ARTHUR went back to his lodgings1 feeling as though he had wings. He was absolutely, cloudlessly happy. At the meeting there had been hints of preparations for armed insurrection; and now Gemma was a comrade, and he loved her. They could work together, possibly even die together, for the Republic that was to be. The blossoming time of their hope was come, and the Padre would see it and believe.
The next morning, however, he awoke in a soberer mood and remembered that Gemma was going to Leghorn and the Padre to Rome. January, February, March--three long months to Easter! And if Gemma should fall under "Protestant" influences at home (in Arthur's vocabulary "Protestant" stood for "Philistine")------ No, Gemma would never learn to flirt2 and simper and captivate tourists and bald-headed shipowners, like the other English girls in Leghorn; she was made of different stuff. But she might be very miserable3; she was so young, so friendless, so utterly4 alone among all those wooden people. If only mother had lived----
In the evening he went to the seminary, where he found Montanelli entertaining the new Director and looking both tired and bored. Instead of lighting6 up, as usual, at the sight of Arthur, the Padre's face grew darker.
"This is the student I spoke7 to you about," he said, introducing Arthur stiffly. "I shall be much obliged if you will allow him to continue using the library."
Father Cardi, a benevolent-looking elderly priest, at once began talking to Arthur about the Sapienza, with an ease and familiarity which showed him to be well acquainted with college life. The conversation soon drifted into a discussion of university regulations, a burning question of that day. To Arthur's great delight, the new Director spoke strongly against the custom adopted by the university authorities of constantly worrying the students by senseless and vexatious restrictions8.
"I have had a good deal of experience in guiding young people," he said; "and I make it a rule never to prohibit anything without a good reason. There are very few young men who will give much trouble if proper consideration and respect for their personality are shown to them. But, of course, the most docile9 horse will kick if you are always jerking at the rein10."
Arthur opened his eyes wide; he had not expected to hear the students' cause pleaded by the new Director. Montanelli took no part in the discussion; its subject, apparently11, did not interest him. The expression of his face was so unutterably hopeless and weary that Father Cardi broke off suddenly.
"I am afraid I have overtired you, Canon. You must forgive my talkativeness; I am hot upon this subject and forget that others may grow weary of it."
"On the contrary, I was much interested." Montanelli was not given to stereotyped12 politeness, and his tone jarred uncomfortably upon Arthur.
When Father Cardi went to his own room Montanelli turned to Arthur with the intent and brooding look that his face had worn all the evening.
"Arthur, my dear boy," he began slowly; "I have something to tell you."
"He must have had bad news," flashed through Arthur's mind, as he looked anxiously at the haggard face. There was a long pause.
"How do you like the new Director?" Montanelli asked suddenly.
The question was so unexpected that, for a moment, Arthur was at a loss how to reply to it.
"I--I like him very much, I think--at least-- no, I am not quite sure that I do. But it is difficult to say, after seeing a person once."
Montanelli sat beating his hand gently on the arm of his chair; a habit with him when anxious or perplexed13.
"About this journey to Rome," he began again; "if you think there is any--well--if you wish it, Arthur, I will write and say I cannot go."
"Padre! But the Vatican------"
"The Vatican will find someone else. I can send apologies."
"But why? I can't understand."
Montanelli drew one hand across his forehead.
"I am anxious about you. Things keep coming into my head--and after all, there is no need for me to go------"
"But the bishopric----"
"Oh, Arthur! what shall it profit me if I gain a bishopric and lose----"
He broke off. Arthur had never seen him like this before, and was greatly troubled.
"I can't understand," he said. "Padre, if you could explain to me more--more definitely, what it is you think------"
"I think nothing; I am haunted with a horrible fear. Tell me, is there any special danger?"
"He has heard something," Arthur thought, remembering the whispers of a projected revolt. But the secret was not his to tell; and he merely answered: "What special danger should there be?"
"Don't question me--answer me!" Montanelli's voice was almost harsh in its eagerness. "Are you in danger? I don't want to know your secrets; only tell me that!"
