HEARING the cell-door unlocked, the Gadfly turned away his eyes with languid indifference. He supposed that it was only the Governor, coming to worry him with another interrogation. Several soldiers mounted the narrow stair, their carbines clanking against the wall; then a deferential voice said: "It is rather steep here, Your Eminence."
He started convulsively, and then shrank down, catching his breath under the stinging pressure of the straps.
Montanelli came in with the sergeant and three guards.
"If Your Eminence will kindly wait a moment," the sergeant began nervously, "one of my men will bring a chair. He has just gone to fetch it. Your Eminence will excuse us--if we had been expecting you, we should have been prepared."
"There is no need for any preparation. Will you kindly leave us alone, sergeant; and wait at the foot of the stairs with your men?"
"Yes, Your Eminence. Here is the chair; shall I put it beside him?"
The Gadfly was lying with closed eyes; but he felt that Montanelli was looking at him.
"I think he is asleep, Your Eminence," the sergeant was beginning, but the Gadfly opened his eyes.
"No," he said.
As the soldiers were leaving the cell they were stopped by a sudden exclamation from Montanelli; and, turning back, saw that he was bending down to examine the straps.
"Who has been doing this?" he asked. The sergeant fumbled with his cap.
"It was by the Governor's express orders, Your Eminence."
"I had no idea of this, Signer Rivarez," Montanelli said in a voice of great distress.
"I told Your Eminence," the Gadfly answered, with his hard smile, "that I n-n-never expected to be patted on the head."
"Sergeant, how long has this been going on?"
"Since he tried to escape, Your Eminence."
"That is, nearly a week? Bring a knife and cut these off at once."
"May it please Your Eminence, the doctor wanted to take them off, but Colonel Ferrari wouldn't allow it."
"Bring a knife at once." Montanelli had not raised his voice, but the soldiers could see that he was white with anger. The sergeant took a clasp-knife from his pocket, and bent down to cut the arm-strap. He was not a skilful-fingered man; and he jerked the strap tighter with an awkward movement, so that the Gadfly winced and bit his lip in spite of all his self-control. Montanelli came forward at once.
"You don't know how to do it; give me the knife."
"Ah-h-h!" The Gadfly stretched out his arms with a long, rapturous sigh as the strap fell off. The next instant Montanelli had cut the other one, which bound his ankles.
"Take off the irons, too, sergeant; and then come here. I want to speak to you."
He stood by the window, looking on, till the sergeant threw down the fetters and approached him.
"Now," he said, "tell me everything that has been happening."
The sergeant, nothing loath, related all that he knew of the Gadfly's illness, of the "disciplinary measures," and of the doctor's unsuccessful attempt to interfere.
"But I think, Your Eminence," he added, "that the colonel wanted the straps kept on as a means of getting evidence."
"Evidence?"
"Yes, Your Eminence; the day before yesterday I heard him offer to have them taken off if he"--with a glance at the Gadfly--"would answer a question he had asked."
Montanelli clenched his hand on the window-sill, and the soldiers glanced at one another: they had never seen the gentle Cardinal angry before. As for the Gadfly, he had forgotten their existence; he had forgotten everything except the physical sensation of freedom. He was cramped in every limb; and now stretched, and turned, and twisted about in a positive ecstasy of relief.
"You can go now, sergeant," the Cardinal said. "You need not feel anxious about having committed a breach of discipline; it was your duty to tell me when I asked you. See that no one disturbs us. I will come out when I am ready."
When the door had closed behind the soldiers, he leaned on the window-sill and looked for a while at the sinking sun, so as to leave the Gadfly a little more breathing time.
"I have heard," he said presently, leaving the window, and sitting down beside the pallet, "that you wish to speak to me alone. If you feel well enough to tell me what you wanted to say, I am at your service."
He spoke very coldly, with a stiff, imperious manner that was not natural to him. Until the straps were off, the Gadfly was to him simply a grievously wronged and tortured human being; but now he recalled their last interview, and the deadly insult with which it had closed. The Gadfly looked up, resting his head lazily on one arm. He possessed the gift of slipping into graceful attitudes; and when his face was in shadow no one would have guessed through what deep waters he had been passing. But, as he looked up, the clear evening light showed how haggard and colourless he was, and how plainly the trace of the last few days was stamped on him. Montanelli's anger died away.
"I am afraid you have been terribly ill," he said. "I am sincerely sorry that I did not know of all this. I would have put a stop to it before."
The Gadfly shrugged his shoulders. "All's fair in war," he said coolly. "Your Eminence objects to straps theoretically, from the Christian standpoint; but it is hardly fair to expect the colonel to see that. He, no doubt, would prefer not to try them on his own skin--which is j-j-just my case. But that is a matter of p-p-personal convenience. At this moment I am undermost-- w-w-what would you have? It is very kind of Your Eminence, though, to call here; but perhaps that was done from the C-c-christian standpoint, too. Visiting prisoners--ah, yes! I forgot. 'Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of the l-least of these'--it's not very complimentary, but one of the least is duly grateful."
"Signor Rivarez," the Cardinal interrupted, "I have come here on your account--not on my own. If you had not been 'undermost,' as you call it, I should never have spoken to you again after what you said to me last week; but you have the double privilege of a prisoner and a sick man, and I could not refuse to come. Have you anything to say to me, now I am here; or have you sent for me merely to amuse yourself by insulting an old man?"
There was no answer. The Gadfly had turned. away, and was lying with one hand across his eyes.
"I am--very sorry to trouble you," he said at last, huskily; "but could I have a little water?"
There was a jug of water standing by the window, and Montanelli rose and fetched it. As he slipped his arm round the Gadfly to lift him, he suddenly felt the damp, cold fingers close over his wrist like a vice.
"Give me your hand--quick--just a moment," the Gadfly whispered. "Oh, what difference does it make to you? Only one minute!"
He sank down, hiding his face on Montanelli's arm, and quivering from head to foot.
"Drink a little water," Montanelli said after a moment. The Gadfly obeyed silently; then lay back on the pallet with closed eyes. He himself could have given no explanation of what had happened to him when Montanelli's hand had touched his cheek; he only knew that in all his life there had been nothing more terrible.
Montanelli drew his chair closer to the pallet and sat down. The Gadfly was lying quite motionless, like a corpse, and his face was livid and drawn. After a long silence, he opened his eyes, and fixed their haunting, spectral gaze on the Cardinal.
"Thank you," he said. "I--am sorry. I think --you asked me something?"
"You are not fit to talk. If there is anything you want to say to me, I will try to come again to-morrow."
"Please don't go, Your Eminence--indeed, there is nothing the matter with me. I--I have been a little upset these few days; it was half of it malingering, though--the colonel will tell you so if you ask him."
"I prefer to form my own conclusions," Montanelli answered quietly.
