The Gadfly

by E. L. Voynich

  CHAPTER V.

  THE Gadfly certainly knew how to make personal enemies. He had arrivedin Florence in August, and by the end of October three-fourths of thecommittee which had invited him shared Martini's opinion. His savageattacks upon Montanelli had annoyed even his admirers; and Gallihimself, who at first had been inclined to uphold everything the wittysatirist said or did, began to acknowledge with an aggrieved air thatMontanelli had better have been left in peace. "Decent cardinals arenone so plenty. One might treat them politely when they do turn up."

  The only person who, apparently, remained quite indifferent to the stormof caricatures and pasquinades was Montanelli himself. It seemed, asMartini said, hardly worth while to expend one's energy in ridiculinga man who took it so good-humouredly. It was said in the town thatMontanelli, one day when the Archbishop of Florence was dining withhim, had found in the room one of the Gadfly's bitter personal lampoonsagainst himself, had read it through and handed the paper to theArchbishop, remarking: "That is rather cleverly put, is it not?"

  One day there appeared in the town a leaflet, headed: "The Mysteryof the Annunciation." Even had the author omitted his now familiarsignature, a sketch of a gadfly with spread wings, the bitter, trenchantstyle would have left in the minds of most readers no doubt as to hisidentity. The skit was in the form of a dialogue between Tuscany asthe Virgin Mary, and Montanelli as the angel who, bearing the lilies ofpurity and crowned with the olive branch of peace, was announcing theadvent of the Jesuits. The whole thing was full of offensive personalallusions and hints of the most risky nature, and all Florence felt thesatire to be both ungenerous and unfair. And yet all Florence laughed.There was something so irresistible in the Gadfly's grave absurditiesthat those who most disapproved of and disliked him laughed asimmoderately at all his squibs as did his warmest partisans. Repulsivein tone as the leaflet was, it left its trace upon the popular feelingof the town. Montanelli's personal reputation stood too high for anylampoon, however witty, seriously to injure it, but for a moment thetide almost turned against him. The Gadfly had known where to sting;and, though eager crowds still collected before the Cardinal's houseto see him enter or leave his carriage, ominous cries of "Jesuit!" and"Sanfedist spy!" often mingled with the cheers and benedictions.

  But Montanelli had no lack of supporters. Two days after the publicationof the skit, the Churchman, a leading clerical paper, brought outa brilliant article, called: "An Answer to 'The Mystery of theAnnunciation,'" and signed: "A Son of the Church." It was an impassioneddefence of Montanelli against the Gadfly's slanderous imputations. Theanonymous writer, after expounding, with great eloquence and fervour,the doctrine of peace on earth and good will towards men, of which thenew Pontiff was the evangelist, concluded by challenging the Gadflyto prove a single one of his assertions, and solemnly appealing to thepublic not to believe a contemptible slanderer. Both the cogency ofthe article as a bit of special pleading and its merit as a literarycomposition were sufficiently far above the average to attract muchattention in the town, especially as not even the editor of thenewspaper could guess the author's identity. The article was soonreprinted separately in pamphlet form; and the "anonymous defender" wasdiscussed in every coffee-shop in Florence.

  The Gadfly responded with a violent attack on the new Pontificate andall its supporters, especially on Montanelli, who, he cautiouslyhinted, had probably consented to the panegyric on himself. To thisthe anonymous defender again replied in the Churchman with an indignantdenial. During the rest of Montanelli's stay the controversy ragingbetween the two writers occupied more of the public attention than dideven the famous preacher himself.

  Some members of the liberal party ventured to remonstrate with theGadfly about the unnecessary malice of his tone towards Montanelli; butthey did not get much satisfaction out of him. He only smiled affablyand answered with a languid little stammer: "R-really, gentlemen, youare rather unfair. I expressly stipulated, when I gave in to SignoraBolla, that I should be allowed a l-l-little chuckle all to myself now.It is so nominated in the bond!"

  At the end of October Montanelli returned to his see in the Romagna,and, before leaving Florence, preached a farewell sermon in which hespoke of the controversy, gently deprecating the vehemence of bothwriters and begging his unknown defender to set an example of toleranceby closing a useless and unseemly war of words. On the following day theChurchman contained a notice that, at Monsignor Montanelli's publiclyexpressed desire, "A Son of the Church" would withdraw from thecontroversy.

