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The blood rushed into Arthur's face. Bolla had betrayed him! Bolla, who had taken upon himself the solemn duties of an initiator Bolla, who had converted Gemma who was in love with her! He laid down the paper and stared at the floor. "I hope that little document has refreshed your memory?" hinted the colonel politely. Arthur shook his head.
To this last foothold he clung with feverish tenacity, spending several hours of each day in prayer and meditation; but his thoughts wandered more and more often to Bolla, and the prayers were growing terribly mechanical. His greatest comfort was the head warder of the prison. This was a little old man, fat and bald, who at first had tried his hardest to wear a severe expression.
Bolla was a sore subject with him; there had been a rivalry between them about some work which the committee of Young Italy had finally intrusted to Bolla, declaring Arthur too young and inexperienced. "I know him pretty well; and I like him very much. He has been staying in Leghorn." "I know; he went there in November " "Because of the steamers.
Why don't you answer? Are we all going to be let out?" A contemptuous grunt was the only reply. "Look here!" Arthur again took hold of the warder's arm, laughing. "It is no use for you to be cross to me, because I'm not going to get offended. I want to know about the others." "Which others?" growled Enrico, suddenly laying down the shirt he was folding. "Not Bolla, I suppose?"
"Then you will stay here till it is time to go to the barrier?" "Yes; I don't want to be seen in the street any more to-night. Have a cigar, Martini? I know Signora Bolla doesn't mind smoke." "I shan't be here to mind; I must go downstairs and help Katie with the dinner." When she had gone Martini got up and began to pace to and fro with his hands behind his back.
The Gadfly had reached the irritable stage of convalescence, and was inclined to give his devoted nurses a bad time. "W-what do you want to d-d-dose me with all sorts of horrors for now the pain is gone?" "Just because I don't want it to come back. You wouldn't like it if you collapsed when Signora Bolla is here and she had to give you opium."
"Yes; he was one of the unfortunate young men who were arrested in '33 you remember that sad affair? He was released in a few months; then, two or three years later, when there was a warrant out against him again, he escaped to England. The next we heard was that he was married there. It was a most romantic affair altogether, but poor Bolla always was romantic."
Evidently Bolla, too, must have been arrested. The first depositions were of the usual stereotyped character; then followed a short account of Bolla's connection with the society, of the dissemination of prohibited literature in Leghorn, and of the students' meetings. Next came "Among those who joined us was a young Englishman, Arthur Burton, who belongs to one of the rich shipowning families."
"What do you want me to do?" Arthur spoke in a hard, sullen voice, quite different from his natural tone. "I only want you to tell us frankly, in a straightforward and honourable manner, what you know of this society and its adherents. First of all, how long have you known Bolla?" "I never met him in my life. I know nothing whatever about him." "Really?
What's he doing now with Caesar Maruffi if he isn't after him for money?" Blake's amusement suddenly gave place to eagerness. "Maruffi!" he exclaimed. "What's this?" "Joe Poggi is blackmailing Caesar Maruffi out of the money to defend his friends. He was at di Marco's house an hour before Salvatore's arrest. I saw him with Garcia and Bolla and Cardoni more than once."
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