"We are all in God's hands, Padre; anything may always happen. But I know of no reason why I should not be here alive and safe when you come back."
"When I come back----Listen, carino; I will leave it in your hands. You need give me no reason; only say to me, 'Stay,' and I will give up this journey. There will be no injury to anyone, and I shall feel you are safer if I have you beside me."
This kind of morbid14 fancifulness was so foreign to Montanelli's character that Arthur looked at him with grave anxiety.
"Padre, I am sure you are not well. Of course you must go to Rome, and try to have a thorough rest and get rid of your sleeplessness15 and headaches."
"Very well," Montanelli interrupted, as if tired of the subject; "I will start by the early coach to-morrow morning."
Arthur looked at him, wondering.
"You had something to tell me?" he said.
"No, no; nothing more--nothing of any consequence." There was a startled, almost terrified look in his face.
A few days after Montanelli's departure Arthur went to fetch a book from the seminary library, and met Father Cardi on the stairs.
"Ah, Mr. Burton!" exclaimed the Director; "the very person I wanted. Please come in and help me out of a difficulty."
He opened the study door, and Arthur followed him into the room with a foolish, secret sense of resentment16. It seemed hard to see this dear study, the Padre's own private sanctum, invaded by a stranger.
"I am a terrible book-worm," said the Director; "and my first act when I got here was to examine the library. It seems very interesting, but I do not understand the system by which it is catalogued."
"The catalogue is imperfect; many of the best books have been added to the collection lately."
"Can you spare half an hour to explain the arrangement to me?"
They went into the library, and Arthur carefully explained the catalogue. When he rose to take his hat, the Director interfered17, laughing.
"No, no! I can't have you rushing off in that way. It is Saturday, and quite time for you to leave off work till Monday morning. Stop and have supper with me, now I have kept you so late. I am quite alone, and shall be glad of company."
His manner was so bright and pleasant that Arthur felt at ease with him at once. After some desultory18 conversation, the Director inquired how long he had known Montanelli.
"For about seven years. He came back from China when I was twelve years old."
"Ah, yes! It was there that he gained his reputation as a missionary19 preacher. Have you been his pupil ever since?"
"He began teaching me a year later, about the time when I first confessed to him. Since I have been at the Sapienza he has still gone on helping20 me with anything I wanted to study that was not in the regular course. He has been very kind to me--you can hardly imagine how kind."
"I can well believe it; he is a man whom no one can fail to admire--a most noble and beautiful nature. I have met priests who were out in China with him; and they had no words high enough to praise his energy and courage under all hardships, and his unfailing devotion. You are fortunate to have had in your youth the help and guidance of such a man. I understood from him that you have lost both parents."
"Yes; my father died when I was a child, and my mother a year ago."
"Have you brothers and sisters?"
"No; I have step-brothers; but they were business men when I was in the nursery."
"You must have had a lonely childhood; perhaps you value Canon Montanelli's kindness the more for that. By the way, have you chosen a confessor for the time of his absence?"
"I thought of going to one of the fathers of Santa Caterina, if they have not too many penitents21."
"Will you confess to me?"
Arthur opened his eyes in wonder.
"Reverend Father, of course I--should be glad; only----"
"Only the Director of a theological seminary does not usually receive lay penitents? That is quite true. But I know Canon Montanelli takes a great interest in you, and I fancy he is a little anxious on your behalf--just as I should be if I were leaving a favourite pupil--and would like to know you were under the spiritual guidance of his colleague. And, to be quite frank with you, my son, I like you, and should be glad to give you any help I can."
"If you put it that way, of course I shall be very grateful for your guidance."
"Then you will come to me next month? That's right. And run in to see me, my lad, when you have time any evening."
. . . . .
Shortly before Easter Montanelli's appointment to the little see of Brisighella, in the Etruscan Apennines, was officially announced. He wrote to Arthur from Rome in a cheerful and tranquil23 spirit; evidently his depression was passing over. "You must come to see me every vacation," he wrote; "and I shall often be coming to Pisa; so I hope to see a good deal of you, if not so much as I should wish."
