Part 68 (2/2)
”The devil has often mocked us in saint's disguise,” he said slowly. ”I tell the porter here every night to keep the gates well locked against him,--but this time it was no use; he has entered in. And now we shall have great work to get him out!”
Varillo resting his head on one arm, studied him curiously.
”You must have lived a strange life in the world!” he said. ”That is if you were ever in the world at all. Were you?”
”Oh yes, I was in the world,” replied Ambrosio calmly. ”I was in the midst of men and women who pa.s.sed their whole lives in acts of cruelty and treachery to one another. I never met a man who was honest; I never saw a woman who was true! I wondered where G.o.d was that He permitted such vile beings to live and take His name in vain. He seemed lost and gone,--I could not find Him!”
”Ah!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Florian languidly. ”And did yon discover Him here? In this monastery?”
”No--He is not here, for we are all dead men,” said Ambrosio. ”And G.o.d is the G.o.d of the living, not the G.o.d of the dead! Shall I tell you where I found him?” And he advanced a step or two, raising one hand warningly as though he were entrusted with some message of doom--”I found Him in sin! I tried to live a life of truth in a world of lies, but the lies were too strong for me,--they pulled me down! I fell--into a black pit of crime--reckless, determined, conscious wickedness,--and so found G.o.d--in my punishment!”
He clasped his hands together with an expression of strange ecstasy.
”Down into the darkness!” he said. ”Down through long vistas of shadow and blackness you go, glad and exultant, delighting in evil, and thinking 'G.o.d sees me not!' And then suddenly at the end, a sword of fire cuts the darkness asunder,--and the majesty of the Divine Law breaks your soul on the wheel!”
He looked steadfastly at Varillo.
”So you will find,--so you must find, if you ever go down into the darkness.”
”Ay, if I ever go,” said Florian gently. ”But I shall not.”
”No?--then perhaps you are there already?” said Ambrosio smiling, and playing with his rosary. ”For those who say they will never sin have generally sinned!”
Varillo held the same kind look of compa.s.sion in his eyes. He was fond of telling his fellow-artists that he had a ”plastic” face,--and this quality served him well just now. He might have been a hero and martyr, from the peaceful and patient expression of his features, and he so impressed by his manner a lay-brother who presently entered to give him his evening meal, that he succeeded in getting rid of Ambrosio altogether.
”You are sure you are strong enough to be left without an attendant?”
asked the lay-brother solicitously, quite captivated by the gentleness of his patient. ”There is a special evening service to-night in the chapel, and Ambrosio should be there to play the organ--for he plays well--but this duty had been given to Fra Filippo--”
”Nay, but let Ambrosio fulfil his usual task,” said Varillo considerately. ”I am much better--much stronger,--and as my good friend Monsignor Gherardi desires me to be in Rome to-morrow, and to stay with him till I am quite restored to health, I must try to rest as quietly as I can till my hour of departure.”
”You must be a great man to have Domenico Gherardi for a friend!” said the lay-brother wistfully.
Here Ambrosio suddenly burst into a loud laugh.
”You are right! He is a great man!--one of the greatest in Rome, or for that matter in the world! And he means to be yet greater!” And with that he turned on his heel and left the cell abruptly.
Varillo, languidly sipping the wine that had been brought to him with his food, looked after him with a pitying smile.
”Poor soul!” he said gently.
”He was famous once,” said the lay-brother, lowering his voice as he spoke. ”One of the most famous sculptors in Europe. But something went wrong with his life, and he came here. It is difficult to make him understand orders, or obey them, but the Superior allows him to remain on account of his great skill in music. On that point at least he is sane.”
”Indeed!” said Varillo indifferently. He was beginning to weary of the conversation, and wished to be alone. ”It is well for him that he is useful to you in some regard. And now, my friend, will you leave me to rest awhile? If it be possible I shall try to sleep now till morning.”
”One of us will come to you at daybreak,” said the lay-brother. ”You are still very weak--you will need a.s.sistance to dress. Your clothes are here at the foot of the bed. I hope you will sleep well.”
”Thank you!” said Varillo, conveying an almost tearful look of grat.i.tude into his eyes--”You are very good to me! G.o.d bless you!”
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