock
at that door and call until she answers. It would
be simpler if you would do it yourself. That is
all, and you must take your choice.'

Malipieri saw that he must wake Sabina, and
explain to her through the door that she must
dress. He reflected a moment, and was about to
ask the detective to go back to the study, when a
sound of voices came from that direction, and one
was a woman's.

284 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP, xvn

' It seems that there is another lady in the
house,' said the detective. ' Perhaps she can help
us. Surely you will allow a lady to enter your
wife's room and wake her.'

But Malipieri was speechless at that moment
and was leaning stupidly against the jamb of the
study door. He had recognised the voice of the
Baroness talking excitedly with her husband. Fate
had caught him now, and there was no escape.
Instinctively, he was sure that the Baroness had
come in search of Sabina, and would not leave the
house till she had found her, do what he might.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE Baroness had been called to the telephone
five minutes after Volterra had gone out with the
porter, leaving word that he was going to the
Palazzo Conti and would be back within two
hours. The message she received was from the
Russian Embassy, and informed her that the
Dowager Princess Conti had arrived at midnight,
was the guest of the Ambassador, and wished her
daughter Sabina to come and see her between
eleven and twelve o'clock. In trembling tones
the Baroness had succeeded in saying that Sabina
should obey, and had rung off the connexion at
once. Then, for the first time in her life, she
had felt for a moment as if she were going to
faint.

The facts, which were unknown to her, were
simple enough. The Ambassador had been in-
formed that a treasure had been discovered, and
had telegraphed the fact in cypher to the Minister
of Foreign Affairs in Saint Petersburg, who had
telegraphed the news to Prince Rubomirsky, who
had telegraphed to the Ambassador, who was his
intimate friend, requesting him to receive the
Princess for a few days. As the Prince and his

285

286 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

sister were already in the country, in Poland, not
far from the Austrian frontier, it had not taken
her long to reach Rome. Of all this, the poor
Baroness was in ignorance. The one fact stared
her in the face, that the Princess had come to claim
Sabina, and Sabina had disappeared.

She had learned that the porter had come to
say that the cellars of the Palazzo Conti were
flooded, and she knew that her husband would be
there some time. She found Sassi's card, on which
his address was printed, and she drove there in a
cab, climbed the stairs and rang the bell. The
old woman who opened was in terrible trouble,
and was just going out. She showed the Baroness
the news of Sassi's mysterious accident shortly
given in a paragraph of the Messaggero, the little
morning paper which is universally read greedily
by the lower classes. She was just going to the
accident hospital, the " Consolazione," to see her
poor master. He had gone out at half past four
on the previous afternoon, and she had sat up all
night, hoping that he would come in. She was
quite sure that he had not returned at all after he
had gone out. She was quite sure, too, that he
had been knocked down and robbed, for he had
a gold watch and chain, and always carried money
in his pocket.

The Baroness looked at her, and saw that she
was speaking the truth and was in real distress.
It would be quite useless to search the rooms for
Sabina. The old woman-servant had no idea who
the Baroness was, and in her sudden trouble would
certainly have confided to her that there was a

THE HEART OF ROME 287

young lady in the house, who had not been able
to get home.

* For the love of heaven, Signora,' she cried,
'come with me to the hospital, if you know him,
for he may be dying.'

The Baroness promised to go later, and really
intended to do so. She drove to the convent in
which Donna Clementina was now a cloistered
nun, and asked the portress whether Donna
Sabina Conti had been to see her sister on the
previous day. The portress answered that she
had not, and was quite positive of the fact. The
Baroness looked at her watch and hastened to the
Palazzo Conti. When she got there, the porter
had already returned to his lodge, and he led her
upstairs and to the door of the study.

Finding her husband alone, she explained what
was the matter, in a few words and in a low
voice. The Princess had come back, and wished
to see Sabina that very morning, and Sabina
could not be found. She sank into a chair, and
her sallow face expressed the utmost fright and
perplexity.

'Sassi left our house at five o'clock with
Sabina,' said the Baron, ' and at a quarter to six
he was taken from the door of this palace to the
hospital by Malipieri's man. Either Malipieri or
his man must have seen her.'

' She is here ! ' cried the Baroness in a loud
tone, something of the truth flashing upon her.
' I know she is here ! '

Volterra's mind worked rapidly at the possi-
bility, as at a problem. If his wife were not

288 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

mistaken it was easy to explain Malipieri's flat
refusal to let any one enter the bedroom.

* You may be right,' he said, rising. ' If she
is in the palace she is in the room beyond that
one.' He pointed to the door. ' You must go
in,' he said. ' Never mind Malipieri. I will
manage him.'

At that moment the door opened. Malipieri
had recovered his senses enough to attempt a final
resistance, and stood there, very pale, ready for
anything.

But the fat Baron knew what he was about, and
as he came forward with his wife he suddenly
thrust out his hand at Malipieri's head, and the
latter saw down the barrel of a heavy bulldog
revolver.

'You must let my wife pass,' cried Volterra,
coolly, ' or I will shoot you.'

Malipieri was as active as a sailor. In an
instant he had hurled himself, bending low, at the
Baron's knees, and the fat man fell over him,
while the revolver flew from his hand, half across
the room, fortunately not going ofF as it fell on its
side. While Malipieri was struggling to get the
upper hand, the detective ran forward and helped
Volterra. The two threw themselves upon the
younger man, and between the detective's wiry
strength and the Baron's tremendous weight, he Jay
panting and powerless on his back for an instant.

The Baroness had possibly assisted at some
scenes of violence in the course of her husband's
checkered career. At all events, she did not stop
to see what happened after the way was clear, but

xvm THE HEART OF ROME 289

ran to the door of the bedroom, and threw it wide
open, for it was not locked. The light that entered
showed her where the window was ; she opened it
in an instant, and looked round.

Sabina was sitting up in bed, staring at her with
a dazed expression, her hair in wild confusion round
her pale face and falling over her bare neck. Her
clothes lay in a heap on the floor, beside the
bed. Never was any woman more fairly caught
in a situation impossible to explain. Even in that
first moment, she felt it, when she looked at the
Baroness's face.

The latter did not speak, for she was utterly
incapable of finding words. The sound of a
scuffle could be heard from the study in the
distance ; she quietly shut the door and turned
the key. Then she came and stood by the bed,
facing the window. Sabina had sunk back upon
the pillows, but her eyes looked up bravely and
steadily. Of the two she was certainly the one
less disturbed, even then, for she remembered that
Malipieri had meant to go and tell the Baroness
the whole truth, early in the morning. He had
done so, of course, and the Baroness had come to
take her back, very angry of course, but that was
all. This was what Sabina told herself, but
she guessed that matters would turn out much
worse.

* Did he tell you how it happened that I could
not get home ? ' she asked, almost calmly.

* No one has told me anything. Your mother
arrived in Rome last night. She is at the Russian
Embassy and wishes to see you at eleven o'clock.'

290 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

' My mother ? ' Sabina raised herself on one
hand in surprise.

* Yes. And I find you here.'

The Baroness folded her arms like a man, her
brows contracted, and her face was almost livid.

' Have you the face to meet your mother, after
this ? ' she asked, sternly.

4 Yes — of course,' answered Sabina. ' But I must
go home and dress. My frock is ruined.'

1 You are a brazen creature,' said the Baroness
in disgust and anger. ' You do not seem to know
what shame means.'

Sabina's deep young eyes flashed ; it was not
safe to say such things to her.

* I have done nothing to be ashamed of,' she
answered, proudly, * and you shall not speak to
me like that. Do you understand ? '

* Nothing to be ashamed of ! ' The Baroness
stared at her in genuine amazement. ' Nothing to
be ashamed of ! ' she repeated, and her voice shook
with emotion. * You leave my house by stealth,
you let no one know where you are going,
and the next morning I find you here, in your
lover's house, in your lover's room, the door not
even locked, your head upon your lover's pillow !
Nothing to be ashamed of ! Merciful heavens !
And you have not only ruined yourself, but you
have done an irreparable injury to honest people
who took you in when you were starving ! '

The poor woman paused for breath, and in her
horror, she hid her face in her hands. She had
her faults no doubt, and she knew that the world
was bad, but she had never dreamt of such bare-

xviu THE HEART OF ROME 291

faced and utterly monstrous cynicism as Sabina's.
If the girl had been overcome with shame and
repentance, and had broken down entirely, im-
ploring help and forgiveness, as would have seemed
natural, the Baroness, for her own social sake,
might have been at last moved to help her out
of her trouble. Instead, being a person of rigid
virtue and judging the situation in the only way
really possible for her to see it, she was both dis-
gusted and horrified. It was no wonder. But
she was not prepared for Sabina's answer.

' If I were strong enough, I would kill you,'
said the young girl, quietly laying her head on
the pillow again.

The Baroness laughed hysterically. She felt
as if she were in the presence of the devil himself.
She was not at all a hysterical woman nor often
given to dramatic exhibitions of feeling, but she
had never dreamt that a human being could behave
with such horribly brazen shamelessness.

For some moments there was silence. Then
Sabina spoke, in a quietly scornful tone, while the
Baroness turned her back on her and stood quite
still, looking out of the window.

' I suppose you have a right to be surprised,'
Sabina said, ' but you have no right to insult me
and say things that are not true. Perhaps Signer
Malipieri likes me very much. I do not know.
He has never told me he loved me.'

The Baroness's large figure shook with fury,
but she did not turn round. What more was the
girl going to say ? That she did not even care a
little for the man with whom she had ruined

292 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

herself? Yes. That was what she was going on
to explain. It was beyond belief.

' I have only seen him a few times,' Sabina said.
' I daresay I shall be very fond of him if I see
him often. I think he is very like my ideal of
what a man should be.'

The Baroness turned her face half round with
an expression that was positively savage. But she
said nothing, and again looked through the panes.
She remembered afterwards that the room smelt
slightly of stale cigar smoke, soap and leather.

* He wished me to see the things he has found
before any one else should,' Sabina continued.
' So he got Sassi to bring me here. While we
were in the vaults, the water came, and we could
not get out. He worked for hours to break a
hole, and it was two o'clock in the morning when
we were free. I had not had any dinner, and of
course I could not go with him to your house at
that hour, even if I had not been worn out. So
he brought me here and gave me something to
eat, and his room to sleep in. As for the door
not being locked, he told me twice to lock it, and
I was so sleepy that I forgot to. That is what
happened.'

After an ominous silence, the Baroness turned
round. Her face was almost yellow now.

' I do not believe a word you have told me,'
she said, half choking.

* Then go ! ' cried Sabina, sitting up with flash-
ing eyes. ' I do not care a straw whether you
believe the truth or not ! Go ! Go ! '

She stretched out one straight white arm and

THE HEART OF ROME 293

pointed to the door, in wrath. The Baroness
looked at her, and stood still a moment. Then she
shrugged her shoulders in a manner anything but
aristocratic, and left the room without deigning to
turn her head. The instant she was gone, Sabina
sprang out of bed and locked the door after
her.

Meanwhile, the struggle between Malipieri and
his two adversaries had come to an end very soon.
Malipieri had not really expected to prevent the
Baroness from going to Sabina, but he had wished
to try and explain matters to her before she went.
He had upset Volterra, because the latter had
pointed a revolver at his head, which will seem a
sufficient reason to most hot-tempered men. The
detective had suggested putting handcuffs on
him, while they held him down, but Volterra was
anxious to settle matters amicably.

' It was my fault,' he said, drawing back. * I
thought that you were going to resist, and I
pulled out my pistol too soon. I offer you all my
apologies/

He had got to his feet with more alacrity than
might have been expected of such a fat man, and
was adjusting his collar and tie, and smoothing his
waistcoat over his rotundity. Malipieri had risen
the moment he was free. The detective looked as
if nothing had happened out of the common way,
and the neatness of his appearance was not in the
least disturbed.

' I offer you my apologies, Signer Malipieri,'
repeated the Baron cordially and smiling in a
friendly way. * I should not have drawn my

294 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

pistol on you. I presume you will accept the
excuses I make ? '

4 Do not mention the matter,' answered Mali-
pieri with coolness, but civilly enough, seeing that
there was nothing else to be done. ' I trust you
are none the worse for your fall.'

* Not at all, not at all,' replied Volterra. * I
hope,' he said, turning to the detective, * that you
will say nothing about this incident, since no harm
has been done. It concerns a private matter, I
may almost say, a family matter. I have some
little influence, and if I can be of any use to you,
I shall always be most happy.'

The gratitude of so important a personage was
not to be despised, as the detective knew. He
produced a card bearing his name, and handed it
to the Senator with a bow.

* Always at your service, Sir,' he said. ' It is
very fortunate that the revolver did not go off and
hurt one of us,' he added, picking up the weapon
and handing it to Volterra. * I have noticed that
these things almost invariably kill the wrong person,
when they kill anybody at all, which is rare.'

Volterra smiled, thanked him and returned the
revolver to his pocket. Malipieri had watched
the two in silence. Fate had taken matters out of
his hands, and there was absolutely nothing to be
done. In due time, Sabina would come out with
the Baroness, but he could not guess what would
happen then. Volterra would probably not speak
out before the detective, who would not recognize
Sabina, even if he knew her by sight. The
Baroness would take care that he should not see

xviii THE HEART OF ROME 295

the girl's face, as both Volterra and Malipieri
knew.

The three men sat down and waited in silence
after the detective had last spoken. Volterra lit a
fresh cigar, and offered one to the detective a few
moments later. The latter took it with a bow
and put it into his pocket for a future occasion.

The door opened at last, and the Baroness
entered, her face discoloured to a blotchy yellow-
ness by her suppressed anger. She stood still
a moment after she had come in, and glared
at Malipieri. He and the detective rose, but
Volterra kept his seat.

* Were you right, my dear ? * the latter en-
quired, looking at her.

'Yes,' she answered in a thick voice, turning
to him for an instant, and then glaring at Mali-
pieri again, as if she could hardly keep her hands
from him in her righteous anger.

He saw clearly enough that she had not
believed the strange story which Sabina must have
told her, and he wondered whether any earthly
power could possibly make her believe it in spite
of herself. During the moments of silence that
followed, the whole situation rose before him, in
the only light under which it could at first appear
to any ordinary person. It was frightful to think
that what had been a bit of romantic quixotism
on his part, in wishing Sabina to see the statues
which should have been hers, should end in her
social disgrace, perhaps in her utter ruin if the
Baroness and her husband could not be mollified.
He did not know that there was one point in

296 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

Sabina's favour, in the shape of the Princess's
sudden return to Rome, though he guessed the
Baroness's character well enough to have fore-
seen, had he known of the new complication, that
she would swallow her pride and even overlook
Sabina's supposed misdeeds, rather than allow the
Princess to accuse her of betraying her trust and
letting the young girl ruin herself.

' I must consult with you,' the Baroness said
to her husband, controlling herself as she came
forward into the room and passed Malipieri. * We
cannot talk here,' she added, glancing at the
detective.

' This gentleman,' said Volterra waving his
hand towards the latter, ' is here officially, to make
an enquiry about Sassi's accident.'

' I shall be happy to wait outside if you have
private matters to discuss,' said the detective, who
wished to show himself worthy of the Baron's
favour, if he could do so without neglecting his
duties.

' You are extremely obliging,' Volterra said, in
a friendly tone.

The detective smiled, bowed, and left the room
by the door leading towards the hall.

* It seems to me,' the Baroness said, still sup-
pressing her anger, as she turned her face a little
towards Malipieri and spoke at him over her
shoulder, * it seems to me that you might go
too.'

It was not for Malipieri to resent her tone or
words just then, and he knew it, though he hated
her for believing the evidence of her senses rather

THE HEART OF ROME 297

than Sabina's story. He made a step towards the
door.

' No,' Volterra said, without rising, ' I think he
had better stay, and hear what we have to say
about this. After all, the responsibility for what
has happened falls upon him.'

* I should think it did ! ' cried the Baroness,
breaking out at last, in harsh tones. * You
abominable villain, you monster of iniquity, you
snake, you viper '

4 Hush, hush, my dear ! ' interposed the Baron,
realizing vaguely that his wife's justifiable excite-
ment was showing itself in unjustifiably vulgar
vituperation.

* You toad ! ' yelled the Baroness, shaking her
fist in Malipieri's face. * You reptile, you ac-
cursed ruffian, you false, black-hearted, lying son
of Satan ! '

She gasped for breath, and her whole frame
quivered with fury, while her livid lips twisted
themselves to hiss out the epithets of abuse.
Volterra feared lest she should fall down in an
apoplexy and he rose from his seat quickly. He
gathered her to his corpulent side with one arm
and made her turn away towards the window,
which he opened with his free hand.

* I should be all that, and worse, if a tenth of
what you believe were true,' Malipieri said, coming
nearer and then standing still.

He was very pale, and he was conscious of
a cowardly wish that Volterra's revolver might
have killed him ten minutes earlier. But he was
ashamed of the mere thought when he remem-

298 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

bered what Sabina would have to face. Vol terra,
while holding his wife firmly against the window
sill, to force her to breathe the outer air, turned
his head towards Malipieri.

' She is quite beside herself, you see,' he said
apologetically.

The Baroness was a strong woman, and after
the first explosion of her fury she regained enough
self-control to speak connectedly. She turned
round, in spite of the pressure of her husband's
arm.

' He is not even ashamed of what he has
done ! ' she said. ' He stands there '

The Baron interrupted her, fearing another
outburst.

c Let me speak,' he said, in the tone she could
not help obeying. 'What explanation have you
to offer of Donna Sabina's presence here ? ' he
asked.

As he put the question, he nodded significantly
to Malipieri, over his wife's shoulder, evidently
to make the latter understand that he must at
least invent some excuse if he had none ready.
The Baron did not care a straw what became
of him, or of Sabina, and wished them both out
of his way for ever, but he had always avoided
scandal, and was especially anxious to avoid it now.

Malipieri resented the hint much more than
the Baroness's anger, but he was far too much in
the wrong, innocent though he was, to show his
resentment.

He told his story firmly and coolly, and it
agreed exactly with Sabina's.

THE HEART OF ROME 299

' That is exactly what happened last night,' he
concluded. ' If you will go down, you will find
the breach I made, and the first vaults full of
water. I have nothing more to say.'

' You taught her the lesson admirably,' said the
Baroness with withering scorn. * She told me the
same story, almost word for word ! '

* Madam,' Malipieri answered, * I give you my
word of honour that it is true.'

* My dear,' Volterra said, speaking to his wife,
* when a gentleman gives his word of honour, you
are bound to accept it.'

* I hope so,' said Malipieri.

* Any man would perjure himself for a woman,'
retorted the Baroness with contempt.

' No, my dear,' the Baron objected, try-
ing to mollify her. ' Perjury is a crime, you
know.'

'And what he has done is a much worse
crime ! ' she cried.

' I have not committed any crime,' Malipieri
answered. * I would give all I possess, and my
life, to undo what has happened, but I have
neither said nor done anything to be ashamed of.'
For Donna Sabina's sake, you must accept my
explanation. In time you will believe it.'

* Yes, yes,' urged Volterra, * I am sure you
will, my dear. In any case you must accept it as
the only one. I will go downstairs with Signer
Malipieri and we will take the porter to the cellars.
Then you can go out with Sabina, and if you are
careful no one will ever know that she has been
here.'

300 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

* And do you mean to let her live under your
roof after this ? ' asked the Baroness indignantly.

' Her mother is now in Rome,' answered Vol-
terra readily. * When she is dressed, you will
take her to the Princess, and you will say that
as we are going away, we are reluctantly obliged
to decline the responsibility of keeping the young
girl with us any longer. That is what you will do.'

' I am glad you admit at least that she cannot
live with us any longer,' the Baroness answered.
' I am sure I have no wish to ruin the poor girl,
who has been this man's unhappy victim '

' Hush, hush ! ' interposed Volterra. ' You
must really accept the explanation he has given.'