Dr. Warren had invited Arthur to spend the Easter holidays with him and his children, instead of in the dreary24, rat-ridden old place where Julia now reigned25 supreme26. Enclosed in the letter was a short note, scrawled27 in Gemma's childish, irregular handwriting, begging him to come if possible, "as I want to talk to you about something." Still more encouraging was the whispered communication passing around from student to student in the university; everyone was to be prepared for great things after Easter.
All this had put Arthur into a state of rapturous anticipation28, in which the wildest improbabilities hinted at among the students seemed to him natural and likely to be realized within the next two months.
He arranged to go home on Thursday in Passion week, and to spend the first days of the vacation there, that the pleasure of visiting the Warrens and the delight of seeing Gemma might not unfit him for the solemn religious meditation29 demanded by the Church from all her children at this season. He wrote to Gemma, promising30 to come on Easter Monday; and went up to his bedroom on Wednesday night with a soul at peace.
He knelt down before the crucifix. Father Cardi had promised to receive him in the morning; and for this, his last confession31 before the Easter communion, he must prepare himself by long and earnest prayer. Kneeling with clasped hands and bent32 head, he looked back over the month, and reckoned up the miniature sins of impatience33, carelessness, hastiness of temper, which had left their faint, small spots upon the whiteness of his soul. Beyond these he could find nothing; in this month he had been too happy to sin much. He crossed himself, and, rising, began to undress.
As he unfastened his shirt a scrap34 of paper slipped from it and fluttered to the floor. It was Gemma's letter, which he had worn all day upon his neck. He picked it up, unfolded it, and kissed the dear scribble35; then began folding the paper up again, with a dim consciousness of having done something very ridiculous, when he noticed on the back of the sheet a postscript36 which he had not read before. "Be sure and come as soon as possible," it ran, "for I want you to meet Bolla. He has been staying here, and we have read together every day."
The hot colour went up to Arthur's forehead as he read.
Always Bolla! What was he doing in Leghorn again? And why should Gemma want to read with him? Had he bewitched her with his smuggling37? It had been quite easy to see at the meeting in January that he was in love with her; that was why he had been so earnest over his propaganda. And now he was close to her--reading with her every day.
Arthur suddenly threw the letter aside and knelt down again before the crucifix. And this was the soul that was preparing for absolution, for the Easter sacrament--the soul at peace with God and itself and all the world! A soul capable of sordid38 jealousies39 and suspicions; of selfish animosities and ungenerous hatred--and against a comrade! He covered his face with both hands in bitter humiliation40. Only five minutes ago he had been dreaming of martyrdom; and now he had been guilty of a mean and petty thought like this!
When he entered the seminary chapel41 on Thursday morning he found Father Cardi alone. After repeating the Confiteor, he plunged42 at once into the subject of his last night's backsliding.
"My father, I accuse myself of the sins of jealousy43 and anger, and of unworthy thoughts against one who has done me no wrong."
Farther Cardi knew quite well with what kind of penitent22 he had to deal. He only said softly:
"You have not told me all, my son."
"Father, the man against whom I have thought an unchristian thought is one whom I am especially bound to love and honour."
"One to whom you are bound by ties of blood?"
"By a still closer tie."
"By what tie, my son?"
"By that of comradeship."
"Comradeship in what?"
"In a great and holy work."
A little pause.
"And your anger against this--comrade, your jealousy of him, was called forth44 by his success in that work being greater than yours?"
"I--yes, partly. I envied him his experience-- his usefulness. And then--I thought--I feared-- that he would take from me the heart of the girl I--love."
"And this girl that you love, is she a daughter of the Holy Church?"
"No; she is a Protestant."
"A heretic?"
Arthur clasped his hands in great distress45. "Yes, a heretic," he repeated. "We were brought up together; our mothers were friends--and I --envied him, because I saw that he loves her, too, and because--because----"
"My son," said Father Cardi, speaking after a moment's silence, slowly and gravely, "you have still not told me all; there is more than this upon your soul."
"Father, I----" He faltered46 and broke off again.
The priest waited silently.
