MONSIGNOR MONTANELLI arrived in Florence in the first week of October. His visit caused a little flutter of excitement throughout the town. He was a famous preacher and a representative of the reformed Papacy; and people looked eagerly to him for an exposition of the "new doctrine," the gospel of love and reconciliation1 which was to cure the sorrows of Italy. The nomination2 of Cardinal3 Gizzi to the Roman State Secretaryship in place of the universally detested4 Lambruschini had raised the public enthusiasm to its highest pitch; and Montanelli was just the man who could most easily sustain it. The irreproachable5 strictness of his life was a phenomenon sufficiently6 rare among the high dignitaries of the Roman Church to attract the attention of people accustomed to regard blackmailing7, peculation8, and disreputable intrigues9 as almost invariable adjuncts to the career of a prelate. Moreover, his talent as a preacher was really great; and with his beautiful voice and magnetic personality, he would in any time and place have made his mark.
Grassini, as usual, strained every nerve to get the newly arrived celebrity10 to his house; but Montanelli was no easy game to catch. To all invitations he replied with the same courteous11 but positive refusal, saying that his health was bad and his time fully12 occupied, and that he had neither strength nor leisure for going into society.
"What omnivorous13 creatures those Grassinis are!" Martini said contemptuously to Gemma as they crossed the Signoria square one bright, cold Sunday morning. "Did you notice the way Grassini bowed when the Cardinal's carriage drove up? It's all one to them who a man is, so long as he's talked about. I never saw such lion-hunters in my life. Only last August it was the Gadfly; now it's Montanelli. I hope His Eminence14 feels flattered at the attention; a precious lot of adventurers have shared it with him."
They had been hearing Montanelli preach in the Cathedral; and the great building had been so thronged15 with eager listeners that Martini, fearing a return of Gemma's troublesome headaches, had persuaded her to come away before the Mass was over. The sunny morning, the first after a week of rain, offered him an excuse for suggesting a walk among the garden slopes by San Niccolo.
"No," she answered; "I should like a walk if you have time; but not to the hills. Let us keep along the Lung'Arno; Montanelli will pass on his way back from church and I am like Grassini-- I want to see the notability."
"But you have just seen him."
"Not close. There was such a crush in the Cathedral, and his back was turned to us when the carriage passed. If we keep near to the bridge we shall be sure to see him well--he is staying on the Lung'Arno, you know."
"But what has given you such a sudden fancy to see Montanelli? You never used to care about famous preachers."
"It is not famous preachers; it is the man himself; I want to see how much he has changed since I saw him last."
"When was that?"
"Two days after Arthur's death."
Martini glanced at her anxiously. They had come out on to the Lung'Arno, and she was staring absently across the water, with a look on her face that he hated to see.
"Gemma, dear," he said after a moment; "are you going to let that miserable16 business haunt you all your life? We have all made mistakes when we were seventeen."
"We have not all killed our dearest friend when we were seventeen," she answered wearily; and, leaning her arm on the stone balustrade of the bridge, looked down into the river. Martini held his tongue; he was almost afraid to speak to her when this mood was on her.
"I never look down at water without remembering," she said, slowly raising her eyes to his; then with a nervous little shiver: "Let us walk on a bit, Cesare; it is chilly17 for standing18."
They crossed the bridge in silence and walked on along the river-side. After a few minutes she spoke19 again.
"What a beautiful voice that man has! There is something about it that I have never heard in any other human voice. I believe it is the secret of half his influence."
"It is a wonderful voice," Martini assented20, catching21 at a subject of conversation which might lead her away from the dreadful memory called up by the river, "and he is, apart from his voice, about the finest preacher I have ever heard. But I believe the secret of his influence lies deeper than that. It is the way his life stands out from that of almost all the other prelates. I don't know whether you could lay your hand on one other high dignitary in all the Italian Church--except the Pope himself--whose reputation is so utterly22 spotless. I remember, when I was in the Romagna last year, passing through his diocese and seeing those fierce mountaineers waiting in the rain to get a glimpse of him or touch his dress. He is venerated23 there almost as a saint; and that means a good deal among the Romagnols, who generally hate everything that wears a cassock. I remarked to one of the old peasants,--as typical a smuggler24 as ever I saw in my life,--that the people seemed very much devoted25 to their bishop26, and he said: 'We don't love bishops27, they are liars28; we love Monsignor Montanelli. Nobody has ever known him to tell a lie or do an unjust thing.'"