' For decency's sake, you may, and I shall have
to pretend that I do. At least,' she continued,
turning coldly to Malipieri, ' you will make such
reparation as is in your power.'

* I will do anything I can,' answered Malipieri
gravely.

' You will marry her as soon as possible,' the
Baroness said with frigid seventy. * It is the only
thing you can do.'

Malipieri was silent. The Baron looked at
him, and a disagreeable smile passed over his fat
features. But at that moment the door opened,
and Sabina entered.

Without the least hesitation she came forward
to Malipieri, frankly holding out her hand.

' Good morning,' she said. * Before I go, I
wish to thank you again for saving my life, and
for taking care of me here.'

He held her hand a moment.

xvm THE HEART OF ROME 301

* I ask your pardon, with all my heart, for
having brought you into danger and trouble,' he
answered.

' It was not your fault,' she said. ' It was
nobody's fault, and I am glad I saw the statues
before any one else. You told me last night that
you were probably going away. If we never
meet again, I wish you to remember that you are
not to reproach yourself for anything that may
happen to me. You might, you know. Will you
remember ? '

She spoke quite naturally and without the least
fear of Volterra and his wife, who looked on and
listened in dumb surprise at her self-possession.
She meant every word she said, and more too, but
she had thought out the little speech while she
was dressing, for she had guessed what must be
happening in the study. Malipieri fixed his eyes
on her's gratefully, but did not find an answer at
once.

' Will you remember ? ' she repeated.

* I shall never forget,' he answered, not quite
steadily.

By one of those miracles which are the birth-
right of certain women, she had made her dress
look almost fresh again. The fawn-coloured hat
was restored to its shape, or nearly. The mud that
had soiled her skirt had dried and she had brushed
it away though it had left faint spots on the cloth,
here and there ; pins hid the little rents so cleverly
that only a woman's eye could have detected any-
thing wrong, and the russet shoes were tolerably
presentable. The Baroness saw traces of the

302 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

adventure to which the costume had been exposed,
but Volterra smiled and was less inclined than ever
to believe the story which both had told, though
he did not say so.

* My wife and I,' he said cordially, ' quite under-
stand what has happened, and no one shall ever
know about it, unless you speak of it yourself.
She will go home with you now, and will then take
you to the Russian Embassy to see your mother.'

Sabina looked at him in surprise, for she had
expected a disagreeable scene. Then she glanced
at the Baroness's sallow and angry face, and she
partly understood the position.

* Thank you,' she said, proudly, ' but if you do
not mind, I will go to my mother directly. You
will perhaps be so kind as to have my things sent
to the Embassy, or my mother's maid will come
and get them/

4 You cannot go looking like that,' said the
Baroness severely.

4 On the contrary,' Volterra interposed, c I think
that considering your dangerous adventure, you
look perfectly presentable. Of course, we quite
understand that as the Princess has returned, you
should wish to go back to her at once, though we
are very sorry to let you go.'

Sabina paused a moment before answering.
Then she spoke to the Baroness, only glancing at
Volterra.

' Until to-day, you have been very kind to me,'
she said, with an effort. * I thank you for your
kindness, and I am sorry that you think so badly
of me.'

THE HEART OF ROME 303

' My dear young lady/ cried the Baron, lying
with hearty cordiality, * you are much mistaken !
I assure you, it was only a momentary misappre-
hension on the part of my wife, who had not even
spoken with Signor Malipieri. His explanation
has been more than satisfactory. Is it not so, my
dear ? ' he asked, turning to the Baroness for con-
firmation of his fluent assurances.

* Of course,' she answered, half choking, and
with a face like thunder ; but she dared not dis-
obey.

* If my mother says anything about my frock,
I shall tell her the whole story,' said Sabina,
glancing at her skirt.

* If you do,' said the Baroness, * I shall deny it
from beginning to end.'

* I think that it would perhaps be wiser to
explain that in some other way,' the Baron sug-
gested. * Signor Malipieri, will you be so very kind
as to go down first, and take the porter with a
light to the entrance of the cellars ? He knows
Donna Sabina, you see. I will come down pre-
sently, for I shall stay behind and ask the detective
to look out of the window in the next room,
while my wife and Donna Sabina pass through.
In that way we shall be quite sure that she will
not be recognized. Will you do that, Signor
Malipieri ? Unless you have a better plan to
suggest, of course.'

Malipieri saw that the plan was simple and
apparently safe. He looked once more at Sabina,
and she smiled, and just bent her head, but said
nothing. He left the room. The detective was

304 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP, xvm

sitting in a corner of the room beyond, and the
two men exchanged a silent nod as Malipieri
passed.

Everything was arranged as the Baron had
planned, and ten minutes later the Baroness and
Sabina descended the stairs together in silence and
reached the great entrance. The two soldiers
were standing by the open door of the lodge,
and saluted in military fashion. Gigi, the car-
penter, sprang forward and opened the postern
door, touching his paper cap to the ladies.

They did not exchange a word as they walked
to the Piazza Sant' Apollinare to find a cab.
Sabina held her head high and looked straight
before her, and the Baroness's invisible silk bellows
were distinctly audible in the quiet street.

* By the hour,' said the Baroness, as they got
into the first cab they reached on the stand. ' Go
to the Russian Embassy, in the Corso.'

CHAPTER XIX

* So you spent last night in the rooms of a man
you have not seen half a dozen times,' said the
Princess, speaking with a cigarette in her mouth.
' And what is worse, those dreadful Vol terra people
found you there. No Conti ever had any common
sense ! '

What Sabina had foreseen had happened. Her
mother had looked her over, from head to foot, to
see what sort of condition she was in, as a horse-
dealer looks over a promising colt he has not
seen for some time ; and the Princess had instantly
detected the signs of an accident. In answer to
her question, Sabina told the truth. Her mother
had watched her face and her innocent eyes while
she was telling the story, and needed no other
confirmation.

* You are a good girl,' she continued, as Sabina
did not reply to the last speech. ' But you are
a little fool. I wonder why my children are all
idiots ! I am not so stupid after all. I suppose it
must have been your poor father/

The white lids closed thoughtfully over her
magnificent eyes, and opened again after a moment,

305 x

3o6 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

as if she had called up a vision of her departed
husband and had sent it away again.

* I suppose it was silly of me to go at all,'
Sabina admitted, leaning back in her chair. ' But
I wanted so much to see the statues ! *

She felt at home. Her mother had brought
her up badly and foolishly, and of late had neglected
her shamefully. Sabina knew that and neither
loved her nor respected her, and it was not because
she was her mother that the girl felt suddenly
at ease in her presence, as she never could feel
with the Baroness. She did not wish to be at all
like her mother in character, or even in manner,
and yet she felt that they belonged to the same
kind, spoke the same language, and had an instinc-
tive understanding of each other, though these
things implied neither mutual respect nor affection.

* That horrible old Volterra ! * said the Princess,
with emphasis. ' He means to keep everything
he has found, for himself, if he can. I have come
only just in time.'

Sabina did not answer. She knew nothing of
the law, and though she fancied that she might
have some morally just claim to a share in the
treasure, she had never believed that it could be
proved.

1 Of course,' the Princess continued, smok-
ing thoughtfully, * there is only one thing to be
done. You must marry this Malipieri at once,
whether you like him or not. What sort of man
is he?'

The faint colour rose in Sabina's cheeks and
not altogether at the mere thought of marrying

xix THE HEART OF ROME 307

Malipieri ; she was hurt by the way her mother
spoke of him.

' What kind of man is he ? ' the Princess re-
peated. ' I suppose he is a Venetian, a son of the
man who married the Gradenigo heiress, about the
time when I was married myself. Is he the man
who discovered Troy ? '

' Carthage, I think,' said Sabina.

' Troy, Carthage, America, it is all the same.
He discovered something, and I fancy he will
be rich. But what is he like ? Dark, fair, good,
bad, snuffy or smart ? As he is an archaeologist,
he must be snuffy, a bore, probably, and what the
English call a male frump. It cannot be helped,
my dear ! You will have to marry him. Describe
him to me.'

' He is dark,' said Sabina.

' I am glad of that. I always liked dark men
— your father was fair, like you. Besides, as you
are a blonde, you will always look better beside a
dark husband. But of course he is dreadfully
careless, with long hair and doubtful nails. All
those people are.'

'No,' said Sabina. 'He is very nice-looking
and neat, and wears good clothes.'

The Princess's brow cleared.

* All the better,' she said. ' Well, my dear, it
is not so bad after all. We have found a husband
for you, rich, of good family — quite as good as
yours, my child! Good-looking, smart — what
more do you expect ? Besides, he cannot possibly
refuse to marry you after what has happened.
On the whole, I think your adventure has turned

3o8 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

out rather well. You can be married in a month.
Every one will think it quite natural that it should
have been kept quiet until I came, you see.'

* But even if I wanted to marry him, he will
never ask for me,' objected Sabina, who was less
surprised than might be expected, for she knew
her mother thoroughly.

The Princess laughed, and blew a cloud of
smoke from her lips, and then showed her hand-
some teeth.

' I have only to say the word,' she answered.
* When a young girl of our world has spent the
night in a man's rooms, he marries her, if her
family wishes it. No man of honour can possibly
refuse. I suppose that this Malipieri is a gentle-
man ? '

* Indeed he is ! ' Sabina spoke with consider-
able indignation.

' Precisely. Then he will come to me this
afternoon and tell his story frankly, just as you
have done — it was very sensible of you, my dear
— and he will offer to marry you. Of course I
shall accept.'

' But mother,' cried Sabina, aghast at the
suddenness of the conclusion, * I am not at all
sure '

She stopped, feeling that she was much more
sure of being in love with Malipieri than she had
been when she had driven to the palace with Sassi
on the previous afternoon.

' Is there any one you like better ? ' asked the
Princess sharply. * Are you in love with any one
else ? '

THE HEART OF ROME 309

« No ! But

' I had never seen your father when our marriage
was arranged,' the Princess observed.

'And you were very unhappy together,'
Sabina answered promptly. 'You always say
so.'

' Oh, unhappy ? I am not so sure, now.
Certainly not nearly so miserable as half the people
I know. After all, what is happiness, child ?
Doing what you please, is it not ? '

Sabina had not thought of this definition, and
she laughed, without accepting it. In one way,
everything looked suddenly bright and cheerful,
since her mother had believed her story, and she
knew that she was not to go back to the Baroness,
who had not believed her at all, and had called
her bad names.

'And I almost always did as I pleased,' the
Princess continued, after a moment's reflection.
' The only trouble was that your dear father did
not always like what I did. He was a very re-
ligious man. That was what ruined us. He gave
half his income to charities and then scolded me
because I could not live on the other half. Be-
sides, he turned the Ten Commandments into a
hundred. It was a perfect multiplication table of
things one was not to do.'

Poor Sabina's recollections of her father had
nothing of affection in them, and she did not feel
called upon to defend his memory. Like many
weak but devout men, he had been severe to his
children, even to cruelty, while perfectly incapable
of controlling his wife's caprices.

3io THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

' I remember, though I was only a little girl
when he died,' Sabina said.

' Is Malipieri very religious ? ' the Princess
asked. * I mean, does he make a fuss about
having fish on Fridays ? ' She spoke quite gravely.

tl fancy not,' Sabina answered, seeing nothing
odd in her mother's implied definition of righteous-
ness. ' He never talked to me about religion, I
am sure.'

' Thank God ! ' exclaimed the Princess devoutly.

' He always says he is a republican,' Sabina
remarked, glad to talk about him.

* Really ? ' The Princess was interested. ' I
adore revolutionaries,' she said, thoughtfully.
' They always have something to say. I have
always longed to meet a real anarchist.'

4 Signer Malipieri is not an anarchist,' said
Sabina.

' Of course not, child ! I never said he was.
All anarchists are shoemakers or miners, or some-
thing like that. I only said that I always longed
to meet one. People who do not value their lives
are generally amusing. When I was a girl, I was
desperately in love with a cousin of mine who
drove a four-in-hand down a flight of steps, and
won a bet by jumping on a wild bear's back.
He was always doing those things. I loved him
dearly.' The Princess laughed.

* What became of him ? ' Sabina asked.

* He shot himself one day in Geneva, poor boy,
because he was bored. I was always sorry, though
they would not have let me marry him, because he
had lost all his money at cards.' The Princess

x.x THE HEART OF ROME 311

sighed. * Of course you want a lot of new
clothes, my dear,' she said, changing the subject
rather suddenly. ' Have you nothing but that to
wear ? '

Sabina's things had not yet come from the Via
Ludovisi. She explained that she had plenty of
clothes.

4 1 fancy they are nothing but rags,' her mother
answered incredulously. ' We shall have to go to
Paris in any case for your trousseau. You cannot
get anything here.'

' But we have no money,' objected Sabina.

* As if that made any difference ! We can
always get money, somehow. What a child you
are ! '

Sabina said nothing, for she knew that her
mother always managed to have what she wanted,
even when it looked quite impossible. The girl
had been brought up in the atmosphere of perpetual
debt and borrowing which seemed natural to the
Princess, and nothing of that sort surprised her,
though it was all contrary to her own instinctively
conscientious and honourable nature.

Her mother had always been a mystery to her,
and now, as Sabina sat near her, she crossed her
feet, which were encased in a pair of the Princess's
slippers, and looked at her as she had often looked
before, wondering how such a reckless, scatter-
brained, almost penniless woman could have
remained the great personage which the world
always considered her to be, and that, too, without
the slightest effort on her part to maintain her
position.

312 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

Then Sabina reflected upon the Baroness's
existence, which was one long struggle to reach
a social elevation not even remotely rivalling that
of the Princess Conti ; a struggle in which she was
armed with a large fortune, with her husband's
political power, with the most strictly virtuous
views of life, and an iron will ; a struggle which
could never raise her much beyond the point she
had already reached.

Sabina's meditations were soon interrupted by the
arrival of her belongings, in charge of her mother's
maid, and the immediate necessity of dressing
more carefully than had been possible when she
had been so rudely roused by the Baroness. She
was surprised to find herself so little tired by the
desperate adventure, and without even a cold as
the result of the never-to-be-forgotten chill she
had felt in the vaults.

In the afternoon, the Princess declared that
she would not go out. She was sure that Mali-
pieri would present himself, and she would receive
him in her boudoir. The Ambassador had given
her a very pretty set of rooms. He was a
bachelor, and was of course delighted to have her
stay with him, and still more pleased that her
pretty daughter should join her. It was late in
the season, he was detained in Rome by an inter-
national complication, and he looked upon the
arrival of the two guests as a godsend, more
especially as the Princess was an old acquaintance
of his and the wife of an intimate friend. Nothing
could have been more delightful, and everything
was for the best. The Princess herself felt that

xix THE HEART OF ROME 313

fortune was shining upon her, for she never
doubted that she could lay hands on some of the
money which the statues would bring, and she was
sure, at least, of marrying Sabina extremely well
in a few weeks, which was an advantage not to be
despised.

During the hours that followed her first con-
versation with her mother, Sabina found time to
reflect upon her own future, and the more she
thought of it, the more rosy it seemed. She was
sure that Malipieri loved her, though he had
certainly not told her so yet, and she was sure
that she had never met a man whom she liked
half so much. It was true that she had not met
many, and none at all in even such intimacy as
had established itself between him and her at their
very first meeting ; but that mattered little, and
last night she had seen him as few women ever
see a man, fighting for her life and his own for
hours together, and winning in the end. Indeed,
had she known it, their situation had been really
desperate, for while Masin was in prison and in
ignorance of what had happened, and Sassi lying
unconscious at the hospital after a fall that had
nearly killed him outright, it was doubtful whether
any one else could have guessed that they were in
the vaults or would have been able to get them
out alive, had it been known.

She had always expected to be married against
her will by her mother, or at all events without
any inclination on her own part. She had been
taught that it was the way of the world, which it
was better to accept. If the proposed husband

3 14 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

had been a cripple, or an old man, she would have
been capable of rebellion, of choosing the convent,
of running away alone into the world, of almost
anything. But if he had turned out to be an
average individual, neither uglier, nor older, nor
more repulsive than many others, she would prob-
ably have accepted her fate with indifference, or
at least with the necessary resignation, especially if
she had never met Malipieri. Instead of that, it
was probably Malipieri whom she was to marry,
the one of all others whom she had chosen for
herself, and in place of a dreary existence, stretch-
ing out through endless blank years in the future,
she saw a valley of light, carpeted with roses,
opening suddenly in the wilderness to receive her
and the man she loved.

It was no wonder that she smiled in her sleep
as she lay resting in the warm afternoon, in her
own room. Her mother had made her lie down,
partly because she was still tired, and partly because
it would be convenient that she should be out of
the way if Malipieri came.

He came, as the Princess had expected, and
between two and three o'clock, an hour at which he
was almost sure to find her at home. From what
Sabina had said to the Baroness in his presence,
and from his judgment of the girl's character, he
felt certain that she would tell her mother the
whole story at once. As they had acknowledged
to each other in the vaults, they were neither of
them good at inventing falsehoods, and Sabina
would surely tell the truth. In the extremely
improbable case in which she had not been obliged

xu THE HEART OF ROME 315

to say anything about the events of the night, his
visit would not seem at all out of place. He had
seen a good deal of Sabina during her mother's
absence, and it was proper that he should pre-
sent himself in order to make the Princess's
acquaintance.

He studied her face quickly as he came for-
ward, and made up his mind that she expected
him, though she looked up with an air of languid
surprise as he entered. She leaned forward a little
in her comfortable seat, and held out her plump
hand.

* I think I knew your mother, and my daughter
has told me about you,' she said. ' I am glad to
see you.'

* You are very kind,' Malipieri answered,
raising her hand to his lips, which encountered a
large, cool sapphire. * I have had the pleasure of
meeting Donna Sabina several times.'

* Yes, I know.' The Princess laughed. * Sit
down here beside me, and tell me all about your
strange adventure. You are really the man I
mean, are you not ? ' she asked, still smiling.
* Your mother was a Gradenigo ? '

'Yes. My father is alive. You may have
met him, though he rarely leaves Venice.'

' I think I have, years ago, but I am not sure.
Does he never come to Rome ? '

' He is an invalid now,' Malipieri explained
gravely. ' He cannot leave the house.'

* Indeed ? I am very sorry. It must be dread-
ful to be an invalid. I was never ill in my life.
But now that we have made acquaintance, do tell

316 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

me all about last night ! Were you really in
danger, as Sabina thinks, or is she exaggerating ? '

* There was certainly no exaggeration in saying
that we were in great danger, as matters have
turned out,' Malipieri answered. ' Of the two
men who knew that we were in the vault, one is
lying insensible, with a fractured skull, in the
hospital of the Consolazione, and the other has
been arrested by a mistake and is in prison.
Besides, both of them would have had every reason
to suppose that we had got out.'

' Sabina did not tell me that. How awful ! I
must know all the details, please ! '

Malipieri told the whole story, from the time
when Volterra had first invited him to come and
make a search. The Princess nodded her energetic
approval of his view that Sabina had a right to a
large share in anything that was found. The poor
girl's dowry, she said, had been eaten up by her
father's absurd charities and by the bad adminis-
tration of the estates which had ruined the whole
family. Malipieri paid no attention to this state-
ment, for he knew the truth, and he went on to
the end, telling everything, up to the moment
when Volterra had at last quitted the palace that
morning and had left him free.

' Poor Sassi ! ' exclaimed the Princess, when he
had finished. ' He was a foolish old man, but he
always seemed very willing. Is that all ? '

* Yes. That is all. I think I have forgotten
nothing.'

The Princess looked at him and smiled en-
couragingly, expecting him to say something more,

x.x THE HEART OF ROME 317

but he was grave and silent. Gradually, the smile
faded from her face, till she looked away, and took
a cigarette from the table at her elbow. Still he
said nothing. She lit the cigarette and puffed at
it two or three times, slowly and thoughtfully.