"I envied him because the society--the Young Italy--that I belong to------"
"Yes?"
"Intrusted him with a work that I had hoped --would be given to me, that I had thought myself --specially adapted for."
"What work?"
"The taking in of books--political books--from the steamers that bring them--and finding a hiding place for them--in the town------"
"And this work was given by the party to your rival?"
"To Bolla--and I envied him."
"And he gave you no cause for this feeling? You do not accuse him of having neglected the mission intrusted to him?"
"No, father; he has worked bravely and devotedly47; he is a true patriot48 and has deserved nothing but love and respect from me."
Father Cardi pondered.
"My son, if there is within you a new light, a dream of some great work to be accomplished49 for your fellow-men, a hope that shall lighten the burdens of the weary and oppressed, take heed50 how you deal with the most precious blessing51 of God. All good things are of His giving; and of His giving is the new birth. If you have found the way of sacrifice, the way that leads to peace; if you have joined with loving comrades to bring deliverance to them that weep and mourn in secret; then see to it that your soul be free from envy and passion and your heart as an altar where the sacred fire burns eternally. Remember that this is a high and holy thing, and that the heart which would receive it must be purified from every selfish thought. This vocation52 is as the vocation of a priest; it is not for the love of a woman, nor for the moment of a fleeting53 passion; it is FOR GOD AND THE PEOPLE; it is NOW AND FOREVER."
"Ah!" Arthur started and clasped his hands; he had almost burst out sobbing54 at the motto. "Father, you give us the sanction of the Church! Christ is on our side----"
"My son," the priest answered solemnly, "Christ drove the moneychangers out of the Temple, for His House shall be called a House of Prayer, and they had made it a den5 of thieves."
After a long silence, Arthur whispered tremulously:
"And Italy shall be His Temple when they are driven out----"
He stopped; and the soft answer came back:
"'The earth and the fulness thereof are mine, saith the Lord.'"
亚瑟走回住处，感觉像是长了翅膀。他真是高兴极了，心里没有一丝愁云。在那次会上，有人暗示准备进行武装暴动。
现在琼玛已经成了同志，而且他也爱她。为了那个将要实现的共和国，他们可以一起工作，甚至可能死在一起。实现希望的时机已经到来，Padre将会看到它，并且相信它。
