第 18 页

Monsignor Gamba del Zoppo, a _Cameriere segreto_, and son of one of his

aunts, who had married an Italian colonel. And in some measure for these

reasons he had been attached to the embassy to the Holy See, his

superiors tolerating his somewhat fantastic ways, his everlasting passion

for art which sent him wandering hither and thither through Rome. He was

moreover very amiable and extremely well-bred; and it occasionally

happened, as was the case that morning, that with his weary and somewhat

mysterious air he came to speak to one or another of the cardinals on

some real matter of business in the ambassador's name.

So as to converse with Pierre at his ease, he drew him into the deep

embrasure of one of the windows. "Ah! my dear Abbe, how pleased I am to

see you!" said he. "You must remember what pleasant chats we had when we

met at Cardinal Bergerot's! I told you about some paintings which you

were to see for your book, some miniatures of the fourteenth and

fifteenth centuries. And now, you know, I mean to take possession of you.

I'll show you Rome as nobody else could show it to you. I've seen and

explored everything. Ah! there are treasures, such treasures! But in

truth there is only one supreme work; one always comes back to one's

particular passion. The Botticelli in the Sixtine Chapel--ah, the

Botticelli!"

His voice died away, and he made a faint gesture as if overcome by

admiration. Then Pierre had to promise that he would place himself in his

hands and accompany him to the Sixtine Chapel. "You know why I am here,"

at last said the young priest. "Proceedings have been taken against my

book; it has been denounced to the Congregation of the Index."

"Your book! is it possible?" exclaimed Narcisse: "a book like that with

pages recalling the delightful St. Francis of Assisi!" And thereupon he

obligingly placed himself at Pierre's disposal. "But our ambassador will

be very useful to you," he said. "He is the best man in the world, of

charming affability, and full of the old French spirit. I will present

you to him this afternoon or to-morrow morning at the latest; and since

you desire an immediate audience with the Pope, he will endeavour to

obtain one for you. His position naturally designates him as your

intermediary. Still, I must confess that things are not always easily

managed. Although the Holy Father is very fond of him, there are times

when his Excellency fails, for the approaches are so extremely

intricate."

Pierre had not thought of employing the ambassador's good offices, for he

had naively imagined that an accused priest who came to defend himself

would find every door open. However, he was delighted with Narcisse's

offer, and thanked him as warmly as if the audience were already

obtained.

"Besides," the young man continued, "if we encounter any difficulties I

have relatives at the Vatican, as you know. I don't mean my uncle the

Cardinal, who would be of no use to us, for he never stirs out of his

office at the Propaganda, and will never apply for anything. But my

cousin, Monsignor Gamba del Zoppo, is very obliging, and he lives in

intimacy with the Pope, his duties requiring his constant attendance on

him. So, if necessary, I will take you to see him, and he will no doubt

find a means of procuring you an interview, though his extreme prudence

keeps him perpetually afraid of compromising himself. However, it's

understood, you may rely on me in every respect."

"Ah! my dear sir," exclaimed Pierre, relieved and happy, "I heartily

accept your offer. You don't know what balm your words have brought me;

for ever since my arrival everybody has been discouraging me, and you are

the first to restore my strength by looking at things in the true French

way."

