"That is all done, my boy; at the first signal your father will seek
refuge in the mountains, and your sister with the lady who gave a ball
last night. Ah! the bell is ringing for service. I am going to ask the
superior's permission to go out with my nephew on some family business.
Wait for me at the door of our chapel."
"And suppose he should refuse you?"
"He would compel me to disobey him, which would grieve me deeply, I
confess, not because of the penance to-morrow, but because I do not like
to fail in my duty. The old soldier looks upon his orders as the supreme
law."
Five minutes later, Fra Angelo joined Michel again at the door of the
church.
"Granted," he said, "but I am commanded, in order to pay my debt to God,
to perform an act of faith and say a short prayer before the altar of
the Virgin. As I am excused from attending the evening services, the
least I can do is to ask pardon from my greatest superior. Come and pray
with me, young man; it can do you no harm, and will give you strength."
Michel followed his uncle to the foot of the altar. The setting sun made
the stained-glass windows glow as with fire, and strewed with sapphires
and rubies the flagged floor on which the Capuchin knelt. Michel knelt
beside him, and watched him as he prayed with simple fervor. A
flame-colored pane, whose reflection fell upon his shaven head, made it
appear luminous and, as it were, aflame. The young painter was seized
with respect and enthusiastic admiration as he looked upon that noble,
strong and ingenuous face, which humbled itself in all sincerity in
prayer; and he, too, moved to the depths of his heart, prayed for his
country, his family and himself, with a simple faith and candor which he
had not known since his childhood.
XXIII
THE DESTATORE
"May I venture to ask you where we are going, uncle?" queried Michel,
when they had taken a dark and narrow path which led among the old
olive-trees on the mountain.
"Certainly," replied Fra Angelo; "we are going to call upon the last
real brigand in Sicily."
"There are some left then?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account