"I wonder," Gemma said, half to herself, "if he knows the people think that about him."
"Why shouldn't he know it? Do you think it is not true?"
"I know it is not true."
"How do you know it?"
"Because he told me so."
"HE told you? Montanelli? Gemma, what do you mean?"
She pushed the hair back from her forehead and turned towards him. They were standing still again, he leaning on the balustrade and she slowly drawing lines on the pavement with the point of her umbrella.
"Cesare, you and I have been friends for all these years, and I have never told you what really happened about Arthur."
"There is no need to tell me, dear," he broke in hastily; "I know all about it already."
"Giovanni told you?"
"Yes, when he was dying. He told me about it one night when I was sitting up with him. He said---- Gemma, dear, I had better tell you the truth, now we have begun talking about it--he said that you were always brooding over that wretched story, and he begged me to be as good a friend to you as I could and try to keep you from thinking of it. And I have tried to, dear, though I may not have succeeded--I have, indeed."
"I know you have," she answered softly, raising her eyes for a moment; "I should have been badly off without your friendship. But--Giovanni did not tell you about Monsignor Montanelli, then?"
"No, I didn't know that he had anything to do with it. What he told me was about--all that affair with the spy, and about----"
"About my striking Arthur and his drowning himself. Well, I will tell you about Montanelli."
They turned back towards the bridge over which the Cardinal's carriage would have to pass. Gemma looked out steadily29 across the water as she spoke.
"In those days Montanelli was a canon; he was Director of the Theological Seminary at Pisa, and used to give Arthur lessons in philosophy and read with him after he went up to the Sapienza. They were perfectly30 devoted to each other; more like two lovers than teacher and pupil. Arthur almost worshipped the ground that Montanelli walked on, and I remember his once telling me that if he lost his 'Padre'--he always used to call Montanelli so --he should go and drown himself. Well, then you know what happened about the spy. The next day, my father and the Burtons--Arthur's step-brothers, most detestable people--spent the whole day dragging the Darsena basin for the body; and I sat in my room alone and thought of what I had done----"
She paused a moment, and went on again:
"Late in the evening my father came into my room and said: 'Gemma, child, come downstairs; there's a man I want you to see.' And when we went down there was one of the students belonging to the group sitting in the consulting room, all white and shaking; and he told us about Giovanni's second letter coming from the prison to say that they had heard from the jailer about Cardi, and that Arthur had been tricked in the confessional. I remember the student saying to me: 'It is at least some consolation31 that we know he was innocent' My father held my hands and tried to comfort me; he did not know then about the blow. Then I went back to my room and sat there all night alone. In the morning my father went out again with the Burtons to see the harbour dragged. They had some hope of finding the body there."
"It was never found, was it?"
"No; it must have got washed out to sea; but they thought there was a chance. I was alone in my room and the servant came up to say that a 'reverendissimo padre' had called and she had told him my father was at the docks and he had gone away. I knew it must be Montanelli; so I ran out at the back door and caught him up at the garden gate. When I said: 'Canon Montanelli, I want to speak to you,' he just stopped and waited silently for me to speak. Oh, Cesare, if you had seen his face--it haunted me for months afterwards! I said: 'I am Dr. Warren's daughter, and I have come to tell you that it is I who have killed Arthur.' I told him everything, and he stood and listened, like a figure cut in stone, till I had finished; then he said: 'Set your heart at rest, my child; it is I that am a murderer, not you. I deceived him and he found it out.' And with that he turned and went out at the gate without another word."
"And then?"
