Italy -- History -- 1815-1870 -- Fiction; Italy -- History -- Revolution of 1848 -- Fiction; Revolutionaries -- Fiction
“It is a defect from which I have always suffered.”
“Indeed! And I heard the other day from a university professor that you
are considered by no means deficient; rather clever in fact.”
“You probably judge of cleverness by the police-spy standard; university
professors use words in a different sense.”
The note of rising irritation was plainly audible in Arthur's voice. He
was physically exhausted with hunger, foul air, and want of sleep; every
bone in his body seemed to ache separately; and the colonel's voice
grated on his exasperated nerves, setting his teeth on edge like the
squeak of a slate pencil.
“Mr. Burton,” said the colonel, leaning back in his chair and speaking
gravely, “you are again forgetting yourself; and I warn you once more
that this kind of talk will do you no good. Surely you have had enough
of the dark cell not to want any more just for the present. I tell you
plainly that I shall use strong measures with you if you persist in
repulsing gentle ones. Mind, I have proof--positive proof--that some
of these young men have been engaged in smuggling prohibited literature
into this port; and that you have been in communication with them. Now,
are you going to tell me, without compulsion, what you know about this
affair?”
Arthur bent his head lower. A blind, senseless, wild-beast fury was
beginning to stir within him like a live thing. The possibility of
losing command over himself was more appalling to him than any threats.
For the first time he began to realize what latent potentialities may
lie hidden beneath the culture of any gentleman and the piety of any
Christian; and the terror of himself was strong upon him.
“I am waiting for your answer,” said the colonel.
“I have no answer to give.”
“You positively refuse to answer?”
“I will tell you nothing at all.”
“Then I must simply order you back into the punishment cell, and keep
you there till you change your mind. If there is much more trouble with
you, I shall put you in irons.”
Arthur looked up, trembling from head to foot. “You will do as you
please,” he said slowly; “and whether the English Ambassador will stand
your playing tricks of that kind with a British subject who has not been
convicted of any crime is for him to decide.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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