"There was only one piece of evidence connecting you with the scene of the crime, my son. It was this."
The Pope drew from his breast the warrant he had taken from Roma.
"She had it?"
"Yes."
Rossi's emotions whirled within him in a kind of hurricane. The despair which had clamoured so loud looked mean and contemptible in the presence of the mighty passion which had put it to shame. But after a while his swimming eyes began to shine, and he said:
"Holy Father, this paper belongs to me and you must permit me to keep it."
"What do you intend to do, my son?"
"There is only one thing to do now."
"What is that?"
"To save her."