Officer,
please!" "Please, Mr. Officer!" "Be kind to Giuseppe, and the saints
bless you!" "My turn next!" "No, mine!" "Don't push!" "You're pushing
yourself!" "You're knocking the basket out of my hands!" "Getaway!" "You
cat! You...."

"Silence! Silence! Silence!" cried the officer, shouting the women down,
and meantime the men in the street outside curled their lips and tried
to laugh.

Into this wild scene, full of the acrid exhalations of human breath, and
the nauseating odour of unclean bodies, but moved, nevertheless, by the
finger of God Himself, the cab which brought Roma to see Bruno
discharged her at the prison door.

The officer on the steps saw her over the heads of the women with their
outstretched arms, and judging from her appearance that she came on
other business, he called to a Carabineer to attend to her.

"I wish to see the Director," said Roma.

"Certainly, Excellency," said the Carabineer, and with a salute he led
the way by a side door to the offices on the floor above.

The Governor of Regina C[oe]li was a middle-aged man with a kindly face,
but under the new order he could do nothing.

"Everything relating to the political prisoners is in the hands of the
Royal Commissioner," he said.

"Where can I see him, Cavaliere?"

"He is with the Minister of War to-day, arranging for the military
tribunals, but perhaps to-morrow at his office in the Castle of St.
Angelo...."

"Thanks! Meantime can I send a message into the prison?"

"Yes."

"And may I pay for a separate cell for a prisoner, with food and light,
if necessary?"

"Undoubtedly."

Roma undertook the expense of these privileges and then scribbled a note
to Bruno.

"DEAR FRIEND,--Don't lose heart! Your dear ones shall be cared for
and comforted. He whom you love is safe and your darling is in
heaven. Sleep well! These days will pass.
"R. V."

III

That night Roma wrote the first part of a letter to David Rossi:

"David--my David! It is early days to call you by a dearer name,
but the sweet word is on the tip of my pen, and I can hardly help
myself from scribbling it. You wished me to tell you what is
happening in Rome, and here I am beginning to write already,
though when and how and where this letter is to reach you, I must
leave it to Fate and to yourself to determine. Fancy! Only
eig