t
of his breast, and the Order of the Annunziata was torn away. There was
a streak of blood over his left eyebrow, and no other sign of injury.
But his eyes themselves were glassy, and his face was pale as death.

"I'm dying, Roma."

"I'll run for a doctor," she said.

"No. Don't do that. I don't want to be found here. Besides, it's
useless. In five minutes a clot of blood will have covered the lacerated
brain, and I shall lose consciousness again. Stupid, isn't it?"

"Let me call for a priest," said Roma.

"Don't do that either. You can do me more good yourself, Roma. Give me a
drink."

Roma was fighting with an almost unconquerable repugnance, but she
brought the Baron a drink of water, and with shaking hands held the
glass to his trembling lips.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"Worse," he answered.

He looked into her eyes with evident contrition, and said, "I wonder if
it would be fair to ask you to forgive me? Would it?"

She did not answer, and he stretched himself and sighed. His breathing
became laboured and stertorous, his skin hot, and his eyes dilated.

"How do you feel now?" asked Roma.

"I'm going," he replied, and he smiled again.

The human soul was gleaming out of the wretched man at the last, and he
was looking at her now with pleading eyes which plainly could not see.

"Are you there, Roma?"

"Yes."

"Promise that you will not leave me."

"I will not leave you now," she answered in a low voice.

After a moment he roused himself with an effort and said, "And this is
the end! How absurd! They'll find me here in any case, and what a
chatter there'll be! The Chamber--the journals--all the scribblers and
speechifiers. What will Europe say? Another Boulanger, perhaps! But I'm
sorry for Italy. Nobody can say I did not love my country. Where her
interest lay I let nothing interfere. And just when everything seemed to
triumph...."

He attempted to laugh. Roma shuddered.

"It was the star of the Annunziata that did it. The man threw it with
such force. To think that it's been the aim of my life to win that Order
and now it kills me! Ridiculous, isn't it?"

Again he attempted to laugh.

"There's a side of justice in that, though, and I'm not going to whine.
The Pope tried to paint an awful end, but his nightmare didn't frighten
me. We must all bow our heads to the law of compensation--the Pope as
well as everybody else. But to die stupidly like this..."

He was speaking with difficu