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It would be no marriage if Lucia had not Marzio's consent." "I wish there were no laws," grumbled the young man. "How do you come to know so much about marriage, Don Paolo?" "It is my profession. Come along; we will talk to Marzio." "What can we say to him? You do not suppose I will go and beg to be taken back?" "You must be forgiving "
The expression of his face was thoughtful, and the deep, heavily-ringed eyes were like Marzio's, but the forehead was broader, and the breadth ascended higher in the skull, which was clearly defined by the short, closely-cropped hair and the smooth tonsure at the back.
"He will talk a little, he will use some big words, and then it will be finished. You see, it is not a great thing, after all. Take courage, Maria Luisa, it will be a matter of half an hour." "Heaven grant it may be only that!" murmured Marzio's wife, turning up her eyes, and rising from her chair.
Marzio's heart still beat desperately as he went back to the hole and carefully reclosed the trap-door, dragging the heavy safe to its position over the ring. Trembling violently, he sat down upon his stool and wiped the cold perspiration from his forehead. Then, as he laid the figure upon the cushion, he glanced uneasily behind him and at the corner.
He could never get rid of the sensation; it would haunt him and oppress him for the rest of his life, and he should have no peace. How could it, if it were not a real thing? Even the priests said that the spirits of dead men did not come back to earth; how much more impossible must it be in Marzio's view, since he denied that man had a soul.
It went against the grain of his nature to take Gianbattista back, although he had discharged him hastily in the anger of the moment. He turned away and glanced at the bench. There were the young man's tools, the hammer as he had left it, the piece of work on the leathern pad. The old impulse of foresight for the future acted in Marzio's mind. He could never find such another workman.
"Well, well, my heart, perhaps you are right," he said softly, putting his arm round her. "No, you do not believe it," she answered. "For you, I will believe in anything, in everything even in Sor Marzio's devotions," he said, pressing her to his side. "Only you see, darling, he was talking in such a way a few moments before that it seemed impossible "
Paolo might not come that evening, but at least Maria Luisa and Lucia would speak of him, and it would be a comfort to hear his name spoken aloud. Marzio's step quickened with the thought, and in another moment he was at the door. To his surprise it was opened before he could ring, and old Assunta came forward with her wrinkled fingers raised to her lips. "Hist! hist!" she whispered.
The Cardinal has ordered another crucifix, which he desires should be Marzio's masterpiece silver, of course, and large. It must be altogether the finest thing he has ever made, when it is finished." "I daresay he will be very much pleased," said Maria Luisa, smiling comfortably.
The workshop was pervaded by a smell of wax and pitch, mingled with the curious indefinable odour exhaled from steel tools in constant use, and supplemented by the fumes of Marzio's pipe.
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