"S-so does the colonel. And occasionally, do you know, they are rather witty. You w-w-wouldn't think it to look at him; but s-s-sometimes he gets hold of an or-r-riginal idea. On Friday night, for instance--I think it was Friday, but I got a l-little mixed as to time towards the end--anyhow, I asked for a d-dose of opium--I remember that quite distinctly; and he came in here and said I m-might h-h-have it if I would tell him who un-l-l-locked the gate. I remember his saying: 'If it's real, you'll consent; if you don't, I shall look upon it as a p-proof that you are shamming.' It n-n-never oc-c-curred to me before how comic that is; it's one of the f-f-funniest things----"
He burst into a sudden fit of harsh, discordant laughter; then, turning sharply on the silent Cardinal, went on, more and more hurriedly, and stammering so that the words were hardly intelligible:
"You d-d-don't see that it's f-f-funny? Of c-course not; you r-religious people n-n-never have any s-sense of humour--you t-take everything t-t-tragically. F-for instance, that night in the Cath-thedral--how solemn you were! By the way --w-what a path-thetic figure I must have c-cut as the pilgrim! I d-don't believe you e-even see anything c-c-comic in the b-business you have c-come about this evening."
Montanelli rose.
"I came to hear what you have to say; but I think you are too much excited to say it to-night. The doctor had better give you a sedative, and we will talk to-morrow, when you have had a night's sleep."
"S-sleep? Oh, I shall s-sleep well enough, Your Eminence, when you g-give your c-consent to the colonel's plan--an ounce of l-lead is a s-splendid sedative."
"I don't understand you," Montanelli said, turning to him with a startled look.
The Gadfly burst out laughing again.
"Your Eminence, Your Eminence, t-t-truth is the c-chief of the Christian virtues! D-d-do you th-th-think I d-d-don't know how hard the Governor has been trying to g-get your consent to a court-martial? You had b-better by half g-give it, Your Eminence; it's only w-what all your b-brother prelates would do in your place. 'Cosi fan tutti;' and then you would be doing s-such a lot of good, and so l-little harm! Really, it's n-not worth all the sleepless nights you have been spending over it!"
"Please stop laughing a minute," Montanelli interrupted, "and tell me how you heard all this. Who has been talking to you about it?"
"H-hasn't the colonel e-e-ever told you I am a d-d-devil--not a man? No? He has t-told me so often enough! Well, I am devil enough to f-find out a little bit what p-people are thinking about. Your E-eminence is thinking that I'm a conf-founded nuisance, and you wish s-somebody else had to settle what's to be done with me, without disturbing your s-sensitive conscience. That's a p-pretty fair guess, isn't it?"
"Listen to me," the Cardinal said, sitting down again beside him, with a very grave face. "However you found out all this, it is quite true. Colonel Ferrari fears another rescue attempt on the part of your friends, and wishes to forestall it in--the way you speak of. You see, I am quite frank with you."
"Your E-eminence was always f-f-famous for truthfulness," the Gadfly put in bitterly.
"You know, of course," Montanelli went on, "that legally I have no jurisdiction in temporal matters; I am a bishop, not a legate. But I have a good deal of influence in this district; and the colonel will not, I think, venture to take so extreme a course unless he can get, at least, my tacit consent to it. Up till now I have unconditionally opposed the scheme; and he has been trying very hard to conquer my objection by assuring me that there is great danger of an armed attempt on Thursday when the crowd collects for the procession --an attempt which probably would end in bloodshed. Do you follow me?"
The Gadfly was staring absently out of the window. He looked round and answered in a weary voice:
"Yes, I am listening."
"Perhaps you are really not well enough to stand this conversation to-night. Shall I come back in the morning? It is a very serious matter, and I want your whole attention."
"I would rather get it over now," the Gadfly answered in the same tone. "I follow everything you say."
"Now, if it be true," Montanelli went on, "that there is any real danger of riots and bloodshed on account of you, I am taking upon myself a tremendous responsibility in opposing the colonel; and I believe there is at least some truth in what he says. On the other hand, I am inclined to think that his judgment is warped, to a certain extent, by his personal animosity against you, and that he probably exaggerates the danger. That seems to me the more likely since I have seen this shameful brutality." He glanced at the straps and chains lying on the floor, and went on:
"If I consent, I kill you; if I refuse, I run the risk of killing innocent persons. I have considered the matter earnestly, and have sought with all my heart for a way out of this dreadful alternative. And now at last I have made up my mind."
"To kill me and s-save the innocent persons, of course--the only decision a Christian man could possibly come to. 'If thy r-right hand offend thee,' etc. I have n-not the honour to be the right hand of Your Eminence, and I have offended you; the c-c-conclusion is plain. Couldn't you tell me that without so much preamble?"
The Gadfly spoke with languid indifference and contempt, like a man weary of the whole subject.
"Well?" he added after a little pause. "Was that the decision, Your Eminence?"
"No."
The Gadfly shifted his position, putting both hands behind his head, and looked at Montanelli with half-shut eyes. The Cardinal, with his head sunk down as in deep thought, was softly beating one hand on the arm of his chair. Ah, that old, familiar gesture!
"I have decided," he said, raising his head at last, "to do, I suppose, an utterly unprecedented thing. When I heard that you had asked to see me, I resolved to come here and tell you everything, as I have done, and to place the matter in your own hands."
"In--my hands?"
"Signor Rivarez, I have not come to you as cardinal, or as bishop, or as judge; I have come to you as one man to another. I do not ask you to tell me whether you know of any such scheme as the colonel apprehends. I understand quite well that, if you do, it is your secret and you will not tell it. But I do ask you to put yourself in my place. I am old, and, no doubt, have not much longer to live. I would go down to my grave without blood on my hands."
"Is there none on them as yet, Your Eminence?"
Montanelli grew a shade paler, but went on quietly:
"All my life I have opposed repressive measures and cruelty wherever I have met with them. I have always disapproved of capital punishment in all its forms; I have protested earnestly and repeatedly against the military commissions in the last reign, and have been out of favour on account of doing so. Up till now such influence and power as I have possessed have always been employed on the side of mercy. I ask you to believe me, at least, that I am speaking the truth. Now, I am placed in this dilemma. By refusing, I am exposing the town to the danger of riots and all their consequences; and this to save the life of a man who blasphemes against my religion, who has slandered and wronged and insulted me personally (though that is comparatively a trifle), and who, as I firmly believe, will put that life to a bad use when it is given to him. But--it is to save a man's life."
He paused a moment, and went on again:
"Signor Rivarez, everything that I know of your career seems to me bad and mischievous; and I have long believed you to be reckless and violent and unscrupulous. To some extent I hold that opinion of you still. But during this last fortnight you have shown me that you are a brave man and that you can be faithful to your friends. You have made the soldiers love and admire you, too; and not every man could have done that. I think that perhaps I have misjudged you, and that there is in you something better than what you show outside. To that better self in you I appeal, and solemnly entreat you, on your conscience, to tell me truthfully--in my place, what would you do?"
