Paul Gosslett's Confessions in Love, Law, and The Civil ServiceLever, Charles
General
Paul Gosslett's Confessions in Love, Law, and The Civil Service
Lever, Charles
Fiction
What inconceivable folly had ever involved me in such an adventure? How
could I have been so weak as to accept such a mission? Here was I, more
than a thousand miles away from home, alone, on foot in the midst of a
mountain tract, the chosen resort of the worst assassins of Europe, and,
as if to insure my ruin, with a large sum in gold on my person. What
could my friend have meant by proposing the enterprise to me? Did he
imagine the mountain-paths of the Basilicata were like Pall Mall? or did
he,--and this seemed more likely,--did he deem that the man who had
so little to live for must, necessarily, care less for life? If I must
enter the public service, thought I, at the peril of my neck, better to
turn to some other means of living. Then I grew sardonic and malicious,
declaring to myself how like a rich man it was to offer such an
employment to a poor man, as though, when existence had so little to
charm, one could not hold to it with any eagerness. The people, muttered
I, who throw these things to us so contemptuously are careful enough of
themselves. You never find one of them risk his life, no, nor even peril
his health, in any enterprise.
As the sun shone out and lit up a magnificent landscape beneath me,
where, in the midst of a wooded plain, a beautiful lake lay stretched
out, dotted over with little islands, I grew in better humor with
myself and with the world at large. It was certainly very lovely. The
snow-peaks of the Abruzzi could be seen, here and there, topping the
clouds, which floated lightly up from the low-lying lands of the valley.
Often and often had I walked miles and miles to see a scene not fit to
be compared with this. If I had only brought my colors with me, what a
bit of landscape I might have carried away! The pencil could do nothing
where so much depended on tint and glow. A thin line of blue smoke rose
above the trees near the lake, and this I guessed to proceed from the
village of Rocco d'Anco. I plucked up my courage at the sight, and again
set forth, weary and footsore, it is true, but in a cheerier, heartier
spirit than before.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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