  The last word remained with the Gadfly. He issued a little leaflet,in which he declared himself disarmed and converted by Montanelli'sChristian meekness and ready to weep tears of reconciliation upon theneck of the first Sanfedist he met. "I am even willing," he concluded;"to embrace my anonymous challenger himself; and if my readers knew, ashis Eminence and I know, what that implies and why he remains anonymous,they would believe in the sincerity of my conversion."

  In the latter part of November he announced to the literary committeethat he was going for a fortnight's holiday to the seaside. He went,apparently, to Leghorn; but Dr. Riccardo, going there soon after andwishing to speak to him, searched the town for him in vain. On the 5thof December a political demonstration of the most extreme characterburst out in the States of the Church, along the whole chain of theApennines; and people began to guess the reason of the Gadfly's suddenfancy to take his holidays in the depth of winter. He came back toFlorence when the riots had been quelled, and, meeting Riccardo in thestreet, remarked affably:

  "I hear you were inquiring for me in Leghorn; I was staying in Pisa.What a pretty old town it is! There's something quite Arcadian aboutit."

  In Christmas week he attended an afternoon meeting of the literarycommittee which was held in Dr. Riccardo's lodgings near the Porta allaCroce. The meeting was a full one, and when he came in, a little late,with an apologetic bow and smile, there seemed to be no seat empty.Riccardo rose to fetch a chair from the next room, but the Gadflystopped him. "Don't trouble about it," he said; "I shall be quitecomfortable here"; and crossing the room to a window beside whichGemma had placed her chair, he sat down on the sill, leaning his headindolently back against the shutter.

  As he looked down at Gemma, smiling with half-shut eyes, in the subtle,sphinx-like way that gave him the look of a Leonardo da Vinci portrait,the instinctive distrust with which he inspired her deepened into asense of unreasoning fear.

  The proposal under discussion was that a pamphlet be issued settingforth the committee's views on the dearth with which Tuscany wasthreatened and the measures which should be taken to meet it. Thematter was a somewhat difficult one to decide, because, as usual, thecommittee's views upon the subject were much divided. The more advancedsection, to which Gemma, Martini, and Riccardo belonged, was in favourof an energetic appeal to both government and public to take adequatemeasures at once for the relief of the peasantry. The moderatedivision--including, of course, Grassini--feared that an over-emphatictone might irritate rather than convince the ministry.

  "It is all very well, gentlemen, to want the people helped at once," hesaid, looking round upon the red-hot radicals with his calm and pityingair. "We most of us want a good many things that we are not likely toget; but if we start with the tone you propose to adopt, the governmentis very likely not to begin any relief measures at all till there isactual famine. If we could only induce the ministry to make an inquiryinto the state of the crops it would be a step in advance."

  Galli, in his corner by the stove, jumped up to answer his enemy.

  "A step in advance--yes, my dear sir; but if there's going to be afamine, it won't wait for us to advance at that pace. The people mightall starve before we got to any actual relief."

  "It would be interesting to know----" Sacconi began; but several voicesinterrupted him.

  "Speak up; we can't hear!"

  "I should think not, with such an infernal row in the street," saidGalli, irritably. "Is that window shut, Riccardo? One can't hear one'sse
lf speak!"

  Gemma looked round. "Yes," she said, "the window is quite shut. I thinkthere is a variety show, or some such thing, passing."

  The sounds of shouting and laughter, of the tinkling of bells andtrampling of feet, resounded from the street below, mixed with thebraying of a villainous brass band and the unmerciful banging of a drum.

  "It can't be helped these few days," said Riccardo; "we must expectnoise at Christmas time. What were you saying, Sacconi?"

  "I said it would be interesting to hear what is thought about the matterin Pisa and Leghorn. Perhaps Signor Rivarez can tell us something; hehas just come from there."

  The Gadfly did not answer. He was staring out of the window and appearednot to have heard what had been said.

  "Signor Rivarez!" said Gemma. She was the only person sitting near tohim, and as he remained silent she bent forward and touched him on thearm. He slowly turned his face to her, and she started as she saw itsfixed and awful immobility. For a moment it was like the face of acorpse; then the lips moved in a strange, lifeless way.