"I don't know what happened to him after that; I heard the same evening that he had fallen down in the street in a kind of fit and had been carried into a house near the docks; but that is all I know. My father did everything he could for me; when I told him about it he threw up his practice and took me away to England at once, so that I should never hear anything that could remind me. He was afraid I should end in the water, too; and indeed I believe I was near it at one time. But then, you know, when we found out that my father had cancer I was obliged to come to myself--there was no one else to nurse him. And after he died I was left with the little ones on my hands until my elder brother was able to give them a home. Then there was Giovanni. Do you know, when he came to England we were almost afraid to meet each other with that frightful32 memory between us. He was so bitterly remorseful33 for his share in it all--that unhappy letter he wrote from prison. But I believe, really, it was our common trouble that drew us together."
Martini smiled and shook his head.
"It may have been so on your side," he said; "but Giovanni had made up his mind from the first time he ever saw you. I remember his coming back to Milan after that first visit to Leghorn and raving34 about you to me till I was perfectly sick of hearing of the English Gemma. I thought I should hate you. Ah! there it comes!"
The carriage crossed the bridge and drove up to a large house on the Lung'Arno. Montanelli was leaning back on the cushions as if too tired to care any longer for the enthusiastic crowd which had collected round the door to catch a glimpse of him. The inspired look that his face had worn in the Cathedral had faded quite away and the sunlight showed the lines of care and fatigue35. When he had alighted and passed, with the heavy, spiritless tread of weary and heart-sick old age, into the house, Gemma turned away and walked slowly to the bridge. Her face seemed for a moment to reflect the withered36, hopeless look of his. Martini walked beside her in silence.
"I have so often wondered," she began again after a little pause; "what he meant about the deception37. It has sometimes occurred to me----"
"Yes?"
"Well, it is very strange; there was the most extraordinary personal resemblance between them."
"Between whom?"
"Arthur and Montanelli. It was not only I who noticed it. And there was something mysterious in the relationship between the members of that household. Mrs. Burton, Arthur's mother, was one of the sweetest women I ever knew. Her face had the same spiritual look as Arthur's, and I believe they were alike in character, too. But she always seemed half frightened, like a detected criminal; and her step-son's wife used to treat her as no decent person treats a dog. And then Arthur himself was such a startling contrast to all those vulgar Burtons. Of course, when one is a child one takes everything for granted; but looking back on it afterwards I have often wondered whether Arthur was really a Burton."
"Possibly he found out something about his mother--that may easily have been the cause of his death, not the Cardi affair at all," Martini interposed, offering the only consolation he could think of at the moment. Gemma shook her head.
"If you could have seen his face after I struck him, Cesare, you would not think that. It may be all true about Montanelli--very likely it is-- but what I have done I have done."
They walked on a little way without speaking,
"My dear," Martini said at last; "if there were any way on earth to undo38 a thing that is once done, it would be worth while to brood over our old mistakes; but as it is, let the dead bury their dead. It is a terrible story, but at least the poor lad is out of it now, and luckier than some of those that are left--the ones that are in exile and in prison. You and I have them to think of, we have no right to eat out our hearts for the dead. Remember what your own Shelley says: 'The past is Death's, the future is thine own.' Take it, while it is still yours, and fix your mind, not on what you may have done long ago to hurt, but on what you can do now to help."
In his earnestness he had taken her hand. He dropped it suddenly and drew back at the sound of a soft, cold, drawling voice behind him.
"Monsignor Montan-n-nelli," murmured this languid voice, "is undoubtedly39 all you say, my dear doctor. In fact, he appears to be so much too good for this world that he ought to be politely escorted into the next. I am sure he would cause as great a sensation there as he has done here; there are p-p-probably many old-established ghosts who have never seen such a thing as an honest cardinal. And there is nothing that ghosts love as they do novelties----"
"How do you know that?" asked Dr. Riccardo's voice in a tone of ill-suppressed irritation40.
"From Holy Writ41, my dear sir. If the Gospel is to be trusted, even the most respectable of all Ghosts had a f-f-fancy for capricious alliances. Now, honesty and c-c-cardinals--that seems to me a somewhat capricious alliance, and rather an uncomfortable one, like shrimps42 and liquorice. Ah, Signor Martini, and Signora Bolla! Lovely weather after the rain, is it not? Have you been to hear the n-new Savonarola, too?"
