United States or Saint Kitts and Nevis ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
They talked of other matters for a little while; then Arthur rose. "I must go, Padre; the students will be waiting for me." The haggard look came back to Montanelli's face. "Already? You had almost charmed away my black mood. Well, good-bye." "Good-bye. I will be sure to come to-morrow." "Try to come early, so that I may have time to see you alone. Father Cardi will be here.
"Stand bark a little, friends," Montanelli said, turning to the crowd; "I want to speak to him." The people fell slowly back, whispering to each other, and the Gadfly, sitting motionless, with teeth clenched and eyes on the ground, felt the gentle touch of Montanelli's hand upon his shoulder. "You have had some great trouble. Can I do anything to help you?" The Gadfly shook his head in silence.
He shook the hair angrily back from his eyes and set his mouth in a smile. Montanelli looked up from his papers. "You can wait in the hall," he said to the guards. "May it please Your Eminence," began the sergeant, in a lowered voice and with evident nervousness, "the colonel thinks that this prisoner is dangerous and that it would be better " A sudden flash came into Montanelli's eyes.
This kind of morbid 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 sleeplessness and headaches." "Very well," Montanelli interrupted, as if tired of the subject; "I will start by the early coach to-morrow morning."
What have I done that you should think of me that way? What right have you As if I wanted to be revenged on you! Can't you see that I only want to save you? Will you never understand that I love you?" He caught hold of Montanelli's hands and covered them with burning kisses and tears. "Padre, come away with us! What have you to do with this dead world of priests and idols?
As he slipped his arm round the Gadfly to lift him, he suddenly felt the damp, cold fingers close over his wrist like a vice. "Give me your hand quick just a moment," the Gadfly whispered. "Oh, what difference does it make to you? Only one minute!" He sank down, hiding his face on Montanelli's arm, and quivering from head to foot. "Drink a little water," Montanelli said after a moment.
"What does he expect a man to be with half a dozen bullets in him?" the lieutenant whispered contemptuously; and the doctor whispered back. "I think the sight of the blood has upset him." The Governor put his hand firmly on Montanelli's arm. "Your Eminence you had better not look at him any longer. Will you allow the chaplain to escort you home?" "Yes I will go."
Hearing that the Father Director was out, he went up to Montanelli's private study, placed the volume on its shelf, and was about to leave the room when the title of a book lying on the table caught his eyes. It was Dante's "De Monarchia." He began to read it and soon became so absorbed that when the door opened and shut he did not hear.
"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.
"Are you a pilgrim?" "I am a miserable sinner." The accidental similarity of Montanelli's question to the password came like a chance straw, that the Gadfly, in his desperation, caught at, answering automatically. He had begun to tremble under the soft pressure of the hand that seemed to burn upon his shoulder. The Cardinal bent down closer to him. "Perhaps you would care to speak to me alone?
Word Of The Day