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'I shall ask you to say nothing about this to anyone, said Racksole. 'The news of Jules' arrest is quite private to myself. The papers know nothing of it. You comprehend? Rocco smiled in his grand manner, and Rocco's master thereupon went away. Racksole was very well satisfied with the little conversation.
Thus they faced each other, their knees almost touching, both in evening dress. On Rocco's right hand was the bed, with the corpse of Reginald Dimmock. On Racksole's right hand, and a little behind him, was the marble washstand, still littered with Rocco's implements. The electric light shone on Rocco's left cheek, leaving the other side of his face in shadow.
His dying prayer was that all Christians who prayed to him in the name of Jesus might be delivered from pestilence. Shortly after Rocco's death an angel descended to earth with a table written in letters of gold stating that this wish had been granted. In the carvings in the chancel, the bronzes on the gate and in Tintoretto's pictures in the neighbouring church, much of this story may be traced.
He was so dumbfounded by the affair, and especially by Rocco's absolute and sublime calm, that both speech and thought failed him. 'I give in, said Rocco. 'From the moment you entered this cursed hotel I was afraid of you. I told Jules I was afraid of you. I knew there would be trouble with a man of your kidney, and I was right; confound it! I tell you I give in. I know when I'm beaten.
He found it apparently just as Nanina was going out; for she heard him call to one of the workmen in the inner studio, and order the man to say, if anybody wanted him, that he had gone to Father Rocco's lodgings.
The hair of Irma di Karski was of singular beauty, and so dear to her that the allusion to the triumphant feature of her person passed off Rocco's irony in sugar. 'Addio! I shall astonish you before many hours have gone by, she said; and this time they bowed together, and the maestro tripped back hurriedly, and shut his door.
The priest doubted whether Sigismondo had spoken in confession or not; and he could not prevent the crime, could not save this human life in peril, unless he made use of what he had heard in confidence. Should he do this or should he let a man be killed?" "It is Don Rocco's opinion," concluded the professor, "that the priest should act as a policeman."
He clenched his fists, and put his teeth together, and held his breath. In the silence he could hear the dwindling sound of Rocco's footsteps on the thick carpet. It was the greatest blow of Racksole's life. The next morning the high-born guests of the Grand Babylon were aroused by a rumour that by some accident the millionaire proprietor of the hotel had remained all night locked up m the lift.
And he worked the wheel madly for a second swerve; the huge car skidded, spun round, and, reeling on two wheels for an instant, turned over in the ditch. It was several moments before Pauline opened her eyes. She shut them quickly and staggered to her feet shuddering she had been lying across Rocco's dead body which had broken her fall and saved her life. Two other men lay motionless in the road.
Agostino had done his best to put the heart of the creed of his Chief into these last verses. Rocco's music floated them in solemn measures, and Vittoria had been careful to articulate throughout the sacred monotony so that their full meaning should be taken.
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