The Gadfly

by E. L. Voynich

  CHAPTER I.

  ONE evening in July, 1846, a few acquaintances met at ProfessorFabrizi's house in Florence to discuss plans for future political work.

  Several of them belonged to the Mazzinian party and would have beensatisfied with nothing less than a democratic Republic and a UnitedItaly. Others were Constitutional Monarchists and Liberals ofvarious shades. On one point, however, they were all agreed; that ofdissatisfaction with the Tuscan censorship; and the popular professorhad called the meeting in the hope that, on this one subject at least,the representatives of the dissentient parties would be able to getthrough an hour's discussion without quarrelling.

  Only a fortnight had elapsed since the famous amnesty which Pius IX. hadgranted, on his accession, to political offenders in the Papal States;but the wave of liberal enthusiasm caused by it was already spreadingover Italy. In Tuscany even the government appeared to have beenaffected by the astounding event. It had occurred to Fabrizi and a fewother leading Florentines that this was a propitious moment for a boldeffort to reform the press-laws.

  "Of course," the dramatist Lega had said, when the subject was firstbroached to him; "it would be impossible to start a newspaper till wecan get the press-law changed; we should not bring out the first number.But we may be able to run some pamphlets through the censorship already;and the sooner we begin the sooner we shall get the law changed."

  He was now explaining in Fabrizi's library his theory of the line whichshould be taken by liberal writers at the moment.

  "There is no doubt," interposed one of the company, a gray-hairedbarrister with a rather drawling manner of speech, "that in some way wemust take advantage of the moment. We shall not see such a favourableone again for bringing forward serious reforms. But I doubt thepamphlets doing any good. They will only irritate and frighten thegovernment instead of winning it over to our side, which is what wereally want to do. If once the authorities begin to think of us asdangerous agitators our chance of getting their help is gone."

  "Then what would you have us do?"

  "Petition."

  "To the Grand Duke?"

  "Yes; for an augmentation of the liberty of the press."

  A keen-looking, dark man sitting by the window turned his head roundwith a laugh.

  "You'll get a lot out of petitioning!" he said. "I should have thoughtthe result of the Renzi case was enough to cure anybody of going to workthat way."

  "My dear sir, I am as much grieved as you are that we did not succeed inpreventing the extradition of Renzi. But really--I do not wish to hurtthe sensibilities of anyone, but I cannot help thinking that our failurein that case was largely due to the impatience and vehemence of somepersons among our number. I should certainly hesitate----"

  "As every Piedmontese always does," the dark man interrupted sharply. "Idon't know where the vehemence and impatience lay, unless you found themin the strings of meek petitions we sent in. That may be vehemence forTuscany or Piedmont, but we should not call it particularly vehement inNaples."

  "Fortunately," remarked the Piedmontese, "Neapolitan vehemence ispeculiar to Naples."

  "There, there, gentlemen, that will do!" the professor put in."Neapolitan customs are very good things in their way and Piedmontesecustoms in theirs; but just now we are in Tuscany, and the Tuscan customis to stick to the matter in hand. Grassini votes for petitions andGalli against them. What do you think, Dr. Riccardo?"

  "I see no harm in petitions, and if Grassini gets one up I'll sign itwith all the pleasure in life. But I don't think mere petitioning andnothing else will accomplish much. Why can't we have both petitions andpamphlets?"

  "Simply because the pamphlets will put the government into a state ofmind in which it won't grant the petitions," said Grassini.

  "It won't do that anyhow." The Neapolitan rose and came across to thetable. "Gentlemen, you're on the wrong tack. Conciliating the governmentwill do no good. What we must do is to rouse the people."

  "That's easier said than done; how are you going to start?"

  "Fancy asking Galli that! Of course he'd start by knocking the censor onthe head."

  "No, indeed, I shouldn't," said Galli stoutly. "You always think ifa man comes from down south he must believe in no argument but coldsteel."

  "Well, what do you propose, then? Sh! Attention, gentlemen! Galli has aproposal to make."

  The whole company, which had broken up into little knots of twos andthrees, carrying on separate discussions, collected round the table tolisten. Galli raised his hands in expostulation.

  "No, gentlemen, it is not a proposal; it is merely a suggestion.It appears to me that there is a great practical danger in all thisrejoicing over the new Pope. People seem to think that, because he hasstruck out a new line and granted this amnesty, we have only to throwourselves--all of us, the whole of Italy--into his arms and he willcarry us to the promised land. Now, I am second to no one in admirationof the Pope's behaviour; the amnesty was a splendid action."

  "I am sure His Holiness ought to feel flattered----" Grassini begancontemptuously.