  "Yes," he whispered; "a variety show."

  Her first instinct was to shield him from the curiosity of the others.Without understanding what was the matter with him, she realized thatsome frightful fancy or hallucination had seized upon him, and that, forthe moment, he was at its mercy, body and soul. She rose quickly and,standing between him and the company, threw the window open as if tolook out. No one but herself had seen his face.

  In the street a travelling circus was passing, with mountebanks ondonkeys and harlequins in parti-coloured dresses. The crowd of holidaymasqueraders, laughing and shoving, was exchanging jests and showers ofpaper ribbon with the clowns and flinging little bags of sugar-plums tothe columbine, who sat in her car, tricked out in tinsel and feathers,with artificial curls on her forehead and an artificial smile on herpainted lips. Behind the car came a motley string of figures--streetArabs, beggars, clowns turning somersaults, and costermongers hawkingtheir wares. They were jostling, pelting, and applauding a figure whichat first Gemma could not see for the pushing and swaying of the crowd.The next moment, however, she saw plainly what it was--a hunchback,dwarfish and ugly, grotesquely attired in a fool's dress, with papercap and bells. He evidently belonged to the strolling company, and wasamusing the crowd with hideous grimaces and contortions.

  "What is going on out there?" asked Riccardo, approaching the window."You seem very much interested."

  He was a little surprised at their keeping the whole committee waitingto look at a strolling company of mountebanks. Gemma turned round.

  "It is nothing interesting," she said; "only a variety show; but theymade such a noise that I thought it must be something else."

  She was standing with one hand upon the window-sill, and suddenly feltthe Gadfly's cold fingers press the hand with a passionate clasp. "Thankyou!" he whispered softly; and then, closing the window, sat down againupon the sill.

  "I'm afraid," he said in his airy manner, "that I have interrupted you,gentlemen. I was l-looking at the variety show; it is s-such a p-prettysight."

  "Sacconi was asking you a question," said Martini gruffly. The Gadfly'sbehaviour seemed to him an absurd piece of affectation, and he wasannoyed that Gemma should have been tactless enough to follow hisexample. It was not like her.

  The Gadfly disclaimed all knowledge of the state of feeling in Pisa,explaining that he had been there "only on a holiday." He then plungedat once into an animated discussion, first of agricultural prospects,then of the pamphlet question; and continued pouring out a flood ofstammering talk till the others were quite tired. He seemed to find somefeverish delight in the sound of his own voice.

  When the meeting ended and the members of the committee rose to go,Riccardo came up to Martini.

  "Will you stop to dinner with me? Fabrizi and Sacconi have promised tostay."

  "Thanks; but I was going to see Signora Bolla home."

  "Are you really afraid I can't get home by myself?" she asked, risingand putting on her wrap. "Of course he will stay with you, Dr. Riccardo;it's good for him to get a change. He doesn't go out half enough."

  "If you will allow me, I will see you home," the Gadfly interposed; "Iam going in that direction."

  "If you really are going that way----"

  "I suppose you won't have time to drop in here in the course of theevening, will you, Rivarez?" asked Riccardo, as he opened the door forthem.

  The Gadfly looked back over his shoulder, laughing. "I, my dear fellow?I'm going to see the variety show!"

  "What a strange creature that is; and what an odd affection formountebanks!" said Riccardo, coming back to his visitors.

  "Case of a fellow-feeling, I should think," said Martini; "the man's amountebank himself, if ever I saw one."

  "I wish I could think he was only that," Fabrizi interposed, with agrave face. "If he is a mountebank I am afraid he's a very dangerousone."

  "Dangerous in what way?"

  "Well, I don't like those mysterious little pleasure trips that he is sofond of taking. This is the third time, you know; and I don't believe hehas been in Pisa at all."

  "I suppose it is almost an open secret that it's into the mountains hegoes," said Sacconi. "He has hardly taken the trouble to deny that heis still in relations with the smugglers he got to know in the Savignoaffair, and it's quite natural he should take advantage of theirfriendship to get his leaflets across the Papal frontier."

