"Is there nobody who knows?"
"One, perhaps. But it is my wife, and she could have no interest in saving me now, even if I wished to be saved.... I have read her letters."
"If I were to tell you it is not so, my son—that your wife is still ready to sacrifice herself for your safety...."
"But that is impossible, your Holiness. There are so many things you do not know."
"If I were to tell you that I have just seen her, and, notwithstanding your want of faith in her, she still has faith in you...."
The deep lines of despair began to pass from Rossi's face, and he made a cry of joy.
"If I were to say that she loves you, and would give her life for you...."
"Is it possible? Do you tell me that? In spite of everything? And she—where is she? Let me go to her. Holy Father, if you only knew! I'll go and beg her pardon. I cursed her! Yes, it is true that in my blind, mad passion I.... But let me go back to her on my knees. The rest of my life spent at her feet will not be enough to wipe out my fault."
"Stay, my son. You shall see her presently."
"Can it be possible that I shall see her? I thought I should never see her again; but I counted without God. Ah! God is good after all. And you, Holy Father, you are good too. I will beg her forgiveness, and she will forgive me. Then we'll fly away somewhere—we'll escape to Africa, India, anywhere. We'll snatch a few years of happiness, and what more has anybody a right to expect in this miserable world?"