, well for the poor lady,
and even for her husband, whoever he may be."

"Whoever he may be," repeated the Capuchin.

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