"Well, well, you two will be always friends, until one of you become prudent. Ever in fault, and relying on me to repair it! You give me more trouble than all the affairs of state!" continued he, with an expression of grave importance.
Attilio proffered a few more excuses, promises, and compliments, and took his leave, with a parting injunction from his uncle _to be prudent_!
CHAPTER XIX.
The signor count formed the resolution to make use of the father provincial to cut the knot of these perplexities; whether he would have thought of this, had it not been suggested by Attilio, it is impossible to determine, inasmuch as he would never have acknowledged this to be the case. It was important that one of his family, his nephew, should not be obliged to yield in an open controversy; it was a point essential to the reputation of his power, which he had so much at heart. The satisfaction which his nephew might himself take of his adversary would be a remedy worse than the disease. Should he order him to leave his castle, when obedience would seem like flying from the field of battle?
Legal force could have no power over the capuchin; the clergy were entirely exempt from secular jurisdiction. All that he could attempt against such an adversary was to endeavour to have him removed and the power to do this rested with the father provincial.
Now the count and the father provincial were old acquaintances; they saw each other rarely, but always with great demonstrations of friendship, and reiterated offers of service.
When all was matured in his mind, the count invited the father provincial to a dinner, where he found a company of choice guests; n.o.blemen, who, by their deportment, their native boldness, and lordly disdain, impressed those around them with the idea of their superiority and power. There were also present some clients, who, attached to the house by hereditary devotion, and the service of a life, sat at their lord"s table, in a spirit of implicit submission, "devouring his discourse" and his dinner with unqualified and equal approbation.
At table, the count led the conversation to Madrid; he spoke of the court, the count-duke, the ministers, the family of the governor; of the bull-fights, which he could well describe, having seen them from a distinguished place; of the escurial, of which he could speak in its most minute details, because a page of the count-duke had conducted him into every nook of it. For some time all the company were attentive to him alone; then they divided into separate parties. He continued for a while to relate a number of anecdotes, as in confidence, to the father provincial, who was seated near him. But suddenly he gave a turn to the conversation, and spoke of Cardinal Barberini, who was a capuchin, and brother to the reigning pope, Urban VIII. As they left the table, the count invited the father provincial to go with him into another apartment.
The n.o.ble lord gave a seat to the reverend father, and taking one himself, said, "Considering the friendship that exists between us, I thought I was authorised to speak to your reverence of an affair equally interesting to us both, and which had best be concluded between us without going farther, which might--and I will tell you frankly what it is, as I am certain we shall have the same opinion on the subject. Tell me, in your convent of Pescarenico, is there not a Father Christopher of ***?"
The father provincial bowed a.s.sent.
"I pray your reverence to tell me, frankly, as a friend,--this man--this father--I have no personal acquaintance with him, "tis true; I know many fervent, prudent, humble capuchins, who are worth their weight in gold; I have been the friend of the order from infancy; but in a numerous family there is always some individual----And I have reason to think that Friar Christopher is a man--a little fond of quarrelling--who has not all the prudence he might have: I imagine he has caused your reverence much anxiety."
"I perceive there is some intrigue," thought the father provincial; "it is my fault; I knew that this holy man should have been sent from pulpit to pulpit, and not have been suffered to remain six months in a convent in the country.--Oh," said he, aloud, "I am truly sorry that your excellency has conceived such an opinion of Father Christopher; for I know that his conduct in the convent is exemplary, and that he is esteemed by every body."
"I understand very well; your reverence ought----However, I would as a friend inform you of a matter which it is necessary you should know.
This Father Christopher has taken under his protection a young man of that country, one of whom your reverence must have heard; him who recently escaped from the hands of justice, on the terrible day of San Martin--Lorenzo Tramaglino!"
"I had not heard of this," said the father provincial; "but your excellency knows that it is the duty of our order to seek those who have gone astray, for the purpose of leading them back."
"That is true; but I thought it best to give you this information, because, if ever his holiness--the intelligence of it may have been sent to Rome."
"I am much obliged to your excellency for the information. However, I am certain, that if the affair is enquired into, it will be found that Father Christopher has had no connection with this man but for the purpose of doing him good. I know the father well."
"Your reverence knows, then, better than I, what he was in the world, and the pranks of his youth."
"It is the glory of our habit, signor count, that whatever a man may have been in the world, once clothed with that, he is quite another person; and since the Father Christopher has belonged to our order----"
"I believe it from the bottom of my heart, I believe it; but sometimes--as the proverb says--The habit does not make the monk."
The proverb was not much to the purpose, but the count had cited it, in place of another which occurred to him,--"The wolf may change his skin, but he does not become a dog."
"I have certain information," pursued he.
"If your excellency knows positively that the father has committed a fault (we are all liable to err), I wish you would inform me of it. I am his superior--unworthily, "tis true; but it is my duty to watch over, and, if necessary, correct----"
"Besides the circ.u.mstance of his granting protection to the man I have mentioned, this same Father Christopher has undertaken to contend--but we can settle it together with my nephew, Don Roderick."
"Oh, I am sorry for that, I am sorry for that, truly."
"My nephew is young, rash, and not accustomed to provocation."
"It becomes my duty to obtain the best information on the subject. Your excellency, with your experience of the world, knows better than I, that we are all frail, liable to error--some one way, some another; and if our Father Christopher has failed----"
"But these are things which had better be settled between ourselves; to spread them abroad would only increase the evil. These trifles are often the cause of numerous embarra.s.sments and difficulties, which might have been prevented by some decisive act in the commencement. That is now our business; my nephew is young; the monk, from what I hear, has still the spirit, the inclinations of a young man; but we, who are advanced in years, (too true, is it not, reverend father?) must have prudence to act for the young, and apply a remedy to their follies. Happily there is yet time; we must remove the fire from the straw. An individual who does not do well in one place may in another; your reverence might see to his being removed, might find a suitable station for the friar at a sufficient distance--all may be easily arranged--or rather, there"s no harm done."