Then, lowering his voice, he told the _attache_ of his interview with

Cardinal Boccanera, of his conviction that the latter would not help him,

of the unfavourable information which had been given by Cardinal

Sanguinetti, and of the rivalry which he had divined between the two

prelates. Narcisse listened, smiling, and in his turn began to gossip

confidentially. The rivalry which Pierre had mentioned, the premature

contest for the tiara which Sanguinetti and Boccanera were waging,

impelled to it by a furious desire to become the next Pope, had for a

long time been revolutionising the black world. There was incredible

intricacy in the depths of the affair; none could exactly tell who was

pulling the strings, conducting the vast intrigue. As regards

generalities it was simply known that Boccanera represented

absolutism--the Church freed from all compromises with modern society,

and waiting in immobility for the Deity to triumph over Satan, for Rome

to be restored to the Holy Father, and for repentant Italy to perform

penance for its sacrilege; whereas Sanguinetti, extremely politic and

supple, was reported to harbour bold and novel ideas: permission to vote

to be granted to all true Catholics,* a majority to be gained by this

means in the Legislature; then, as a fatal corollary, the downfall of the

House of Savoy, and the proclamation of a kind of republican federation

of all the former petty States of Italy under the august protectorate of

the Pope. On the whole, the struggle was between these two antagonistic

elements--the first bent on upholding the Church by a rigorous

maintenance of the old traditions, and the other predicting the fall of

the Church if it did not follow the bent of the coming century. But all

was steeped in so much mystery that people ended by thinking that, if the

present Pope should live a few years longer, his successor would

certainly be neither Boccanera nor Sanguinetti.

* Since the occupation of Rome by the Italian authorities, the

supporters of the Church, obedient to the prohibition of the

Vatican, have abstained from taking part in the political

elections, this being their protest against the new order of

things which they do not recognise. Various attempts have been

made, however, to induce the Pope to give them permission to

vote, many members of the Roman aristocracy considering the

present course impolitic and even harmful to the interests of

the Church.--Trans.

All at once Pierre interrupted Narcisse: "And Monsignor Nani, do you know

him? I spoke with him yesterday evening. And there he is coming in now!"

Nani was indeed just entering the ante-room with his usual smile on his

amiable pink face. His cassock of fine texture, and his sash of violet

silk shone with discreet soft luxury. And he showed himself very amiable

to Abbe Paparelli, who, accompanying him in all humility, begged him to

be kind enough to wait until his Eminence should be able to receive him.

"Oh! Monsignor Nani," muttered Narcisse, becoming serious, "he is a man

whom it is advisable to have for a friend."

Then, knowing Nani's history, he related it in an undertone. Born at

Venice, of a noble but ruined family which had produced heroes, Nani,

after first studying under the Jesuits, had come to Rome to perfect

himself in philosophy and theology at the Collegio Romano, which was then

also under Jesuit management. Ordained when three and twenty, he had at

once followed a nuncio to Bavaria as private secretary; and then had gone

as _auditore_ to the nunciatures of Brussels and Paris, in which latter

city he had lived for five years. Everything seemed to predestine him to

diplomacy, his brilliant beginnings and his keen and encyclopaedical

intelligence; but all at once he had been recalled to Rome, where he was

soon afterwards appointed Assessor to the Holy Office. It was asserted at

the time that this was done by the Pope himself, who, being well

acquainted with Nani, and desirous of having a person he could depend

upon at the Holy Office, had given instructions for his recall, saying

that he could render far more services at Rome than abroad. Already a

domestic prelate, Nani had also lately become a Canon of St. Peter's and

an apostolic prothonotary, with the prospect of obtaining a cardinal's

hat whenever the Pope should find some other favourite who would please

him better as assessor.

"Oh, Monsignor Nani!" continued Narcisse. "He's a superior man,

thoroughly well acquainted with modern Europe, and at the same time a

very saintly priest, a sincere believer, absolutely devoted to the

Church, with the substantial faith of an intelligent politician--a belief

different, it is true, from the narrow gloomy theological faith which we

know so well in France. And this is one of the reasons why you will

hardly understand things here at first. The Roman prelates leave the

Deity in the sanctuary and reign in His name, convinced that Catholicism

is the human expression of the government of God, the only perfect and

eternal government, beyond the pales of which nothing but falsehood and

social danger can be found. While we in our country lag behind, furiously

arguing whether there be a God or not, they do not admit that God's

existence can be doubted, since they themselves are his delegated

ministers; and they entirely devote themselves to playing their parts as

ministers whom none can dispossess, exercising their power for the

greatest good of humanity, and devoting all their intelligence, all their

energy to maintaining themselves as the accepted masters of the nations.

