The Saint Part 28

The Friends and the middle-aged spinster, engaged in a warm discussion of Benedetto's Catholic orthodoxy, would not have left off for ten bells, had not the spinster's curiosity been roused by the word "garden." It now burst forth unchecked! Garden indeed! The Professor must tell them all he knew about this Father Hecker, who was an Italian and a layman. Partly to display her knowledge, partly from thoughtlessness, she had already bestowed this t.i.tle upon Benedetto.

The insipid young woman consulted her watch. Her carriage must be at the door. Little Signorina Guarnacci said there were already four or five carriages at the door. The insipid young woman was anxious to reach the Valle in time for the third act of the comedy, and two other ladies, who had engagements, left at the same time. The Marchesa Fermi remained.

"Make haste, Professor," she said, "for my daughter is expecting me this evening, with those other ladies whose shoulders are on view!"

"Do make haste, then!" said the middle-aged spinster, contemptuously.

"Afterwards you can speak for the benefit of the poor creatures who do not show their shoulders!"

A fair-haired, extremely handsome foreigner, in a very low gown, cast a withering glance at the poor, lean, carefully covered little shoulders of the contemptuous spinster, who, greatly vexed, grew as red as a lobster.

"Well, then," the Professor began, "as the Marchesa, and probably the other ladies who are in such a hurry, already know as much as I do myself about the Saint of Jenne, before he left Jenne, I will omit that part of the story. A month ago, then, in October, I did not even remember having read in the papers, in June or July, about this Benedetto, who was preaching and performing miracles at Jenne. Well, one day, coming out of San Marcello, I met a certain Porretti, who used to write for the _Osservatore_, but does so no longer. This Porretti walked on with me, and we spoke of the condemnation of Giovanni Selva's works which is expected from day to day, and which--by the way--has not yet been p.r.o.nounced. Porretti told me there was a friend of Selva's in Rome at present who would be even more talked of than Selva himself. 'Who is he?' I inquired. 'The Saint of Jenne,' he replied, and proceeded to tell me the following story. Two priests, well known in Rome as terrible Pharisees, caused this man to be driven away from Jenne. He retired to Subiaco, stayed with the Selvas, who were spending the summer there, and fell seriously ill. Upon his recovery he came to Rome--about the middle of July. Professor Mayda, another friend of Selva's, engaged him as under-gardener at the villa which he built two years ago on the Aventine, below Sant' Anselmo. The new under-gardener, who wished to be called simply Benedetto, as at Jenne, soon became popular in the whole Testaccio quarter. He distributes his bread among the poor, comforts the sick, and, it seems, has really healed one or two by the laying on of hands and by prayer. He has, in fact, become so popular that Professor Mayda's daughter-in-law, notwithstanding her faith and piety, would gladly dismiss him, on account of the annoyance his many visitors cause.

But her father-in-law treats him with the greatest consideration. If he allows him to rake the paths and water the flowers, it is only because he respects his saintly ideals, and he limits the hours of work, making them as short as possible. He wishes to leave him perfectly free to fulfil his religious mission. Mayda himself often goes into the garden to talk of religion with his under-gardener. To please him Benedetto has abandoned the diet he observed at Jenne, where he ate nothing but bread and herbs, and drank only water; he now eats meat and drinks wine.

To please Benedetto, the Professor distributes these things in large quant.i.ties among the sick of the district. Many people laugh at Benedetto and insult him, but the populace venerates him as did the people of Jenne in the beginning. His deeds of charity to the soul are even greater than his deeds of charity to the body. He has freed certain families from moral disorders, and for this his life was threatened by a woman of evil repute; he has persuaded some to go to church who, since their childhood, have never set foot inside a church. The Benedictines of Sant' Anselmo are well aware of these things. Then, two or three times a week, in the evening, he speaks in the Catacombs."

The middle-aged spinister gasped!

"In the Catacombs?"

She leaned, shuddering, towards the speaker, while one of the Friends murmured: "_Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu_!" and another voice, laden with reverent surprise, said:

"How terrifying!"

"Well," the young man continued, smiling, "Porretti said 'in the Catacombs,' but he meant in a secret place, known to few. At present I myself know its whereabouts."

"Ah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the spinister. "You know? Where is it?"

Guarnacci did not answer, and, perceiving her indiscretion, she added hastily.

"I beg your pardon! I beg your pardon!"