Martini turned round sharply. The Gadfly, with a cigar in his mouth and a hot-house flower in his buttonhole, was holding out to him a slender, carefully-gloved hand. With the sunlight reflected in his immaculate boots and glancing back from the water on to his smiling face, he looked to Martini less lame43 and more conceited44 than usual. They were shaking hands, affably on the one side and rather sulkily on the other, when Riccardo hastily exclaimed:
"I am afraid Signora Bolla is not well!"
She was so pale that her face looked almost livid under the shadow of her bonnet45, and the ribbon at her throat fluttered perceptibly from the violent beating of the heart.
"I will go home," she said faintly.
A cab was called and Martini got in with her to see her safely home. As the Gadfly bent46 down to arrange her cloak, which was hanging over the wheel, he raised his eyes suddenly to her face, and Martini saw that she shrank away with a look of something like terror.
"Gemma, what is the matter with you?" he asked, in English, when they had started. "What did that scoundrel say to you?"
"Nothing, Cesare; it was no fault of his. I-- I--had a fright----"
"A fright?"
"Yes; I fancied----" She put one hand over her eyes, and he waited silently till she should recover her self-command. Her face was already regaining47 its natural colour.
"You are quite right," she said at last, turning to him and speaking in her usual voice; "it is worse than useless to look back at a horrible past. It plays tricks with one's nerves and makes one imagine all sorts of impossible things. We will NEVER talk about that subject again, Cesare, or I shall see fantastic likenesses to Arthur in every face I meet. It is a kind of hallucination, like a nightmare in broad daylight. Just now, when that odious48 little fop came up, I fancied it was Arthur."
蒙泰尼里大人在十月里的第一个星期到达佛罗伦萨。他的来访在全城引起一阵小小的骚动。他是一位著名的传道士，革新教廷的代表。人们热切地期望他会阐述“新教义”，阐述友爱与和解的福音，这个福音就能治愈意大利的苦难。红衣主教吉齐已被提名担任罗马圣院的书记长，以便接替万人痛恨的兰姆勃鲁契尼。这一举动已将公众的狂热煽到了最高点。
蒙泰尼里正是能够轻易维持这种狂热的合适人选。他那无可非议的严谨生活作风，在罗马教会的显赫人物中是个罕见的现象，因而吸引了人们的注意。人们习惯于把敲诈、贪污和为人不齿的私通看作是高级教士职业之恒定不变的附属品。
