The Gadfly by Ethel Voynich (top fiction books of all time .txt) 📕

“At least, then, have the straps a little loosened. It is downright barbarity to keep them drawn so tight.”

“They will stop exactly as they are; and I will thank you, sir, not to talk about barbarity to me. If I do a thing, I have a reason for it.”

So the seventh night passed without any relief, and the soldier stationed on guard at the cell door crossed himself, shuddering, over and over again, as he listened all night long to heartrending moans. The Gadfly’s endurance was failing him at last.

At six in the morning the sentinel, just before going off duty, unlocked the door softly and entered the cell. He knew that he was committing a serious breach of discipline, but could not bear to go away without offering the consolation of a friendly word.

He found the Gadfly lying still, with closed eyes and parted lips. He stood silent for a moment; then stooped down and asked:

“Can I do anything for you, sir? I have only a minute.”

The Gadfly opened his eyes. “Let me alone!” he moaned. “Let me alone⁠—”

He was asleep almost before the soldier had slipped back to his post.

Ten days afterwards the Governor called again at the palace, but found that the Cardinal had gone to visit a sick man at Pieve d’Ottavo, and was not expected home till the afternoon. That evening, just as he was sitting down to dinner, his servant came in to announce:

“His Eminence would like to speak to you.”

The Governor, with a hasty glance into the looking glass, to make sure that his uniform was in order, put on his most dignified air, and went into the reception room, where Montanelli was sitting, beating his hand gently on the arm of the chair and looking out of the window with an anxious line between his brows.

“I heard that you called today,” he said, cutting short the Governor’s polite speeches with a slightly imperious manner which he never adopted in speaking to the country folk. “It was probably on the business about which I have been wishing to speak to you.”

“It was about Rivarez, Your Eminence.”

“So I supposed. I have been thinking the matter over these last few days. But before we go into that, I should like to hear whether you have anything new to tell me.”

The Governor pulled his moustaches with an embarrassed air.

“The fact is, I came to know whether Your Eminence had anything to tell me. If you still have an objection to the course I proposed taking, I should be sincerely glad of your advice in the matter; for, honestly, I don’t know what to do.”

“Is there any new difficulty?”

“Only that next Thursday is the 3rd of June⁠—Corpus Domini⁠—and somehow or other the matter must be settled before then.”

“Thursday is Corpus Domini, certainly; but why must it be settled especially before then?”

“I am exceedingly sorry, Your Eminence, if I seem to oppose you, but I can’t undertake to be responsible for the peace of the town if Rivarez is not got rid of before then. All the roughest set in the hills collects here for that day, as Your Eminence knows, and it is more than probable that they may attempt to break open the fortress gates and take him out. They won’t succeed; I’ll take care of that, if I have to sweep them from the gates with powder and shot. But we are very likely to have something of that kind before the day is over. Here in the Romagna there is bad blood in the people, and when once they get out their knives⁠—”

“I think with a little care we can prevent matters going as far as knives. I have always found the people of this district easy to get on with, if they are reasonably treated. Of course, if you once begin to threaten or coerce a Romagnol he becomes unmanageable. But have you any reason for supposing a new rescue scheme is intended?”

“I heard, both this morning and yesterday, from confidential agents of mine, that a great many rumours are circulating all over the district and that the people are evidently up to some mischief or other. But one can’t find out the details; if one could it would be easier to take precautions. And for my part, after the fright we had the other day, I prefer to be on the safe side. With such a cunning fox as Rivarez one can’t be too careful.”

“The last I heard about Rivarez was that he was too ill to move or speak. Is he recovering, then?”

“He seems much better now, Your Eminence. He certainly has been very ill⁠—unless he was shamming all the time.”

“Have you any reason for supposing that likely?”

“Well, the doctor seems convinced that it was all genuine; but it’s a very mysterious kind of illness. Anyway, he is recovering, and more intractable than ever.”

“What has he done now?”

“There’s not much he can do, fortunately,” the Governor answered, smiling as he remembered the straps. “But his behaviour is something indescribable. Yesterday morning I went into the cell to ask him a few questions; he is not well enough yet to come to me for interrogation⁠—and indeed, I thought it best not to run any risk of the people seeing him until he recovers. Such absurd stories always get about at once.”

“So you went there to interrogate him?”

“Yes, Your Eminence. I hoped he would be more amenable to reason now.”

Montanelli looked him over deliberately, almost as if he had been inspecting a new and disagreeable animal. Fortunately, however, the Governor was fingering his sword-belt, and did not see the look. He went on placidly:

“I have not subjected him to any particular severities, but I have been obliged to be rather strict with him⁠—especially as it is a military prison⁠—and I thought that perhaps a little indulgence might have a good effect. I offered to relax the discipline considerably if he would behave in a reasonable manner; and how does