"We shall find out, we shall find out!" said the Marchesa. "But tell me, my dear boy, is not this saint of yours, who preaches in secret, a kind of heresiarch? What do the priests say to him?"

"To-night you might have seen three or four here who went away perfectly satisfied."

"They must be very unpriestly priests, badly baked priests, counterfeit priests. But what do the others say? Mark my words, sooner or later, the others will apply the _torcibudella_, the 'entrail twister,' to him."

With this pleasing prophecy the Marchesa departed, followed by all the bare shoulders.

The middle-aged spinister and the Friends, glad to be rid of that contemptible, mundane bevy, a.s.sailed the Professor with questions. Must he really not tell where the modern Catacombs were? How many people met there? Women also? What were the subjects of his discourses? What did the monks of Sant' Anselmo say? And was anything known concerning this man's previous career? The Professor parried the questions as best he might, and simply repeated to them the words of one of the fathers at Sant' Anselmo: "If there were a Benedetto for every parish in Rome, Rome would indeed become the Holy City." But when--all the others having left--he found himself alone with Signora Albacina and the silent lady, who were waiting for their carriage, he intimated to the former--to whom he was bound by ties of friends.h.i.+p--that he would willingly tell more, but that he was embarra.s.sed by the presence of a stranger, and he begged to be presented to her. Signora Albacina had forgotten to perform this ceremony. "Professor Guarnacci," said she, "Signora Dessalle, a dear friend of mine."

The "Catacombs" meant the very hall they were in at the present moment.

At first the meetings had been held at the Selvas' apartment, in Via Arenula. There were several reasons why that place had not seemed quite suitable. Guarnacci, becoming a disciple, had offered his own house.

The meetings were held there twice a week. Among those who attended them were the Selvas, Signora Selva's sister, a few priests, the Venetian lady who had just left, some young men--among these he might mention a certain Alberti, a favourite with the Master, who this evening had come and gone with him, and a Jew, whose name was Viterbo, and who was soon to become a Catholic; of him the Master expected great things. Besides these a journeyman printer, several artists, and even two members of Parliament came regularly. The object of these meetings was to acquaint such as are drawn to Christ, but who shrink from Catholicism, with what Catholicism really is, the vital and indestructible essence of the Catholic religion, and to show the purely human character of those different forms, which are what render it repugnant to many, but which are changeable, are changing, and will continue to change, through the elaboration of the inner, divine element, combined with the external influences, the influences of science and of the public conscience.

Benedetto was very particular about granting admission to the meetings, for no one was more skilled than he in the delicate task of dealing with souls, respecting their purity, bringing himself down to the small ones, soaring with the high ones, and using with timid souls that careful language which instructs without troubling.

"The Marchesa," continued the Professor, "says he must be an heresiarch, and the priests who follow him heretics. No, With Benedetto there is no danger of heresies or schisms. At the very last meeting he demonstrated that schisms and heresies, besides being blameworthy in themselves, are fatal to the Church, not only because they deprive her of souls, but because they deprive her of elements of progress as well; for if the innovators remained subject to the Church, their errors would perish, and that element of truth, that element of goodness, which--in a certain measure--is nearly always united to error would become vital in the body of the Church."

Signora Albacina observed that all this was very beautiful, and if that was how matters really stood, certainly the Marchesa's prophecy would not be fulfilled.

"The prophecy about the _tordbudella_, the 'entrail twister?' Ah no!"

said the Professor, laughing. "Such things are not done now, and I do not believe they ever were done. It is all calumny! Only the Marchesa and certain others like her in Rome believe these things. A Roman priest, a _priest_, you understand, dared to warn Benedetto, to advise him to be cautious. But Benedetto let him see he must not speak to him of caution again. Therefore it will not be the _torcibudella_--no--but persecution it will be! Yes, indeed!--Those two Roman priests who were at Jenne have not been asleep. I did not wish to say so before, because the Marchesa is not the person to tell such things to, but there is much trouble brewing. Benedetto's every step has been watched; Professor Mayda's daughter-in-law has been made use of, through the confessional, to obtain information concerning his language, and they have found out about the meetings. The presence of Selva is enough to give them the character these people abhor, and as they are powerless against a layman, it seems they are trying to obtain the help of the civil law against Benedetto; they are appealing to the police and to the judges.