可是第二天早晨，一觉醒来以后清醒许多。他想起了琼玛要去莱亨，Padre要去罗马。一月、二月、三月——要过三个月才到复活节！如果琼玛在家中受到“新教徒”的影响（在亚瑟的词汇中，“新教徒”就是“腓力斯人”［腓力斯人是指古代地中海东岸的腓力斯国居民。《圣经》把他们描绘成伪善、狭隘、缺乏教养的人。在西方文化中，腓力斯人被用来指自私的伪君子。］的意思）——不会的，琼玛永远也学不会卖弄风情，引诱游客和秃头的船主，就像里窝那其他的英国女孩那样。但是她的日子也许非常难过。她是那么年轻，没有朋友，完全是孤苦伶仃地生活在那些木头人中间。如果母亲还活着——
他在傍晚去了神学院，并在那里见到蒙泰尼里正在招待新院长，看上去他感到疲惫不堪，百无聊赖。Padre没有像往常那样露出喜色，他的表情变得更加阴郁。
“这就是我给你讲起的学生，”他说，态度生硬地介绍亚瑟，“如果您容许他继续使用图书馆，我会不胜感激。”
卡尔迪神父是位年长的教士，长得慈眉善目。他随即就开始跟亚瑟谈起了萨宾查大学。他谈吐轻松自如，看得出来他非常熟悉大学生活。他们很快转而讨论起大学校规，这在当时是一个热门话题。新院长强烈反对大学当局采取种种限制性的措施，认为这些措施毫无意义，而且令人恼火，搞得学生们不得安宁。对此亚瑟感到极为高兴。
“我在引导年轻人方面有着丰富的经验，”他说，“而且我有一条原则，没有充足的理由永远都不要禁止什么。如果对他们表示适当的重视，并且尊重他们的人格，那么很少会有学生惹麻烦。但是，当然了，如果你总是扯紧缰绳，那么最温顺的马也会踢人的。”
亚瑟瞪大眼睛，没有想到这位新院长会为学生辩解。蒙泰尼里没有插话，他对这个话题显然不感兴趣。他的脸上露出难以言喻的绝望和厌烦，所以卡尔迪神父突然中断了谈话。
“恐怕我已经使您过于劳累了，神父。您得原谅我这么侃侃而谈。我非常热衷于这个话题，忘掉了别人对它也许会兴趣索然。”
“正好相反，我很感兴趣。”蒙泰尼里并不习惯这种约定俗成的客套，他的语调在亚瑟听来很不舒服。
当卡尔迪神父走回自己的房间以后，蒙泰尼里转向亚瑟。
整个晚上，他的脸上都挂着焦急和忧虑的表情。
“亚瑟，我亲爱的孩子，”他缓慢地说道，“我有些话要告诉你。”
“他一定是获悉了什么坏消息。”亚瑟焦急不安地望着那张憔悴的面孔，他的心中闪过这个念头。很长的时间，他俩都没有说话。
“你认为新院长怎么样？”蒙泰尼里突然问道。
这个问题来得有些突然，亚瑟一下子竟然不知如何回答。
“我——我很喜欢他，我认为——至少——不，我并不十分清楚我喜欢他。但是见了一次面很难说出什么来。”
蒙泰尼里坐了下来，轻轻地敲打着椅子的扶手。每当他焦急不安或者疑惑不解时，他就有这个习惯。
“关于罗马之行，”他再次开口说道，“如果你认为有什么——呃——如果你希望我不去的话，我可以写信，说我不能去。”
“Padre！但是梵蒂冈——”
“梵蒂冈可以另外找个人。我可以写信表示歉意。”
“可是为什么呢？我不明白。”
蒙泰尼里用手拂了一下前额。
“我是担心你。我的脑子老是想这想那——毕竟，我没有什么必要去——”
“可是主教的职位——”
“噢，亚瑟！主教职位又有什么益处，如果我失去了——”
他停了下来。亚瑟以前从没见过他这样，所以他心慌意乱。
“我不明白，”他说，“Padre，如果你能够更加——更加明确地对我解释你的想法——”
“我什么也不想，我为一种恐怖感所缠绕。告诉我，有什么特别的危险吗？”
“他是听到了什么。”亚瑟想起了关于准备举行起义的种种谣传，但是他不能泄漏这个秘密。于是他只是反问了一句：“有什么特别的危险呢？”
“别问我——回答我的问题！”情急之下，蒙泰尼里的声音有些粗暴。“你有危险吗？我并不想知道你的秘密，我只要你回答这个问题！”
“我们的命运都掌握在上帝的手里，Padre。什么事情都可能发生。但是我不知道有什么理由，在您回来的时候，我不应在这里平安无事地活着。”
“在我回来的时候——听着，亲爱的。这事我让你来决定。你不必跟我讲什么理由，只要跟我说一声‘留下’，那么我就放弃这次行程。这不会伤害谁，而且我也会觉得有我在你的身边，你就更加平安无事。”
这种病态的胡思乱想与蒙泰尼里的性格毫不相符，所以亚瑟怀着非常焦虑的心情望着他。
“Padre，您肯定是不舒服。您当然得去罗马，争取彻底休息一下，治好您的失眠和头痛。”
“很好。”蒙泰尼里打断了他的话，仿佛对这个话题已经感到厌倦。“我明天一早乘驿车动身。”
亚瑟望着他，心里很纳闷。
“您有什么要告诉我吗？”他说。
“没有，没有。没有什么——没有什么要紧的事情。”他的脸上露出了一种惊愕，几乎是恐惧的表情。
蒙泰尼里走后几天，亚瑟到神学院的图书馆去取一本书。
在上楼梯时，他遇到了卡尔迪神父。
“啊，伯顿先生！”院长大声说道。“我正想见你呢。请进来帮我解决一个难题。”
他打开书房的门，亚瑟跟着他走进屋子，心中暗自涌上一股无名的怨恨。看到Padre至爱的私人书房被一个陌生人占用，他心里感到不大对劲。
“我是嗜书如命的人。”院长说道，“我到了这里以后，所做的第一件事就是查看图书馆。这个图书馆很有意思，只是我不明白图书是怎么分类的。”
“分类的方法不尽完善，近来又增加了不少善本书。”
“你能花上半个小时给我解释一下编目的方法吗？”
他们走进图书馆，亚瑟仔细地解释了图书的分类。当他起身拿帽子时，院长却笑着拦住了他。
“不，不！我不能让你这样匆忙走开。今儿是星期六，时间多着呢，功课可以留到星期一嘛。既然我已经耽搁了你这么长的时间，索性就陪我吃顿饭吧。我一个人颇觉无聊，要是能有你做伴我会不胜荣幸。”
他的言谈举止开朗而又怡人，亚瑟随即就觉得和他在一起没有了拘束。他们海阔天空地聊了一会儿以后，院长问他认识蒙泰尼里有多长时间了。
“大约有七年了。在我十二岁那年，他从中国回来了。”
“啊，对了！他曾是一名传教士，他在那里出了名。自那以后，你就是他的学生吗？”
