, going side by side, and almost
touching. The feeling that she had been fatal to the man since then
nearly choked and blinded her, but it urged her on. If she remained
until some one came, and the crime was discovered, what was she to say
that would not incriminate her husband?

Suddenly she became aware of sounds from below--the measured footsteps
of soldiers. She knew who they were. They were the Carabineers, and they
were coming for Rossi, who had escaped and was being pursued.

Roma turned instantly, and with a noiseless step fled back to the door
of the apartment, opened it with her latch-key, closed it silently, and
bolted it on the inside. This was done before she knew what she was
doing, and when she regained full possession of her faculties she was in
the sitting-room, and the Carabineers were ringing at the electric bell.

They rang repeatedly. Roma stood in the middle of the floor, listening
and holding her breath.

"Deuce take it!" said a voice outside. "Why doesn't the woman open the
door if she doesn't want to get herself into trouble? She's at home, at
all events."

"So is he, if I know anything," said a second voice. "He drove here
anyway--not a doubt about that."

"Let's see the porter--he'll have another key."

"The old fool is out at the illuminations. But listen...." (the door
rattled as if some one was shaking it). "This door is fastened on the
inside."

There was a chuckling laugh, and then, "All right, boys! Down with it!"

A moment afterwards the door was broken open and four Carabineers were
in the dining-room. Roma awaited their irruption without a word. She
continued to stand in the middle of the sitting-room looking straight
before her.

"Holy saints, what's this?" cried the voice she had heard first, and she
knew that the Carabineers were bending over the body on the couch.

"His Excellency!"

"Lord save us!"

Roma's head was dizzy, and something more was said which she did not
follow. At the next moment the Carabineers had entered the sitting-room;
she was standing face to face with them, and they were questioning her.

"The Honourable Rossi is here, isn't he?"

"No," she answered in a timid voice.

"But he has been here, hasn't he?"

"No," she answered more boldly.

"Do you mean to say that the Honourable Rossi has not been here
to-night?"

"I do," she said, with exaggerated emphasis.

The marshal of the Carabineers, who had been speaking, looked
attentively at