Italy -- History -- 1815-1870 -- Fiction; Italy -- History -- Revolution of 1848 -- Fiction; Revolutionaries -- Fiction
“My son,” he said, “God forbid that I should say He has not spoken to
your soul. But remember your condition when this thing happened, and do
not take the fancies of grief or illness for His solemn call. And if,
indeed, it has been His will to answer you out of the shadow of death,
be sure that you put no false construction on His word. What is this
thing you have it in your heart to do?”
Arthur stood up and answered slowly, as though repeating a catechism:
“To give up my life to Italy, to help in freeing her from all this
slavery and wretchedness, and in driving out the Austrians, that she may
be a free republic, with no king but Christ.”
“Arthur, think a moment what you are saying! You are not even an
Italian.”
“That makes no difference; I am myself. I have seen this thing, and I
belong to it.”
There was silence again.
“You spoke just now of what Christ would have said----” Montanelli began
slowly; but Arthur interrupted him:
“Christ said: 'He that loseth his life for my sake shall find it.'”
Montanelli leaned his arm against a branch, and shaded his eyes with one
hand.
“Sit down a moment, my son,” he said at last.
Arthur sat down, and the Padre took both his hands in a strong and
steady clasp.
“I cannot argue with you to-night,” he said; “this has come upon me so
suddenly--I had not thought--I must have time to think it over. Later on
we will talk more definitely. But, for just now, I want you to remember
one thing. If you get into trouble over this, if you--die, you will
break my heart.”
“Padre----”
“No; let me finish what I have to say. I told you once that I have no
one in the world but you. I think you do not fully understand what that
means. It is difficult when one is so young; at your age I should not
have understood. Arthur, you are as my--as my--own son to me. Do you
see? You are the light of my eyes and the desire of my heart. I would
die to keep you from making a false step and ruining your life. But
there is nothing I can do. I don't ask you to make any promises to me; I
only ask you to remember this, and to be careful. Think well before
you take an irrevocable step, for my sake, if not for the sake of your
mother in heaven.”
“I will think--and--Padre, pray for me, and for Italy.”
He knelt down in silence, and in silence Montanelli laid his hand on the
bent head. A moment later Arthur rose, kissed the hand, and went softly
away across the dewy grass. Montanelli sat alone under the magnolia
tree, looking straight before him into the blackness.
“It is the vengeance of God that has fallen upon me,” he thought, “as it
fell upon David. I, that have defiled His sanctuary, and taken the Body
of the Lord into polluted hands,--He has been very patient with me, and
now it is come. 'For thou didst it secretly, but I will do this thing
before all Israel, and before the sun; THE CHILD THAT IS BORN UNTO THEE
SHALL SURELY DIE.'”
CHAPTER II.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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