此外，作为一名传道士，他的才能确实了不起。加上他那美妙的声音和富有魅力的性格，无论何时何地，他都能做到人过留名。
格拉西尼如同往常一样费尽心机，想把新到的名人请到他的家里。但是蒙泰尼里可不会轻而易举地上钩。对于所有的邀请，他都一概谢绝，态度客气而又坚决。他借口他身体不好，抽不出时间，并说他既没有力气也没有闲心去社交场合走动。
一个晴朗而寒冷的星期天早晨，马尔蒂尼和琼玛走过西格诺里亚广场。“格拉西尼夫妇真是欲壑难填！”他厌恶地对她说道。“你注意到在红衣主教的马车开过时，格拉西尼鞠躬的姿态吗？他们不管是谁，只要他是别人谈论的对象。我这一辈子还没见过这样巴结名流的人。八月份是牛虻，现在又是蒙泰尼里。我希望红衣主教阁下受到如此瞩目会感到受宠若惊，竟然会有这么许多的宝贝投机分子趋炎附势。”
大教堂里已经挤满了热心的听众，他们已经听说蒙泰尼里正在那里布道。马尔蒂尼担心琼玛又会头疼，所以劝她在弥撒结束之前出去。这是一个晴朗的早晨，先前下了一个星期的雨，这样他就找到了一个借口，提议到圣尼科罗山旁边的花园散步。
“不，”她答道，“如果你有时间我还是愿意散步的，但是不要去山上。我们还是沿着阿诺河走走吧。蒙泰尼里将从大教堂经过这里，我也像格拉西尼一样——想要看看这位名人。”
“但是你刚才已经看见他了。”
“离得太远。大教堂里挤得水泄不通，而且在马车经过的时候，他是背对着我们。如果我们站在桥的附近，我们肯定就能清楚地看到他——你知道他就住在阿诺河边。”
“可是你怎么突发奇想，希望见见蒙泰尼里呢？你从来都不留意著名的传道士啊。”
“我并不留意传道士，我留意的是那个人。我想看看自从我上次见过他以后，他的变化有多大。”
“那是什么时候？”
“亚瑟死过两天以后。”
马尔蒂尼不安地看了她一眼。他们已经来到阿诺河边，她正茫然地凝视河的对岸。他不喜欢她脸上露出的表情。
“琼玛，亲爱的，”过了一会儿他说，“你难道要让那件不幸的往事纠缠你一辈子吗？我们在十七岁时全都犯过错误。”
“我们在十七岁时并非全都杀死过自己最亲爱的朋友。”
她有气无力地答道。她把胳膊支在小桥的石栏杆上，俯视河水。马尔蒂尼缄默不语。当她陷入这种心境时，他几乎有些害怕跟她说话。
“每当我俯视河水的时候，我总是会想起这段往事。”她说。她缓缓地抬起了头，望着他的眼睛。接着她神经质地哆嗦了一下。“我们再走一会儿吧，塞萨雷。站着不动有点冷。”
他们默默地过了桥，然后沿着河边往前走去。过了几分钟，她又开口说话。
“那人的嗓音真美！里面有种什么东西，我在别人的嗓音里从来没有听到过。他之所以有这么大的感染力，我相信一半的秘密就在这个上面。”
“是副好嗓子。”马尔蒂尼表示同意。河水勾起了她那不堪回首的回忆，他算是捕捉到了一个也许可以把她引开的话题。“撇开他的嗓子不谈，在我见过的传道士当中，他是最出色的一位。但是我相信他之所以有这么大的感染力，还有更深的秘密。那就是他的生活方式几乎与所有的高级教士不同，因而他就显得超凡脱俗。我不知道在整个意大利教会中，你是否可以找到另外一个显赫人物——除了教皇本人——享有如此白璧无瑕的名声。记得去年我在罗马尼阿时，经过他的教区，看见那些粗野的山民冒雨等着见他一面，或者摸一摸他的衣服。他在那里受到顶礼膜拜，他们几乎把他当成圣人一样。罗马尼阿人一向憎恨所有身穿黑色法衣的人，可是却把他看得很重。我曾对一位老农——生平见过的一个典型的私贩子——说人们好像非常忠于他们的主教，他说：‘我们并不热爱主教，他们全是骗子。我们热爱蒙泰尼里大人。没人见过他说过一句谎话，或者做过一件不公的事情。’”
琼玛半是自言自语地说：“我就纳闷他是否知道人们对他的这种看法。”
“他怎么就不该知道呢？你认为这种看法不对吗？”
“我知道是不对的。”
“你是怎么知道的？”
“因为他是这么告诉我的。”
“他告诉你的？蒙泰尼里？琼玛，你说的是什么意思？”
她把额前的头发向后掠去，然后转身对着他。他们又静静地站着，他靠在栏杆上，她则用雨伞的尖头在人行道上慢悠悠地画着线。
“塞萨雷，你我都是多年的朋友了，我从没跟你讲过有关亚瑟的真实情况。”
“用不着跟我讲了，亲爱的，”他匆忙插嘴说道，“我全都知道。”
“乔万尼告诉你的？”
“是的，在他临死的时候。有一天晚上我守在他的身边，他把这事告诉了我。他说——琼玛，既然我们谈起了这事，我最好还是跟你说真话吧——他说你总是沉湎于这件痛苦的往事，他恳求我尽力做你的好朋友，设法不让你想起这事。我已经尽了力，亲爱的，尽管我也许没有成功——我的确尽了力。”
“我知道的。”她轻声地答道，抬起眼睛望了一会儿。“没有你的友情，我的日子会很难过的。但是——乔万尼并没有跟你讲起蒙泰尼里大人，对吗？”
“没有，我并不知道他与这事有什么关系。他告诉我的是有关——那个暗探的事，有关——”
“有关我打了亚瑟和他投河自杀的事。呃，我就给你讲讲蒙泰尼里吧。”
他们转身走向主教马车将会经过的小桥。在讲话的时候，琼玛失神地望着河的对岸。