You are surprised? But it is so. As yet nothing has been decided, nothing has been done, but they are plotting. We were informed of this by a foreign ecclesiastic, who chattered foolishly on a former occasion; but this time he has chattered to good purpose. Materials for a penal action are being prepared and invented."

The silent lady shuddered, and opened her lips at last.

"How can that be possible?" she said.

"My dear lady," said the Professor, "you little know of what some of these _intransigenti_, these non-concessionists in priestly robes, are capable. The secular non-concessionists are lambs compared to them. They are going to make use of an unfortunate accident which took place at Jenne. Now, however, we are greatly encouraged by a fresh incident, of which it would not be wise to speak to many, without discriminating, but which is most important."

The Professor paused a moment, enjoying the lively curiosity he had awakened, and which, though they did not speak, shone in the eager eyes of the two ladies.

"The other day," he continued, "Cardinal----'s secretary, a young German priest, went to Sant' Anselmo to confer with the monks. In consequence of this visit Benedetto was summoned to Sant' Anselmo, where the Benedictines hold him in great affection and esteem. He was asked if he did not intend to pay homage to His Holiness, and beg for an audience.

He replied that he had come to Rome with this desire in his heart; that he had waited for a sign from Divine Providence, and that now the sign had come. Then he was informed that His Holiness would certainly receive him most willingly, and he asked for an audience. This was disclosed to Giovanni Selva by a German Benedictine."

"And when is he to go?" Signora Albacina asked.

"The day after to-morrow in the evening."

The Professor added that the Vatican was maintaining the strictest secrecy in regard to this matter, that Benedetto had been forbidden to mention it to any one, and that nothing would have transpired had it not been for the German monk's indiscretion. Benedetto's friends hoped much good would come of this visit. Signora Albacina asked what Benedetto intended to say to the Pontiff. The Professor smiled. Benedetto had not taken any one into his confidence, and no one had ventured to question him. The Professor fancied he would speak in favour of Selva, would beg that his books might not be placed on the Index.

"That would be very little," said Signora Albacina in a low tone.

Jeanne uttered a low murmur of a.s.sent.

"Very little indeed!" she exclaimed, almost as if the Professor were to blame. He appeared much surprised at this sudden outburst, after such a long silence. He apologised, saying he had not intended to a.s.sert that Benedetto would not speak to the Pope of other matters. He had simply meant to say that he believed he would certainly mention that subject.

Signora Albacina could not understand this desire of the Pope's to see Benedetto. How did his friends explain it? What did Selva think about it? Ah! no one could explain it, neither Selva nor any one else.

"I can explain it!" said Jeanne eagerly, pleased to be able to understand what puzzled all others. "Was not the Pope once Bishop of Brescia?"

Guarnacci's smile was half admiring, half ironical, as he answered. Ah!

the Signora was well informed concerning Benedetto's past. The Signora knew certain things to be facts, things which were whispered in Rome, but which nevertheless, were doubted by many. Of one fact, however, she was ignorant. The Pope had never been Bishop of Brescia. He had occupied two episcopal chairs in the south. Jeanne did not answer; she was vexed with herself, and mortified at having so nearly betrayed her secret.

Signora Albacina wished to know what opinion Benedetto had of the Pope.

"Oh, in the Pope he sees and venerates the office alone," said the Professor. "At least, I believe so. I have never heard him speak of the man, but I have heard him speak of the office. He made it the subject of a magnificent discourse one evening, comparing Catholicism and Protestantism, and exposing his ideal of the government of the Church: a princ.i.p.ality and just liberty. As to the new Pope, little is known of him as yet. He is said to be saintly, intelligent, sickly, and weak."

While accompanying the ladies down the dark stairs to their carriage, the Professor remarked:

"What is greatly feared is that Benedetto will not live. Mayda at least fears this."

Signora Albacina, who was descending the stairs leaning on the Professor's arm, exclaimed, without pausing:

"Oh! poor fellow! What is the matter with him?" "_Ma_! Who can say?"

the Professor replied. "Some incurable disease, it would seem, the consequence of typhoid fever, which he had at Subiaco, but above all, of the life of hards.h.i.+p he led, a life of penance and fasting."

And they continued their long descent in silence.

It was only on reaching the foot of the stairs that they perceived their companion had remained behind. The Professor hastily retraced his steps, and found Jeanne standing on the second landing, clinging to the banisters. At first she neither spoke nor moved; but presently she murmured:

"I cannot see!"