“他是在一年以后开始教导我的，大约就在那时我初次向他忏悔。在我进入萨宾查大学以后，他还继续辅导我学习——我想学而正课又学不到的东西。他对我非常和蔼可亲——您想象不出他对我是多么和蔼可亲。”
“这我非常相信。没有谁不对此表示钦服——他品格高尚，性情温和。我遇见过和他同去中国的一些传教士，对他身处困境所表现出来的毅力、勇气，以及矢志不渝的虔诚，他们都称赞不已。你在年轻的时候，幸运的是有这样的人帮助和引导你。我从他那里得知你已经失去了双亲。”
“是的。我父亲在我小的时候就死了，我的母亲是去年过世的。”
“你有兄弟姐妹吗？”
“没有。我倒是有两个同父异母的哥哥，可是我还在襁褓之中时，他们就已从商了。”
“你的童年一定很孤独，也许就是因为这个原因，你才会更加珍视蒙泰尼里神父的慈爱。顺便说一下，在他不在的这段时间里，你已经选定了忏悔神父吗？”
“我想过要去找圣·卡特琳娜的一位神父，如果他们那里忏悔的人不太多的话。”
“你愿意向我忏悔吗？”
亚瑟惊讶地睁大眼睛。
“尊敬的神父，我当然——应该感到高兴，只是——”
“只是一位神学院的院长通常并不接受世俗的忏悔人。这一点也不假。但是我知道蒙泰尼里神父对你非常关注，而且在我看来他对你有点放心不下——如果我丢下一位心爱的学生，我也会一样感到放心不下——他会乐意见到你接受他的一位同事给予你以精神上的引导。而且坦率地跟你说，我的孩子，我喜欢你，我愿意尽力帮助你。”
“如果您这样说的话，能够接受您的引导我当然感激不尽。”
“那么你下个月来好吗？就这么说定了。晚上有时间的话，我的孩子，你就过来看我一下。”
复活节之前不久，蒙泰尼里被正式任命为布里西盖拉教区的主教，布里西盖拉是在伊特鲁里亚地区的亚平宁山区。他怀着愉快而平静的心情，从罗马给亚瑟写来了信。他的忧郁之情显然已经荡然无存。“每个假期你都一定要来看我，”他在信上写道，“我也会经常去比萨。即使我不能像我所希望的那样常常见到你，我也希望多见你几次。”
华伦医生已经邀请亚瑟上他家去，和他及孩子们一起欢度复活节，从而不必回到那个沉闷不堪、老鼠横行的豪华旧宅，现在朱丽亚已在那里主宰一切。信里附寄了一张便条，琼玛用幼稚而不规则的书法恳求他尽量去，“因为我想和你谈点事情”。更加让人感到鼓舞的是，大学里的学生相互串连，每个人都在准备复活节以后将有大的举动。
所有这些都让亚瑟处在一种喜不自禁的期待之中。在这种情况下，学生中传播的那种最不切合实际的空想，在他看来都是自然而然的事情，很有可能在两个月以后就会实现。
他安排在受难周的星期四回家，放假的前几天准备就在那里过。这样拜访华伦一家的快乐和见到琼玛的喜悦就不会影响他参加庄严的宗教默念仪式，教会要求所有教徒在这个季节参加默念仪式。他给琼玛写了回信，答应在复活节星期一到她家去。所以他在星期三夜晚怀着一颗肃穆的心灵走进卧室。
他在十字架前跪了下来。卡尔迪神父已经答应在第二天早晨接待他，而且因为这是他在复活节圣餐前的最后一次忏悔，所以他必须长久而又认真地祈祷，以使自己作好准备。他跪在那里，双手合掌，脑袋低垂。他回顾了过去一个月里的所作所为，历数急躁、粗心、急性子所犯下的轻微罪过，那些已经在他纯洁的心灵里留下了淡淡的细小污点。除此之外，他没有发现什么。在这个月里，他实在是太高兴了，所以没有时间犯下太多的罪过。他在胸前画了一个十字，然后站起来开始脱衣服。
正在他解开衬衣纽扣时，一张纸条从里面飘了出来，落在地上。这是琼玛写来的信，他把它塞在脖子里已有一整天。
他把它捡了起来，把它展开，吻着那些倍感亲切的潦草字迹。
然后他又把那张纸折叠起来，模模糊糊地觉得自己做了某件非常可笑的事情，这时他注意到信纸的背后有几句附言，他在先前没有读到。“务必尽快到来，”上面写道，“因为我想让你见见波拉。他一直住在这里，我们每天都在一起读书。”
在他读着这几句话时，一股热血涌上了亚瑟的前额。
总是波拉！他又在莱亨做些什么？为什么琼玛想要和他一起读书？他就凭着走私把琼玛给迷住了吗？在一月份的那次会议上，很明显就能看出他已经爱上了她；因此他才如此热心从事宣传工作。现在他就在她的跟前——每天都和她在一起读书。
亚瑟突然把信扔到了一边，再次跪在十字架前。这就是准备请求基督赦罪的灵魂，准备接受复活节的圣餐——那颗要与上帝和其本身以及世界和平相处的灵魂！这颗灵魂竟能生出这等卑鄙的妒恨和猜忌、自私的恶意和狭隘的仇恨——
而且对方竟是一个同志！他羞愧难当，不禁用双手捂住脸。只是在五分钟以前，他还梦想着能够成为一名烈士。现在他却为这么一个卑鄙、龌龊的念头而深感愧疚。
当他在星期四上午走进神学院的小教堂时，他看见卡尔迪神父一个人在那里。他背诵了一遍忏悔祷文，随即就讲起了前天晚上所犯的罪过。
“我的神父，我指控自己犯下妒忌和仇恨的罪过，我对一个于我没有过失的人起了不洁的念头。”
卡尔迪神父十分清楚，知道他在应付一个什么样的忏悔者。他只是轻声说道：“你还没有告诉我事情的前前后后，我的孩子。”
“神父，那个我对之起了非基督教念头的人是我应该热爱和尊敬的人。”
“一个跟你有血源关系的人吗？”
“比血源关系更加密切。”
“什么样的关系呢？”
“志同道合的关系。”
“什么方面志同道合？”
“一桩伟大而又神圣的工作。”
短暂的停顿。
“你对这位——同志的愤恨，你对他的忌妒，是因为他在这桩工作中比你取得更大的成功而引起的吗？”
“我——是的，这是部分原因。我妒忌他的经验——他的才干。还有——我想——我怕他会从我那里夺去我——爱的那位姑娘的心。”
“那么这位你爱的姑娘，她是圣教中的人吗？”
“不是，她是一位新教徒。”
“一位异教徒吗？”
亚瑟紧握双手，非常焦虑不安。“是的，一位异教徒。”他重复说道，“我们是一起长大的，我们的母亲是朋友。我——妒忌他，因为我看见了他也爱她，因为——因为——”
