"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 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 wild-cat."
"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 flint-locks 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 to-morrow. 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. I will go straight up to the fortress. Good-evening, colonel; you may expect my answer to-morrow morning."
CHAPTER VI.
HEARING the cell-door unlocked, the Gadfly turned away his eyes with languid indifference. He supposed that it was only the Governor, coming to worry him with another interrogation. Several soldiers mounted the narrow stair, their carbines clanking against the wall; then a deferential voice said: "It is rather steep here, Your Eminence."
He started convulsively, and then shrank down, catching his breath under the stinging pressure of the straps.
Montanelli came in with the sergeant and three guards.
"If Your Eminence will kindly wait a moment," the sergeant began nervously, "one of my men will bring a chair. He has just gone to fetch it. Your Eminence will excuse us--if we had been expecting you, we should have been prepared."
"There is no need for any preparation. Will you kindly leave us alone, sergeant; and wait at the foot of the stairs with your men?"
"Yes, Your Eminence. Here is the chair; shall I put it beside him?"
The Gadfly was lying with closed eyes; but he felt that Montanelli was looking at him.
"I think he is asleep, Your Eminence," the sergeant was beginning, but the Gadfly opened his eyes.
"No," he said.
As the soldiers were leaving the cell they were stopped by a sudden exclamation from Montanelli; and, turning back, saw that he was bending down to examine the straps.
"Who has been doing this?" he asked. The sergeant fumbled with his cap.
"It was by the Governor's express orders, Your Eminence."
"I had no idea of this, Signer Rivarez," Montanelli said in a voice of great distress.
"I told Your Eminence," the Gadfly answered, with his hard smile, "that I n-n-never expected to be patted on the head."
"Sergeant, how long has this been going on?"
"Since he tried to escape, Your Eminence."
"That is, nearly a week? Bring a knife and cut these off at once."
"May it please Your Eminence, the doctor wanted to take them off, but Colonel Ferrari wouldn't allow it."
"Bring a knife at once." Montanelli had not raised his voice, but the soldiers could see that he was white with anger. The sergeant took a clasp-knife from his pocket, and bent down to cut the arm-strap. He was not a skilful-fingered man; and he jerked the strap tighter with an awkward movement, so that the Gadfly winced and bit his lip in spite of all his self-control. Montanelli came forward at once.
"You don't know how to do it; give me the knife."
"Ah-h-h!" The Gadfly stretched out his arms with a long, rapturous sigh as the strap fell off. The next instant Montanelli had cut the other one, which bound his ankles.
"Take off the irons, too, sergeant; and then come here. I want to speak to you."
He stood by the window, looking on, till the sergeant threw down the fetters and approached him.
"Now," he said, "tell me everything that has been happening."
The sergeant, nothing loath, related all that he knew of the Gadfly's illness, of the "disciplinary measures," and of the doctor's unsuccessful attempt to interfere.
"But I think, Your Eminence," he added, "that the colonel wanted the straps kept on as a means of getting evidence."
"Evidence?"
"Yes, Your Eminence; the day before yesterday I heard him offer to have them taken off if he"--with a glance at the Gadfly--"would answer a question he had asked."
Montanelli clenched his hand on the window-sill, and the soldiers glanced at one another: they had never seen the gentle Cardinal angry before. As for the Gadfly, he had forgotten their existence; he had forgotten everything except the physical sensation of freedom. He was cramped in every limb; and now stretched, and turned, and twisted about in a positive ecstasy of relief.
"You can go now, sergeant," the Cardinal said. "You need not feel anxious about having committed a breach of discipline; it was your duty to tell me when I asked you. See that no one disturbs us. I will come out when I am ready."
When the door had closed behind the soldiers, he leaned on the window-sill and looked for a while at the sinking sun, so as to leave the Gadfly a little more breathing time.
"I have heard," he said presently, leaving the window, and sitting down beside the pallet, "that you wish to speak to me alone. If you feel well enough to tell me what you wanted to say, I am at your service."
He spoke very coldly, with a stiff, imperious manner that was not natural to him. Until the straps were off, the Gadfly was to him simply a grievously wronged and tortured human being; but now he recalled their last interview, and the deadly insult with which it had closed. The Gadfly looked up, resting his head lazily on one arm. He possessed the gift of slipping into graceful attitudes; and when his face was in shadow no one would have guessed through what deep waters he had been passing. But, as he looked up, the clear evening light showed how haggard and colourless he was, and how plainly the trace of the last few days was stamped on him. Montanelli's anger died away.
"I am afraid you have been terribly ill," he said. "I am sincerely sorry that I did not know of all this. I would have put a stop to it before."
The Gadfly shrugged his shoulders. "All's fair in war," he said coolly. "Your Eminence objects to straps theoretically, from the Christian standpoint; but it is hardly fair to expect the colonel to see that. He, no doubt, would prefer not to try them on his own skin--which is j-j-just my case. But that is a matter of p-p-personal convenience. At this moment I am undermost-- w-w-what would you have? It is very kind of Your Eminence, though, to call here; but perhaps that was done from the C-c-christian standpoint, too. Visiting prisoners--ah, yes! I forgot. 'Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of the l-least of these'--it's not very complimentary, but one of the least is duly grateful."
"Signor Rivarez," the Cardinal interrupted, "I have come here on your account--not on my own. If you had not been 'undermost,' as you call it, I should never have spoken to you again after what you said to me last week; but you have the double privilege of a prisoner and a sick man, and I could not refuse to come. Have you anything to say to me, now I am here; or have you sent for me merely to amuse yourself by insulting an old man?"
There was no answer. The Gadfly had turned. away, and was lying with one hand across his eyes.
"I am--very sorry to trouble you," he said at last, huskily; "but could I have a little water?"
There was a jug of water standing by the window, and Montanelli rose and fetched it. As he slipped his arm round the Gadfly to lift him, he suddenly felt the damp, cold fingers close over his wrist like a vice.
"Give me your hand--quick--just a moment," the Gadfly whispered. "Oh, what difference does it make to you? Only one minute!"
He sank down, hiding his face on Montanelli's arm, and quivering from head to foot.
"Drink a little water," Montanelli said after a moment. The Gadfly obeyed silently; then lay back on the pallet with closed eyes. He himself could have given no explanation of what had happened to him when Montanelli's hand had touched his cheek; he only knew that in all his life there had been nothing more terrible.