A long silence followed; then the Gadfly looked up.
"At least, I would decide my own actions for myself, and take the consequences of them. I would not come sneaking to other people, in the cowardly Christian way, asking them to solve my problems for me!"
The onslaught was so sudden, and its extraordinary vehemence and passion were in such startling contrast to the languid affectation of a moment before, that it was as though he had thrown off a mask.
"We atheists," he went on fiercely, "understand that if a man has a thing to bear, he must bear it as best he can; and if he sinks under it-- why, so much the worse for him. But a Christian comes whining to his God, or his saints; or, if they won't help him, to his enemies--he can always find a back to shift his burdens on to. Isn't there a rule to go by in your Bible, or your Missal, or any of your canting theology books, that you must come to me to tell you what to do? Heavens and earth, man! Haven't I enough as it is, without your laying your responsibilities on my shoulders? Go back to your Jesus; he exacted the uttermost farthing, and you'd better do the same. After all, you'll only be killing an atheist--a man who boggles over 'shibboleth'; and that's no great crime, surely!"
He broke off, panting for breath, and then burst out again:
"And YOU to talk of cruelty! Why, that p-p-pudding-headed ass couldn't hurt me as much as you do if he tried for a year; he hasn't got the brains. All he can think of is to pull a strap tight, and when he can't get it any tighter he's at the end of his resources. Any fool can do that! But you---- 'Sign your own death sentence, please; I'm too tender-hearted to do it myself.' Oh! it would take a Christian to hit on that--a gentle, compassionate Christian, that turns pale at the sight of a strap pulled too tight! I might have known when you came in, like an angel of mercy-- so shocked at the colonel's 'barbarity'--that the real thing was going to begin! Why do you look at me that way? Consent, man, of course, and go home to your dinner; the thing's not worth all this fuss. Tell your colonel he can have me shot, or hanged, or whatever comes handiest--roasted alive, if it's any amusement to him--and be done with it!"
The Gadfly was hardly recognizable; he was beside himself with rage and desperation, panting and quivering, his eyes glittering with green reflections like the eyes of an angry cat.
Montanelli had risen, and was looking down at him silently. He did not understand the drift of the frenzied reproaches, but he understood out of what extremity they were uttered; and, understanding that, forgave all past insults.
"Hush!" he said. "I did not want to hurt you so. Indeed, I never meant to shift my burden on to you, who have too much already. I have never consciously done that to any living creature----"
"It's a lie!" the Gadfly cried out with blazing eyes. "And the bishopric?"
"The--bishopric?"
"Ah! you've forgotten that? It's so easy to forget! 'If you wish it, Arthur, I will say I cannot go. I was to decide your life for you--I, at nineteen! If it weren't so hideous, it would be funny."
"Stop!" Montanelli put up both hands to his head with a desperate cry. He let them fall again, and walked slowly away to the window. There he sat down on the sill, resting one arm on the bars, and pressing his forehead against it. The Gadfly lay and watched him, trembling.
Presently Montanelli rose and came back, with lips as pale as ashes.
"I am very sorry," he said, struggling piteously to keep up his usual quiet manner, "but I must go home. I--am not quite well."
He was shivering as if with ague. All the Gadfly's fury broke down.
"Padre, can't you see----"
Montanelli shrank away, and stood still.
"Only not that!" he whispered at last. "My God, anything but that! If I am going mad----"
The Gadfly raised himself on one arm, and took the shaking hands in his.
"Padre, will you never understand that I am not really drowned?"
The hands grew suddenly cold and stiff. For a moment everything was dead with silence, and then Montanelli knelt down and hid his face on the Gadfly's breast.
. . . . .
When he raised his head the sun had set, and the red glow was dying in the west. They had forgotten time and place, and life and death; they had forgotten, even, that they were enemies.
"Arthur," Montanelli whispered, "are you real? Have you come back to me from the dead?"
"From the dead----" the Gadfly repeated, shivering. He was lying with his head on Montanelli's arm, as a sick child might lie in its mother's embrace.
"You have come back--you have come back at last!"
The Gadfly sighed heavily. "Yes," he said; "and you have to fight me, or to kill me."
"Oh, hush, carino! What is all that now? We have been like two children lost in the dark, mistaking one another for phantoms. Now we have found each other, and have come out into the light. My poor boy, how changed you are--how changed you are! You look as if all the ocean of the world's misery had passed over your head-- you that used to be so full of the joy of life! Arthur, is it really you? I have dreamed so often that you had come back to me; and then have waked and seen the outer darkness staring in upon an empty place. How can I know I shall not wake again and find it all a dream? Give me something tangible--tell me how it all happened."
"It happened simply enough. I hid on a goods vessel, as stowaway, and got out to South America."
"And there?"
"There I--lived, if you like to call it so, till-- oh, I have seen something else besides theological seminaries since you used to teach me philosophy! You say you have dreamed of me--yes, and much! You say you have dreamed of me--yes, and I of you----"
He broke off, shuddering.
"Once," he began again abruptly, "I was working at a mine in Ecuador----"
"Not as a miner?"
"No, as a miner's fag--odd-jobbing with the coolies. We had a barrack to sleep in at the pit's mouth; and one night--I had been ill, the same as lately, and carrying stones in the blazing sun--I must have got light-headed, for I saw you come in at the door-way. You were holding a crucifix like that one on the wall. You were praying, and brushed past me without turning. I cried out to you to help me--to give me poison or a knife--something to put an end to it all before I went mad. And you--ah------!"
He drew one hand across his eyes. Montanelli was still clasping the other.
"I saw in your face that you had heard, but you never looked round; you went on with your prayers. When you had finished, and kissed the crucifix, you glanced round and whispered: 'I am very sorry for you, Arthur; but I daren't show it; He would be angry.' And I looked at Him, and the wooden image was laughing.
"Then, when I came to my senses, and saw the barrack and the coolies with their leprosy, I understood. I saw that you care more to curry favour with that devilish God of yours than to save me from any hell. And I have remembered that. I forgot just now when you touched me; I--have been ill, and I used to love you once. But there can be nothing between us but war, and war, and war. What do you want to hold my hand for? Can't you see that while you believe in your Jesus we can't be anything but enemies?"
Montanelli bent his head and kissed the mutilated hand.
"Arthur, how can I help believing in Him? If I have kept my faith through all these frightful years, how can I ever doubt Him any more, now that He has given you back to me? Remember, I thought I had killed you."
"You have that still to do."
"Arthur!" It was a cry of actual terror; but the Gadfly went on, unheeding:
"Let us be honest, whatever we do, and not shilly-shally. You and I stand on two sides of a pit, and it's hopeless trying to join hands across it. If you have decided that you can't, or won't, give up that thing"--he glanced again at the crucifix on the wall--"you must consent to what the colonel----"
"Consent! My God--consent--Arthur, but I love you!"
