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

Your Eminence suppose he answered me? He lay looking at me a minute, like a wolf in a cage, and then said quite softly: ‘Colonel, I can’t get up and strangle you; but my teeth are pretty good; you had better take your throat a little further off.’ He is as savage as a wildcat.”

“I am not surprised to hear it,” Montanelli answered quietly. “But I came to ask you a question. Do you honestly believe that the presence of Rivarez in the prison here constitutes a serious danger to the peace of the district?”

“Most certainly I do, Your Eminence.”

“You think that, to prevent the risk of bloodshed, it is absolutely necessary that he should somehow be got rid of before Corpus Domini?”

“I can only repeat that if he is here on Thursday, I do not expect the festival to pass over without a fight, and I think it likely to be a serious one.”

“And you think that if he were not here there would be no such danger?”

“In that case, there would either be no disturbance at all, or at most a little shouting and stone-throwing. If Your Eminence can find some way of getting rid of him, I will undertake that the peace shall be kept. Otherwise, I expect most serious trouble. I am convinced that a new rescue plot is on hand, and Thursday is the day when we may expect the attempt. Now, if on that very morning they suddenly find that he is not in the fortress at all, their plan fails of itself, and they have no occasion to begin fighting. But if we have to repulse them, and the daggers once get drawn among such throngs of people, we are likely to have the place burnt down before nightfall.”

“Then why do you not send him in to Ravenna?”

“Heaven knows, Your Eminence, I should be thankful to do it! But how am I to prevent the people rescuing him on the way? I have not soldiers enough to resist an armed attack; and all these mountaineers have got knives or flintlocks or some such thing.”

“You still persist, then, in wishing for a court-martial, and in asking my consent to it?”

“Pardon me, Your Eminence; I ask you only one thing⁠—to help me prevent riots and bloodshed. I am quite willing to admit that the military commissions, such as that of Colonel Freddi, were sometimes unnecessarily severe, and irritated instead of subduing the people; but I think that in this case a court-martial would be a wise measure and in the long run a merciful one. It would prevent a riot, which in itself would be a terrible disaster, and which very likely might cause a return of the military commissions His Holiness has abolished.”

The Governor finished his little speech with much solemnity, and waited for the Cardinal’s answer. It was a long time coming; and when it came was startlingly unexpected.

“Colonel Ferrari, do you believe in God?”

“Your Eminence!” the colonel gasped in a voice full of exclamation-stops.

“Do you believe in God?” Montanelli repeated, rising and looking down at him with steady, searching eyes. The colonel rose too.

“Your Eminence, I am a Christian man, and have never yet been refused absolution.”

Montanelli lifted the cross from his breast.

“Then swear on the cross of the Redeemer Who died for you, that you have been speaking the truth to me.”

The colonel stood still and gazed at it blankly. He could not quite make up his mind which was mad, he or the Cardinal.

“You have asked me,” Montanelli went on, “to give my consent to a man’s death. Kiss the cross, if you dare, and tell me that you believe there is no other way to prevent greater bloodshed. And remember that if you tell me a lie you are imperilling your immortal soul.”

After a little pause, the Governor bent down and put the cross to his lips.

“I believe it,” he said.

Montanelli turned slowly away.

“I will give you a definite answer tomorrow. But first I must see Rivarez and speak to him alone.”

“Your Eminence⁠—if I might suggest⁠—I am sure you will regret it. For that matter, he sent me a message yesterday, by the guard, asking to see Your Eminence; but I took no notice of it, because⁠—”

“Took no notice!” Montanelli repeated. “A man in such circumstances sent you a message, and you took no notice of it?”

“I am sorry if Your Eminence is displeased. I did not wish to trouble you over a mere impertinence like that; I know Rivarez well enough by now to feel sure that he only wanted to insult you. And, indeed, if you will allow me to say so, it would be most imprudent to go near him alone; he is really dangerous⁠—so much so, in fact, that I have thought it necessary to use some physical restraint of a mild kind⁠—”

“And you really think there is much danger to be apprehended from one sick and unarmed man, who is under physical restraint of a mild kind?” Montanelli spoke quite gently, but the colonel felt the sting of his quiet contempt, and flushed under it resentfully.

“Your Eminence will do as you think best,” he said in his stiffest manner. “I only wished to spare you the pain of hearing this man’s awful blasphemies.”

“Which do you think the more grievous misfortune for a Christian man; to hear a blasphemous word uttered, or to abandon a fellow-creature in extremity?”

The Governor stood erect and stiff, with his official face, like a face of wood. He was deeply offended at Montanelli’s treatment of him, and showed it by unusual ceremoniousness.

“At what time does Your Eminence wish to visit the prisoner?” he asked.

“I will go to him at once.”

“As Your Eminence pleases. If you will kindly wait a few moments, I will send someone to prepare him.”

The Governor had come down from his official pedestal in a great hurry. He did not want Montanelli to see the straps.

“Thank you; I would rather see him as he is, without preparation.