  "There, Grassini, do let the man speak!" Riccardo interrupted in histurn. "It's a most extraordinary thing that you two never can keep fromsparring like a cat and dog. Get on, Galli!"

  "What I wanted to say is this," continued the Neapolitan. "The HolyFather, undoubtedly, is acting with the best intentions; but how far hewill succeed in carrying his reforms is another question. Just now it'ssmooth enough and, of course, the reactionists all over Italy will liequiet for a month or two till the excitement about the amnesty blowsover; but they are not likely to let the power be taken out of theirhands without a fight, and my own belief is that before the winter ishalf over we shall have Jesuits and Gregorians and Sanfedists andall the rest of the crew about our ears, plotting and intriguing, andpoisoning off everybody they can't bribe."

  "That's likely enough."

  "Very well, then; shall we wait here, meekly sending in petitions, tillLambruschini and his pack have persuaded the Grand Duke to put us bodilyunder Jesuit rule, with perhaps a few Austrian hussars to patrol thestreets and keep us in order; or shall we forestall them and takeadvantage of their momentary discomfiture to strike the first blow?"

  "Tell us first what blow you propose?"

  "I would suggest that we start an organized propaganda and agitationagainst the Jesuits."

  "A pamphleteering declaration of war, in fact?"

  "Yes; exposing their intrigues, ferreting out their secrets, and callingupon the people to make common cause against them."

  "But there are no Jesuits here to expose."

  "Aren't there? Wait three months and see how many we shall have. It'llbe too late to keep them out then."

  "But really to rouse the town against the Jesuits one must speakplainly; and if you do that how will you evade the censorship?"

  "I wouldn't evade it; I would defy it."

  "You would print the pamphlets anonymously? That's all very well,but the fact is, we have all seen enough of the clandestine press toknow----"

  "I did not mean that. I would print the pamphlets openly, with our namesand addresses, and let them prosecute us if they dare."

  "The project is a perfectly mad one," Grassini exclaimed. "It is simplyputting one's head into the lion's mouth out of sheer wantonness."

  "Oh, you needn't be afraid!" Galli cut in sharply; "we shouldn't ask youto go to prison for our pamphlets."

  "Hold your tongue, Galli!" said Riccardo. "It's not a question of beingafraid; we're all as ready as you are to go to prison if there's anygood to be got by it, but it is childish to run into danger for nothing.For my part, I have an amendment to the proposal to suggest."

  "Well, what is it?"

  "I think we might contrive, with care, to fight the Jesuits withoutcoming into collision with the censorship."

  "I don't see how you are going to manage it."

  "I think that it is possible to clothe what one has to say in soroundabout a form that----"

 
"That the censorship won't understand it? And then you'll expect everypoor artisan and labourer to find out the meaning by the light ofthe ignorance and stupidity that are in him! That doesn't sound verypracticable."

  "Martini, what do you think?" asked the professor, turning to abroad-shouldered man with a great brown beard, who was sitting besidehim.

  "I think that I will reserve my opinion till I have more facts to goupon. It's a question of trying experiments and seeing what comes ofthem."

  "And you, Sacconi?"

  "I should like to hear what Signora Bolla has to say. Her suggestionsare always valuable."

  Everyone turned to the only woman in the room, who had been sitting onthe sofa, resting her chin on one hand and listening in silence to thediscussion. She had deep, serious black eyes, but as she raised them nowthere was an unmistakable gleam of amusement in them.

  "I am afraid," she said; "that I disagree with everybody."

  "You always do, and the worst of it is that you are always right,"Riccardo put in.

  "I think it is quite true that we must fight the Jesuits somehow; and ifwe can't do it with one weapon we must with another. But mere defianceis a feeble weapon and evasion a cumbersome one. As for petitioning,that is a child's toy."

  "I hope, signora," Grassini interposed, with a solemn face; "that youare not suggesting such methods as--assassination?"

  Martini tugged at his big moustache and Galli sniggered outright. Eventhe grave young woman could not repress a smile.

  "Believe me," she said, "that if I were ferocious enough to think ofsuch things I should not be childish enough to talk about them. Butthe deadliest weapon I know is ridicule. If you can once succeed inrendering the Jesuits ludicrous, in making people laugh at them andtheir claims, you have conquered them without bloodshed."

  "I believe you are right, as far as that goes," Fabrizi said; "but Idon't see how you are going to carry the thing through."

  "Why should we not be able to carry it through?" asked Martini. "Asatirical thing has a better chance of getting over the censorshipdifficulty than a serious one; and, if it must be cloaked, the averagereader is more likely to find out the double meaning of an apparentlysilly joke than of a scientific or economic treatise."