As for Monsignor Nani, after being mixed up in the politics of the whole

world, he has for ten years been discharging the most delicate functions

in Rome, taking part in the most varied and most important affairs. He

sees all the foreigners who come to Rome, knows everything, has a hand in

everything. Add to this that he is extremely discreet and amiable, with a

modesty which seems perfect, though none can tell whether, with his light

silent footstep, he is not really marching towards the highest ambition,

the purple of sovereignty."

"Another candidate for the tiara," thought Pierre, who had listened

passionately; for this man Nani interested him, caused him an instinctive

disquietude, as though behind his pink and smiling face he could divine

an infinity of obscure things. At the same time, however, the young

priest but ill understood his friend, for he again felt bewildered by all

this strange Roman world, so different from what he had expected.

Nani had perceived the two young men and came towards them with his hand

cordially outstretched "Ah! Monsieur l'Abbe Froment, I am happy to meet

you again. I won't ask you if you have slept well, for people always

sleep well at Rome. Good-day, Monsieur Habert; your health has kept good

I hope, since I met you in front of Bernini's Santa Teresa, which you

admire so much.* I see that you know one another. That is very nice. I

must tell you, Monsieur l'Abbe, that Monsieur Habert is a passionate

lover of our city; he will be able to show you all its finest sights."

* The allusion is to a statue representing St. Theresa in ecstasy,

with the Angel of Death descending to transfix her with his dart.

It stands in a transept of Sta. Maria della Vittoria.--Trans.

Then, in his affectionate way, he at once asked for information

respecting Pierre's interview with the Cardinal. He listened attentively

to the young man's narrative, nodding his head at certain passages, and

occasionally restraining his sharp smile. The Cardinal's severity and

Pierre's conviction that he would accord him no support did not at all

astonish Nani. It seemed as if he had expected that result. However, on

hearing that Cardinal Sanguinetti had been there that morning, and had

pronounced the affair of the book to be very serious, he appeared to lose

his self-control for a moment, for he spoke out with sudden vivacity:

"It can't be helped, my dear child, my intervention came too late.

Directly I heard of the proceedings I went to his Eminence Cardinal

Sanguinetti to tell him that the result would be an immense advertisement

for your book. Was it sensible? What was the use of it? We know that you

are inclined to be carried away by your ideas, that you are an

enthusiast, and are prompt to do battle. So what advantage should we gain

by embarrassing ourselves with the revolt of a young priest who might

wage war against us with a book of which some thousands of copies have

been sold already? For my part I desired that nothing should be done. And

I must say that the Cardinal, who is a man of sense, was of the same

mind. He raised his arms to heaven, went into a passion, and exclaimed

that he was never consulted, that the blunder was already committed

beyond recall, and that it was impossible to prevent process from taking

its course since the matter had already been brought before the

Congregation, in consequence of denunciations from authoritative sources,

based on the gravest motives. Briefly, as he said, the blunder was

committed, and I had to think of something else."

All at once Nani paused. He had just noticed that Pierre's ardent eyes

were fixed upon his own, striving to penetrate his meaning. A faint flush

then heightened the pinkiness of his complexion, whilst in an easy way he

continued, unwilling to reveal how annoyed he was at having said too

much: "Yes, I thought of helping you with all the little influence I

possess, in order to extricate you from the worries in which this affair

will certainly land you."

An impulse of revolt was stirring Pierre, who vaguely felt that he was

perhaps being made game of. Why should he not be free to declare his

faith, which was so pure, so free from personal considerations, so full

of glowing Christian charity? "Never," said he, "will I withdraw; never

will I myself suppress my book, as I am advised to do. It would be an act

of cowardice and falsehood, for I regret nothing, I disown nothing. If I

believe that my book brings a little truth to light I cannot destroy it