"It was too sweet dreaming. I was too happy for a little while."
"If it must be, it must be. But let us be brave, dear! We, who take up a
life like this, must learn renunciation.... Crying, Roma?"
"No! Oh, no! But renunciation! That's it--renunciation." She could feel
the beating of her heart against his breast. "Love comes to every one,
but to some it comes too late, and then it comes in vain." She was
striving to keep down her sobs. "They have only to conquer it and
renounce it, and to pray God to unite them to their loved ones in
another life." She was choking, but she struggled on. "Sometimes I think
it must be my lot to be like that. Other women may dream of love and
home and children...."
"Don't unman me, Roma."
"Dearest, promise me that whatever happens you will think the best of
me."
"Roma!"
"Promise me that whoever says anything to the contrary you will always
believe I loved you."
"Why should we talk of what can never happen?"
"If we are parting for ever ... if we are saying a long farewell to all
earthly affections, promise me...."
"For God's sake, Roma!"
"Promise me!"
"I promise!" he said. "And you?"
"I promise too--I promise that as long as I live, and wherever I am and
whatever becomes of me, I will ... yes, because I cannot help it ... I
will love you to the last."
Saying this in passionate tones, she drew down his head and he met her
kiss with his lips.
"It is our marriage, David. Others are married in church and by the
hand, and with a ring. We are married in our spirits and our souls."
A long time passed, during which they did not speak. The searchlight
flashed in on them again and again with its supernatural eye, and as
often as it did so Rossi looked at her with strange looks of pity and of
love.
Meantime, she cut a lock from her hair, tied it with a piece of ribbon,
and put it in his pocket with his watch. Then she dried her eyes with
her handkerchief and pushed it in his breast.
The night went on, and nothing was to be heard but the chiming of clocks
outside. At length through the silence there came a muffled rumble from
the streets.
"You must go now," she said, and when the next flash came round she
looked up at him with a steadfast gaze, as if trying to gather into her
eyes her last memories of his face.
"Adieu!"
"Not yet."
"It is still dark, but the streets are patrolled and every gate is
closed, and how are you to escape?"
"If the soldiers had wished to take me they could have done so a hundred
times."
"But the city is stirring. Be careful for my sake. Adieu!"
"Roma," said Rossi, "if I do not take you with me it is partly because I
want your help in Rome. Think of the poor people I leave behind me in
poverty and in prison. Think of Elena when she awakes in the morning,
alone with her terrible grief. Some one should be here to represent me
for a time at all events--to take the messages I must send, the
instructions I shall have to give. It will be a dangerous task, Roma, a
task that can only be undertaken by some one who loves me, some one
who...."
"That is enough. Tell me what I can do," she said.
They arranged a channel of correspondence, and then Roma began her
farewells afresh.
"Roma," said Rossi again, "since I must go away before our civil
marriage can be celebrated, is it not best that our spiritual one should
have the blessing of the Church?"
Roma looked at him and trembled.
"When I am gone God knows what may happen. The Baron may be a free man
any day, and he may put pressure on you to marry him. In that case it
will be strength and courage to you to know that in God's eyes you are
married already. It will be happiness and comfort to me, too, when I am
far away from you and alone."
"But it is impossible."
"Not so. A declaration before a parish priest is all that is necessary.
'Father, this is my wife.' 'This is my husband.' That is enough. It will
have no value in the eye of the law, but it will be a religious marriage
for all that."
"There is no time. You cannot wait...."
"Hush!" The clocks were striking three. "At three o'clock there is mass
at St. Andrea delle Frate. That is your parish church, Roma. The priest
and his acolytes are the only witnesses we require."
"If you think ... that is to say ... if it will make you happy, and be a
strength to me also...."
"Run for your cloak and hat, dearest--in ten minutes it will be done."
"But think again." She was breathing audibly. "Who knows what may happen
before you return? Will you never repent?"
"Never!"
"But ... but there is something ... something I ought to tell
you--something painful. It is about the past."
"The past is past. Let us think of the future."
"You do not wish to hear it."
"If it is painful to you--no!"
"Will nothing and nobody divide us?"
"Nothing and nobody in the world."
She gulped down another choking sob and threw both arms about his neck.
"Take me, then. I am your wife before God and man."