  "For my part," said Riccardo; "what I wanted to talk to you about isthis very question. It occurred to me that we could hardly do betterthan ask Rivarez to undertake the management of our own smuggling. Thatpress at Pistoja is very inefficiently managed, to my thinking; and theway the leaflets are taken across, always rolled in those everlastingcigars, is more than primitive."

  "It has answered pretty well up till now," said Martini contumaciously.He was getting wearied of hearing Galli and Riccardo always put theGadfly forward as a model to copy, and inclined to think that the worldhad gone well enough before this "lackadaisical buccaneer" turned up toset everyone to rights.

  "It has answered so far well that we have been satisfied with it forwant of anything better; but you know there have been plenty of arrestsand confiscations. Now I believe that if Rivarez undertook the businessfor us, there would be less of that."

  "Why do you think so?"

  "In the first place, the smugglers look upon us as strangers to dobusiness with, or as sheep to fleece, whereas Rivarez is their personalfriend, very likely their leader, whom they look up to and trust. Youmay be sure every smuggler in the Apennines will do for a man who wasin the Savigno revolt what he will not do for us. In the next place,there's hardly a man among us that knows the mountains as Rivarez does.Remember, he has been a fugitive among them, and knows the smugglers'paths by heart. No smuggler would dare to cheat him, even if he wishedto, and no smuggler could cheat him if he dared to try."

  "Then is your proposal that we should ask him to take over thewhole management of our literature on the other side of thefrontier--distribution, addresses, hiding-places, everything--or simplythat we should ask him to put the things across for us?"

  "Well, as for addresses and hiding-places, he probably knows alreadyall the ones that we have and a good many more that we have not. Idon't suppose we should be able to teach him much in that line. Asfor distribution, it's as the others prefer, of course. The importantquestion, to my mind, is the actual smuggling itself. Once the books aresafe in Bologna, it's a comparatively simple matter to circulate them."

  "For my part," said Martini, "I am against the plan. In the first place,all this about his skilfulness is mere conjecture; we have not actuallyseen him engaged in frontier work and do not know whether he keeps hishead in critical moments."

  "Oh, you needn't have any doubt of that!" Riccardo put in. "The historyof the Savigno affair proves that he keeps his head."

  "And then," Martini went on; "I do not feel at all inclined, from whatlittle I know of Riv
arez, to intrust him with all the party's secrets.He seems to me feather-brained and theatrical. To give the wholemanagement of a party's contraband work into a man's hands is a seriousmatter. Fabrizi, what do you think?"

  "If I had only such objections as yours, Martini," replied theprofessor, "I should certainly waive them in the case of a man reallypossessing, as Rivarez undoubtedly does, all the qualifications Riccardospeaks of. For my part, I have not the slightest doubt as to either hiscourage, his honesty, or his presence of mind; and that he knows bothmountains and mountaineers we have had ample proof. But there is anotherobjection. I do not feel sure that it is only for the smuggling ofpamphlets he goes into the mountains. I have begun to doubt whether hehas not another purpose. This is, of course, entirely between ourselves.It is a mere suspicion. It seems to me just possible that he is inconnexion with some one of the 'sects,' and perhaps with the mostdangerous of them."

  "Which one do you mean--the 'Red Girdles'?"

  "No; the 'Occoltellatori.'"

  "The 'Knifers'! But that is a little body of outlaws--peasants, most ofthem, with neither education nor political experience."

  "So were the insurgents of Savigno; but they had a few educated men asleaders, and this little society may have the same. And remember, it'spretty well known that most of the members of those more violent sectsin the Romagna are survivors of the Savigno affair, who found themselvestoo weak to fight the Churchmen in open insurrection, and so have fallenback on assassination. Their hands are not strong enough for guns, andthey take to knives instead."

  "But what makes you suppose Rivarez to be connected with them?"

  "I don't suppose, I merely suspect. In any case, I think we had betterfind out for certain before we intrust our smuggling to him. If heattempted to do both kinds of work at once he would injure our partymost terribly; he would simply destroy its reputation and accomplishnothing. However, we will talk of that another time. I wanted to speakto you about the news from Rome. It is said that a commission is to beappointed to draw up a project for a municipal constitution."