' I hope that Donna Sabina is none the worse
for the fatigue,' Malipieri said at last. ' She seemed
quite well this morning. I wondered that she had
not caught cold.'

' She never caught cold easily, even as a child,'
answered the Princess indifferently. * This affair
may have much more serious consequences than a
cold in the head,' she added, after a long pause.

' I think the Volterra couple will be discreet,
for their own sakes,' Malipieri answered.

* Their servants must know that Sabina was
out all night.'

'They do not know that poor Sassi did not
bring her to you here, and the Baroness will be
careful to let them understand that she is here
now, and with you. Those people dread nothing
like a scandal. The secret is between them and
us. I do not see how any one else can possibly
know it, or guess it.'

' The fact remains,' said the Princess, speaking
out, ' that my daughter spent last night in your
rooms, and slept there, as if she had been in her
own home. If it is ever known she will be
ruined.'

* It will never be known, I am quite sure.'

' I am not, and it is a possibility I cannot really
afford to contemplate.' She looked fixedly at
him.

3i 8 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

Malipieri was silent, and his face showed that he
was trying to find some way out of the imaginary
difficulty, or at least some argument which might
quiet the Princess's fears.

She did not understand his silence. If he was
a man of honour, it was manifestly his duty at
least to offer the reparation that lay in his power ;
but he showed no inclination to do so. It was
incomprehensible.

' I cannot see what is to be done,' he said at
last.

' Is it possible that I must tell you, Signer
Malipieri ? ' asked the Princess, and her splendid
eyes flashed angrily.

Malipieri's met them without flinching.

' You mean, of course, that I should offer to
marry Donna Sabina,' he said.

' What else could an honourable man do, in
your position ? '

* I wish I knew.' Malipieri passed his hand
over his eyes in evident distress.

' Do you mean to say that you refuse ? ' the
Princess asked, between scorn and anger. * Are
you so little one of us that you suppose this to be
a question of inclination ? '

Malipieri looked up again.

' I wish it were. I love your daughter with all
my heart and soul. I did, before I saved her life
last night.'

The Princess's anger gave way to stupefaction.

* Well — but then ? I do not understand. There
is something else.'

' Yes, there is something else. I have kept

xix THE HEART OF ROME 319

the secret a long time, and it is not all my
own.'

' I have a right to know it,' the Princess
answered firmly, and bending her brows.

* I never expected to tell it to any one,' Mali-
pieri said, in a low voice, and evidently struggling
with himself. ' I see that I shall have to trust
you.'

' You must,' insisted the Princess. ' My daughter
has a right to know, as well as I ; and you say
that you Jove her.'

' I am married.'

* Good heavens ! '

She sank back in her chair, overwhelmed with
surprise at the simple statement, which, after all,
need not have astonished her so much, as she re-
flected a moment later. She had never heard of
Malipieri until that day, and since he had never
told any one of his marriage, it was impossible
that her daughter should have known of it. She
was tolerably sure that the latter's adventure would
not be known, but she had formed the determina-
tion to take advantage of it in order to secure
Malipieri for Sabina, and had been so perfectly
sure of the result that she fell from the clouds on
learning that he had a wife already.

On his part, he was not thinking of what was
passing in her mind, but of what he should have
thought of himself, had he, with his character,
been in her position. The bald statement that he
was married, and his confession of his love for
Sabina looked badly side by side, in the clear light
of his own honour ; all the more, because he knew

320 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

that, without positively or directly speaking out his
heart to the girl, he had let her guess that he was
falling in love with her. He had said so, though
in jest, on that night when he had been alone with
her in Volterra's house ; his going there, on the
mere chance of seeing her alone, and the interest
he had shown in her from their first meeting, must
have made her think that he was in love. More-
over, he really was, and like most people who are
consciously in love where they ought not to be,
he felt as if everybody knew it ; and yet he was a
married man.

' I am legally married under Italian law,' he
said, after a pause. 'But that is all. My wife
bears my name, and lives honourably under it, but
that is all there has ever been of marriage in my
life. I can honestly say that not even a word of
affection ever passed between us.'

* How strange ! ' The Princess listened with
interest, wondering what was coming next.

* I never saw her but once,' Malipieri con-
tinued. ' We met in the morning, we were
married at noon, at the municipality, we parted
at the railway station twenty minutes later, and
have never met again.'

' But you are not married at all ! ' cried the
Princess. ' The Church would annul such a
marriage without making the least trouble.'

' We were not even married in church,' said
Malipieri. ' We were married at the municipality
only.'

' It is not a marriage at all, then.'

' Excuse me. It is perfectly valid in law, and

xix THE HEART OF ROME 321

my wife has a certified copy of the register to
prove that she has a right to my name.'

* Were you mad ? What made you do it ?
It is utterly incomprehensible — to bind yourself
for life to a woman you had never seen ! What
possible motive '

* I will tell you,' said Malipieri. * It all hap-
pened long ago, when I was little more than
twenty-one. It is not a very long story, but I
beg you not to tell it. You do not suppose me
capable of keeping it a secret in order to make
another marriage, not really legal, do you ? '

* Certainly not,' answered the Princess. ' I
believe you to be an honourable man. I will not
tell your story to any one.'

* You may tell Donna Sabina as much of it as
you think she need hear. This is what happened.
I served my time in a cavalry regiment — no matter
where, and I had an intimate friend, nearly of my
own age, and a Venetian. He was very much in
love with a young girl of a respectable family, but
not of his own station. Of course his family would
not hear of a marriage, but she loved him, and he
promised that he would marry her as soon as he
had finished his military service, in spite of his
own people. He would have been of age by
that time, for he was only a few months younger
than I, and he was willing to sacrifice most of
his inheritance for love of the girl. Do you
understand ? '

* Yes. Go on.'

' He and I were devotedly attached to each
other, and I sympathized with him, of course, and

Y

322 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

promised to help him if he made a runaway match.
He used to get leave for a couple of days, to go
and see her, for she lived with her parents in a
small city within two hours of our garrison
town. You guess what happened. They were
young, they were foolish, and they were madly
in love.'

The Princess nodded, and Malipieri continued.

' Not long afterwards, my friend was killed by
a fall. His horse crushed him. It was a horrible
accident, and he lived twelve hours after it, in
great pain. He would not let the doctors give
him morphia. He said he would die like a man,
and he did, with all his senses about him. While
he lay dying, I was with him, and then he told me
all the truth. The girl would not be able to con-
ceal it much longer. There was no time to bring
her to his bedside and marry her while he still
breathed. He could not even leave her money,
for he was a minor. He could do nothing for
her and her parents would turn her into the street ;
in any case she was ruined. He was in frightful
agony of mind for her sake, he was dying before
my eyes, powerless to help her and taking his
suffering and his fault with him to the next world,
and he was my friend. I did what I could. I
gave him my word of honour that I would marry
her legally, give her and her child my name, and
provide for them as well as I could. He thanked
me — I shall never forget how he looked — and he
died quietly, half an hour afterwards. You know
now. I kept my word. That is all.'

The Princess looked at his quiet face a moment

xix THE HEART OF ROME 323

in silence, and all that was best in her rose up
through all that was artificial and worldly, and
untruthful and vain.

* I did not know that there were such men,'
she said simply.

CHAPTER XX

'So he got out,' said Gigi to Toto, filling the
latter's glass to the brim.

' May he die assassinated ! ' answered Toto.
' I will burn a candle to the Madonna every day,
in order that an apoplexy may seize him. He
is the devil in person, this cursed engineer. Even
the earth and the water will not have him. They
spit him out, like that.'

Toto illustrated the simile with force and noise
before drinking. Gigi's cunning face was wreathed
in smiles.

* You know nothing,' he observed.

* What is it ? ' asked Toto, with his glass in his
hand and between two sips.

' There was old Sassi, who was hurt, and the
engineer's gaol-bird mason-servant. They were
with him. It was all in the Messaggero this
morning.'

' I know that without the newspaper, you
imbecile. It was I that told you, for I saw all
three pass under the window while I was locked
in. Is there anything else you know ? '

' Oh yes ! There was another person with
them.'

324

CHAP, xx THE HEART OF ROME 325

' I daresay,' Toto answered, pretending blank
indifference. ' He must have been close to the
wall as they went by. What difference does it
make since that pig of an engineer got out ? '

* The other person was caught with him when
the water rose,' said Gigi, who meant to give his
information by inches.

4 Curse him, whoever he was ! He helped the
engineer and that is why they got out. No man
alone could have broken through that wall in a
night, except one of us.'

* The other person was only a woman, after all,'
answered Gigi. ' But you do not care, I suppose.'

* Speak, animal of a Jesuit that you are ! ' cried
Toto. ' Do not make me lose my soul ! '

Gigi smiled and drank some of his wine.

* There are people who would pay to know,'
he said, * and you would never tell me whether the
sluice-gate of the "lost water" is under number
thirteen or not.'

'It is under number thirteen, Master Judas.
Speak ! '

* It was the little fair girl of Casa Conti who
was caught with the engineer in the vaults.'

Even Toto was surprised, and opened his eyes
and his mouth at the same time.

' The little Princess Sabina ? ' he asked in a low
voice.

Gigi shrugged his shoulders with a pitying air
and grinned.

' I told you that you knew nothing,' he observed,
in triumph. * They were together all night, and she
slept in his room, and the Senator's wife came to

326 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

get her in the morning. The engineer took the
porter off to the cellars before they came down,
so that he should not see her pass ; but he forgot
me, the old carpenter of the house, and I opened
the postern for the two ladies to go out. The
little Princess's skirt had been torn. I saw the
pins with these eyes. It was also spotted with
mud, which had been brushed off. But thanks be
to heaven I have still my sight. I see, and am
not blind.'

' Are you sure it was she ? ' asked Toto, for-
getting to curse anybody.

1 1 saw her as I see you. Have I not seen her
grow up, since she used to be wheeled about in a
baby carriage in Piazza Navona, like a flower in a
basket ? Her nurse made love with the " wood-
pecker " who was always on duty there.'

The Romans call the municipal watchmen
* woodpeckers,' because they wear little pointed
cocked hats with a bunch of feathers. They have
nothing to do with police soldiers, nor with the
carabineers.

Toto made Gigi tell him everything he knew.
At the porter's suggestion Volterra had sent for
the mason, as the only man who knew anything
about the 'lost water,' and Toto had agreed, with
apparent reluctance, to do what he could at once,
as soon as he had satisfied himself that Malipieri
had really made another opening by which the
statues could be reached. Toto laid down condi-
tions, however. He pretended that he must expose
himself to great danger, and insisted upon being
paid fifty francs for the job. Furthermore, he

xx THE HEART OF ROME 327

obtained from Volterra, in the presence of the porter
as witness, a formal promise that his grandfather's
bones should have Christian burial, with a fine
hearse and feathers, and a permanent grave in the
cemetery of Saint Lawrence, which latter is rather
an expensive luxury, beyond the means of the
working people. But the Baron made no ob-
jection. The story would look very well in a
newspaper paragraph, as a fine illustration of the
Senator's liberality as well as of his desire to
maintain the forms of religion. It would please
everybody, and what will do that is cheap at any
price, in politics.

The result of these negotiations had of course
been that the water had subsided in the vaults
within a few hours, and Toto even found a way
of draining the outer cellars, which had been
flooded to the depth of a couple of feet, because
the first breach made by Malipieri had turned out
to be an inch or two lower than the level of the
overflow shaft.

When the two workmen had exchanged con-
fidences, they ordered another half litre of wine,
and sat in silence till the grimy host had set it
down between them on the blackened table, and
had retired to his den. Then they looked at each
other. »

* There is an affair here,' observed Gigi,
presently.

* I suppose you mean the newspapers,' said
Toto, nodding gravely. * They pay for such stories.'

* Newspapers ! ' Gigi made a face. * All jour-
nalists are pigs who are dying of hunger.'

328 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

Toto seemed inclined to agree with this some-
what extreme statement, on the whole, but he
distinguished. There were papers, he said, which
would pay as much as a hundred francs for a
scandalous story about the Roman princes. A
hundred francs was not a gold mine, it was not
Peru. But it was a hundred francs. What did
Gigi expect ? The treasure of Saint Peter's ? A
story was a story, after all, and anybody could
deny it.

* It is worth more than a hundred francs,' Gigi
answered, with his weasel smile, ' but not to the
newspapers. The honour of a Roman princess is
worth a hundred thousand.'

Toto whistled, and then looked incredulous,
but it began to dawn upon him that the ' affair '
was of more importance than he had supposed.
Gigi was much cleverer than he ; that was why he
always called Gigi an imbecile.

The carpenter unfolded his plan. He knew as
well as any one that the Conti were ruined and
could not raise any such sum as he proposed to
demand, even to save Sabina's good name. It
would apparently be necessary to extract the black-
mail from Volterra by some means to be dis-
covered. On the other hand, Volterra was not
only rich, he also possessed much power, and it
would be somewhat dangerous to incur his dis-
pleasure.

Toto, though dull, had a certain rough common
sense and pointed this out. He said that the
Princess must have jewels which she could sell to
save her daughter from disgrace. She and Donna

xx THE HEART OF ROME 329

Sabina were at the Russian Embassy, for the
Messaggero said so. Gigi, who could write,
might send her a letter there.

* No doubt,' assented the carpenter with a
superior air. * I have some instruction, and can
write a letter. But the jewels are paste. Half
the Roman princesses wear sham jewelry now-
adays. Do you suppose the Conti have not sold
everything long ago ? They had to live.'

* I do not see why,' observed Toto. ' Princes
without money might as well be dead, an apoplexy
on them all ! Well, what do you propose to do ?
That old franc-eater of a Senator will not pay
you for the girl's reputation, since she is not his
daughter.'

* We must think,' said Gigi. * Perhaps it
would do no harm to write a letter to the Princess.
The engineer is poor, of course. It is of no use
to go to him.'

* All engineers are starving to death,' Toto
answered cheerfully. * I have seen them eat bread
and onions and drink water, like us. Would they
eat onions and dry bread if they could have meat ?
It is when they become contractors that they get
money, by cheating the rich and strangling the
poor. I know them. They are all evil people.'

' This is true,' assented Gigi. * I have seen
several, before this one.'

4 This one is the eternal father of all assassins,'
growled Toto. * He talked of walling me up
alive.'

' That was only a joke, to frighten you into
holding your tongue,' said Gigi. ' And you did.'

330 THE HEART OF ROME

* A fine joke ! I wish you had been down
there, hiding beside the gold statue instead of me,
while two murderers sat by the little hole above
and talked of walling it up for a week or ten
days ! A fine joke ! The joke the cat makes to
the mouse before eating it ! '

' I can tell the Princess that the money must be
sent in thousand-franc notes,' said Gigi, who was
not listening. ' It cannot go to the post-office
registered, because it must be addressed to a false
name. Somebody must bring it to us.'

* And bring the police to catch us at the same
time,' suggested Toto contemptuously. ' That will
not do.'

'She must bring it herself, to a safe place.'

'How?'

' For instance, I can write that she must take
a cab and drive out of the city on the Via Appia,
and drive, and drive, until she meets two men —
they will be you and me — one with a red handker-
chief hanging out of his coat pocket, and the
other with an old green ribband for a band to his
hat. I have an old green ribband that will do.
She must come alone in the cab. If we see any
one with her, she shall not see us. She will not
know how far out we shall be, so she cannot send
the police to the place. It may be one mile from
the gate, or five. I will write that if she does
not come alone, the story will be printed in all the
papers the next morning.'

Toto now looked at his friend with something
almost like admiration.

' I did not know that you had been a brigand/

xx THE HEART OF ROME 331

he remarked pleasantly. 'That is well thought.
Only the Princess may not be able to get the
money, and if she does, she had better bring it in
gold. We will then go to America.'

Neither of the men had the least idea that a
hundred thousand francs in gold would be an
uncommonly awkward and heavy load to carry.
They supposed it would go into their pockets.

* If she does not come, we will try the Senator
before we publish the story,' said Gigi. * By that
time we shall have been able to think of some way
of putting him under the oil-press to squeeze the
gold out of him.'

' In any case, this is a good affair,' Toto con-
cluded, filling his pipe. ' Nothing is bad which
ends well, and we may both be gentlemen in
America before long.'

So the two ruffians disposed of poor little
Sabina's reputation in the reeking wine-shop, very
much to their own imaginary advantage ; and the
small yellow-and-blue clouds from their stinking
pipes circled up slowly through the gloom into the
darkness above their heads, as the light failed in
the narrow street outside.

Then Gigi, the carpenter, bought two sheets of
paper and an envelope, and a pen and a wretched
little bottle of ink, and a stamp, all at the small
tobacconist's at the corner of Via della Scrofa,
and went to Toto's lodging to compose his letter,
because Toto lived alone, and there were no
women in the house.

Just at the same time, Volterra was leaving the
Palazzo Madama, where the Senate sits, not a

332 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP, xx

couple of hundred yards away. And the two
workmen would have been very much surprised
if they could have guessed what was beginning to
grow in the fertile but tortuous furrows of his
financial and political intelligence, and that in the
end their schemes might possibly fall in with his.

CHAPTER XXI

As it hud become manifestly impossible to keep
the secret of the discovery in the Palazzo Conti
any longer, Vol terra had behaved with his ac-
customed magnanimity. He had not only com-
municated all the circumstances to the authorities
at once, offering the government the refusal of the
statues, which the law could not oblige him to sell
if he chose to keep them in the palace, but also
publicly giving full credit to the * learned archaeolo-
gist and intrepid engineer, Signor Marino Malipieri,
already famous throughout Europe for his recent
discoveries in Carthage.' In two or three days
the papers were full of Malipieri's praises. Those
that were inclined to differ with the existing
state of things called him a hero, and even a
martyr of liberty, besides a very great man ; and
those which were staunch to the monarchy poked
mild fun at his early political flights and con-
gratulated him upon having descended from the
skies, after burning his wings, not only to earth,
but to the waters that are under the earth, re-
turning to the upper air laden with treasures of
art which reflected new glory upon Italy.

All this was very fine, and much of it was

333

334 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

undoubtedly true, but it did not in the least
help Malipieri to solve the problem which had
presented itself so suddenly in his life. The roads
to happiness and to reputation rarely lead to the
same point of the compass when he who hopes to
attain both has more heart than ambition. It is
not given to many, as it was to Baron Volterra,
to lead an admiring, submissive and highly efficient
wife up the broad steps of political power, financial
success and social glory. Neither Caesar nor
Bonaparte reached the top with the wife of his
heart, yet Volterra, more moderately endowed,
though with almost equal ambition, bid fair to
climb high with the virtuous helpmeet of his choice
on his arm.

Malipieri slept badly and grew thinner during
those days. His devotion to his dying friend had
been absurdly quixotic, according to ordinary
standards, but it had never seemed foolish to him,
and he had never regretted it. He had always
believed that a man of action and thought is
freer to think and act if he remains unmarried,
and it had never occurred to him that he might
fall in love with a young girl, without whom life
would seem empty. He was quixotic, generous
and impulsive, but like many men who do extremely
romantic things, he thought himself quite above
sentimentality and entirely' master of his heart.
Hitherto the theory had worked very well, because
he had never really tried to practise it. Nothing
had seemed easier than not to fall in love with
marriageable young women, and he had grown
used to believing that he never could.

xxi THE HEART OF ROME 335

With that brutality to his own feelings of
which only a thoroughly sentimental man is
capable, he left the Palazzo Conti on the day
following the adventure, and took rooms in a
hotel in the upper part of the city. Nothing
would have induced him to spend a night in his
room since Sabina's head had lain upon his pillow.
With Volterra's powerful help, Masin had been
released, though poor Sassi had not returned to
consciousness, and Malipieri learned that the old
man had changed his mind at the last minute, had
insisted upon trying to follow Sabina after all, and
had fallen heavily upon his head in trying to get
down into the first chamber ; while Masin, behind
him, implored him to come back, or at least to
wait for help where he was. The rest needs no
explanation.

