CHAPTER XII. THE PETITION
We must return to the sculptor's domicile, where two days had elapsedafter the arrest of Manlio, nor had Attilio who was gone in search ofhim, as yet appeared, so that the family were reduced to the greatestanxiety.
"What can they be doing with your good father?" repeated constantly theweeping mother to her daughter. "He has never mixed with any one whoseprinciples would compromise him, although a Liberal. He hates thepriests, I know, and they deserve to be hated for their vices, but hehas never talked about it to any one but me."
Clelia shed no tears, but her grief at her father's detention was almostdeeper than that of her mother, and at last, saddened by these plaints,she said, with energy, "Weep no more, mother, tears are of no avail; wemust act We must discover where my father is concealed, and, as MonnaAurelia has advised, we must endeavor to procure his release. Besides,Attilio is in search of him, and I know he will not desist until he hashelped him and us, if he have not already done so."
A knock interrupted Clelia's consolatory words. She ran to the door, andopening it, admitted a neighbor, whose name has been mentioned, MonnaAurelia, and old and tried friend.
"Good day," said she, as she entered the sitting-room with a cheerfulcountenance.
"Good day," answered Silvia, with a faint smile, wiping her eyes.
"I bring you something, neighbor; our friend Cassio, whom I consultedabout your husband's affairs, has drawn up this petition on stampedpaper, supplicating the cardinal minister to set Manlio at liberty.He says you must sign it, and had better present it in person to hisEminence."
Silvia took the paper, and looked at it doubtfully. She felt a strongaversion to this proposition. Could she throw herself at the feet of aperson whom she despised to implore his mercy? Yet perhaps her husband'slife was at stake; he might even now be suffering insults, privations,even torture. This thought struck a chill to the heart of the wife, and,rising, she said decidedly, "I will go with it."
Aurelia offered to accompany her, and in less than half an hour thethree women were on the road to the palace.
At nine o'clock that same morning, as it happened, the CardinalProcopio, Minister of State, had been informed by the questor of theQuirinal of Manlio's escape.
Great was the fury of the prelate at the unwelcome news, and hecommanded the immediate arrest and confinement of the directors,officers on guard, dragoons, and of all, in fact, who had been in chargeof the prison on the previous night.
Dispatching the questor with this order, he summoned Gianni to hispresence.
"Why, in the devil's name, was that accursed sculptor confined inthe Quirinal, instead of being sent to the Castle of St. Angelo?" heinquired.
"Your Eminence," replied Gianni, conceitedly, "should have intrustedsuch important affairs to me, and not to a set of idiots and rascals whoare open to corruption."
"Dost thou come here to annoy me by reflections, sirrah?" blustered thepriest. "Search in that turnip head of thine for means to bring the girlto me, or the palace cellars shall hear thee squeak thy self-praise tothe tune of the cord or the pincers."
Gianni, knowing that these fearful threats were not vain ones, andthat, incredible as it may appear to outsiders, tortures too horribleto describe daily take place in the Rome of the present day, meeklysubmitted to the storm. With downcast head, the mutilated wretch--for hewas one of those maimed from their youth to sing falsettos in the choirof St. Peter--pondered how to act.
"Lift up thine eyes, knave, if thou darest, and tell me whether or no,after causing me to spend such pains and money in this attempt, thouhast the hope to succeed?"
Tremblingly Gianni raised his eyes to his master's face as hearticulated with difficulty the words, "I hope to succeed."
But just as he spoke, to his considerable relief, a bell rang,announcing the arrival of a visitor. 'A servant in the Cardinal's colorsentered, and inquired if his Eminence would be pleased to see threewomen who wished to present a petition.
The Cardinal, waving his dismissal to the still agitated Gianni, gavea nod of assent, and assumed an unctuous expression, as the three womenwere ushered into his presence.
Rule of the Monk; Or, Rome in the Nineteenth Century Page 13