The father provincial had expected this conclusion from the commencement of the conversation. "I perceive," thought he, "where you would lead me; when a poor friar gives one of you the least umbrage, the superior must make him march, right or wrong."
When the count had finished, the provincial said aloud, "I understand what the signor count would say; but before taking a step----"
"It is a step, and it is not a step, very reverend father: it is only a natural event, such as might happen in the ordinary course of affairs; and if we do not do it quickly, I foresee a deluge of disorders, a mountain of grievances. If we do not put a stop to the affair between ourselves, it is not possible it should remain a secret. And then it is not only my nephew--you raise a wasp"s nest, very reverend father. We are a powerful house--we have adherents."
The father bowed in a.s.sent. The count proceeded. "You understand me; they are all people who have blood in their veins, and who in the world--count as something. They are proud of their honour; the affair will become theirs, and then---- Even those who are the friends of peace---- It would be a grief of heart to me to be obliged---- I, who have always had such a friendship for the capuchins! The fathers, for their ministry to be efficient, should be in harmony with all men--no misunderstandings: besides, they have relations abroad--and these affairs of punctilio extend, ramify---- I, too, have a certain dignity to maintain---- His excellency----my n.o.ble colleagues---- It becomes a party matter----"
"It is true," said the provincial, "that Father Christopher is a preacher; I had already the intention--I have even been solicited to do it--but under these circ.u.mstances, and just at this time, it might be considered as a punishment; and to punish without being well acquainted----"
"But it is not a punishment; it is a prudent precaution, an honest means of preventing evils that might----I have explained myself."
"The signor count and myself understand each other very well; but the facts being those which your excellency has adduced, it is impossible but that they should in part be known through the country: there are every where firebrands, or idle spirits, who find pleasure in the contests of the monks and the n.o.bility, and love to make malignant observations. Each one has his own dignity to preserve; and I, in the character of a superior, have an express duty--the honour of the habit--it is not my own affair--it is a deposit which--and since the signor your nephew is so irritated, as your excellency has said, he might take it as a satisfaction offered to him, and--I do not say boast of it, but----"
"You jest, reverend father, surely; my nephew is a cavalier of consideration in the world, as he should be; but in his relations with me, he is but a child, and will do neither more nor less than I prescribe to him. And, moreover, he shall never know it. The thing is done between ourselves; there is no necessity for rendering an account to him. Let not that give you any uneasiness; I am accustomed to keep silence on important subjects. As to the idle talk of others, what can be said? It is a very common thing to see a friar leave one place to go and preach at another."
"However, in order to prevent malicious observations, it would be necessary, on this occasion, that the nephew of your excellency should give some demonstration of friendship, of deference,--not for us, but for the order."
"Certainly, certainly, that is but right; it is not necessary, however; I know that the capuchins are highly esteemed by my nephew, as well as by our whole family. But, in this case, something more signal is very proper. Leave it to me, very reverend father: I will give such orders to my nephew--that is to say, it shall be prudently suggested to him, that he may not suspect what has pa.s.sed between us, because we need not apply a plaster where there is no wound. As to that which we have agreed on, the sooner it is done the better; and if you had a place at some distance--to remove every occasion----"
"They want a preacher at Rimini; and perhaps without this motive I should have thought----"
"That is very opportune, very opportune. And when?"
"Since the thing is to be done, it shall be quickly."
"Certainly, certainly; better to-day than to-morrow. And," continued he, rising, "if I or my adherents can render any service to the good father capuchins----"
"We have often experienced the kindness of the house," said the father provincial, also rising, and following his vanquisher to the door of the apartment.
"We have extinguished a spark," said the count,--"a spark, very reverend father, which might have excited a great conflagration. Between good friends, things are easily arranged."
They then entered the next apartment, and mixed with the rest of the company.
The count obtained his end: Friar Christopher was made to travel on foot from Pescarenico to Rimini, as we shall see.
One evening a capuchin from Milan arrived at Pescarenico, with a packet for the superior: it was an order for Father Christopher to repair to Rimini for the purpose of preaching the Lent sermons. The letter contained instructions to the superior, to insinuate to the friar, that he should give up every attention to any business he might have on hand in the country he must leave, and that he should not maintain any correspondence there. The friar, who was the bearer of the order, was to be the companion of his journey. The superior said nothing that night, but in the morning he sent for Father Christopher, showed him the order, and told him to take his basket, staff, and girdle, and with the friar, whom he presented to him, commence his journey.
Imagine what a blow this was for our good father. Renzo, Lucy, Agnes, pa.s.sed rapidly over his mind, and he thought, "Great G.o.d! what will these unfortunate people do, when I am no longer here?" but raising his eyes to heaven, he placed his hope and confidence there. He crossed his hands on his breast, and bowed his head in token of obedience; he then went to his cell, took his basket, his staff, and his breviary, and after having bid farewell to his brethren, and obtained the benediction of his superior, took, with his companion, the route prescribed.
We have said that Don Roderick, more than ever determined on the accomplishment of his infamous enterprise, had resolved to seek the a.s.sistance of a powerful man. We cannot give his name, nor even hazard a conjecture with regard to it; this is the more astonishing, inasmuch as we find notices of this personage in several histories of the time. The ident.i.ty of the facts does not leave a doubt of the ident.i.ty of the man; but there is evidently an extreme care to avoid the mention of his name.