Malipieri took a few things with him to the
hotel, and left Masin to collect his papers and
books on the following day, instructing him to
send the scanty furniture, linen and household
belongings to the nearest auction-rooms, to be
sold at once. Masin, none the worse for a night
and a day in prison, came back to his functions as
if nothing had happened. He and his master
had been in more than one adventure together.
This one was over, and he was quite ready for the
next.

There was probably not another man in Italy,
and there are not many alive anywhere, who
would have done what Malipieri did, out of pure
sentiment and nothing else. To him, it seemed
like a natural sacrifice to his inward honour, to

336 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

refuse which would have been cowardly. He had
weakly allowed himself to fall in love with a girl
whom he could not possibly marry, and whom
he respected as much as he loved. He guessed,
though he tried to deny it, that she was more than
half in love with him, since love sometimes comes
by halves. To lie where she had lain, dreaming of
her with his aching eyes open and his blood on
fire would be a violation of her maiden privacy,
morally not much less cowardly in the spirit than
it could have been in the letter, since he could not
marry her.

The world laughs at such refinements of delicate
feeling in a man, but cannot help inwardly respect-
ing them a little, as it respects many things at
which it jeers and rails. Moreover, Malipieri did
not care a fig for the world's opinion, and if he
had needed to take a motto he would have chosen
' Si omnes, ego non ' ; for if there was a circum-
stance which always inclined him to do anything
especially quixotic, it was the conviction that other
people would probably do the exact opposite. So
Masin took the furniture to an auction-room on a
a cart, and Malipieri never saw it again.

While the press was ringing his praises, and he
himself was preparing a carefully written paper on
the two statues, while the public was pouring into
the gate of the Palazzo Conti to see them, and
Volterra was driving a hard bargain with the
government for their sale, he lived in a state of
anxiety and nervousness impossible to describe.
He was haunted by the fear that some one might
find out where Sabina had been on the night after

THE HEART OF ROME 337

she had left Volterra's house, and the mere thought
of such a possibility was real torment, worse than
the knowledge that he could never marry her, and
that without her his life did not seem worth
living. Whatever happened to Sabina would be
the result of his folly in taking her to the vaults.
He might recover from any wound he had him-
self received, but to see the good name of the
innocent girl he loved utterly ruined and dragged
through the mud of newspaper scandal would be a
good deal worse than being flayed alive. It was
horrible to think of it, and yet he could not keep
it out of his thoughts. There had been too many
people about the palace on the morning when
Sabina had left it with the Baroness. Especially,
there had been that carpenter, of whom no one had
thought till it was too late. If Gigi had recognized
Sabina, that would be Malipieri's fault too, for
Volterra had not known that the man had been
employed about the house for years.

A week passed, and nothing happened. He
had neither seen Sabina nor heard of her from
any one. He was besieged by journalists, artists,
men of letters and men of learning, and the
municipal authorities had declared their intention
of giving a banquet in his honour and Volterra's,
to celebrate the safe removal of the two statues
from the vault in which they had lain so long.
He, who hated noisy feasting and speech-making
above all things, could not refuse the public
invitation. All sorts of people came to see him,
in connexion with the whole affair, and he was at
last obliged to shut himself in during several hours

338 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

of the day, in order to work at his dissertation.
Masin alone was free to reach him in case of any
urgent necessity.

One morning, while he was writing, surrounded
by books, drawings and papers, Masin came and
stood silently at his elbow, waiting till it should
please him to look up. Malipieri carefully finished
the sentence he had begun, and laid down his pen.
Then Masin spoke.

* There is a lady downstairs, Sir, who says that
you will certainly receive her upon very important
business. She would not give her name, but told
the porter to try and get me to hand you this
note/

Malipieri sighed wearily and opened the note
without even glancing at the address. He knew
that Sabina would not write to him, and no one
else interested him in the least. But he looked at
the signature before reading the lines, and his
expression changed. The Dowager Princess Conti
wrote a few words to say that she must see him at
once, and was waiting. That was all, but his
heart sank. He sent Masin to show her the way,
and sat resting his forehead in his hand until she
appeared.

She entered and stood before him, softly
magnificent as a sunset in spring ; looking as
even a very stout woman of fifty can, if she has a
matchless complexion, perfect teeth, splendid eyes,
faultless taste, a wonderful dressmaker and a
maid who does not hate her.

Malipieri vaguely wondered how Sabina could
be her daughter, drew an armchair into place for

xxi THE HEART OF ROME 339

her, and sat down again by his writing-table.
The windows were open and the blinds were
drawn together to keep out the glare, for it was
a hot day. A vague and delicious suggestion of
Florentine orris-root spread through the warm air
as the Princess sat down. Malipieri watched her
face, but her expression showed no signs of any
inward disturbance.

' Are you sure that nobody will interrupt us ? '
she asked, as Masin went out and shut the door.

* Quite sure. What can I do to serve you ? '

* I have had this disgusting letter.'

She produced a small, coarse envelope from
the pale mauve pocket-book she carried in her
hand, and held it out to Malipieri, who took it,
and read it carefully. It was not quite easy for
him to understand, as Gigi wrote in the Roman
dialect without any particular punctuation, and
using capitals whenever it occurred to him, except
at the beginning of a sentence. To Malipieri, as
a Venetian, it was at first sight about as easy as a
chorus of j^schylus looks to an average pass-man.

As the sense became clear to him, his eyelids
contracted, and his face was drawn as if he were
in bodily pain.

' When did you get this ? ' he asked, folding
the letter and putting it back into the envelope.

' Five or six days ago, I think. I am not sure
of the date, but it does not matter. It says the
money must be paid in ten days, does it not?
Yes — something like that. I know there is some
time left. I have come to you because I have
tried everything else.'

34o THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

* Everything else ? ' cried Malipieri, in sudden
anxiety. ' What in the world have you tried ? '

' I sent for Volterra the day after I got this.'
' Oh ! ' Malipieri was .somewhat relieved.

* What did he advise you to do ? To employ

a detective ? '

* Oh dear no ! Nothing so simple and natural.
That man is an utter brute, and I am sorry I left
Sabina so long with his wife. She would have
been much better in the convent with her sister.
I am afraid that is where she will end, poor child,
and it will be all your fault, though you never
meant any harm. You do not think you could
divorce and marry her, do you ? '

Malipieri stared at her a moment, and then bit
his lip to check the answer. He had no right to
resent whatever she chose to say to him, for he
was responsible for all the trouble, and for Sabina's
good name.

' There is no divorce law in Italy,' he answered,
controlling himself. ' Why do you say that
Volterra is an utter brute ? What did he advise
you to do ? '

' He offered to silence the creature who wrote
this letter if I would make a bargain with him.
He said he would pay the money, if I would give
Sabina to his second son, who is a cavalry officer
in Turin, and whom none of us has ever seen.'

Malipieri's lips moved, but he said nothing
that could be heard. A vein that ran down the
middle of his forehead was swollen, and there was
a bad look in his eyes.

' I would rather see the child dead than married

xxi THE HEART OF ROME 341

to one of those disgusting people,' the Princess
said. * Did you ever hear of such impertinence ? '

' You let her live with them for more than two
months,' observed Itylalipieri.

' I know I did. It was simply impossible to
think of anything better in the confusion, and as
they offered to take charge of her, I consented.
Yes, it was foolish, but I did not suppose that
they would Jet her go off in a cab with that old
dotard and stay out all night.'

Malipieri felt as if she were driving a blunt
nail into his head.

' Poor Sassi ! ' he said. ' He was buried
yesterday.'

* Was he ? I am not in the least sorry for him.
He always made trouble, and this was the worst
of all. Sabina almost cried because I would not
let her go and see him at the hospital. You
know, he never spoke after he was taken there —
he did not feel anything.'

Malipieri wondered whether the Princess, in
another sense, had ever felt anything, a touch of
real pity, or real love, for any human being. He
did not remember to have ever met a woman who
had struck him as so utterly heartless ; and yet
he could not forget the look that had come into
her face, and the simple words she had spoken,
when he had told her his story.

' I understand that you refused Volterra's pro-
posal,' he said, returning to the present trouble.
* Do you mean to say that he declined to help you
unless you would accept it.'

'Oh no ! He only said that as I was not

342

THE HEART OF ROME

disposed to accept what would make it so much
easier, he would have to think it over. I have
not seen him since.'

' But you understand what he had planned, do
you not ? ' Malipieri asked. ' It is very simple/

* It is not so clear to me. I am not at all
clever, you know.' The Princess laughed care-
lessly. ' He must have a very good reason for
offering to pay a hundred thousand francs in order
that his son may marry Sabina, who has not a
penny. I confess, if it were not an impertinence,
it would look like a foolish caprice. I suppose
he thinks it would be socially advantageous.'

Her lip curled and showed her even white
teeth.

' His wife is a snob,' Malipieri answered, ' but
Volterra does not care for anything but power
and money, except perhaps for the sort of reputa-
tion he has, and which helps him to get both.'

' Then of what possible use could it be to him
to marry his son to Sabina, and to throw all that
money away for the sake of getting her ? '

Malipieri hesitated, not sure whether it would
be wise to tell her all he thought.

* In the first place,' he said slowly, ' I do not
believe he would really pay the blackmail, or if
he did, he would catch the man, get the money
back, and have him sent to penal servitude. He
is very clever, and in his position he can have
whatever help he asks from the government,
especially in a just cause, as that would be.
Perhaps he thinks that he has guessed who the
man is.'

THE HEART OF ROME 343

* Have you any idea ? ' asked the Princess,
glancing down at the dirty little letter she still held.

* In the second place,' Malipieri continued,
without heeding the question, ' I am almost sure
that when you were in difficulties, two or three
months ago, he got the better of you, as he gets
the better of every one. With the value of these
statues, he has probably pocketed a couple of
million francs by the transaction.'

* The wretch ! ' exclaimed the Princess. ' I wish
you were my lawyer ! You have such a clear
way of putting things.'

Even then Malipieri smiled.

' I have always believed what I have just told
you,' he answered. * That was the reason why I
hoped that Donna Sabina might yet recover what
she should have had from the estate. Volterra is
sure that if you can take proper steps, you will
recover a large sum, and that is why he is so
anxious to marry his son to your daughter. He
thinks the match would settle the whole affair.'

' The idiot ! As if I did not need the money
myself!'

Again Malipieri smiled.

* But you will not get it,' he answered. * You
will certainly not get it if Volterra is interested in
the matter, for it will all go to your daughter.
Your other two children have had their share of
their father's estate, and that of the daughters
should have amounted to at least two millions
each. But Donna Sabina has never had a penny.
Whatever is recovered from Volterra will go to
her, not to you.'

344 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

' It would be the same thing,' observed the
Princess carelessly.

* Not exactly,' Malipieri said, ' for the Court
will appoint legal guardians, and the money will
be paid to her intact when she comes of age. In
other words, if she marries Volterra's son, the
little fortune will return to Volterra's family. But
of course, if you consented to the marriage, he
would compromise for the money, before the suit
was brought, by settling the two millions upon
his daughter-in-law, and if he offered to do that,
as he would, no respectable lawyer in the world
would undertake to carry on the suit, because
Volterra would have acted in strict justice. Do
you see ? '

' Yes. It is very disappointing, but I suppose
you are right.'

' I know I am, except about the exact sum
involved. I am an architect by profession, I
know something of Volterra's affairs and I do
not think I am very far wrong. Very good.
But Volterra has accidentally got hold of a terrible
weapon against you, in the shape of this black-
mailer's letter.'

' Then you advise me to accept his offer after all ?'

' He knows that you must, unless you can find
something better. You are in his power.'

' But why should I, if I am to get nothing by
it ? ' asked the Princess absent-mindedly.

' There is Donna Sabina's good name at stake,'
Malipieri answered, with a little sternness.

' I had forgotten. Of course ! How stupid of

me :

THE HEART OF ROME 345

For a moment Malipieri knew that he should
like to box her ears, woman though she was ; then
he felt a sort of pity for her, such as one feels for
half-witted creatures that cannot help themselves
nor control their instincts.

' Then I must accept, and let Sabina marry that
man,' she said, after a moment's silence. * Tell
me frankly, is that what you think I ought to
do?'

' If Donna Sabina wishes to marry him, it will
be a safe solution,' Malipieri answered steadily.

* My dear man, she is in love with you ! ' cried
the Princess, in one of her sudden fits of frankness.

* She told me so the other day in so many words,
when she was so angry because I would not let her
go to see poor old Sassi die. She said that you
and he and her schoolmistress were the only human
beings who had ever been good to her, or for whom
she had ever cared. You may just as well know
it, since you cannot marry her ! '

In a calmer moment, Malipieri might have
doubted the logic of the last statement ; but at the
present moment he was not very calm, and he
turned a pencil nervously in his fingers, standing
it alternately on its point and its blunt end, upon
the blotting-paper beside him, and looking at the
marks it made.

' How can she possibly wish to marry that
Volterra creature ? ' asked the Princess, by way of
conclusion. * She will have to, that is all, whether
she likes it or not. After all, nobody seems to care
much, nowadays,' she added in a tone of reflection.

* It is only the idea. I always heard that Volterra

346 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

kept a pawn-shop in Florence, and then became a
dealer in bric-a-brac, and afterwards a banker, and
all sorts of things. But it may not be true, and
after all, it is only prejudice. A banker may be a
very respectable person, you know.'

' Certainly,' assented Malipieri, wishing that he
could feel able to smile at her absurd talk, as a
sick man wishes that he could feel hungry when
he sees a dish he likes very much, and only feels
the worse for the mere thought of touching food.

' Nothing but prejudice,' the Princess repeated.
' I daresay he was never really a pawnbroker and
is quite respectable. By the bye, do you think he
wrote this letter himself? It would be just like
him.'

' No,' Malipieri answered. ' I am sure he did
not. Volterra never did anything in his life which
could not at least be defended in law. The letter
is genuine.'

' Then there is some one who knows, besides
ourselves and Volterra and his wife ? '

' Yes. I am sure of it.'

' You are so clever. You must be able to find
out who it is.'

' I will try. But I am sure of one thing. Even
if the money is not paid on the day, the story will
not be published at once. The man will try again
and again to get money from you. There is plenty
of time.'

' Unless it is a piece of servants' vengeance,'
the Princess said. * Our servants were always
making trouble before we left the palace, I could
never understand why. If it is that, we shall never

THE HEART OF ROME 347

be safe. Will you come and see me, if you think
of any plan ? '

She rose to go.

* I will go to the Embassy to-morrow afternoon,
between three and four.'

' Thanks. Do you know ? I really cannot
help liking you, though I think you are behaving
abominably. I am sure you could get a divorce
in Switzerland.'

'We will not talk about that,' Malipieri
answered, a little harshly.

When she was gone, he called Masin, and then
instead of explaining what he wanted, he threw
himself into an armchair and sat in silence for
nearly half an hour.

Masin was used to his master's ways and did
not speak, but occupied himself in noiselessly
dusting the mantelpiece at least a hundred times
over.

CHAPTER XXII

VOLTERRA had not explained to the Princess the
reason why her acceptance of his offer would make
it so much easier for him to help her out of her
difficulty. He had only said that it would, for
he never explained anything to a woman if an
explanation could be avoided, and he had found
that there are certain general ways of stating things
to which women will assent rather than seem not
to understand. If the Princess had asked questions,
he would have found plausible answers, but she
did not. She refused his offer, saying that she
had other views for her daughter. She promptly
invented a rich cousin in Poland, who had fallen
in love with Sabina's photograph and was only
waiting for her to be eighteen years old in order
to marry her.

She had gone to Malipieri as a last resource,
not thinking it probable that he could help her, or
that he would change his mind and try to free him-
self in order to marry Sabina. She came back with
the certainty that he would not do the latter and
could not give any real assistance. So far, she had
not spoken to Sabina of her interview with the
Baron, but she felt that the time had come to

348

CHAP, xxn THE HEART OF ROME 349

sound her on the subject of the marriage, since there
might not be any other way. She had not lost
time since her arrival, for she had at once seen one
of the best lawyers in Rome, who looked after such
legal business as the Russian Embassy occasion-
ally had, and he had immediately applied for a
revision of the settlement of the Conti affairs, on
the ground of large errors in the estimates of
the property, supporting his application with the
plea that many of the proceedings in the matter
had been technically faulty because certain docu-
ments should have been signed by Sabina, as a
minor interested in the estate, and whose consent
was necessary. He was of opinion that the revi-
sion would certainly be granted, but he would
say nothing as to the amount which might be re-
covered by the Conti family. As a matter of fact,
the settlement had been made hastily, between
Volterra, old Sassi and a notary who was not a
lawyer ; and Volterra, who knew what he was
about, and profited largely by it, had run the
risk of a revision being required. For the rest,
Malipieri's explanation of his motives was the
true one.

At the first suggestion of a marriage with
Volterra's son Sabina flatly refused to entertain
the thought. She made no outcry, she did not
even raise her voice, nor change colour ; but she
planted her little feet firmly together on the
footstool before her chair, folded her hands in her
lap and looked straight at her mother.

' I will not marry him,' she said. ' It is of no
use to try to make me. I will not.'

350 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

Her mother began to draw a flattering though
imaginary portrait of the young cavalry officer, and
enlarged upon his fortune and future position.
Volterra was immensely rich, and though he was
not quite one of themselves, society had accepted
him, his sons had been admirably brought up,
and would be as good as any one. There was not
a prince in Rome who would not be glad to make
such a match for his daughter.

' It is quite useless, mother,' said Sabina. ' I
would not marry him if he were Prince Colonna
and had the Rothschilds' money.'

' That is absurd,' answered the Princess. ' Just
because you have taken a fancy to that Malipieri,
who cannot marry you because he has done the
most insane thing any one ever heard of.'

' It was splendid,' Sabina retorted.

' Besides,' her mother said, ' you do not know
that it is true.'

Sabina's eyes flashed.

' Whatever he says, is true,' she answered,
' and you know it is. He never lied in his life ! '

* No,' said the Princess, ' I really think he
never did.'

' Then why did you suggest such a thing, when
you know that I love him ? '

* One says things, sometimes,' replied the
Princess vaguely. ' I did not really mean it, and I
cannot help liking the man. I told him so this
morning. Now listen. Volterra is a perfect
beast, and if you refuse, he is quite capable of
letting that story get about, and you will be
ruined.'

xxu THE HEART OF ROME 351

* I will go into a convent.'

4 You know that you hate Clementina,' ob-
served the Princess.

* Of course I do. She used to beat me when
I was small, because she said I was wicked. Of
course I hate her. I shall join the Little Sisters of
the Poor, or be a Sister of Charity. Even Clemen-
tina could not object to that, I should think.'

* You are a little fool ! '

To this observation Sabina made no reply, for
it was not new to her, and she paid no attention to
it. She supposed that all mothers called their
children fools when they were angry. It was one
of the privileges of motherhood.

The discussion ended there, for Sabina presently
went away and shut herself up in her room, leaving
her mother to meditate in solitude on the incredible
difficulties that surrounded her.

Sabina was thinking, too, but her thoughts ran
in quite another direction, as she sat bolt upright
on a straight -backed chair, staring at the wall
opposite. She was wondering how Malipieri looked
at that moment, and how it was possible that she
should not even have seen him since she had left
his rooms with the Baroness, a week ago, and
more ; and why, when every hour had dragged
like an age, it seemed as if they had parted only
yesterday, sure to meet again.

She sat still a long time, trying to think out a
future for herself, a future life without Malipieri
and yet bearable. It would have been easy before
the night in the vaults ; it would have seemed
possible a week ago, though very hard ; now, it

352 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

was beyond her imagination. She had talked of
entering a sisterhood, but she knew that she did
not mean to do it, even if her reputation were
ruined.