  "Then is your suggestion, signora, that we should issue satiricalpamphlets, or attempt to run a comic paper? That last, I am sure, thecensorship would never allow."

  "I don't mean exactly either. I believe a series of small satiricalleaflets, in verse or prose, to be sold cheap or distributed free aboutthe streets, would be very useful. If we could find a clever artistwho would enter into the spirit of the thing, we might have themillustrated."

  "It's a capital idea, if only one could carry it out; but if the thingis to be done at all it must be well done. We should want a first-classsatirist; and where are we to get him?"

  "You see," added Lega, "most of us are serious writers; and, withall respect to the company, I am afraid that a general attempt to behumorous would present the spectacle of an elephant trying to dance thetarantella."

  "I never suggested that we should all rush into work for which weare unfitted. My idea was that we should try to find a really giftedsatirist--there must be one to be got somewhere in Italy, surely--andoffer to provide the necessary funds. Of course we should have to knowsomething of the man and make sure that he would work on lines withwhich we could agree."

  "But where are you going to find him? I can count up the satiristsof any real talent on the fingers of one hand; and none of them areavailable. Giusti wouldn't accept; he is fully occupied as it is. Thereare one or two good men in Lombardy, but they write only in the Milanesedialect----"

  "And moreover," said Grassini, "the Tuscan people can be influenced inbetter ways than this. I am sure that it would be felt as, to say theleast, a want of political savoir faire if we were to treat this solemnquestion of civil and religious liberty as a subject for trifling.Florence is not a mere wilderness of factories and money-getting likeLondon, nor a haunt of idle luxury like Paris. It is a city with a greathistory------"

  "So was Athens," she interrupted, smiling; "but it was 'rather sluggishfrom its size and needed a gadfly to rouse it'----"

  Riccardo struck his hand upon the table. "Why, we never thought of theGadfly! The very man!"

  "Who is that?"

  "The Gadfly--Felice Rivarez. Don't you remember him? One of Muratori'sband that came down from the Apennines three years ago?"

  "Oh, you knew that set, didn't you? I remember your travelling with themwhen they went on to Paris."

  "Yes; I went as far as Leghorn to see Rivarez off for Marseilles. Hewouldn't stop in Tuscany; he said there was nothing left to do butlaugh, once the insurrection had failed, and so he had better go toParis. No doubt he agreed with Signor Grassini that Tuscany is the wrongplace to laugh in. But I am nearly sure he would come back if we askedhim, now that there is a chance of doing something in Italy."

  "What name did you say?"

  "Rivarez. He's a Brazilian, I think. At any rate, I know he has livedout there. He is one of the wittiest men I ever came across. Heavenknows we had nothing to be merry over, that week in Leghorn; it wasenough to break one's heart to look at poor Lambertini; but there wasno keeping one's countenance when Rivarez was in the room; it was oneperpetual fire of absurdities. He had a nasty sabre-cut across the face,too; I remember sewing it up. He's an odd creature; but I believe heand his nonsense kept some of those poor lads from breaking downaltogether."

  "Is that the man who writes political skits in the French papers underthe name of 'Le Taon'?"

  "Yes; short paragraphs mostly, and comic feuilletons. The smugglers upin the Apennines called him 'the Gadfly' because of his tongue; and hetook the nickname to sign his work with."

  "I know something about this gentleman," said Grassini, breaking in uponthe conversation in his slow and stately manner; "and I cannot say thatwhat I have heard is much to his credit. He undoubtedly possesses acertain showy, superficial cleverness, though I think his abilities havebeen exaggerated; and possibly he is not lacking in physical courage;but his reputation in Paris and Vienna is, I believe, very far fromspotless. He appears to be a gentleman of--a--a--many adventures andunknown antecedents. It is said that he was picked up out of charity byDuprez's expedition somewhere in the wilds of tropical South America,in a state of inconceivable savagery and degradation. I believe he hasnever satisfactorily explained how he came to be in such a condition. Asfor the rising in the Apennines, I fear it is no secret that persons ofall characters took part in that unfortunate affair. The men who wereexecuted in Bologna are known to have been nothing but commonmalefactors; and the character of many who escaped will hardly beardescription. Without doubt, SOME of the participators were men of highcharacter----"

  "Some of them were the intimate friends of several persons in thisroom!" Riccardo interrupted, with an angry ring in his voice. "It's allvery well to be particular and exclusive, Grassini; but these 'commonmalefactors' died for their belief, which is more than you or I havedone as yet."