The Gadfly's face contracted fearfully.
"Which do you love best, me or that thing?"
Montanelli slowly rose. The very soul in him withered with dread, and he seemed to shrivel up bodily, and to grow feeble, and old, and wilted, like a leaf that the frost has touched. He had awaked out of his dream, and the outer darkness was staring in upon an empty place.
"Arthur, have just a little mercy on me----"
"How much had you for me when your lies drove me out to be slave to the blacks on the sugar-plantations? You shudder at that--ah, these tender-hearted saints! This is the man after God's own heart--the man that repents of his sin and lives. No one dies but his son. You say you love me,--your love has cost me dear enough! Do you think I can blot out everything, and turn back into Arthur at a few soft words--I, that have been dish-washer in filthy half-caste brothels and stable-boy to Creole farmers that were worse brutes than their own cattle? I, that have been zany in cap and bells for a strolling variety show--drudge and Jack-of-all-trades to the matadors in the bull-fighting ring; I, that have been slave to every black beast who cared to set his foot on my neck; I, that have been starved and spat upon and trampled under foot; I, that have begged for mouldy scraps and been refused because the dogs had the first right? Oh, what is the use of all this! How can I TELL you what you have brought on me? And now--you love me! How much do you love me? Enough to give up your God for me? Oh, what has He done for you, this everlasting Jesus, --what has He suffered for you, that you should love Him more than me? Is it for the pierced hands He is so dear to you? Look at mine! Look here, and here, and here----"
He tore open his shirt and showed the ghastly scars.
"Padre, this God of yours is an impostor, His wounds are sham wounds, His pain is all a farce! It is I that have the right to your heart! Padre, there is no torture you have not put me to; if you could only know what my life has been! And yet I would not die! I have endured it all, and have possessed my soul in patience, because I would come back and fight this God of yours. I have held this purpose as a shield against my heart, and it has saved me from madness, and from the second death. And now, when I come back, I find Him still in my place--this sham victim that was crucified for six hours, forsooth, and rose again from the dead! Padre, I have been crucified for five years, and I, too, have risen from the dead. What are you going to do with me? What are you going to do with me?"
He broke down. Montanelli sat like some stone image, or like a dead man set upright. At first, under the fiery torrent of the Gadfly's despair, he had quivered a little, with the automatic shrinking of the flesh, as under the lash of a whip; but now he was quite still. After a long silence he looked up and spoke, lifelessly, patiently:
"Arthur, will you explain to me more clearly? You confuse and terrify me so, I can't understand. What is it you demand of me?"
The Gadfly turned to him a spectral face.
"I demand nothing. Who shall compel love? You are free to choose between us two the one who is most dear to you. If you love Him best, choose Him."
"I can't understand," Montanelli repeated wearily. "What is there I can choose? I cannot undo the past."
"You have to choose between us. If you love me, take that cross off your neck and come away with me. My friends are arranging another attempt, and with your help they could manage it easily. Then, when we are safe over the frontier, acknowledge me publicly. But if you don't love me enough for that,--if this wooden idol is more to you than I,--then go to the colonel and tell him you consent. And if you go, then go at once, and spare me the misery of seeing you. I have enough without that."
Montanelli looked up, trembling faintly. He was beginning to understand.
"I will communicate with your friends, of course. But--to go with you--it is impossible-- I am a priest."
"And I accept no favours from priests. I will have no more compromises, Padre; I have had enough of them, and of their consequences. You must give up your priesthood, or you must give up me."
"How can I give you up? Arthur, how can I give you up?"
"Then give up Him. You have to choose between us. Would you offer me a share of your love--half for me, half for your fiend of a God? I will not take His leavings. If you are His, you are not mine."
"Would you have me tear my heart in two? Arthur! Arthur! Do you want to drive me mad?"
The Gadfly struck his hand against the wall.
"You have to choose between us," he repeated once more.
Montanelli drew from his breast a little case containing a bit of soiled and crumpled paper.
"Look!" he said.
"I believed in you, as I believed in God. God is a thing made of clay, that I can smash with a hammer; and you have fooled me with a lie."
The Gadfly laughed and handed it back. "How d-d-delightfully young one is at nineteen! To take a hammer and smash things seems so easy. It's that now--only it's I that am under the hammer. As for you, there are plenty of other people you can fool with lies--and they won't even find you out."
"As you will," Montanelli said. "Perhaps in your place I should be as merciless as you--God knows. I can't do what you ask, Arthur; but I will do what I can. I will arrange your escape, and when you are safe I will have an accident in the mountains, or take the wrong sleeping-draught by mistake--whatever you like to choose. Will that content you? It is all I can do. It is a great sin; but I think He will forgive me. He is more merciful------"
The Gadfly flung out both hands with a sharp cry.
"Oh, that is too much! That is too much! What have I done that you should think of me that way? What right have you---- As if I wanted to be revenged on you! Can't you see that I only want to save you? Will you never understand that I love you?"
He caught hold of Montanelli's hands and covered them with burning kisses and tears.
"Padre, come away with us! What have you to do with this dead world of priests and idols? They are full of the dust of bygone ages; they are rotten; they are pestilent and foul! Come out of this plague-stricken Church--come away with us into the light! Padre, it is we that are life and youth; it is we that are the everlasting springtime; it is we that are the future! Padre, the dawn is close upon us--will you miss your part in the sunrise? Wake up, and let us forget the horrible nightmares,--wake up, and we will begin our life again! Padre, I have always loved you--always, even when you killed me--will you kill me again?"
Montanelli tore his hands away. "Oh, God have mercy on me!" he cried out. "YOU HAVE YOUR MOTHER'S EYES!"
A strange silence, long and deep and sudden, fell upon them both. In the gray twilight they looked at each other, and their hearts stood still with fear.
"Have you anything more to say?" Montanelli whispered. "Any--hope to give me?"
"No. My life is of no use to me except to fight priests. I am not a man; I am a knife. If you let me live, you sanction knives."
Montanelli turned to the crucifix. "God! Listen to this----"
His voice died away into the empty stillness without response. Only the mocking devil awoke again in the Gadfly.
"'C-c-call him louder; perchance he s-s-sleepeth'----"
Montanelli started up as if he had been struck. For a moment he stood looking straight before him;--then he sat down on the edge of the pallet, covered his face with both hands, and burst into tears. A long shudder passed through the Gadfly, and the damp cold broke out on his body. He knew what the tears meant.
He drew the blanket over his head that he might not hear. It was enough that he had to die--he who was so vividly, magnificently alive. But he could not shut out the sound; it rang in his ears, it beat in his brain, it throbbed in all his pulses. And still Montanelli sobbed and sobbed, and the tears dripped down between his fingers.