She guessed that in that event her mother would
try to force her into a convent. The Princess was
not the sort of woman who would devote the rest
of her life to consoling her disgraced daughter, no
matter how spotlessly blameless the girl might
be. She would look upon her as a burden and a
nuisance, would shut her up if she could, and
would certainly go off to Russia or to Paris, to
amuse herself as far as possible from the scene of
Sabina's unfortunate adventure.

' Poor child ! ' she would say to her intimate
friends. ' She was perfectly innocent, of course,
but there was nothing else to be done. No decent
man would have married her, you know ! '

And she would tell Malipieri's story to every-
body, too, to explain why he had not married
Sabina. She had no heart at all, for her children
or for any one else. She had always despised her
son for his weaknesses and miserable life, and she
had always laughed at her elder daughter ; if she
had been relatively kind to Sabina, it was because
the girl had never given any trouble nor asked
for anything extravagantly inconvenient. She had
never felt the least sympathy with the Roman life
into which she had been brought by force, and
after her husband had died she had plainly shown
his quiet Roman relatives what she thought of
them.

She would cast Sabina off without even a care-

THE HEART OF ROME 353

less kind word, if Sabina became a drag on her and
hindered her from doing what she pleased in the
world. And this would happen, if the story about
the night in the Palazzo Conti were made public.
Just so long, and no longer, would the Princess
acknowledge her daughter's existence ; and that
meant so long as Volterra chose that the secret
should be kept.

At least, Sabina thought so. But matters turned
out differently and were hurried to an issue in a
terribly unexpected way.

Both Volterra and Malipieri had guessed that
the anonymous letter had been written by Gigi,
the carpenter, but Volterra had seen it several days
before the Princess had shown it to Malipieri.
Not unnaturally, the Baron thought that it would
be a good move to get the man into his power.
Italy is probably not the only country where men
powerful in politics and finance can induce the law
to act with something more than normal prompti-
tude, and Volterra, as usual, was not going to do
anything illegal. The Minister of Justice, too,
was one of those men who had been fighting against
the Sicilian ' mafia ' and the Neapolitan ' camorra '
for many years, and he hated all blackmailers with
a just and deadly hatred. He was also glad to
oblige the strong Senator, who was just now sup-
porting the government with his influence and
his millions. Volterra was sure of the culprit's
identity, and explained that the detective who had
been sent to investigate the palace after Sassi's
accident had seen the carpenter and would recognize
him. Nothing would be easier than to send for

2 A

354 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

Gigi to do a job at the palace, towards evening, to
arrest him as soon as he came, and to take him
away quietly.

This was done, and in twenty-four hours Gigi
was safely lodged in a cell by himself, with orders
that he was on no account to be allowed any com-
munication with other prisoners. Then Volterra
went to see him, and instead of threatening him,
offered him his help if he would only tell the exact
truth. Gigi was frightened out of his wits and
grasped at the straw, though he did not trust the
Baron much. He told what he had done ; but with
the loyalty to friends, stimulated by the fear of
vengeance, which belongs to the Roman working
man, he flatly denied that he had an accomplice.
Yes, he had spoken in the letter of two men who
would be walking on the Via Appia, and he had
intended to take his brother-in-law with him, but
he said that he had not meant to explain why he
took him until the last minute. It was a matter
for the galleys ! Did his Excellency the Senator
suppose that he would trust anybody with that,
until it was necessary ?

The consequence was that Gigi was kept quietly
in prison for a few days before any further steps
were taken, having been arrested at the instance of
the Ministry of Justice for trying to extract black-
mail from the Conti family, and being undoubtedly
guilty of the misdeed. Volterra's name did not
even appear in the statement.

Malipieri had not Volterra's influence, and in-
tended to try more personal methods with the
carpenter ; but when he appeared at the palace in

THE HEART OF ROME 355

the afternoon, and asked the porter to go and call
Gigi, the old man shook his head and said that
Gigi had been in prison three days, and that
nobody knew why he had been arrested. The
matter had not even been mentioned by the
Messaggero.

Malipieri had never connected Toto with Gigi,
and did not even know that the two men were
acquainted with each other. He had not the
slightest doubt but that it was Toto who had
caused the water to rise in the well, out of revenge,
but he knew that it would now be impossible to
prove it. Strange to say, Malipieri bore him no
grudge, for he knew the people well, and after
all, he himself had acted in a high-handed way.
Nevertheless, he asked the porter if the man were
anywhere in the neighbourhood.

But Toto had not been seen for some time.
He had not even been to the wine-shop, and was
probably at work in some distant part of Rome.
Perhaps he was celebrating his grandfather's funeral
with his friends. Nobody could tell where he
might be.

Malipieri went back to his hotel disconsolately.
That evening he read in the Italic that after poor
Sassi had been buried, the authorities had at once
proceeded to take charge of his property and
effects, because the old woman-servant had declared
that he had no near relations in the world ; and
the notary who had served the Conti family had
at once produced Sassi's will.

He had left all his little property, valued
roughly at over a hundred thousand francs, to

356 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

Donna Sabina Conti. Had any one known it, the
date of the will was that of the day on which he had
received her little note thanking him for burying her
canary, out on Monte Mario.

The notary's brother and son, notaries them-
selves, were named as guardians. The income
was to be paid to Sabina at once, the capital on
her marriage. The newspaper paragraph recalled
the ruin of the great family, and spoke of the will
as a rare instance of devotion in an old and trusted
servant.

Sabina and the Princess learned the news at
dinner that evening from a young Attache of the
Embassy who always read the Italic because it is
published in French, and he had not yet learned
Italian. He laughingly congratulated Sabina on
her accession to a vast fortune. To every one's
amazement, Sabina's eyes filled with tears, though
even her own mother had scarcely ever seen her
cry. She tried hard to control herself, pressed her
lids hastily with her ringers, bit her lips till they
almost bled, and then, as the drops rolled down
her cheeks in spite of all she could do, she left the
table with a broken word of excuse.

' She is nothing but a child, still,' the Princess
explained in a tone of rather condescending pity.

The young Attache was sorry for having laughed
when he told the story. He had not supposed
that Donna Sabina knew much about the old agent,
and after dinner he apologized to his Ambassador
for his lack of tact.

* That little girl has a heart of gold,' answered
the wise old man of the world.

xxn THE HEART OF ROME 357

The Princess had a profoundly superstitious
belief in luck, and was convinced that Sabina's and
her own had turned with this first piece of good
fortune, and that on the following day Malipieri
would appear and tell her that he had caught the
writer of the letter and was ready to divorce his
wife in order to marry Sabina. Secure in these
hopes she slept eight hours without waking, as she
always did.

But she was destined to the most complete
disappointment of her life, and to spend one of
the most horribly unpleasant days she could re-
member.

Long before she was awake boys and men, with
sheaves of damp papers, were yelling the news in
the Corso and throughout Rome.

' The Messaggero ! The great scandal in Casa
Conti ! The Messaggero ! One sou ! '

CHAPTER XXIII

TOTO had done it. In his heart, the thick-headed,
practical fellow had never quite believed in Gigi's
ingenious scheme, and the idea of getting a hun-
dred thousand francs had seemed very visionary.
Since Gigi had got himself locked up it would be
more sensible to realize a little cash for the story
from the Messaggero^ saying nothing about the
carpenter. The only lie he needed to invent was to
the effect that he had been standing near the door
of the palace when Sabina had come out. The
porter, being relieved from the order to keep the
postern shut against everybody, had been quite
willing to gossip with Toto about the detective's
visit, the closed room and Malipieri's refusal to let
any one enter it. As for what had happened in
the vaults, Toto could reconstruct the exact truth
much more accurately than Gigi could have done,
even with his help. It was a thrilling story ; the
newspaper paid him well for it and printed it with
reservations.

There was not a suggestion of offence to Sabina,
such as might have afforded ground for an action
against the paper, or against those that copied the
story from it. The writer was careful to extol

358

CHAP, xxui THE HEART OF ROME 359

Malipieri's heroic courage and strength, and to
point out that Sabina had been half-dead of fatigue
and cold, as Toto knew must have been the case.
It was all a justification, and not in the least an
accusation. But the plain, bald fact was proved,
that Donna Sabina Conti had spent the night in
the rooms of the now famous Signer Malipieri,
no one else being in the apartment during the
whole time. He had saved her life like a hero,
and had acted like a Bayard in all he had done for
the unfortunate young lady. It was an adventure
worthy of the Middle Ages. It was magnificent.
Her family, informed at once by Malipieri, had
come to get her on the following morning. Toto
had told the people at the office of the Messaggero^
who it was that had represented the ' family,' but
the little newspaper was far too worldly-wise to
mention Volterra in such a connection. Donna
Sabina, the article concluded, was now with her
mother at the Russian Embassy.

The evening papers simply enlarged upon this
first story, and in the same strain. Malipieri was
held up to the admiration of the public. Sabina's
name was treated with profound respect, there was
not a word which could be denied with truth, or
resented with a show of justice. And yet, in Italy,
and most of all in Rome, it meant ruin to Sabina,
and the reprobation of all decent people upon
Malipieri if he did not immediately marry her.

It was the Ambassador himself who informed
the Princess of what had happened, coming him-
self to the sitting-room as soon as he learned that
she was visible. He stayed with her a long time,

360 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

and they sent for Sabina, who was by far the least
disturbed of the three. It was all true, she said,
and there was nothing against her in the article.

Masin brought the news to Malipieri with his
coffee, and the paper itself. Malipieri scarcely
ever read it, but Masin never failed to, and his
big, healthy face was very grave.

Malipieri felt as if he were going to have brain
fever, as his eye ran along the lines.

' Masin/ he said, when he had finished, ' did
you ever kill a man ? '

' No, Sir,' answered Masin. ' You have always
believed that I was innocent, though I had to
serve my seven years.'

* I did not mean that,' said Malipieri.

Then he sat a long time with his untasted
coffee at his elbow and the crumpled little sheet in
his hand.

' Of course, Sir,' Masin said at last, * I owe you
everything, and if you ordered me '

He paused significantly, but his master did not
understand.

' What ? ' he asked, starting nervously.

{ Well, Sir, if it were necessary for your safety,
that somebody should be killed, I would risk the
galleys for life, Sir. What am I, without you ? '

Malipieri laughed a little wildly, and dropped
the paper.

' No, my friend,' he said, presently, ' we would
risk our lives for each other, but we are not
murderers. Besides, there is nobody to be killed,
unless you will have the goodness to put a bullet
through my head.'

THE HEART OF ROME 361

And he laughed again, in a way that frightened
the quiet man beside him. What drove him
almost mad was that he was powerless. He
longed to lay his hands on the editor of the paper,
yet there was not a word, not a suggestion, not an
implied allusion for which any man in his senses
could have demanded an apology. It was the
plain truth, and nothing else ; except that it was
adorned by fragmentary panegyrics of himself,
which made it even more exasperating if that were
possible. He had not only wrecked Sabina's repu-
tation by his quixotic folly ; he was to be praised
to the skies for doing it.

His feverish anger turned into a dull pain that
was much worse. The situation looked utterly
hopeless. Masin stood still beside him watching
him with profound concern, and presently took
the cup of coffee and held it to his lips. He
drank a little, like a sick man, only half con-
sciously, and drew back, and shook his head.
Masin did not know what to do and waited in
mute distress, as a big dog, knowing that his
master is in trouble, looks up into his face and
feebly wags his sympathetic tail, just a little, at
long intervals, and then keeps quite still.

Malipieri gradually recovered his senses enough
to think connectedly, and he tried to remember
whether he had ever heard of a situation like his
own. As he was neither a novelist nor a critic, he
failed, and frankly asked himself whether suicide
might not be a way out of the difficulty for Sabina.
He was not an unbeliever, and he had always
abhorred and despised the idea of suicide, as most

362 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

thoroughly healthy men do when it occurs to
them ; but if at that time he could have persuaded
himself that his death could undo the harm he had
brought upon Sabina he would not have hesitated
a moment. Neither his body nor his soul could
matter much in comparison with her good name.
Hell was full of people who had got there because
they had done bad things for their own advantage ;
if he went there, it would at least not be for that.
He did not think of hell at all, just then, nor of
heaven or of anything else that was very far off.
He only thought of Sabina, and if he once wished
himself dead for his own sake, he drove the
cowardly thought away. As long as he was alive,
he could still do something for her — surely, there
must be something that he could do. There
must be a way out, if he could only use his wits
and his strength, as he had made a way out of the
vaults, for her to pass through, ten days ago.

There was nothing, or at least, he could think
of nothing that could help her. To try and free
himself from the bond he had put upon himself
would be to break a solemn promise given to a
dying man whom he had dearly loved. The
woman he had seen that once, to marry her and
leave her, had been worthy of the sacrifice, too, as
far as lay in her. He had given her a small
income, enough for her and her little girl to live
on comfortably. She had not only kept within it,
but had learned to support herself, little by little,
till she had refused to take the money that was
sent to her. At regular times, she wrote to him, as
to a benefactor, touching and truthful letters, with

THE HEART OF ROME 363

news of the growing child. He knew that it was
all without affectation of any sort, and that she
had turned out a thoroughly good and honest
woman. The little girl knew that her father was
dead, and that her own name was really and
legally Malipieri, beyond a doubt. Her mother
kept the copy of her certificate of birth together with
the certificate of marriage. The Signora Malipieri
lived as a widow in Florence and gave lessons in
music and Italian. She had never asked but one
thing of Malipieri, which was that he would never
try to see her, nor let her daughter know that he
was alive. It was easy to promise that. He knew
that she had been most faithful to her lover's
memory, cherishing the conviction that in the
justice of heaven he was her true husband, as he
would have been indeed had he lived but a few
months longer. She was bringing up her child
to be like herself, save for her one fault. Mali-
pieri had settled a sufficient dowry on the girl, lest
anything should happen to him before she was old
enough to marry.

The mere suggestion of divorcing a woman
who had acted as she had done since his friend's
death, was horrible to him. It was like receiving
a blow in the face, it was mud upon his honour, it
was an insult to his conscience, it was far worse
than merely taking back a gift once given
in a generous impulse. If he had felt himself
capable of such baseness he could never again have
looked honest men fairly in the eyes. It would
mean that he must turn upon her, to insult her by
accusing her of something she had never done ;

364 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

he knew nothing of the divorce laws in foreign
countries, except that Italians could obtain divorce
by a short residence and could then come back
and marry again under Italian law. That was all
he knew. The Princess had not asked of him
a legal impossibility, but he had felt, when she
spoke, that it would be easier to explain the dogma
of Papal Infallibility to a Chinese pirate than to
make her understand how he felt towards the good
woman who had a right to live under his name
and had borne it so honourably for many years.

Sabina would understand. He wished now,
with all his heart, that in the hours they had spent
together he had told her the secret which he had
been obliged to confide to her mother. He
wondered whether she knew it, and hoped that she
did. She would at least understand his silence
now, she would know why he was not at the
Embassy that morning as soon as he could be
received by her mother. She might not forgive
him, because she knew that he loved her, but she
would see why he could not divorce in order to
marry her.

An hour passed, and two hours, and still he sat
in his chair, while Masin came and went softly, as
if his master were ill. Then reporters sent up cards,
with urgently polite requests to be received, and
he had to give orders that he was not to be dis-
turbed on any account. He would see no one, he
would answer no questions, until he had made up
his mind what to do.

At last he rose, shook himself, walked twice
up and down the room and then spoke to Masin.

xxm THE HEART OF ROME 365

* I am going out,' he said. ' I shall be back in
an hour.'

He had seen that there was at least one thing
which he must do at once, and after stopping short,
stunned to stupor by what had happened, his life
began to move on again. It was manifestly his duty
to see the Princess again, and he knew that she
would receive him, for she would think that he had
changed his mind after all, and meant to free him-
self. He must see her and say something, he
knew not what, to convince her that he was acting
honourably.

He was shown to her sitting-room, as if he
were expected. It was not long since the Am-
bassador had left her, and her daughter had gone
back to her room, and she was in a humour, in
which he had not seen her before, as he guessed
when he saw her face. Her wonderful complexion
was paler than usual, her brows were drawn
together, her eyes were angry, there was nothing
languid or careless in her attitude, and she held
her head high.

' I expected you,' she said. ' I sent word that
you were to come up at once.'

She did not even put out her hand, but there
was a chair opposite her and she nodded towards
it. He sat down, feeling that a struggle was
before him.

'The Ambassador has just been here,' she said.
* He brought the newspaper with him, and I have
read the article. I suppose you have seen it.'

Malipieri bent his head, but kept his eyes upon
her.

366 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

' I have told the Ambassador that Sabina is
engaged to marry you,' she said, calmly.

Malipieri started and sat upright in his chair.
If he had known her better, he might have guessed
that what she said was untrue, as yet ; but she had
made the statement with magnificent assurance.

* Your engagement will be announced in the
papers this evening,' she continued. 'Shall you
deny it ? *

She looked at him steadily, and he returned her
gaze, but for a long time he could not answer.
She had him at a terrible advantage.

' I shall not deny it publicly,' he said at last.
'That would be an injury to your daughter.'

Shall you deny it at all ? ' She was conscious
of her strong position, and meant to hold it.

* I shall write to the lady who is Jiving under
my name, and I shall tell her the circumstances,
and that I am obliged to allow the announcement
to be made by you.'

' Give me your word that you will not deny
your engagement to any one else. You know
that I have a right to require that. My daughter
knows that you are married.'

Malipieri hesitated only a moment.

' I give you my word,' he said.

She rose at once and went towards one of the
doors, without looking at him. He wondered
whether she meant to dismiss him rudely, and
stood looking after her. She stopped a moment,
with her hand on the knob of the lock, and
glanced back.

' I will call Sabina,' she said, and she was gone.

THE HEART OF ROME 367

He stood still and waited, and two or three
minutes passed before Sabina entered. She glanced
at him, smiled rather gravely, and looked round
the room as she came forward, as if expecting to
see some one else.

' Where is my mother ? ' she asked, holding
out her hand.

* She said she was going to call you,' MaJipieri
answered.

* So she did, and she told me she was coming
back to you, because I was not quite ready.'

* She did not come back.'

* She means us to be alone/ Sabina said, and
suddenly she took both his hands and pressed
them a little, shaking them up and down, almost
childishly. * I am so glad ! ' she cried. * I was
longing to see you ! '

Even then, Malipieri could not help smiling,
and for a moment he forgot all his troubles.
When they sat down, side by side, upon a little
sofa, the Princess was already telling the Ambassa-
dor that Malipieri had come and that they were
engaged to be married. She had carried the
situation by a masterstroke.

' She has told you all about me,' Malipieri said,
turning his face to Sabina. ' You know what my
life is. Has she told you everything ? '

* Yes,' Sabina answered softly, but not meeting
his look, * everything. But I want to hear it from
you. Will you tell me ? Will it hurt you to tell
me about what you did for your friend ? You
know my mother is not always very accurate in
telling a story. I shall understand why you did it.'

368 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

He had known that she would, and he told her
the story, a little less baldly than he had told her
mother, yet leaving out such details as she need
not hear. He hesitated a little, once or twice.

' I understand,' she repeated, watching him with
innocent eyes. ' She felt just as if they were really
married, and he could not bear to die, feeling
that she would be without protection, and that
other men would all want to marry her, because
she was beautiful. And her father and mother
were angry because she loved him so much.'

' Yes,' Malipieri answered, smiling, ' that was
it. They loved each other dearly.'

' It was splendid of you,' she said. ' I never
dreamt that any man would do such a thing.'

* It cannot be undone.' He was at least free
to say that much, sadly.

There was a pause, and they looked away from
each other. At last Sabina laid her hand lightly
upon his for a moment, though she did not turn
her face to him.

* I should not like you so much, if you wished to
undo it,' she said.

' Thank you,' he answered, withdrawing the
hand she released when she had finished speaking,
and folding it upon his other. ' I should love
you less, if you did not understand me so well.'

' It is more than understanding. It is much
more.'

He remembered how he had taken her slender
body in his arms to warm her when she had been
almost dead of the cold and dampness, and a mad
impulse was in him to press her to him now, as he

THE HEART OF ROME 369

had done then, and to feel her small fair head lay
itself upon his shoulder peacefully, as it surely
would. He sat upright and pressed one hand
upon the other rather harder than before.

'You believe it, do you not?' she asked.
* Why is your face so hard ? '

'Because I am bound hand and foot, like a
man who is carried to execution.'

* But we can always love each other just the
same,' Sabina said, and her voice was warm and
soft.

' Yes, always, and that will not make it
easier to live without you,' he answered, rather
harshly.

'You need not,' she said, after an instant's
pause.

He turned suddenly, startled, not under-
standing, wondering what she could mean. She
met his eyes quite quietly, and he saw how deep
and steady hers were, and the light in them.

' You need not live without me unless you
please,' she said.

' But I must, since I cannot marry you, and
you understand that I could not be divorced '

' My mother has just told me that no decent
man will marry me, because all the world knows
that I stayed at the palace that night. She must
be right, for she could have no object in saying it
if it were not true, could she ? Then what does it
matter how any one talks about me now? I will
go with you. We cannot marry, but we shall
always be together.'

Malipieri's face expressed his amazement.

2 B

370 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

* But it is impossible ! ' he cried. * You can-
not do that ! You do not know what you are
saying ! '

' Oh yes, I do ! That poor, kind old Sassi has
left me all he had, and I can go where I please.
I will go with you. Would you rather have me
shut up in a convent to die ? That is what my
mother will try to do with me, and she will
tell people that I was " mad, poor girl " ! Do
you think I do not know her? She wants this
little sum of money that I am to have, too, as if
she and the others had not spent all I should have
had. Do you think I am bound to obey my
mother, if she takes me to the convent door, and
tells me that I am to stay there for the rest of my
life ? '

The gentle voice was clear and strong and
indignant now. Malipieri twisted his fingers one
upon another, and sat with his head bent low.
He knew that she had no clear idea of what she
was saying when she proposed to join her existence
with his. Her maiden thoughts could find no
harm in it.

'You do not know what your mother said to
me, before you came in,' he answered. ' She told
me that she would announce our engagement at
once, and made me give my word that I would
not deny it to any one but my legal wife.'

* You gave your word ? ' Sabina asked quickly,
not at all displeased.

' What could I do ? '

* Nothing else ! I am glad you did, for we can
see each other as much as we like now. But how

THE HEART OF ROME 371

shall we manage it in the end, since we cannot
marry ? '

' Break the imaginary engagement, I suppose,
Malipieri answered gloomily. * I see nothing else
to be done.'

* But then my mother says that no decent man
will marry me. It will be just the same, all over
again. It was very clever of her ; she is trying to
force you to do what she wants. In the mean-
time you can come and see me every day — that is
the best part of it. Besides, she will leave us
alone together here, for hours, because she thinks
that the more you fall in love with me the more
you will wish to get a divorce. Oh, she is a very
clever woman ! You do not know her as I do ! '

Malipieri marvelled at the amazing combination
of girlish innocence and keen insight into her
mother's worldly and cynical character, which
Sabina had shown during the last few minutes.
There never yet was a man in love with girl or
woman who did not find in her something he had
never dreamt of before.

' She is clever,' he assented gravely, ' but she
cannot make me break that promise, even for
your sake. I cannot help looking forward and
thinking what the end must be.'

' It is much better to enjoy the present,* Sabina
answered. * We can be together every day. You
will write to your — no, she is not your wife, and I
will not call her so ! She would not be really
your wife if she could, for she made you promise
never to go and see her. That was nice of her,
for of course she knew that if she saw you often,

372 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

she must end by falling in love with you. Any
woman would ; you know it perfectly well.
You need not shake your head at me, like that.
You will write to her, and explain, and she will
understand, and then we will let things go on as
long as they can till something else happens.'

* What can possibly happen ? '

'Something always happens. Things never go
on very long without a change, do they ? I am
sure, everything in my life has changed half a
dozen times in the last fortnight.'

' In mine, too,' Malipieri answered.

' And if things get worse, and if worse comes
to worst,' Sabina answered, ' I have told you what
I mean to do. I shall come to you, wherever you
are, and you will have to let me stay, no matter
what people choose to say. That is, if you still
care for me ! '

She laughed softly and happily, and not in the
least recklessly, though she was talking of throw-
ing the world and all connexion with it to the
winds. The immediate future looked bright to
her, since they were to meet every day, and after
that, ' something ' would happen. If nothing did,
and they had to face trouble again, they would
meet it bravely. That was all any one could do
in life. She had found happiness too suddenly,
after an unhappy childhood, to dream of letting it
go, cost what it might to keep it.

But she saw how grave he looked and the
hopeless expression in his loving eyes, as he turned
them to her.

' Why are you sad ? ' she asked, smiling, and

THE HEART OF ROME 373

laying her hand on his. * We can be happy in
the present. We love each other, and can meet
often. You have made a great discovery and are
much more famous than you were a few days ago.
A newspaper has told our story, it is true, but
there was not a word against either of us in it, for
I made them let me read it myself. And now
people will say that we are engaged to be married,
and that we got into a foolish scrape and were
nearly killed together, and that we are a very
romantic couple, like lovers in a book ! Every
girl 1 know wishes she were in my place, I am
sure, and half the men in Rome wish that they
could have saved some girl's life as you did mine.
What is there so very dreadful in all that ? What
is there to cry about — dear ? '

Half in banter, half in earnest, she spoke to
him as if he were a child compared with her, and
leaned affectionately towards him ; and the last
word, the word neither of them had spoken yet,
came so softly and sweetly to him on her breath,
that he caught his own, and turned a little pale ;
and the barriers broke all at once, and he kissed
her. Then he got hold upon himself again, and
gently pushed her a little further from him, while
he put his other hand to his throat and closed his
eyes.

* Forgive me,' he said, in a thick voice. ' I
could not help it.'

* What is there to forgive ? We are not be-
traying any one. You are not breaking a promise
to any other woman. What harm is there ?
You did not give your friend your word that you

374 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

would never love any one, did you ? How could
you ? How could you know ? '

' I could not know,' he answered in a low voice.
' But I should not have kissed you.'

He knew that she could not understand the
point of honour that was so clear to him.

' Let me think for you, sometimes,' she said.

Her voice was as low as his, but dreamily pas-
sionate, and the strange young magic vibrated in
it, which perfect innocence wields with a destroy-
ing strength not even guessed at by itself.

The door opened and the Princess entered the
room in a leisurely fashion, wreathed in smiles.
She had successfully done what it would be very
hard for Malipieri to undo. He rose.

' Have you told Sabina what I said ? ' she
enquired.

' Yes.'

She turned to the girl, who was leaning back
in the corner of the sofa.

' Of course you agree, my child ? ' she said,
with a question in her voice, though with no in-
tonation of doubt as to the answer.

' Certainly,' Sabina answered, with perfect self-
possession. 'I think it was by far the- most
sensible thing we could do. Signor Malipieri will
come to see us, as if he and I were really engaged.'

' Yes,' assented the Princess. ' You cannot
go on calling him Signor Malipieri when we are
together in the family, my dear. What is your
Christian name ? ' she asked, turning to him.

' Marino.'

' I did not know,' Sabina said, with truth, and

THE HEART OF ROME 375

looking at him, as if she had found something
new to like in him. ' Is he to call me Sabina,
mother ? '

' Naturally. Well, my dear Marino '

Malipieri started visibly. The Princess ex-
plained.

* I shall call you so, too. It looks better before
people, you know. You must leave a card for
the Ambassador, at the porter's, when you go down-
stairs. He is going to ask you to dinner, with a
lot of our relations, to announce the engagement.
I have arranged it all beautifully — he is so kind ! '

CHAPTER XXIV

MASIN was very much relieved when his master
came home, looking much calmer than when he
had gone out and evidently having all his senses
about him. Malipieri sent to ask at what time
the mails left Rome for Florence, and he sat down
to his table without remembering that he had
eaten nothing that day.

It was not easy to write out in a concise form
the story of all that has here been told in detail.
Besides, he had not the habit of writing to the
Signora Malipieri, except such brief acknowledg-
ments of her regular letters to him as were necessary
and kind. For years she had been to him little
more than a recollection of his youth, a figure that
had crossed his life like a shadow in a dream,
taking with it a promise which he had never found
it hard to keep. He remembered her as she had
been then, and it had not even occurred to him to
consider how she looked now. She sometimes
sent him photographs of the pretty little girl, and
Malipieri kept them, and occasionally looked at
them, because they reminded him of his friend, of
whom he had no portrait.

He found it very hard to tell this half-mythical
376

CHAP, xxiv THE HEART OF ROME 377

woman and wholly mythical wife of all that had
happened, while scrupulously avoiding the main
fact, which was that he and Sabina loved each
other. To have told that, too, would have seemed
like a reproach, or still worse, like a request to be
set at liberty.

He wrote carefully, reading over his sentences,
now and then correcting one, and even entertain-
ing a vague idea of copying the whole when he
had finished it. The important point was that she
should fully understand the necessity of announc-
ing his engagement to marry Donna Sabina Conti,
together with his firm intention of breaking it off
as soon as the story should be so far forgotten as
to make it safe to do so, having due regard for
Donna Sabina's reputation and good name.

He laid so much stress on these points, and
expressed so strongly his repentance for having
led the girl into a dangerous scrape, that many a
woman would have guessed at something more.
But of this he was quite unaware when he read the
letter over, believing that he could judge it with-
out prejudice, as if it had been written by some
one else. The explanation was thorough and
logical, but there was a little too much protest
in the expressions of regret. Besides, there were
several references to Sabina's unhappy position as
the daughter of an abominably worldly and heart-
less woman, who would lock her up in a convent
for life rather than have the least trouble about
her. He could not help showing his anxious
interest in her future, much more clearly than he
supposed.

378 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

The consequence was that when the Signora
Malipieri read the letter on the following morning,
she guessed the truth, as almost any woman would,
without being positively sure of it ; and she was
absent-minded with her pupils all that day, and
looked at her watch uneasily, and was very glad
when she was able to go home at last and think
matters over.

It was not easy to decide what to do. She
could not write to Malipieri and ask him directly
if he was in love with Sabina Conti and wished to
marry her. She answered him at once, however,
telling him that she fully understood his position,
and thanking him for having written to her before
she could have heard the story from any other
source.

He showed the letter to Sabina, and it pleased
her by its frank simplicity, and perfect readiness to
accept Malipieri's statement without question, and
without the smallest resentment. Somehow the
girl had felt that this shadowy woman, who stood
between her and Malipieri, would make some
claim upon him, and assert herself in some dis-
agreeable way, or criticise his action. It was
hateful to think she really had a right to call her-
self his wife, and was therefore legally privileged
to tell him unpleasant truths. Sabina always con-
nected that with matrimony, remembering how
her father and mother used to quarrel when he
was alive, and how her brother and sister-in-law
continued the tradition. If the Volterra couple
were always peaceful, that was because the Baroness
was in mortal awe of her fat husband, a state of

xxiv THE HEART OF ROME 379

life to which Sabina did not wish to be called. It
was true that Malipieri's position with regard to
his so-called wife, had nothing to do with a real
marriage, but Sabina had felt the disapproving
presence of the woman she had never seen, and
whom she imagined to be perpetually shaking a
warning finger at Malipieri and reminding him
sourly that he could not call his soul his own.
The letter had destroyed the impression.

Meanwhile Malipieri was appalled by the
publicity of a betrothal which was never to lead
to marriage. The Princess took care that as much
light as possible should be cast upon the whole
affair, and to the Baroness Volterra's stupefaction
and delight, told every one that the match had
been made under her auspices, and that the Conti
family owed her eternal gratitude for it and for
her care of Sabina during nearly three months.
The Princess told the story of the night in the
vaults again and again, to her friends and relations,
extolling everything that Malipieri had done, and
especially his romantic determination to show the
girl he was going to marry the treasures which
should have belonged to her, before any one else
should see them.

The Princess told Volterra, laughingly and
quite frankly, that her lawyer would do everything
possible to get for her a share in the value of the
statues discovered, and Volterra, following her
clever cue, laughed with her, and said it should be
a friendly suit, and that the lawyers should decide
among themselves how it should be settled, with-
out going into court. Volterra was probably the

380 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

only man in Rome who entertained a profound
respect for the Princess's intelligence ; yet he was
reckoned a good judge in such matters. He him-
self was far too wise to waste regrets upon the
failure of his tactics, and the stake had not been
large, after all, compared with his great fortune.
Magnanimity was a form of commodity which
could be exchanged for popularity, and popularity
was ready money. A thousand votes were as
good as two million francs, any day, when one was
not a senator for life, and wished to be re-elected ;
and a reputation for spotless integrity would cover
a multitude of financial sins. Since it had been
impossible to keep what did not belong to him,
the next best thing was to restore it to the accom-
paniment of a brass band and a chorus of pubHc
approval. The Princess, clever woman, knew
exactly how he felt and helped him to do the
inevitable in a showy way ; and it all helped her
to carry her daughter and herself out of a difficult
position in a blaze of triumph.

' My dear,' she said to the girl, ' you may do
anything you please, if you will only do it in
public. Lock your door to say your prayers, and
the world will shriek out that you have a scandal
to conceal.'

It dawned upon Sabina that her cynical, care-
less, spendthrift, scatter-brained mother had per-
haps after all a share of the cunning and the force
which rule the world to-day, and which were
so thoroughly combined in Volterra's character.
That would account for the way in which she
sailed through storms that would have wrecked

THE HEART OF ROME 381

the Baroness and drowned poor little Sabina
herself.

Meanwhile a hundred workmen had dug down
to the vault under the courtyard of the Palazzo
Conti, the statues had been lifted out intact, with
cranes, and had been set upon temporary pedestals,
under a spacious wooden shed ; and the world, the
flesh and the devil, including royalty, went to see
them and talked of nothing else. All Europe
heard the story of Malipieri's discovery, and of his
adventure with his betrothed wife, and praised him
and called him and her an ' ideal couple.'

Sabina's brother came up from the country to
be present at the Embassy dinner, and of course
stopped at the Grand Hotel, and made up his
mind to have an automobile at once. His wife
stayed in the country with the delicate little child,
but sent Sabina a note of congratulation.

Clementina, writing from her convent, said she
hoped that Sabina might redeem the follies of her
youth in a respectable married life, but the hope
was not expressed with much conviction. Sabina
need not disturb the peace of a religious house by
coming to see her.

The Princess boldly gave out that the marriage
would take place in the autumn, and confided to
two or three gossips that she really meant to have
a quiet wedding in the summer, because it would
be so much more economical, and the young
couple did not like the idea of waiting so long.
As for a dowry, everybody knew that Sassi, dear,
kind-hearted old man, had left Sabina what he had ;
and there were the statues.

382 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

Prince Conti came to the Embassy as soon
as he arrived, and met Malipieri, to whom he was
overpoweringly cordial in his weak way. On the
whole, at their first interview, he judged that it
would not be easy to borrow money of him, and
went away disappointed.

Society asked where Malipieri's father was,
and learned that he was nearly seventy and was
paralysed, and never left his house in Venice, but
that he highly approved of his son's marriage and
wished to see his future daughter-in-law as soon
as possible. The Princess said that Sabina and
Malipieri would live with him, but would come
to Rome for the winter.

Prince Rubomirsky, Sabina's uncle, sent her
a very handsome diamond necklace, which the
Princess showed to all her friends, and some of
them began to send wedding presents likewise,
because they had been privately informed that the
marriage was to take place very soon.

Sabina lived joyously in the moment, apparently
convinced that fate would bring everything right,
and doing her best to drive away the melancholy
that had settled upon Malipieri. Something would
happen, she said. It was impossible that heaven
could be so cruel as to part them and ruin both
their lives for the sake of a promise given to a
man dead long ago. Malipieri wished that he
could believe it.

He grew almost desperate as time went on and
he saw how the Princess was doing everything to
make the engagement irrevocable. He grew thin,
and nervous, and his eyes were restless. The

THE HEART OF ROME 383

deep tan of the African sun was disappearing, too,
and sometimes he looked almost ill. People said
he was too much in love, and laughed. Little by
little Sabina understood that she could not per-
suade him to trust to the future, and she grew
anxious about him. He wondered how she could
still deceive herself as to the inevitable end.

' We can go on being engaged as long as we
please,' she said, hopefully. ' There are plenty of
possible excuses.'

* You and I are not good at lying,' he answered,
with a weary smile. ' We told each other so, that
night.'

4 But it is perfectly true that I am almost too
young to be married,' said she ; ' and really, you
know, it might be more sensible to wait till I am
nineteen.'

* We should not think it sensible to wait a
week, if there were no hindrance. You know that.'

' Of course ! But when there is a hindrance,
as you call it, it is very sensible indeed to wait,'
retorted Sabina, with a truly feminine sense of the
value of logic. ' I shall think so, and I shall say
so, if I must. Then you will have to wait, too,
and what will it matter, so long as we can see each
other every day ? Have people never waited a
year to be married ? '

'You know that we may wait all our lives.'

* No. I will not do that,' Sabina said with
sudden energy. * If nothing happens, I will make
something happen. You know what I told you.
Have you forgotten ? And I am sure your father
will understand.'

384 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

' I doubt it,' Malipieri answered, smiling in
spite of himself.

To tell the truth, since her mother had cleared
away so many dangers, and showed no intention
of shutting her up in a convent, Sabina had begun
to see that it would be quite another matter to run
away and follow Malipieri to the ideal desert
island, especially after they had been openly en-
gaged to be married and the engagement had
been broken. The world would have to know
the story of his marriage then, and it would call
him dishonourable for having allowed himself to
be engaged to her when he was not free. It
would say that she had found out the truth, and that
he was a villain, or something unpleasant of that
sort. But she meant to keep up the illusion
bravely, as long as there was any life in it at all,
and then * something must happen.'

' It seems so strange that I should be braver
than you,' she said.

He did not wonder at that as much as she did.
Her reputation was saved now, but his honour was
in the balance, and at the mercy of a worldly and
unscrupulous woman. When he broke the en-
gagement, the Princess would tell the story of his
marriage and publish it on the housetops. He
told Sabina so.

' You are safe,' he added ; ' but when I lose
you, I shall lose my place among honourable men.'

' Then I shall tell the truth, and the whole
truth, to every one I know,' Sabina answered, in the
full conviction that truth, like faith, could perform
miracles, and that a grain of it could remove

xxiv THE HEART OF ROME 385

mountains of evil. * I shall tell the whole world ! '
she cried. * I do not care what my mother says.'

He was silent, for it was better, after all, that
she should believe in her happiness as long as
she could. She said nothing more for some time
and they sat quite still, thinking widely opposite
thoughts. At last she laid her hand on his ; the
loving little way had become familiar to her since
it had come instinctively the first time.

' Marino ! *

' Yes ? '

' You know that I love you ? '

* Indeed I know it.'

* And you love me ? Just as much ? In the
same way ? '

* Perhaps more. Who knows ? '

4 No, that is impossible,' she answered. ' Now
listen to me. It is out of the question that we
should ever be parted, loving each other as we do,
is it not ? '

The door opened and a servant entered, with a
card.

* The lady told me to inform your Excellency
that she is a connexion of Signor Malipieri,' said
the man. ' She hopes that she may be received,
as she is in Rome for only a few hours.'

Sabina looked at the card and handed it silently
to Malipieri, and her fingers trembled.

' Angelica Malipieri.'

That was the name and there was the address
in Florence, in Via del Mandorlo.

* Ask the lady to come here,' said Sabina,
quietly ; but her face was suddenly very white.

2 c

CHAPTER XXV

SABINA and Malipieri sat in silence during the
minutes that followed. From time to time, they
looked at each other. His self-possession and
courage had returned, now that something decisive
was to take place, but Sabina's heart was almost
standing still. She felt that the woman had come
to make a scene, to threaten a scandal and to utterly
destroy the illusion of happiness. If not, and if
she had merely had something of importance to
communicate, why had she not gone to Malipieri
first, or written to ask for this interview with
Sabina ? She had come suddenly, in order to take
advantage of the surprise her appearance must
cause. For once, Sabina wished that her mother
were with her, her high and mighty, insolent,
terrible mother, who was afraid of nobody in the
world.

The door opened, and the footman admitted a
quiet little woman, about thirty years old, already
inclined to be stout. She was very simply but very
well dressed, she had beautiful brown hair, and
when she came forward Sabina looked into a pair
of luminous and trustful hazel eyes.

386

CHAP, xxv THE HEART OF ROME 387

* Donna Sabina Conti ? ' asked the Signora
Malipieri in a gentle voice.

* Yes/ Sabina answered.

She and Malipieri had both risen. The Signora
made a timid movement with her hand, as if she
expected that Sabina would offer hers, which Sabina
did, rather late, when she saw that it was expected.
The lady glanced at Malipieri and then at Sabina
with a look of enquiry, as he held out his hand to
her and she took it. He saw that she did not
recognize him.

'I am Marino Malipieri,' he said.

' You ? ' she cried in surprise.

Then a faint flush rose in her smooth cheeks,
and Sabina, who was watching her, saw that her
lip trembled a little, and that tears rose in her eyes.

* Forgive me,' she said, in an unsteady voice.
' I should have known you, after all you have done
for me.'

* I think it is nearly thirteen years since we
met,' Malipieri answered. ' I had no beard then.'

She looked at him long, evidently in strong
emotion, but the tears did not overflow, and the
clear light came back gradually in her gaze. Then
the three sat down.

* I thought I had better come,' she said. * It
seemed easier than to write.'

' Yes,' Sabina answered, not knowing what
to say.

* You see,' said the Signora, * I could not easily
write to you frankly, as I had never seen you, and
I did not like to write to Signer Malipieri about
what I wanted to know.'

388 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

' Yes,' said Sabina, once more, but this time
she looked at Malipieri.

' What is it that you wish to know, Signora ? *
he asked kindly. ' Whether it is all exactly as my
letter told you ? Is that it ? '

She turned to him with a look of reproach.

' Does a woman doubt a man who has done
what you have done for me ? ' she asked. ' I
wanted to know something more — a little more
than what you wrote to me. It would make a
difference, perhaps.'

* To you, Signora ? ' asked Sabina quickly.

* No. To you. Perhaps it would make a
great difference in the way I should act.' She
paused an instant. ' It is rather hard to ask, I
know,' she added shyly.

She seemed to be a timid little woman.

' Please tell us what it is that you wish to know,
Signora,' said Malipieri, in the same kind tone,
trying to encourage her.

' I should like to ask — I hardly know just how
to say it — if you would tell me whether you are
fond of each other '

' What difference can that make to you,
Signora ? ' Malipieri asked with sudden hardness.
' You know that I shall not break my word/

She was hurt by the tone, and looked down
meekly, as if she had deserved the words.

' We love each other with all our hearts,' said
Sabina, before either of the others could say more.
' Nothing shall ever part us, in this world or the
next.'

There was a ring of clear defiance to fate in the

xxv THE HEART OF ROME 389

girl's voice, and Signora Malipieri turned to her
quickly, with a look of sympathy. She knew the
cry that comes from the heart.

' But you think that you can never be married,'
she said, almost to herself.

* How can we ? You know that we cannot ! '
It was Malipieri who answered.

Then the timid little woman raised her head
and looked him full in the face, and spoke without
any more hesitation.

* Do you think that I have never thought of
this possibility, during all these years ? * she asked.
' Do you really believe that I would let you suffer
for me, let your life be broken, let you give up
the best thing that any life holds, after you have
done for me what perhaps no man ever did for a
woman before ? *

' I know you are grateful,' Malipieri answered
very gently. ' Do not speak of what I have done.
It has not been at any sacrifice, till now.'

But Sabina leaned forward and grasped the
Signora Malipieri's hands. Her own were tremb-
ling.

* You have come to help us ! ' she cried.

' It is so easy, now that I know that you love
each other.'

* How ? ' asked Sabina, breathless. * By a
divorce ? '

* Yes.'

* I shall never ask for that,' Malipieri said,
shaking his head.

* You are the best and truest gentleman that
ever protected a woman in trouble, Signer Mali-

390 THE HEART OF ROME

pieri,' said the little woman quietly. ' I know
that you will never divorce me. I know you
would not even think of it.'

* Well, but then ' Malipieri stopped and

looked at her.

* I shall get a divorce from you,' she said, and
then she looked happily from one to the other.

Malipieri covered his eyes with his hand. He
had not even thought of such a solution, and the
thought came upon him in his despair like a flood
of dazzling light. Sabina was on her knees, and
had thrown her arms wildly round the Signora
Malipieri's neck, and was kissing her again and
again.

' But it is nothing,' protested the Signora, beam-
ing with delight. 'It is so simple, so easy, and I
know exactly what to do.'

* You ? ' cried Sabina between laughing and
crying.

4 Yes. I once gave lessons in the house of a
famous lawyer, and sometimes I was asked to stay
to luncheon, and I heard a great case discussed,
and I asked questions, until I thoroughly under-
stood it all. You see, it was what I always meant
to do. There is a little fiction about the way it
is managed, but it is perfectly legal. Though
Italians may naturalize themselves in a foreign
country, they can regain their own nationality by a
simple declaration. Now, Signor Malipieri and I
must be naturalized in Switzerland. I know a
place where it can be done easily. Then we can
be divorced by mutual consent at once. We come
back to Italy, declare our nationality wherever we

xxv THE HEART OF ROME 391

please, and we are free to be married to any one
else, under Italian law. The fiction is only that
by paying some money, it can all be done in three
months, instead of in three years.'
Malipieri had listened attentively.

* Are you positively sure of that ? ' he asked.

' I have the authority of one of the first lawyers
in Italy.'

* But the Church ? ' asked Sabina anxiously.
' I should not think it a marriage at all, if I were
not married in church.'

* I have asked a good priest about that,'
answered the Signora. * I go to confession to
him, and he is a good man, and wise too. He
told me that the Church could make no objection
at all, since there has really been no marriage at
all, and since Signer Malipieri will present himself
after being properly and legally married to you at
the municipality. He told me, on the contrary,
that it is my duty to do everything in my power
to help you.'

' God bless you ! ' Sabina cried. * You are the
best woman in the world ! '

Malipieri took the Signora's hand and pressed
it to his lips fervently, for he could not find any
words.

* I shall only ask one thing,' she said, speaking
timidly again.

* Ask all I have,' he answered, her hand still in
his.

* But you may not like it. I should like to
keep the name, if you do not mind very much, on
account of my little girl. She need never know.

392 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

I can leave her with a friend while we are in
Switzerland.'

' It is yours,' he said. ' Few of my own people
have borne it as worthily as you have, since I gave
it to you.'

Here, therefore, ends the story of Sabina Conti
and Marino Malipieri, whose marriage took place
quietly during the autumn, as the Princess had
confidently said that it should. It is a tale without
a ' purpose ' and without any particular * moral/
in the present appalling acceptation of those simple
words. If it has interested or pleased those who
have read it, the writer is glad ; if it has not,
he can find some consolation in having made
two young people unutterably blissful in his own
imagination, whereas he manifestly had it in his
power to bring them to awful grief; and when
one cannot make living men and women happy in
real life, it is a harmless satisfaction to do it in a
novel. If this one shows anything worth learning
about the world, it is that a gifted man of strong
character and honourable life may do a foolish and
generous thing whereby he may become in a few
days the helpless toy of fate. He who has never
repented of a good impulse which has brought
great trouble to other people, must be indeed a
selfish soul.

As for the strange circumstances I have de-
scribed, I do not think any of them impossible,
and many of them are founded upon well-known
facts. I have myself seen, within not many years,
a construction like the dry well in the Palazzo

xxv THE HEART OF ROME 393

Conti, which was discovered in the foundations of
a Roman palace, and had been used as an oubliette.
There were skeletons in it and fragments of
weapons of the sixteenth century and even of the
seventeenth. There was also a communication
between the cellars of the palace and the Tiber.

I read George Sand's fantastic novel Consuelo
many years ago, and I am aware that she intro-
duced a well, in an ancient castle, in which the
water could be made to rise and fall at will, in
order to establish or interrupt communication with
a secret chamber. I do not know whether she
imagined the construction or had seen a similar
one, for such wells are said to be found in more
than one old fortress in Europe. The * lost water '
really exists at many points under Rome, its rising
and falling is sometimes unaccountable, and I know
at least one old palace in which it has been used
and found pure, within the memory of man. So
far, the explanations suggested by engineers have
neither satisfied those who have propounded them,
nor those who have had practical experience of the
* lost water.' The subject is extremely interesting
but is one of very great difficulty, as it is generally
quite impossible to make explorations in the places
where the water is near the surface. The older
part of modern Rome was built hap-hazard, and
often upon the enormous substructures of ancient
buildings, of which the positions can be conjectured
only, and of which the plans and dimensions are
very vaguely guessed by archaeologists. All that
can be said with approximate certainty of the ' lost
water,' is that it must run through long-forgotten

394 THE HEART OF ROME CHAP.

conduits, that it rises here and there in wells, and
that it is mostly uncontaminated by the river.

Those familiar with the Vatican museum will
have at once recognised the colossal statue of gilt
bronze which now stands in the circular hall known
as the ' Rotonda.' It was accidentally found, when
I was a boy, in the courtyard of the Palazzo
Righetti in the Campo dei Fiori, carefully and
securely concealed by a well-built vault, evidently
constructed for the purpose, in the foundations of
the Theatre of Pompey. I went to see it, when
only a portion of the vault had been removed, and
I shall never forget the vivid impression it made
upon me. So far as I know, there has not been
any explanation of its having been hidden there,
but among the lower classes in Rome there are
traditions of great treasure supposed to be buried
in other parts of the city. I have taken the
liberty of making the discovery over again at a
point some distance from the Palazzo Righetti,
and in the present time. The statue was really
found in 1864, and the gem in the ring was
stolen. The marble Venus which Malipieri saw
with it is imaginary, but I was also taken to see
the beautiful statue of Augustus, now in the
Braccio Nuovo of the Vatican, on the spot where
it came to light in the Villa of Livia, in 1863.

The great mediaeval family of Conti became
extinct long ago. The palace to which I have
given their name would stand on the site of one
now the property of the Vatican, but would be of a
somewhat different construction.

Finally, I wish to protest that there are no

xxv THE HEART OF ROME 395

so-called ' portraits ' in this story of the heart
of old Rome. Many Romans were ruined by
the financial crisis of 1888 and its consequences,
either at the time or later. The family to
which Sabina belonged is wholly imaginary, and
its fall was due to other causes. I trust that
no ingenious reader will try to trace a parallel
where none exists. I would not even have a
certain young and famous architect and engineer,
for whom I entertain the highest admiration and
esteem, recognise a * portrait ' of himself in Marino
Malipieri, if those pages should ever come to his
notice, and I have purposely made my imaginary
hero as unlike him as possible, in appearance,
manner and speech.

Those who have noticed the increasing tendency
of modern readers to bring accusations of plagiarism
against novels that deal partly with facts will
understand why I have said this much about my
own work. To others, the few details I have
given may be of some interest.

THE END

Vrtnttdby R. & R. CLA«, LIMITED, Efutkttrfk.

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THE LARGE TYPE
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WAVERLEY NOVELS

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INTRODUCTORY ESSAYS AND NOTES

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Collected Edition

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PAUL PATOFF.

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writing, and thoughts that are alike original and suggestive."

GREIFENSTEIN.

SPECTATOR. — " Altogether, we like Greifenstein decidedly— so much so as to
doubt whether it does not dislodge A Roman Singer from the place hitherto occupied by
the latter as our favourite amongst Mr. Crawford's novels."

TAQUISARA: A Novel.

PALL MALL GAZETTE.—" Cannot fail to be read with interest and pleasure by
all to whom clever characterisation and delicate drawing make appeal."

A ROSE OF YESTERDAY.

SPEAKER.— "There is something in A Rose of Yesterday which makes the book
linger with a distinct aroma of its own in the reader's memory."

SANT' ILARIO.

A THENjEUM.—"Tbx. plot is skilfully concocted, and the interest is sustained to
the end. . . . A very clever piece of work.1*

A CIGARETTE-MAKER'S ROMANCE.

GLOBE. — "We are inclined to think this is the best of Mr. Marion Crawford's

KHALED : A Tale of Arabia.

ANTI-JACOBIN. — "Mr. Crawford has written some stories more powerful, but
none more attractive than this."

THE THREE FATES.

NATIONAL OBSER VER.—" Increases in strength and in interest even to the
end."

Three-and-Sixpenny Library 15

THE NOVELS OF

F. MARION CRAWFORD

THE WITCH OF PRAGUE.

ACADEMY.—" Is so remarkable a book as to be certain of as wide a popularity as
any of its predecessors ; it is a romanre of singular daring and power."

MARION DARCHE: A Story without Comment.
A THENsEUM. — " Readers in search of a good novel may be recommended to lose
no time in making the acquaintance of Marion Darcbe, her devoted friends, and her one
enemy."

KATHARINE LAUDERDALE.

PUNCH. — " Admirable in its simple pathos, its unforced humour, and, above all, in
ts truth to human nature."

THE CHILDREN OF THE KING.

DAILY CHRONICLE.— "Mr. Crawford has not done better than The Childrtn.
01 the King for a long time. The story itself is a simple and beautiful one."

PIETRO GHISLERI.

SPEAKER. — " Mr. Marion Crawford is an artist, and a great one, and he has been
brilliantly successful in a task in which ninety-nine out of every hundred writers would
have failed."

DON ORSINO.

ATHEN&UM.— "Don Ortitio is a story with many strong points, and it is told
with all the spirit we have been wont to expect from its author."

CASA BRACCIO.
GUARDIAN. — "A very powerful story and a finished work of art."

ADAM JOHNSTONE'S SON.

DAILY NEWS. — "Mr. Crawford has written stories richer in incident and more
powerful in intention, but we do not think that he has handled more deftly or shown a
more delicate insight into tendencies that go towards making some of the more spiritual
tragedies of life."

THE RALSTONS.

A TH^ENAZ UM. — " The present instalment of what promises to be a very voluminous
amily history, increasing in interest and power as it develops, turns upon the death of
Robert and the disposition of his millions, which afford ample scope for the author's
pleasantly ingenious talent in raising and surmounting difficulties of details."

CORLEoVlE: A Tale of Sicily.
PALL MALL GAZETTE.—" A splendid romance.'

VIA CRUCIS: A Romance of the Second Crusade.

GRAPHIC.— " A stirring story.'

IN THE PALACE OF THE KING: A Love Story of Old Madrid.
SPECTA TOR.—" A truly thrilling tale."

CECILIA: A Story of Modern Rome.

T/.WES. — "Thoroughly interesting from beginning to end. . . . Fully worthy of his
reputation."

ILLUSTRATED LONDON NEWS.— "Can only enhance Mr. Crawford's
reputation. . . . Admirably treated with all the subtlety, finesse, and delicacy which are
characteristic of the author at his best."

MARIETTA: A Maid of Venice.

PUNCH. — " Marion Crawford is at hi* very best in Marietta, A Maid of t't*Ut.
It is a powerfully dramatic story of Venice under 'The Ten,' told in a seric* of picturesque
scenes described in strikingly artistic word-painting, the action being carried on by well-
imagined clearly-defined characters."

16 Macmillan and Co.'s

THE NOVELS OF

ROLF BOLDREWOOD

BOBBERY UNDER ARMS.
A STORY OF LIFE AND ADVENTURE IN THE BUSH AND IN THE

GOLD-FIELDS OF AUSTRALIA.

GUARDIAN. — "A singularly spirited and stirring tale of Australian life, chiefly
in the remoter settlements."

A MODERN BUCCANEER.

DAILY CHRONICLE.— " We do not forget Robbery under Armt, or any of its
various successors, when we say that Rolf Boldrewood has never done anything so good as
A Modern Buccaneer. It is good, too, in a manner which is for the author a new one."

THE MINER'S RIGHT.

A TALE OF THE AUSTRALIAN GOLD-FIELDS.

WORLD. — " Full of good passages, passages abounding in vivacity, in the colour
and play of life. . . . The pith of the book lies in its singularly fresh and vivid pictures
of the humours of the gold-fields — tragic humours enough they are, too, here and again."

THE SQUATTER'S DREAM.

FIELD. — " The details are filled in by a hand evidently well conversant with his
subject, and everything is ben trovato, if not actually true. A perusal of these cheerfully-
written pages will probably give a better idea of realities of Australian life than could be
obtained from many more pretentious works."

A SYDNEY-SIDE SAXON.

GLASGOW ff£KAL£).—"T:he interest never flags, and altogether A Sydney-Side
Saxon is a really refreshing book."

A COLONIAL REFORMER.

A THEN/EUM. — " A series of natural and entertaining pictures of Australian life,
which are, above all things, readable."

NEVERMORE.

OBSERVER. — "An exciting story of Ballarat in the 'fifties. Its hero, Lance
Trevanion, is a character which for force of delineation has no equal in Rolf Boldrewood s
previous novels. "

PLAIN LIVING. A Bush Idyll.

ACADEMY. — " A hearty story, deriving charm from the odours of the bush and the
bleating of incalculable sheep.'

MY RUN HOME.

A THEN/EUM. — " Rolf Boldrewood's la-it story is a racy volume. It has many of
the best qualities of Whyte Melville, the breezy freshness and vigour of Frank Smedley,
with the dash and something of the abandon of Lever.«. . . His last volume is one of his
best."

THE SEALSKIN CLOAK.

TIMES. — "A well-written story."

THE CROOKED STICK; or, Pollie's Probation.
ACADEMY. — " A charming picture of Australian station life."

OLD MELBOURNE MEMORIES.

NATIONAL OBSER VER.—"Wi=. book deserves to be read in England with a*
much appreciation as it has already gained in the country of its birth."

A ROMANCE OF CANVAS TOWN, and other Stories.
ATffEff/4£L?Af.—'lTbe book is interesting for its obvious insight into life in the
Australian bush."

WAR TO THE KNIFE; or, Tan^ata Maori.
ACADEMY. -"A stirring romance."

BABES IN THE BUSH.
OUTLOOK. — "A lively and picturesque story."
DAILY TELEGRAPH.—" Bristles with thrilling incident."

IN BAD COMPANY, and other Stories.
DAIL Y NEWS.—" The best work this popular author has done for some time. "

Three-and-Sixpenny Library 17

By H. G. WELLS

THE PLATTNER STORY: and others

TALES OF SPACE AND "1IME.

THE STOLEN BACILLUS: and other Incidents.

THE INVISIBLE MAN.. A Grotesque Romance.
Eighth Edition.

LOVE AND MR. LEWISHAM. A Story of a very
Young Couple.

WHEN THE SLEEPER WAKES.
THE FIRST MEN IN THE MOON.
TWELVE STORIES AND A DREAM.

By A. E. W. MASON
THE COURTSHIP OF MORRICE BUCKLER.
THE PHILANDERERS.
MIRANDA OF THE BALCONY.

By EGERTON CASTLE

THE BATH COMEDY.

THE PRIDE OF JENNICO. Being a Memoir of
Captain Basil Jennico.

THE LIGHT OF SCARTHEY. A Romance.
"LA BELLA," AND OTHERS.
"YOUNG APRIL."

By MAARTEN MAARTENS

AN OLD MAID'S LOVE. A Dutch Tale told in
English.

THE GREATER GLORY. A Story of High Life.

MY LADY NOBODY. A Novel.

GOD'S FOOL. A Koopstad Story.

THE SIN OF JOOST AVELINGH. A Dutch Story.

HER MEMORY.

i8 Macmillan and Co.'s

THE NOVELS OF

ROSA N. CAREY

Over Half-a-Million of these works have been printed.

47th Thousand.
NELLIE'S MEMORIES.

STANDARD. — " Miss Carey has the gift of writing naturally and simply, her pathos-
Is true and unforced, and her conversations are sprightly and sharp."

33rd Thousand.
WEE WIFIE.

LADY — " Miss Carey's novels are always welcome ; they are out of the common run,,
immaculately pure, and very high in tone."

29th Thousand.

BARBARA HEATHCOTE'S TRIAL.
DAIL Y TELEGRAPH.— " A novel ot a sort which it would be a real loss to miss."

25th Thousand.
ROBERT ORD'S ATONEMENT.

STANDARD.—" Robert Ortts Atonement is a delightful book, very quiet as to its
story, but very strong in character, and instinct with that delicate pathos which is the
salient point of all the writings of this author."

32nd Thousand.

WOOED AND MARRIED.

STANDARD. — "There is plenty of romance in the heroine's life. But it would not
be fair to tell our readers wherein that romance consists or how it ends. Let them read
the book for themselves. We will undertake to promise that they will like it."

24th Thousand.
HERIOT'S CHOICE.

MORNING POST.— "Deserves to be extensively known and read. . . . Will doubt-
less find as many admirers as readers."

2gth Thousand.
QUEENIE'S WHIM.

GUARDIAN. — " A thoroughlj good ar.d wholesome story."

35th Thousand.

NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS.

PALL MALL GAZETTE.— " Like all the other stories we have had from the
same gifted pen, this volume, Not Like Other Girls, takes a sane and healthy view of"
life and its concerns. ... It is an excellent story to put in the hands of girls."

NEW YORK HOME JOURNAL.— " One of the sweetest, daintiest, and most
interesting of the season's publications."

24th Thousand.
MARY ST. JOHN.

JOHN BULL. — "The story isa simple one, but told with much grace and unaffected
pathos."

23rd Thousand.
FOR LILIAS.

VANITY FAIR. — "A simple, earnest, and withal very interesting story; weli
conceived, carefully worked out, and sympathetically told."

28th Thousand.
UNCLE MAX.

LADY.— " So intrinsically good that the world of novel-readers ought to be genuinely
grateful."

2 1st Thousand.

RUE WITH A DIFFERENCE.
BOOKMAN. — " Fresh and charming. . . . A piece of distinctly good work.

Three-and-Sixpenny Library 19

THE NOVELS OF

ROSA N. CAREY

Over Half-a-Million of these works have been printed.

34th Thousand.

ONLY THE GOVERNESS.

PALL MALL GAZETTE.— "This novel is for those who like stories with some-
thing of Jane Austen's power, but with more .intensity of feeling than Jane Austen dis-
played, who are not inclined to call pathos twaddle, and who care to see life and human
nature in their most beautiful form."

24th Thousand.
LOVER OR FRIEND?

GUARDIAN.— "The refinement of style and delicacy of thought will make Lovtr
or Fritndl popular with all readers who are not too deeply bitten with a desire for
things improbable in their lighter literature."

2 ist Thousand.
BASIL LYNDHURST.

PALL MALL GAZETTE.—" We doubt whether anything has been written of late
years so fresh, so pretty, so thoroughly natural and bright. The novel as a whole is charming."

22nd Thousand.

SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS.

OBSERVER.— " A capital story. The interest steadily grows, and by the time or.e
reaches the third volume the story has become enthralling.

24th Thousand.

THE OLD, OLD STORY.

DAILY NEWS.— "Miss Carey's fluent pen has not lost its power of writing fresh
and wholesome fiction."

24th Thousand.

THE MISTRESS OF BRAE FARM.

PALL MALL GAZETTE. — "Miss Carey's untiring pen loses none of its power,
and her latest work is as gracefully written, as full of quiet home charm, as fresh ana
wholesome, so to speak, as its many predecessors."

1 2th Thousand.

MRS. ROMNEY and "BUT MEN MUST WORK."
PALL MALL GAZETTE.—" By no means the least attractive of the works of this
charming writer."

New Impression.

OTHER PEOPLE'S LIVES.

BRA DFORD OBSER VER.—U There is a quiet charm about this story which finds
its way into the innermost shrines of life. The book is wholesome and good, and cannot
fail to give pleasure to those who love beauty."

25th Thousand.
HERB OF GRACE.

WESTMINSTER GAZETTE.—" A clever delineator of character, possessed of a
reserve of strength in a quiet, easy, flowing style, Miss Carey never fails to please a large
class of readers. Htrb of Gract is no exception to the rule. ..."

20th Thousand.

THE HIGHWAY OF FATE.

BOOKMAN.— "This pretty love story . . . . i» charming, sparkling, and never
mawkish."

1 9th Thousand.

A PASSAGE PERILOUS.

TIMES.—" Told with all Miss Carey's u<ual charm of quiet, well-bred sent mem."
OUTLOO_K.— " A pretty story of English country-house life during the terribljr
anxious ' waiting days ' of Lady smith. The soldier's young bride is charmingly suggested
and the love portions approach the idyllic."

2o Macmillan and Co.'s

THE NOVELS AND TALES OF

CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

THE HEIR OF REDCLYFFE. With Illustrations by KATE
GREENAWAY.

HEARTSEASE ; or, the Brother's Wife. New Edition. With
Illustrations by KATE GREENAWAY.

HOPES AND FEARS ; or, Scenes from the Life of a Spinster.
With Illustrations by HERBERT GANDY.

DYNEVOR TERRACE ; or, the Clue of Life. With Illustrations
by ADRIAN STOKES.

THE DAISY CHAIN ; or, Aspirations. A Family Chronicle
With Illustrations by J. P. ATKINSON.

THE TRIAL : More Links of the Daisy Chain. With Illustra-
tions by J. P. ATKINSON.

THE PILLARS OF THE HOUSE; or, Under Wode, under
Rode. Two Vols. With Illustrations by HERBERT GANDY.

THE YOUNG STEPMOTHER ; or, a Chronicle of Mistakes.
With Illustrations by MARIAN HUXLEY.

THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY. With Illustra-
tions by ADRIAN STOKES.

THE THREE BRIDES. With Illustrations by ADRIAN STOKES.

MY YOUNG ALCIDES : A Faded Photograph. With Illustra-
tions by ADRIAN STOKES.

THE CAGED LION. With Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.

THE DOVE IN THE EAGLE'S NEST. With Illustrations
by W. J. HENNESSY.

THE CHAPLET OF PEARLS; or, the White and Black
Ribaumont With Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.

LADY HESTER ; or, Ursula's Narrative ; and THE DANVERS
PAPERS. With Illustrations by JANE E. COOK.

MAGNUM BONUM ; or, Mother Carey's Brood. With Illustra-
tions by W. J. HENNESSY.

LOVE AND LIFE: an Old Story in Eighteenth Century Costume.
With Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.

UNKNOWN TO HISTORY. A Story of the Captivity of Mary
of Scotland. With Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.

STRAY PEARLS. Memoirs of Margaret de Ribaumont, Vis-
countess of Bellaise. With Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.

Three-and-Sixpenny Library 21

THE NOVELS AND TALES OF

CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

THE ARMOURER'S 'PRENTICES. With Illustrations by

W. J. IlENNESSY.

THE TWO SIDES OF THE SHIELD. With Illustrations by

W. J. HENNESSY.

NUTTIE'S FATHER. With Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.
SCENES AND CHARACTERS ; or, Eighteen Months at

Beechcroft. With Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.
CHANTRY HOUSE. With Illustrations by W. J. HENNESSY.

A MODERN TELEMACHUS. With Illustrations by W.
HENNESSY.

BYWORDS. A collection of Tales new and old.
BEECHCROFT AT ROCKSTONE.
MORE BYWORDS.

A REPUTED CHANGELING; or, Three Seventh Years Two
Centuries Ago.

THE LITTLE DUKE, RICHARD THE FEARLESS. With

Illustrations.

THE LANCES OF LYNWOOD. With Illustrations by J. B.
THE PRINCE AND THE PAGE : A Story of the Last Crusade.

With Illustrations by ADRIAN STOKES.
TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES. With Illustrations by

W. J. HENNRSSY.

THAT STICK.

AN OLD WOMAN'S OUTLOOK IN A HAMPSHIRE
VILLAGE.

GRISLY GRISELL ; or, The Laidly Lady of Whitburn. A Tale

of the Wars of the Roses.
HENRIETTA'S WISH. Second Edition.
THE LONG VACATION.

THE RELEASE ; or, Caroline's French Kindred.
THE PILGRIMAGE OF THE BEN BERIAH.

THE TWO GUARDIANS; or, Home in this World. Secona
Edition.

COUNTESS KATE AND THE STOKESLEY SECRET.
MODERN BROODS ; or, Developments Unlocked for.
STROLLING PLAYERS : A Harmony of Contrasts. By C. M.
YONGE and C. R. COLKRIFX-F

22 Macmillan and Co.'s

Works by Mrs. Craik

Olive : A Novel. With Illustrations by G. BOWERS.
The Ogilvies : A Novel. With Illustrations.

Agatha's Husband : A Novel. With Illustrations by
WALTER CRANE.

The Head of the Family : A Novel. With Illustrations

by WALTER CRANE.
Two Marriages.
The Laurel Bush.

My Mother and I: a Girl's Love Story. With Illustrations.
Miss Tommy : a Mediaeval Romance.
King Arthur: Not a Love Story.
About Money, and other Things.
Concerning Men, and other Papers.

Works by Mrs. Oliphant

Neighbours on the Green.

Joyce.

Kirsteen : the Story of a Scotch Family Seventy Years Ago.

A Beleaguered City : A Story of the Seen and the Unseen.

Hester : a Story of Contemporary Life.

He that Will Not when He May.

The Railway Man and his Children.

The Marriage of Elinor.

Sir Tom.

The Heir-Presmptive and the Heir-Apparent.

A Country Gentleman and his Family.

A Son of the Soil.

The Second Son.

The Wizard's Son : A Novel.

The Curate in Charge.

Lady William. Young Musgrave.

Three-and-Sixpenny Library 23

The Works of Dean Farrar

SEEKERS AFTER GOD. The Lives of Seneca, Epictetus, and

Marcus Aurelius.

ETERNAL HOPE. Sermons preached in Westminster Abbey.
THE FALL OF MAN : and other Sermons.
THE WITNESS OF HISTORY TO CHRIST.
THE SILENCE AND VOICES OF GOD, with other Sermons.
"kIN THE DAYS OF THY YOUTH." Sermons on Practical

Subjects.

SAINTLY WORKERS. Five Lenten Lectures.
EPHPHATHA; or, the Amelioration of the World.
MERCY- AND JUDGMENT: a few last words on Christian

Eschatology.
SERMONS & ADDRESSES DELIVERED IN AMERICA.

THE WORKS OF

Frederick Denison Maurice

SERMONS PREACHED IN LINCOLN'S INN CHAPEL.

In six vols.

SERMONS PREACHED IN COUNTRY CHURCHES.
CHRISTMAS DAY: and other Sermons.
THEOLOGICAL ESSAYS.
THE PROPHETS AND KINGS OF THE OLD TESTAMENT.

THE PATRIARCHS AND LAWGIVERS OF THE OLD

TESTAMl

THE GOSPEL OF THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN.
THE GOSPEL OF ST. JOHN.
THE EPISTLES OF ST. JOHN.

THE FRIENDSHIP OF BOOKS: and other Lectures.
THE PRAYER BOOK AND LORD'S PRAYER.
THE DOCTRINE OF SACRIFICE. Deduced from the
Scriptures.

THE ACTS OF THE APOSTLES.

THE KINGDOM OF CHRIST; or, Hints to a Quaker re-
specting the Principles, Constitution, and Ordinances of the
Catholic Church. 2 vols.

24 Macmillan and Co.'s

THE WORKS OF

CHARLES KINGSLEY

WESTWARD HO !

HYPATIA ; or, New Foes with an old Face.

TWO YEARS AGO.

ALTON LOCKE, Tailor and Poet. An Autobiography.

HEREWARD THE WAKE, " Last of the English."

YEAST : A Problem.

POEMS : including The Saint's Tragedy, Andromeda, Songs

Ballads, etc.
THE WATER-BABIES : A Fairy Tale for a Land-Baby. With

Illustrations by LINLEY SAMBOURNE.
THE HEROES ; or, Greek Fairy Tales for my Children. With

Illustrations by the Author.

GLAUCUS ; or, The Wonders of the Shore. With Illustrations.
MADAME HOW AND LADY WHY ; or, First Lessons in

Earth Lore for Children. With Illustrations.

AT LAST. A Christmas in the West Indies. With Illustrations.
THE HERMITS.

HISTORICAL LECTURES AND ESSAYS.
PLAYS AND PURITANS, and other Historical Essays.
THE ROMAN AND THE TEUTON.
PROSE IDYLLS, New and Old.
SCIENTIFIC LECTURES AND ESSAYS.
SANITARY AND SOCIAL LECTURES AND ESSAYS.
LITERARY AND GENERAL LECTURES AND ESSAYS.
ALL SAINTS' DAY : and other Sermons.
DISCIPLINE : .and other Sermons.
THE GOOD NEWS OF GOD. Sermons.
GOSPEL OF THE PENTATEUCH.
SERMONS FOR THE TIMES.
SERMONS ON NATIONAL SUBJECTS.
VILLAGE SERMONS, AND TOWN AND COUNTRY

SERMONS.

THE WATER OF LIFE : and other Sermons.
WESTMINSTER SERMONS.

Three-and-Sixpenny Library 25

ENGLISH
MEN OF LETTERS

EDITED BY JOHN MORLEY.
Arranged in 13 Volumes, each containing the Lives of three Author*.

I. Chaucer. By Dr. A. W. WARD. Spenser. By Dean
CHURCH. Dry den. By Prof. SAINTSBURY.

II. Milton. By MARK PATTISON. Goldsmith. By W.
BLACK. Cowper. By GOLDWIN SMITH.

III. Byron. By Professor NICHOL. Shelley. By J. A.

SYMONDS. Keats. By SIDNEY COLVIN.

IV. Wordsworth. By F. W. H. MYERS. Southey. By

Prof. DOWDEN. Landor. By SIDNEY COLVIN.

V. Charles Lamb. By Canon AINGER. Addison. By
W. J. COURTHOPE. Swift. By Sir LESLIE STEPHEN,
K.C.R

VI. Scott. By R. H. HUTTON. Burns. By Principal
SHAIRP. Coleridge. By H. D. TRAILL.

VII. Hume. By Prof. HUXLEY, F.R.S. Locke. By THOS.
FOWLER. Burke. By JOHN MORLEY.

VIII. Defoe. By W. MINTO. Sterne. By H. D. TRAILL.
Hawthorne. By HENRY JAMES.

IX. Fielding. By AUSTIN DOBSON. Thackeray. By
ANTHONY TROLLOPE. Dickens. By Dr. A. W.
WARD.

X. Gibbon. By J. C. MORISON. Carlyle. By Professor
NICHOL. Macaulay. By J. C. MORISON.

XL Sydney. By J. A. SYMONDS. De Quincey. By
Prof. MASSON. Sheridan. By Mrs. OLIPHANT.

XII. Pope. By Sir LESLIE STEPHEN, K.C.B. Johnson.
By Sir LESLIE STEPHEN, K.C.B. Gray. By EDMUND
GOSSE.

XIII. Bacon. By Dean CHURCH. Bunyan. By J. A.
FROUDE. Bentley. By Sir RICHARD JEBB.

26 Macmillan and Co.'s

By GERTRUDE ATHERTON

THE CONQUEROR.

PATIENCE SPARHAWK AND HER TIMES.
AMERICAN WIVES & ENGLISH HUSBANDS.
A DAUGHTER OF THE VINE.

By J. H. SHORTHOUSE

JOHN INGLESANT: A Romance.

SIR PERCIVAL: a Story of the Past and of the Present.

THE LITTLE SCHOOLMASTER MARK.

THE COUNTESS EVE.

A TEACHER OF THE VIOLIN.

BLANCHE, LADY FALAISE.

By HUGH CONWAY

A FAMILY AFFAIR. | LIVING OR DEAD.

By W. CLARK RUSSELL
MAROONED. | A STRANGE ELOPEMENT

By Mrs. PARR

DOROTHY FOX.
ADAM AND EVE.

LOYALTY GEORGE.
ROBIN.

By ANNIE KEARY

A YORK AND A LANCASTER ROSE.
CASTLE DALY: the Story of an Irish Home thirty
years ago.

JANET'S HOME. | OLDBURY.

A DOUBTING HEART.

THE NATIONS AROUND ISRAEL.

By E. WERNER

SUCCESS, AND HOW HE WON IT.
FICKLE FORTUNE.

Three-and-Sixpenny Library 27

By W. WARDE FOWLER

A YEAR WITH THE BIRDS. Illustrated.
TALES OF THE BIRDS. Illustrated.
MORE TALES OF THE BIRDS. Illustrated.
SUMMER STUDIES OF BIRDS AND BOOKS.

By FRANK BUCKLAND

CURIOSITIES OF NATURAL HISTORY. Illus-
trated. In four volumes :

FIRST SERIES— Rats, Serpents, Fishes, Frogs, Monkeys, etc.

SECOND SERIES— Fossils, Bears, Wolves, Cats, Eagles, Hedge-
hogs, Eels, Herrings, Whales.

THIRD SERIES— Wild Ducks, Fishing, Lions, Tigers, Foxes,
Porpoises.

FOURTH SERIES— Giants, Mummies, Mermaids, Wonderful
People, Salmon, etc.

By ARCHIBALD FORBES

BARRACKS, BIVOUACS, AND BATTLES.
SOUVENIRS OF SOME CONTINENTS.

By THOMAS HUGHES

TOM BROWN'S SCHOOLDAYS.

TOM BROWN AT OXFORD.

THE SCOURING OF THE WHITE HORSE.

ALFRED THE GREAT.

By MONTAGU WILLIAMS

LEAVES OF A LIFE, j LATER LEAVES.
ROUND LONDON.

By W. E. NORRIS
THIRLBY HALL.
A BACHELOR'S BLUNDER.

The Works of SHAKESPEARE

VICTORIA EDITION. In Three Volumes.

Vol. I. COMEDIES. Vol. II. HISTORIES. VoL III. TRAGEDIES.

28 Three-and-Sixpenny Library

Works by Various Authors

Hogan, M.P.

Flitters, Tatters, and the Counsellor

The New Antigone | Memories of Father Healy

CANON ATKINSON. —The Last of the Giant Killers

Walks, Talks, Travels, and Exploits of Two Schoolboys

Playhours and Half-Holidays; or, further Experience*

of Two Schoolboys

SIR S. BAKER. —True Tales for my Grandsons
R. H. BARHAM.— The Ingoldsby Legends
RKV. R. H. D. BARHAM.— Life of R. H. Barham

Life of Theodore Hook [land

BLENNERHASSET AND SLEEMAN.— Adventures in Mashona-

SIR H. LYTTON BULWER.— Historical Characters

SIR H. M. DURAND.— Helen Treveryan

LANOE FALCONER.— Cecilia de Noel

W. FORBES-MITCHELL.— Reminiscences of the Great Mutiny

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