  "And another time when people tell you the stale gossip of Paris,"added Galli, "you can tell them from me that they are mistaken aboutthe Duprez expedition. I know Duprez's adjutant, Martel, personally, andhave heard the whole story from him. It's true that they found Rivarezstranded out there. He had been taken prisoner in the war, fightingfor the Argentine Republic, and had escaped. He was wandering about thecountry in various disguises, trying to get back to Buenos Ayres. Butthe story of their taking him on out of charity is a pure fabrication.Their interpreter had fallen ill and been obliged to turn back; and notone of the Frenchmen could speak the native languages; so they offeredhim the post, and he spent the whole three years with them, exploringthe tributaries of the Amazon. Martel told me he believed they neverwould have got through the expedition at all if it had not been forRivarez."

  "Whatever he may be," said Fabrizi; "there must be something remarkableabout a man who could lay his 'come hither' on
two old campaigners likeMartel and Duprez as he seems to have done. What do you think, signora?"

  "I know nothing about the matter; I was in England when the fugitivespassed through Tuscany. But I should think that if the companions whowere with a man on a three years' expedition in savage countries, andthe comrades who were with him through an insurrection, think well ofhim, that is recommendation enough to counterbalance a good deal ofboulevard gossip."

  "There is no question about the opinion his comrades had of him,"said Riccardo. "From Muratori and Zambeccari down to the roughestmountaineers they were all devoted to him. Moreover, he is a personalfriend of Orsini. It's quite true, on the other hand, that there areendless cock-and-bull stories of a not very pleasant kind going aboutconcerning him in Paris; but if a man doesn't want to make enemies heshouldn't become a political satirist."

  "I'm not quite sure," interposed Lega; "but it seems to me that Isaw him once when the refugees were here. Was he not hunchbacked, orcrooked, or something of that kind?"

  The professor had opened a drawer in his writing-table and was turningover a heap of papers. "I think I have his police description somewherehere," he said. "You remember when they escaped and hid in the mountainpasses their personal appearance was posted up everywhere, and thatCardinal--what's the scoundrel's name?--Spinola, offered a reward fortheir heads."

  "There was a splendid story about Rivarez and that police paper, by theway. He put on a soldier's old uniform and tramped across country as acarabineer wounded in the discharge of his duty and trying to find hiscompany. He actually got Spinola's search-party to give him a lift,and rode the whole day in one of their waggons, telling them harrowingstories of how he had been taken captive by the rebels and dragged offinto their haunts in the mountains, and of the fearful tortures that hehad suffered at their hands. They showed him the description paper, andhe told them all the rubbish he could think of about 'the fiend theycall the Gadfly.' Then at night, when they were asleep, he poured abucketful of water into their powder and decamped, with his pockets fullof provisions and ammunition------"

  "Ah, here's the paper," Fabrizi broke in: "'Felice Rivarez, called: TheGadfly. Age, about 30; birthplace and parentage, unknown, probably SouthAmerican; profession, journalist. Short; black hair; black beard; darkskin; eyes, blue; forehead, broad and square; nose, mouth, chin------'Yes, here it is: 'Special marks: right foot lame; left arm twisted; tworingers missing on left hand; recent sabre-cut across face; stammers.'Then there's a note put: 'Very expert shot; care should be taken inarresting.'"

  "It's an extraordinary thing that he can have managed to deceive thesearch-party with such a formidable list of identification marks."

  "It was nothing but sheer audacity that carried him through, of course.If it had once occurred to them to suspect him he would have been lost.But the air of confiding innocence that he can put on when he chooseswould bring a man through anything. Well, gentlemen, what do you thinkof the proposal? Rivarez seems to be pretty well known to several of thecompany. Shall we suggest to him that we should be glad of his help hereor not?"

  "I think," said Fabrizi, "that he might be sounded upon the subject,just to find out whether he would be inclined to think of the plan."

  "Oh, he'll be inclined, you may be sure, once it's a case of fightingthe Jesuits; he is the most savage anti-clerical I ever met; in fact,he's rather rabid on the point."

  "Then will you write, Riccardo?"

  "Certainly. Let me see, where is he now? In Switzerland, I think. He'sthe most restless being; always flitting about. But as for the pamphletquestion----"

  They plunged into a long and animated discussion. When at last thecompany began to disperse Martini went up to the quiet young woman.

  "I will see you home, Gemma."

  "Thanks; I want to have a business talk with you."

  "Anything wrong with the addresses?" he asked softly.

  "Nothing serious; but I think it is time to make a few alterations. Twoletters have been stopped in the post this week. They were both quiteunimportant, and it may have been accidental; but we cannot afford tohave any risks. If once the police have begun to suspect any of ouraddresses, they must be changed immediately."

  "I will come in about that to-morrow. I am not going to talk businesswith you to-night; you look tired."

  "I am not tired."

  "Then you are depressed again."

  "Oh, no; not particularly."