“那时蒙泰尼里还是一个神父，他是比萨神学院的院长。亚瑟进入萨宾查大学以后，他常给他讲解哲学，并和他一起读书。他们相互忠贞不贰，不像是一对师生，更像是一对情人。亚瑟几乎对蒙泰尼里崇拜得五体投地，我记得有一次他对我说，如果他失去他的‘Padre’——他总是这样称呼蒙泰尼里——他就会投河自杀的。呃，你知道其后就发生了暗探那事。第二天，我父亲和伯顿一家——亚瑟的同父异母兄弟，最可恶的人——花了一天时间在达赛纳港湾打捞尸体，我独自坐在屋里，前思后想我做了些什么——”
她顿了一会儿，然后接着讲了下去。
“天黑以后我父亲走进我的房间说：‘琼玛，孩子，下楼去吧。我想让你见个人。’我们走下楼去，见到那个团体里的一个学生。他坐在接待室里，脸色苍白，浑身发抖。他告诉我们乔万尼从狱中送出了第二封信，说他们从狱卒那里打听到了卡尔迪的情况，亚瑟是在忏悔时被骗了。我记得那位学生对我说：‘我们知道了他是无辜的，至少是个安慰吧。’我的父亲握住我的手，试图劝慰我。他并不知道我打了他。然后我回到了我房间，独自坐了一夜。我的父亲在早上又出了门，陪同伯顿一家到港口去看打捞的情况。他们还是希望能在那里找到尸体。”
“什么也没有找到？”
“没有找到，肯定是被冲到海上去了。但是他们还是抱着一线希望。我们自呆在我的房间里，女仆上来告诉我一位神父登门来访。她告诉他我的父亲去了码头，然后他就走了。我知道肯定是蒙泰尼里，所以我从后门跑了出去，并在花园的门口赶上了他。当时我说：‘蒙泰尼里神父，我想和你说句话。’他随即停下脚步，默默地等我说话。噢，塞萨雷，如果你想到了他的脸——此后的几个月里，它一直萦绕在我的心头！我说：‘我是华伦医生的女儿，我来告诉你是我杀死了亚瑟。’我把一切都告诉了他，他站在那里听着，就像是一个石头人。等我讲完后，他说：‘你就放宽心吧，我的孩子。我是凶手，不是你。我欺骗了他，他发现了。’说完就转过身去，一句话也不说就走出了大门。”
“然后呢？”
“我不知道在这以后他的情况。我在那天傍晚听说他昏倒在街上，被人送到码头附近的一户人家里。我只知道这些。我的父亲想方设法，为我做这做那。我把情况告诉他以后，他就歇了业，立即带我回到英国，这样我就听不到任何可能勾起我回忆的事情。他害怕我也会跳河自杀，我的确相信有一次我差一点就那么做了。但是你知道的，后来我就发现我的父亲得了癌症，这样我就得正视自己——没有别人服侍他。他死了以后，我就要照顾家中的小弟小妹，直到我的哥哥有了一个家，可以安顿他们。后来乔万尼去了。他为自己所做的事情追悔莫及——就是他从狱中写了那封不幸的信。但是我相信，真的，正是我们的共同苦恼把我们连在一起了。”
马尔蒂尼微微一笑，摇了摇头。
“你可以这么讲，”他说，“但是自从第一次见到你以后，乔万尼就拿定了主意。我记得他第一次去里窝那回来后，没完没了地谈起你。后来听到他提起那个英国女孩琼玛，我就感到腻味。我还以为我不会喜欢你的。啊！来了！”
马车通过了小桥，停在阿诺河边的一座大宅前。蒙泰尼里靠在垫子上，仿佛已经疲惫不堪，不再去管聚集在门前想要见上他一面的狂热群众。他在大教堂里露出的那种动人表情已经荡然无存，阳光照出了烦恼和疲劳的皱纹。他下了马车，然后走进了屋里。他显得心力交瘁，龙钟老态，迈着沉重而又无力的脚步。琼玛转过了身，慢慢地朝着小桥走去。有一段时间里，她的脸好像也露出他脸上的那种枯槁、绝望的表情。马尔蒂尼默默地走在她的身边。
“我时常觉得纳闷，”过了一会儿，她又开口说道，“他所说的欺骗是什么意思。有时我想——”
“想什么？”
“呃，很奇怪。他们俩长得那么相像。”
“哪两个人？”
“亚瑟和蒙泰尼里。不仅是我一个人注意到这一点，而且那一家人之间的关系有点神秘。伯顿夫人，亚瑟的母亲，在我见过的人当中，她是最温柔的一个人。和亚瑟一样，她的脸上有种圣洁的表情，而且我相信他们的性格也是一样的。但是她却总是显得有点害怕，就像一个被人发现的罪犯。前妻的儿媳把她不当人看，连一只狗都不如。另外亚瑟本人和伯顿家里那些俗不可耐的人简直有天壤之别。当然了，人小的时候认为一切都是顺理成章的。但是回头想想，我时常纳闷亚瑟是否真是伯顿家里的人。”
“可能他发现了他母亲的一些事情——也许这就是他的死因，跟卡尔迪一事没有什么关系。”马尔蒂尼插嘴说道，这会儿他只能说出这样安慰的话来。琼玛摇了摇头。
“如果你看见了我打了他后他脸上的表情，塞萨雷，你就不会那么想了。有关蒙泰尼里的事也许是真的——很可能是真的——但是我所做的事我已做了。”
他们又走了一小会儿，相互之间没有说话。
“我亲爱的，”马尔蒂尼最后说道，“如果世上还有什么办法，能够挽回已经做过的事情，那还值得我们反思从前犯下的错误，但是事实上并没有，人死不能复活。这是一件令人痛心的事情，但是至少那个可怜的小伙子已经解脱了，比起一些活下来的人——那些流亡和坐牢的人——倒是更幸运。你我还得想到他们，我们没有权利为了死者伤心欲绝。记住你们自己的雪莱说的话：‘过去属于死亡，未来属于自己。’抓住未来，趁它仍然属于你自己的时候。拿定主意，不要想着许久以前你应该做些什么，那样只会伤害自己；而要想着现在你能够做些什么，这样才能帮助自己。”
他在情急之下抓住了她的手。听到背后传来一个柔和、冷酷、拖沓的声音，他赶紧撒开手来，并且直往后缩。