He left off sobbing at last, and dried his eyes with his handkerchief, like a child that has been crying. As he stood up the handkerchief slipped from his knee and fell to the floor.
"There is no use in talking any more," he said. "You understand?"
"I understand," the Gadfly answered, with dull submission. "It's not your fault. Your God is hungry, and must be fed."
Montanelli turned towards him. The grave that was to be dug was not more still than they were. Silent, they looked into each other's eyes, as two lovers, torn apart, might gaze across the barrier they cannot pass.
It was the Gadfly whose eyes sank first. He shrank down, hiding his face; and Montanelli understood that the gesture meant "Go!" He turned, and went out of the cell. A moment later the Gadfly started up.
"Oh, I can't bear it! Padre, come back! Come back!"
The door was shut. He looked around him slowly, with a wide, still gaze, and understood that all was over. The Galilean had conquered.
All night long the grass waved softly in the courtyard below--the grass that was so soon to wither, uprooted by the spade; and all night long the Gadfly lay alone in the darkness, and sobbed.
听到牢门打开以后，牛虻转过眼睛，露出懒散的冷漠之情。他以为又是统领，借着审问来折磨他。几名士兵走上狭窄的楼梯，短筒马枪磕碰在墙上。随后有人毕恭毕敬地说：“这里很陡，主教阁下。”
他抽搐了一下，然后缩了一下身体，并且屏住呼吸。紧束的皮带使他疼痛难忍。
蒙泰尼里随同军曹和三名看守走了进来。
“如果主教阁下稍等片刻，”军曹神情紧张地说道，“我就让人搬来椅子。他已经拿去了。恳请主教阁下原谅——如果我们知道您来，我们就会作好准备。”
“没有必要准备。军曹，请你让我们单独谈一谈。你带上你的部下到楼下去等好吗？”
“是，主教阁下。这是椅子。我来把它放到他的身边好吗？”
牛虻闭着眼睛躺在那里，但是他感觉到蒙泰尼里正在看他。
“我看他睡着了，主教阁下。”军曹开口说道，但是牛虻睁开了眼睛。
“不。”他说。
正当士兵们离开牢房的时候，蒙泰尼里突然喝住了他们。
他们转过身来，看见他正弯腰检查皮带。
“谁干的？”他问。
军曹摸着军帽。
“这是遵照统领的明确命令，主教阁下。”
“这我毫不知晓，里瓦雷兹。”蒙泰尼里说道。声音里流露出极度的痛心。
“我告诉过主教阁下，”牛虻答道，面露苦笑，“我从来就不指望被人拍拍脑袋。”
“军曹，这样已有多长时间了？”
“自从他企图越狱以后，主教阁下。”
“这就是说有两个星期了？拿把刀子来，立即割断皮带。”
“悉听主教阁下尊便，医生想要取掉皮带，但是费拉里上校不许。”
“立即拿把刀子来。”蒙泰尼里没有提高声音，但是那些士兵可以看出他气得脸色发白。军曹从口袋里取出一把折刀，然后弯腰去割皮带。他不是一个手脚灵活的人，因为动作笨拙而使皮带束得更紧。尽管牛虻保持自制，他还是直往后缩，并且咬紧牙关。
“你不知道怎么做，把刀子给我。”
“啊——啊——啊！”皮带松去以后，牛虻舒展胳膊，情不自禁地长叹一声。蒙泰尼里随后割断了绑在脚踝上的另一根皮带。
“把镣铐也给去掉，军曹。然后到这里来，我想和你谈谈。”
他站在窗边望着。军曹取下镣铐，然后走到他的跟前。
“现在，”他说，“把这里发生的一切都告诉我。”
军曹并非不乐意。他讲述了他所知道的全部情况，包括牛虻的病情、“惩戒措施”和医生想管却没管成的经过。
“但是我认为，主教阁下，”他补充说道，“上校给他捆上皮带是想逼出他的口供。”
“口供？”
“是，主教阁下。前天我听上校说他愿意取下皮带，如果，”——他瞥了一眼牛虻——“他愿意回答他提的一个问题。”
蒙泰尼里攥紧了放在窗台上的那只手，士兵们相互望着对方。他们以前从没见过性情温和的红衣主教生气。至于牛虻，他已经忘记了他们的存在，竟自体会松绑之后的愉悦。他的四肢曾被绑着，现在却能自如伸展、转动和扭曲，煞是惬意。
“你们现在可以走了，军曹。”红衣主教说道，“你不用担心违犯了纪律，你有义务回答我的问题。务必不让别人打扰我们。完了我就出去。”
士兵们关门离去以后，他靠在窗台上，对着落日看了一会儿，好让牛虻有点喘息的时间。
他离开窗户，坐在地铺的旁边。“我已经听说了，”他随后说道，“你希望和我单独谈谈。如果你觉得身体还行，想要对我说出你想说的话，我就洗耳恭听。”