“我的孩子，”停顿片刻以后，卡尔迪神父说道，声音缓慢而又庄重，“你还没有把一切全都告诉我呢。你的灵魂之上远非只有这些东西。”
“神父，我——”他支吾着，又停了下来。
“我妒忌他，因为我们那个组织——青年意大利党——我是这个组织的成员——”
“唔？”
“把一项我曾希望接受的工作分配给了他——这项工作本来有望交给我的，因为我特别适合这项工作。”
“什么工作？”
“运进书籍——政治书籍——从运进这些书籍的轮船取来——并为它们找到一个隐藏地点——是在城里——”
“党把这项工作交给你的竞争对手了吗？”
“交给了波拉——我妒忌他。”
“他没有什么引起这种感情的原因吗？你并不责备他对交给他的任务疏忽大意吗？”
“不，神父。他工作起来非常勇敢，而且也很忠诚。他是一位真正的爱国者，我只该热爱并且尊敬他。”
卡尔迪神父陷入了沉思。
“我的孩子，如果你的心中燃起一线新的光明，一个为你的同胞完成某种伟大的工作的梦想，一种为减轻劳苦大众负担的希望，这样你就要留意上帝赐予你的最宝贵恩惠。所有美好的东西都是他的赐予，只有他才会赐予新生。如果你已经发现了牺牲的道路，发现了那条通向和平的道路，如果你已经结识了至亲至爱的同志，准备解救那些在暗中哭泣和悲痛的人们，那么你就务必要使自己的心灵免受妒忌和激情的侵扰，要使自己的心灵成为一个圣坛，让圣火在那里永远燃烧。记住有一个高尚而又神圣的事业，接受这一事业的心灵必须纯洁得不受任何自私的杂念影响。这种天职也是教士的天职。它不是为了一个女人的爱情，也不是为了转瞬即逝的片刻儿女私情，这是为了上帝和人民，它是始终不渝的。”
“啊！”亚瑟吓了一跳，紧握着双手。听到这句誓言他几乎激动得热泪盈眶。“神父，你是以教会的名义拥护我们的事业啊！基督站在我们的一边——”
“我的孩子，”那位教士神情庄重地说，“基督曾把金钱兑换者赶出了神庙，因为他的圣地应该叫作祈祷的圣殿，可是他们却把它变成了贼窝。”
沉默了好长一段时间以后，亚瑟颤巍巍地小声说道：“赶走他们以后，意大利就会成为上帝的圣殿——”
他停了下来，那个柔和的声音就响了起来：“主说：‘大地和大地上的全部财富都是属于我的。’”
收听单词发音 |
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lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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flirt
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| v.调情，挑逗，调戏；n.调情者，卖俏者 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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restrictions
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| 约束( restriction的名词复数 )； 管制； 制约因素； 带限制性的条件（或规则） | |
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docile
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| adj.驯服的，易控制的，容易教的 | |
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rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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stereotyped
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| adj.(指形象、思想、人物等)模式化的 | |
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perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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morbid
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| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
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sleeplessness
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| n.失眠，警觉 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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desultory
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| adj.散漫的，无方法的 | |
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missionary
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| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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penitents
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| n.后悔者( penitent的名词复数 )；忏悔者 | |
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penitent
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| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
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tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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reigned
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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scrawled
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| 乱涂，潦草地写( scrawl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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scribble
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| v.潦草地书写，乱写，滥写；n.潦草的写法，潦草写成的东西，杂文 | |
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postscript
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| n.附言，又及；(正文后的)补充说明 | |
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smuggling
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| n.走私 | |
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sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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jealousies
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| n.妒忌( jealousy的名词复数 )；妒羡 | |
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humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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devotedly
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| 专心地； 恩爱地； 忠实地； 一心一意地 | |
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patriot
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| n.爱国者，爱国主义者 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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51
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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vocation
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| n.职业，行业 | |
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fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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