Just as they were about to
separate at the street door, Father Rocco stopped the servant.
"How is the child?" he asked, with such sudden eagerness and
impatience, that the man looked quite startled as he answered
that the child was perfectly well.
"There is some consolation in that," said Father Rocco, walking
away, and speaking partly to the servant, partly to himself. "My
caution has misled me," he continued, pausing thoughtfully when
he was left alone in the roadway. "I should have risked using the
mother's influence sooner to procure the righteous restitution.
All hope of compassing it now rests on the life of the child.
Infant as she is, her father's ill-gotten wealth may yet be
gathered back to the Church by her hands."
He proceeded rapidly on his way to the studio, until he reached
the river-side and drew close to the bridge which it was
necessary to cross in order to get to his brother's house. Here
he stopped abruptly, as if struck by a sudden idea. The moon had
just risen, and her light, streaming across the river, fell full
upon his face as he stood by the parapet wall that led up to the
bridge. He was so lost in thought that he did not hear the
conversation of two ladies who were advancing along the pathway
close behind him. As they brushed by him, the taller of the two
turned round and looked back at his face.
"Father Rocco!" exclaimed the lady, stopping.
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