他说起话来非常冷漠，他的态度一贯生硬而又傲慢。在皮带取掉之前，牛虻对他来说只是一个受到严酷虐待和折磨的人。但是现在他回忆起了他们上次见面的情景，以及结束的时候自己受到的莫大侮辱。牛虻懒洋洋地把头枕在一只胳膊上，然后抬起头来。他装出了悠然自得的神态，这种才能他是具备的。当他的脸庞没在阴影之中时，没有人猜得出来他经历了多大的磨难。但是当他抬起头来时，明净的夜色显出他是那样的憔悴和苍白，最近几天受到虐待的痕迹那样清晰地烙在他的身上。蒙泰尼里的怒气平息了下来。
“恐怕你一直病得非常厉害，”他说，“这些我全然不知，对此我诚心表示歉意。否则我早就予以制止。”
牛虻耸了耸他的肩膀。“战争之中一切都是公平的。”他冷冷地说道。“主教阁下出于基督教的观点，从理论上反对使用皮带。但是想让上校明白这一点，那就毫不公平了。他无疑不愿把皮带绑在自己的身上——我的情况也、也、也是如此。但是这个问题就看谁、谁、谁方便了。目前我是低人一等——你还、还、还想怎么样？多谢主教阁下能来看我，但是您来兴许也是出于基、基、基督教的观点。看望犯人——噢，对了！我给忘了。‘对他们中的一个卑微小人行下功德’［引自《福音书》。］——不是什么恭维话，但是卑微小人感谢不尽。”
“里瓦雷兹先生，”红衣主教打断了他的话，“我来这里是为了你——不是为了我。如果你不是你所说的‘低人一等’，那么在你最近对我说了那些话以后，我是永远也不会跟你说话的。但是你享有双重的特权，既是犯人又是病人，我无法拒绝前来。现在我已来了，你有什么话要说？抑或你把我叫来，只是为了侮辱一位老人取乐吗？”
没有回答。牛虻转过身去，一只手挡住他的眼睛。
“非常抱歉，我想麻烦您一下，”最后他扯着嘶哑的声音说道，“我能喝点水吗？”
窗户旁边放着一只水壶，蒙泰尼里起身把它取来。当他伸出胳膊扶起牛虻时，他突然感到牛虻冰冷而又潮湿的手指抓住了他的手腕，就像一把钳子。
“把您的手给我——快——就一会儿，”牛虻低声说道，“噢，这又有什么关系呢？只要一分钟。”
他倒了下去，把脸伏在蒙泰尼里的胳膊上。他浑身抖个不停。
“喝点水吧。”过了一会儿，蒙泰尼里说道。牛虻默默地喝了水，然后闭着眼睛躺在地铺上。他自己无法解释，在蒙泰尼里的手碰到他的面颊时，他的心里产生了什么样的感受。
他只是知道他这一生还没有什么比这更加可怕。
蒙泰尼里把椅子挪近地铺，然后坐了下来。牛虻躺在那里，一动也不动，就像一具死尸，煞白的脸拉得老长。沉默许久以后，他睁开眼睛，那种让人难以忘怀的目光死死盯住红衣主教。
“谢谢您，”他说。“我、我非常抱歉。我想——您问过我什么话吧？”
“你还不宜交谈。如果你有什么话要对我说，明天我会尽量来的。”
“请您不要走，主教阁下——我的确没什么。我在想我这几天有点心烦意乱，一半是装的——如果您问上校，他会这么跟您说。”
“我宁愿得出我自己的结论。”蒙泰尼里平静地答道。
“上校也、也、也会这样。您知道，有些时候，他的结论可是非常机智。看他的外表，您不、不、不会想到这一点。但是有时，他能冒出一个绝、绝、绝妙的主意。比如上上个星期五——我想是星期五吧，但是日子所剩无几了，我对时间有、有点颠三倒四——反正我想要一剂、剂鸦片——我记得十分清楚。他走了进来，说如果我告诉他谁打、打开了铁门，我就可、可以得到鸦、鸦片。我记得他说：‘如果真病，你就会同意；如果你不同意，我认为这就证、证明了你在装病。’我还不曾想过会有这么滑稽。这事真是好笑——”
他突然发出一阵不大和谐的刺耳笑声，然后猛地转过头来，看着沉默的红衣主教。他接着说了下去，话说得越来越快，结结巴巴，所以他的话很难听懂。
“您不、不、不觉得这事好、好笑吗？当、当然不好笑了，你们这些宗、宗教人士从、从来就没有什么幽默感、感——你们抱着悲、悲、悲观的态度看待一切。比、比如说那天夜晚在大教、教堂里——您是多么庄重！随便说说——我装、装扮的朝圣者多、多么叫人怜、怜悯！今晚您来到这里，我不、不相信您能、能觉得有什么好、好、好笑之处。”
蒙泰尼里站起身来。
“我来是听听你有什么话要说，但是我认为今晚你太激动了。医生最好给你服用一片镇静剂，等你睡上一夜以后，我们明天再谈。”
“睡、睡觉？噢、我会安稳入、入睡，主教阁下，等您同、同意上校的计、计划——盎司的铅、铅就是绝、绝好的镇静剂。”
“我不明白你在说些什么，”蒙泰尼里调头说道，吃惊地看着他。
“主教阁下，主教阁下，诚、诚、诚实是基督教的主、主要道德。您认、认、认为我不知、知道统领一直尽力争、争取您同意设立军事法庭吗？您最、最好还是同意吧，主教阁下。别的主、主教也会同、同意这么做的，‘Cosifanfutti’［大家都是这样做的。］您这、这样做好处颇多，坏处极、极少！真的，不、不值得为此整夜辗转反侧！”
“请你暂时别笑。”蒙泰尼里打断了他的话。“告诉我，这些你都是从哪里听说的，谁对你说的？”
“难、难、难道上校没、没有告诉过你，我是一个魔、魔、魔鬼——不是一个人吗？没有？他也没、没有对我说！呃，我是一个魔鬼，能够发、发现一点人们心里在想些什么。主教阁下正在想着我是一个极其讨、讨厌的东西，您希望别、别人来处理我的问题，免得扰乱您那敏感的良心。猜得很、很对，是不是？”
“听我说。”红衣主教重又坐在他的身边，表情非常严肃。
“不管你是怎么知道的，这都是真的。费拉里上校担心你的朋友再次劫狱，所以希望预先阻止这种事情——就用你所说的办法。你知道，我对你十分坦诚。”
“主教阁下素以诚实著称天下。”牛虻恨恨地插了一句。
“你当然知道，”蒙泰尼里接着说道，“从法律上来说，我无权干涉世俗的事务。我是一位主教，不是教皇的特使。但是我在这个地区有很大的影响力。我认为上校不会贸然采取这么极端的措施，除非他至少得到我的同意。直到现在为止，我一直无条件地反对这个计划。他一直竭力打消我的反对意见。他郑重向我说明，在星期四民众游行的时候，极有爆发武装劫狱的危险——这会最终导致流血。你听清我说的话吗？”
牛虻漫不经心地望着窗外。他回过头来，无精打采地答道：“是，我听着呢。”
“也许你的身体真是不大好，今晚无法承受这样的谈话。要我明天再来吗？这是一件非常重要的事情，我需要你集中全部的精力。”
“我情愿现在把它谈完，”牛虻带着同样的语调回答，“您的话我听得一清二楚。”