“蒙泰尼、尼、尼里大人，”那个懒洋洋的声音喃喃地说道，“无疑正像你所说的那样，我亲爱的先生。对于这个世界来说，事实上他好像是太好了，所以应该把他礼送到另外一个世界去。我相信他会像在这里一样，在那里也会引起哄动的。许多老鬼可、可能从来没有见过这样一个东西，竟有一个诚实的主教。鬼可是喜爱新奇的东西——”
“你是怎么知道这个的？”马尔蒂尼强压怒火问道。
“是从《圣经》上知道的，我亲爱的先生。如果相信福音书，甚至连那些最体面的鬼都会想入非非，希望得到变幻莫测的组合。这不，诚实和红、红、红衣主教——在我看来可是一个变幻莫测的组合，而且还是一个令人难受的组合，就像虾子和甘草一样。啊，马尔蒂尼先生，波拉夫人！雨后的天气真好，对吗？你们也听了新－新萨伏纳罗拉［萨伏纳罗拉·季罗拉摩（１４５９—１４９８）是著名的佛罗伦萨传道士，因揭露教会和当局的不道德而被处死。］的布道吗？”
马尔蒂尼猛然转过身来。牛虻嘴里叼着雪茄，纽孔里插着刚买的鲜花。他朝他伸过一只细长的手，手上戴着手套。阳光从他那一尘不染的靴子反射出去，又从水上映到他那喜笑盈开的脸上。在马尔蒂尼看来，他不像平常那样一瘸一拐，而且也比平常自负。他们在握手时，一方和蔼可亲，一方怒形于色。这时里卡尔多焦急地喊道：“恐怕波拉夫人不大舒服！”
她脸色变得煞白，帽檐下面的阴影几乎呈青灰色。因为呼吸急促，系在喉部的帽带瑟瑟发抖。
“我要回家。”她虚弱地说道。
叫来一辆马车以后，马尔蒂尼随她一起坐在上面，护送她回家。就在牛虻弯腰拉起缠在车轮上的披风时，他突然抬起了眼睛注视着她的脸。马尔蒂尼看见她露出了惧色，身体直往后缩。
“琼玛，你怎么啦？”他们坐上马车开走以后，他用英语问道。“那个恶棍对你说了什么？”
“没说什么，塞萨雷。不是他的过错。我、我、吃了一惊——”
“吃了一惊？”
“对，我好像看见了——”她用一只手遮住了她的眼睛，他默不做声，等着她恢复自制。她的脸已经重新有了血色。
“你说得很对，”她转过身来，最后就像平常那样平静地说道，“追忆不堪回首的往事不但无益而且更糟。这会刺激人的神经，让人幻想各种子虚乌有的事情。我们再也不要谈起这个话题，塞萨雷，否则我就会觉得我所见的每个人都像亚瑟。这是一种幻觉，就像是在青天白日做起噩梦一样。就在刚才，在那个可恶的花花公子走上前来时，我竟以为是亚瑟。”
收听单词发音 |
1
reconciliation
|
|
| n.和解，和谐，一致 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
nomination
|
|
| n.提名，任命，提名权 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
cardinal
|
|
| n.(天主教的)红衣主教；adj.首要的，基本的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
detested
|
|
| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
irreproachable
|
|
| adj.不可指责的，无过失的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
sufficiently
|
|
| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
blackmailing
|
|
| 胁迫，尤指以透露他人不体面行为相威胁以勒索钱财( blackmail的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
peculation
|
|
| n.侵吞公款[公物] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
intrigues
|
|
| n.密谋策划( intrigue的名词复数 )；神秘气氛；引人入胜的复杂情节v.搞阴谋诡计( intrigue的第三人称单数 )；激起…的好奇心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
celebrity
|
|
| n.名人，名流；著名，名声，名望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
courteous
|
|
| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
omnivorous
|
|
| adj.杂食的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
eminence
|
|
| n.卓越，显赫；高地，高处；名家 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
thronged
|
|
| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
chilly
|
|
| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
spoke
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
assented
|
|
| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
catching
|
|
| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
venerated
|
|
| 敬重（某人或某事物），崇敬( venerate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
smuggler
|
|
| n.走私者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
devoted
|
|
| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
bishop
|
|
| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
bishops
|
|
| （基督教某些教派管辖大教区的）主教( bishop的名词复数 )； （国际象棋的）象 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
liars
|
|
| 说谎者( liar的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
steadily
|
|
| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
consolation
|
|
| n.安慰，慰问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
frightful
|
|
| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
remorseful
|
|
| adj.悔恨的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
raving
|
|
| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
fatigue
|
|
| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
withered
|
|
| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
deception
|
|
| n.欺骗，欺诈；骗局，诡计 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
undo
|
|
| vt.解开，松开；取消，撤销 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
undoubtedly
|
|
| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
irritation
|
|
| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
writ
|
|
| n.命令状，书面命令 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
shrimps
|
|
| n.虾，小虾( shrimp的名词复数 )；矮小的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
lame
|
|
| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
conceited
|
|
| adj.自负的，骄傲自满的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
bonnet
|
|
| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
regaining
|
|
| 复得( regain的现在分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
odious
|
|
| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |