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The Eternal City, a novel by Hall Caine |
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Part 7. The Pope - Chapter 19 |
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_ PART SEVEN. THE POPE CHAPTER XIX Early in the morning of Holy Saturday, Roma was summoned as a witness before the Penal Tribunal of Rome. The citation, which was signed by a magistrate, required that she should present herself at the Procura at ten o'clock the same day, "to depose about facts on which she would then be interrogated," and she was warned that if she did not appear, "she would incur the punishment sanctioned by Article 176 of the Code of Penal Procedure." Roma found Father Pifferi waiting for her at the door of the Procura. The old Capuchin looked anxious. He glanced at her pale face and quivering lips and inquired if she had slept. She answered that she was well, and they turned to go upstairs. On the landing of the first floor Commendatore Angelelli, who was wearing a flower in his button-hole, approached them with smiles and quick bows to lead them to the office of the magistrate. "Only a form," said the Questore. "It will be nothing--nothing at all." Commendatore Angelelli led the way into a silent room furnished in red, with carpet, couch, armchairs, table, a stove, and two large portraits of the King and Queen. "Sit down, please. Make yourselves comfortable," said the Chief of Police, and he passed into an adjoining room. A moment afterwards he returned with two other men. One of them was an elderly gentleman, who wore with his frockcoat a close-fitting velvet cap decorated with two bands of gold lace. This was the Procurator General, and the other, a younger man, carrying a portfolio, was his private secretary. A marshal of Carabineers came to the door for a moment. "Don't be afraid, my child. No harm shall come to you," whispered Father Pifferi. But the good Capuchin himself was trembling visibly. The Procurator General was gentle and polite, but he dismissed the Chief of Police, and would have dismissed the Capuchin also, but for vehement protests. "Very well, I see no objection; sit down again," he said. It was a strange three-cornered interview. Father Pifferi, quaking with fear, thought he was there to protect Roma. The Procurator General, smiling and serene, thought she had come to complete a secret scheme of personal revenge. And Roma herself, sitting erect in her chair, in her black Eton coat and straw hat, and with her wonderful eyes turning slowly from face to face, thought only of Rossi, and was silent and calm. The secretary opened his portfolio on the table and prepared to write. The Procurator General sat in front of Roma and leaned slightly forward. "You are Donna Roma Volonna, daughter of the late Prince Prospero Volonna?" "I am." "You were born in England and lived there as a child?" "Yes." "Although you were young when you lost your father, you have a perfect recollection both of him and of his associates?" "Of some of his associates." "One of them was a young man who lived in his house as a kind of adopted son?" "Yes." "You are aware that your father was unhappily involved in political troubles?" "I am." "You know that he was arrested on a serious charge?" "I do." "You also know that, when condemned to death by a military tribunal for conspiring against the person of the late sovereign, his sentence was commuted by the King, but that one of his associates, condemned at the same time, and for the same crime, escaped all punishment because he was not then at the disposition of the law?" "Yes." "That was the young man who lived with him as his adopted son?" "It was." There was a moment's pause during which nothing could be heard but the quick breathing of the Capuchin and the scratching of the secretary's pen. "During the past few months you have made the acquaintance in Rome of the Deputy David Rossi?" "I have." The Capuchin moved in his seat. "Acquaintance! The lady is married to the Deputy." The Procurator General's eyes rose perceptibly. "Married!" "That is to say religiously married, which is all the Church thinks necessary." "Ah, I see," said the Procurator General, suppressing a smile. "Still I must ask the lady to make her statement in her natal name." "Go on, sir," said the Capuchin. "Your intimacy with the Honourable Rossi has no doubt led him to speak freely on many subjects?" "It has." "He has perhaps told you that Rossi was not his father's name." "Yes." "That it was his mother's name, and though strictly his legal name also, he has borne it only since his return to Rome?" "That is so." It was the Capuchin's turn to look surprised. His sandalled feet shuffled on the carpet, and he prepared to take snuff. "The Honourable Rossi has been some weeks abroad, and during his absence you have no doubt received letters from him?" "I have." "Can you tell me if in any of these letters he has said anything of a certain revolutionary propaganda?" The Capuchin, with his finger and thumb half raised, stopped and said, "I forbid the question, sir." "Father General!" "I mean that I counsel the lady not to answer it." The Procurator General suppressed another smile, directed this time at Roma, and said, "_Bene!_" "Be calm, my daughter," whispered the Capuchin. "At least," said the Procurator General, "you can now be certain that you had seen the Honourable Rossi before you met him in Rome?" "I can." "In fact you recognise in the illustrious Deputy the young man condemned in contumacy eighteen years ago?" "I do." "Perhaps in his letters or conversations he has even admitted the identity?" "He has." "Only one more question, Donna Roma," said the Procurator General, with another smile. "Your father's name in England was Doctor Roselli, and the name of his young confederate----" "Courage, my child," whispered the Capuchin, taking Roma's ice-cold hand in his own trembling one. "The name of his young confederate was----" "David Leone," said Roma, lifting her eyes to the face of Father Pifferi. "So David Leone and David Rossi are one and the same person?" "Yes," said Roma, and the Capuchin dropped back in his seat as if he had been dealt a blow. "Thank you. I need trouble you no more. My secretary will now prepare the _precis_." Commendatore Angelelli returned with the Carabineer, and there was some talking in low tones. "Report for the Committee of the Chamber, sir?" "That is unnecessary at this moment, the House having risen for Easter." "Warrant for the arrest, then?" "Certainly. Here is the form. Fill it up, and I will sign." While the secretary wrote his _precis_ at one side of the table, the Chief of Police prepared his _mandato_ at the other side, repeating the words to the Carabineer who stood behind his chair. "We ... considering the conclusions of the Public Minister ... according to Article 187 of the Code ... order the arrest of David Leone, commonly called David Rossi ... imputed guilty of attempted regicide in the year ... and tried and condemned in contumacy for the crime contemplated in Article.... And to such effects we require the Corps of the Royal Carabineers to conduct him before us to be interrogated on the facts above stated, and call on all officials and agents of the public force to lend a strong hand for the execution of the present warrant. Age, 34 years. Height, 1.79 metres. Forehead, lofty. Eyes, large and dark. Nose, Roman. Hair, black with short curls. Beard and moustache, clean shaven. _Corporatura_, distinguished." When the secretary had finished his _precis_ he read it aloud to Roma and his superior. "Good! Give the lady the pen. You will sign this paper, Donna Roma--and that will do." Roma and Father Pifferi had both risen. "Courage," the Capuchin tried to say, but his quivering lips emitted no sound. Roma stood a moment with the pen in her fingers, and her great eyes looked slowly round the room. Then she stooped and wrote her name rapidly. At the same moment the Procurator General signed the warrant, whereupon the Chief of Police handed it to the Carabineer, saying, "Lose no time--Chiasso," and the soldier went out hurriedly. Roma held the pen a moment longer, and then it dropped out of her fingers. "Come," said the Capuchin, and they left the room. There was a crowd on the embankment by the corner of the Ripetta bridge. The body of a beggar had been brought out of the river, and it was lying there for the formal inspection of the officials who report on cases of sudden death. Roma stopped to look at the dead man. It was Old John. He had committed suicide. _ |
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