“如果真是这样，”蒙泰尼里接着说道，“为了你的缘故，真有爆发骚乱和流血的危险，那么反对上校，我就给自己揽下了巨大的责任。我相信他的话至少是有几分道理。另一方面，我又觉得在某种程度上，他的判断有些偏差，因为他个人对你怀有敌意，而且他很有可能夸大了这种危险。由于我已目睹了这种可耻的野蛮行为，这一点在我看来可能性更大。”他瞥了一眼摊在地上的皮带和镣铐，然后接着说了下去：“如果我同意的话，我就杀死了你；如果我拒绝的话，我就冒着杀死无辜民众的危险。我认真地考虑了这个问题，殚精竭虑地想从这个可怕的抉择中寻找出一条道路来。现在我终于作出了决定。”
“当然是杀死我，挽救无辜的民众——这是一个基督徒所能作出的唯一决定。‘若是右手冒犯你，就砍下来丢掉，’［引自《福音书》。］等等。我不、不幸成为主教阁下的右手，可我却冒犯了你。结、结、结论显而易见，不用长篇大论，您就不能直说吗？”
牛虻说话带着懒散的冷漠和鄙视，仿佛厌倦了整个话题。
“呃？”他在片刻之后又问，“主教阁下，您是作出了这个决定吗？”
“不！”
牛虻改变了他的姿态，双手枕在头后，眯起眼睛望着蒙泰尼里。红衣主教低头陷入沉思，一只手轻轻地敲着椅子的扶手。啊，这个熟悉的老姿势！
“我已经决定了，”他最后抬起头来说道，“我想是要做出一件前所未有的事情。当我听说你想见我的时候，我就决意要到这里来，把一切都告诉你。我已经这么做了，即把问题交到你的手里。”
“我——我的手里？”
“里瓦雷兹先生，我到你这儿来，不是作为一位红衣主教或法官。我到你这儿来，是作为一个人看望另一个人。我并不要求你告诉我，说你知道上校所担心的劫狱计划。我十分明白，如果你知道，那是你的秘密，而你也不会说。但是我要求你站在我的位置想想。我已经老了，无疑活不了多长的时间。我希望在进入坟墓的时候，双手不要沾满鲜血。”
“主教阁下，难道它们还没有沾满鲜血吗？”
蒙泰尼里的脸色变得有些苍白，但他还是镇静自若，接着说道：“我毕生反对高压政策和残暴，到哪儿我都是这样。我一直都不赞同各种形式的死刑。前任教皇在位的时候，我再三强烈抗议设立军事委员会，并且因此失势。直到现在，我所拥有的影响和权力都用于布施慈悲。请你相信我，至少我说的都是真话。现在我是进退两难。如果予以拒绝，本城就有爆发骚乱的危险，后果不堪设想。这样就会挽救一个人的生命，可他却亵渎了我所信仰的宗教，并且诽谤、冤枉和侮辱了我本人（尽管相对来说这是一件小事），而且我坚信如果放他一条生路，他会继续去做坏事。可是——这样就会挽救一个人的生命啊。”
他停顿片刻，然后接着说道：“里瓦雷兹先生，从我所掌握的情况来看，你的所作所为都是存心不良。我早就相信你是一个胡作非为、凶狠残暴和无法无天的人。在某种程度上，我对你仍然持有这样的看法。但是在过去的两个星期里，我又发现你是一位勇敢的人，忠于你的朋友。你也使那些士兵热爱你，并且钦佩你；并不是每一个人都能做到这一点。我认为也许是我看错了你，你的身上有着某种好的东西，这种东西从你的外表是看不出来的。我祈求于你心中好的一面，郑重恳求你，凭着你的良心如实告诉我——处在我的位置，你会怎么做？”
随后是一阵长久的沉默，然后牛虻抬起头来。
“至少我会自己决定我的行动，并且承担行动的后果。我不会低三下四地跑到别人跟前，俨然是一副懦弱的基督徒模样，请求他们来解决我的问题！”
这阵攻击来得太突然，猛烈的言辞和激愤的情绪与片刻之前懒散的温情态度形成鲜明的对比。牛虻仿佛一下子扔掉了面具。
“我们无神论者明白，”他愤怒地说道，“如果一个人必须承担一件事情，他就必须尽量承担。如果他被压垮了下去——哼，那他就活该。但是一位基督徒会跑到他的上帝或者他的圣徒跟前哀号；如果他们帮不了他，他就跑到他的敌人跟前哀号——他总是能够找到一个背脊，卸下他的负担。难道你的《圣经》、你的弥撒书和你那些伪善的神学书里规定你必须跑到我的跟前，让我告诉你怎么办吗？天啊，你怎么这样！难道我的负担还不够重吗？你非得把你的责任加在我的肩上？去找你的耶稣，他要求献出一切，你最好也这么做吧。反正你杀的只是一个无神论者——一个咬不准‘示潘列’［出自《圣经》之《旧士师记》中的故事。基列人（Gilead）把守约旦河渡口，为了不让以法莲人（Ephraimites）逃走，用Shibboleth“示潘列”考验过河的人，把此字念成Sibboleth“西潘列”的人则会被处死。故凡念不准Shibboleth“示潘列”的人便是敌人。］的人，这当然不是犯下什么大罪！”
他打住话头，喘过气来，然后重又慷慨陈词：“你居然也谈起了残暴！哼，那头笨驴就是用上一年的时间，他也不能像你这样伤害我；他没有头脑。他所想的只是抽紧皮带，如果再也抽不紧了，他就无计可施。哪个笨蛋都会这么做！但是你呢——‘签上你自己的死亡判决书吧，我心太软了，下不了这个手。’噢！基督徒才会想出这个主意——一位性情温和、慈悲为怀的基督徒，见到皮带抽得太紧，脸色都会发白！在您进来的时候，就像一位慈悲的天使——见到上校的‘野蛮行径’那么震惊——我就该知道好戏就要开场了！您为什么这样看我？伙计，当然还是同意了，然后回家吃你的饭去。这事不值得小题大做。告诉你的上校，他可以把我枪毙，或者绞死，或者是怎么方便怎么来——如果他乐意，也可以把我活活铐死——这事就算结束了！”
牛虻变得几乎认不出来了。愤怒和绝望之余，他已身不由己。他喘着粗气，浑身发抖，他的眼睛闪出绿色的光芒，就像是一只发怒的猫。
蒙泰尼里已经站起身来，正在默默地俯视着他。他不明白为什么会受到这样疯狂的指责，但是他明白在情急之下才会说出这样的话。明白了这一点，他就原谅了以前对他的所有侮辱。
“嘘！”他说，“我并不想这样伤害你。我的确没有打算把我的负担转嫁到你的身上，你的负担已经太多。我从来没有对一个活人故意做过——”
“你在撒谎！”牛虻两眼冒火，大声说道，“主教的职位是怎么来的？”
“主教的职位？”
“啊！您忘记了吗？那么容易就忘了！‘如果你希望我不去，亚瑟，我就说我不能去。’让我替您决定您的生活——我，那时我才十七岁！如果这都不是丑陋的行径，那就太好、太好、好笑了！”
“住嘴！”蒙泰尼里发出一声绝望的叫喊，用双手捂住脑袋。他又垂下手来，缓慢地走到窗前。他坐在窗台上，一只胳膊支在栏杆上，前额抵在胳膊上。牛虻躺在那里望着他，身体抖个不停。
蒙泰尼里很快就起身走了回来，嘴唇如死灰一样煞白。
“非常抱歉。”他说，可怜巴巴地强打精神，竭力保持平常那种从容不迫的态度。“但是我必须回家去。我——身体不大好。”
他就像得了疟疾一样浑身哆嗦。牛虻的所有愤怒全都烟消云散了。
“Padre，您看不出来——”
蒙泰尼里直往后缩，站在那里不动。
“但愿不是！”他最后低声说道。“我的上帝，但愿不是啊！要是我在发疯——”
牛虻撑着一只胳膊抬起身体，一把抓住蒙泰尼里发抖的双手。
“Padre，您难道从不明白我真的没被淹死吗？”
那一双手突然变得又冷又硬。瞬间一切都变得那样寂静，蒙泰尼里随后跪下身来，把脸伏在牛虻的胸前。
当他抬起头来时，太阳已经落山，西边的晚霞正在暗淡下去。他们已经忘却了时间和地点，忘却了生与死。他们甚至忘却了他们是敌人。
“亚瑟，”蒙泰尼里低声说道，“真的是你吗？你是从死亡那里回到了我的身边吗？”
“从死亡那里——”牛虻重复说道，浑身发抖。他躺在那里，把头枕在蒙泰尼里的胳膊上，就像一个生病的孩子躺在母亲的怀里。
“你回来了——你终于回来了！”
牛虻长叹一声。“是，”他说，“而且您得和我斗，否则就得把我杀死。”
“噢，Garino，别说话！现在说那些做什么！我们就像两个在黑暗之中迷途的孩子，误把对方当成了幽灵。现在我们已经找到了对方，我们已经走进了光明的世界。我可怜的孩子，你变得太厉害了——你变得太厉害了！你看上去像是经历了全世界所有的苦难——你曾经充满了生活的欢乐！亚瑟，真的是你吗？我常常梦见你回到我的跟前，然后我就醒了过来，看见外部的黑暗正凝视一个空荡荡的地方。我怎么能知道我不会再次醒来，发现全都是梦呢？给我一点明确的证据——告诉我事情的全部经过。”
“经过非常简单。我藏在一条货船上，作了一回偷渡客，乘船到了南美。”
“到了那里以后呢？”
“到了那里我就——活着呗，如果你愿意这么说的话，后来——噢，除了神学院以外，因为您教过我哲学，我还看到了一些别的东西！您说您梦见过我——是，我也梦见过您——”
他打住了话头，身体直抖。
“有一次，”突然他又开口说道，“我正在厄瓜多尔的一个矿场干活——”
“不是当矿工吧？”
“不是，是作矿工的下手，——随同苦力打点零工。我们睡在矿井口旁边的一个工棚里。有一天夜晚——我一直在生病，就像最近一样，在烈日之下扛石头——我一定是头晕，因为我看见您从门口走了进来。您举着就像墙上这样的一个十字架。您正在祈祷，从我身旁走过，头也没回一下。我喊您帮助我——给我毒药，或者是一把刀子——给我一样东西，让我在发疯之前了结一切。可您——啊——！”
他抬起一只手挡住眼睛。蒙泰尼里仍然抓着另一只手。
“我从您的脸上看出您已经听见了，但是您始终不回头。您祈祷完了吻了一下十字架，然后您回头瞥了我一眼，低声说道：‘我非常抱歉，亚瑟，但是我不敢流露出来。他会生气的。’我看着他，那个木雕的偶像正在大笑。
“然后我清醒过来，看见工棚和患有麻风病的苦力，我明白了。我看出您更关心的是向您那个恶魔上帝邀宠，而不是把我从地狱里拯救出去。这一情景我一直都记得。刚才在您碰到我的时候，我给忘了。我——一直都在生病，我曾经爱过您。但是我们之间只能是战争、战争和战争。您抓住我的手做什么？您看不出来在您信仰您的耶稣时，我们只能成为敌人吗？”
蒙泰尼里低下头来，吻着那只残疾的手。
“亚瑟，我怎能不信仰他呢？这些年来真是可怕，可我一直都坚定我的信念。既然他已经把你还给了我，我还怎能怀疑他呢？记住，我以为是我杀死了你。”
“你仍然还得这么做。”
“亚瑟！”这一声呼喊透出真实的恐怖，但是牛虻没有听见，接着说道：“我们还是以诚相待，不管我们做什么，不要优柔寡断。您和我站在一个深渊的两边，要想隔着深渊携起手来是毫无希望的。如果您认为您做不到，或者不愿放弃那个东西，”——他瞥了一眼挂在墙上的十字架——“您就必须同意上校——”
“同意！我的上帝——同意——亚瑟，但是我爱你啊！”
牛虻的脸扭曲得让人感到可怕。
“您更爱谁，是我还是那个东西？”
蒙泰尼里缓慢地站起身来。他的心灵因恐怖而焦枯，他的肉体仿佛也在萎缩。他变得虚弱、衰老和憔悴，就像霜打的一片树叶。他已从梦中惊醒，外部的黑暗正在凝视一个空荡荡的地方。
“亚瑟，你就可怜一下我吧——”
“在您的谎言把我赶出去成为甘蔗园的奴隶时，您又给了我多少可怜呢？听到这个您就发抖——啊，这些心软的圣人！这就是一个符合上帝心意的人——这个人忏悔了他的罪过，并且活了下来。只有他的儿子死去。您说您爱我——您的受害得我够惨的了！您认为我可以勾销一切，几句甜言蜜语就能使我变成亚瑟？我曾在肮脏的妓院洗过盘子；我曾替比他们的畜生还要凶狠的农场主当过马童；我曾在走江湖的杂耍班子里当过小丑，戴着帽子，挂着铃铛；我曾在斗牛场里为斗牛士们干这干那；我曾屈从于任何愿意凌辱我的混蛋；我曾忍饥挨饿，被人吐过唾沫，被人踩在脚下；我曾乞讨发霉的残羹剩饭，但却遭人拒绝，因为狗要吃在前头。哼，说这些有什么用？我怎能说出您所给我带来的一切？现在——您爱我！您爱我有多深？足以为了我而放弃您的上帝吗？哼，他为您做了什么？这个永恒的耶稣——他为您受过什么罪，竟使您爱他甚过爱我？就为了那双被钉穿的手，您就对他如此爱戴？看看我吧！看看这儿，还有这儿，还有这儿——”
他撕开他的衬衣，露出可怕的伤痕。
“Padre，您的上帝是一个骗子。他的创伤是假的。他的痛苦全是做戏！我才有权赢得您的心！Padre，您使我历尽了各种折磨。要是您知道我过的是什么样的生活就好了！可我没死！我忍受了这一切，耐心地把握住我的心灵，因为我会回来的，并和您的上帝斗争。我就是抱着这个目的，把它作为盾牌来捍卫我的内心，这样我才没有发疯，没有第二次死去。现在，等我回来以后，我发现他仍占据我的位置——这个虚伪的受难者，他在十字架上被钉了六个小时，真的，然后就死里复生！Padre，我在十字架上被钉了五年，我也是死里复生。您要拿我怎么办？您要拿我怎么办？”
他说不下去了。蒙泰尼里坐在那里就像是一尊石像，或者就像是被扶坐起来的死人。起先听到牛虻在绝望之下慷慨陈词，他有点发抖，肌肤机械地收缩，就像遭到鞭子的抽打；但是现在他十分镇静。经过长久的沉默，他抬起头来，沉闷而又耐心地说道：“亚瑟，你能给我