Benedetto did not answer this unexpected question at once.
“Well, well,” his interlocutor continued. “It is not of much importance at present. We are not in a court of justice. I hold that if one is going to do good, it is best to do it in one’s own name. But then I do not go to church, and my views differ from yours. However, as I said before, it is of no importance. Do you know who I am? Did the delegato tell you?”
“No, sir.”
“Very well, then; I am a functionary of the State, who takes some interest in the public security, and who has a certain amount of power—yes, a certain amount of power. Now I am going to prove to you that I take an interest in you also. I regret to say, you are in a critical position, my dear Signor Maironi, or Signor Benedetto, at your choice. An accusation of a really serious nature has been lodged against you with the judicial authorities, and I see that not only your reputation for saintliness is in danger, but also your personal liberty, and hence your preaching, at least for several years.”
A flame spread over Benedetto’s face, and his eyes flashed.
“Leave the saintliness and the reputation alone,” said he.
The august functionary of the State continued, unmoved:
“I have wounded you. But you must know that your reputation for saintliness is threatened by other dangers. Other things are said about you which have nothing to do with the penal code,—you may be quite easy on that score—but which are not in perfect harmony with Catholic morals. I assure you these things are believed by many. I am simply stating the facts; it is really no business of mine. After all, saintliness is never a reality; it is always more or less an idealisation of the image by the mirror. If there is saintliness anywhere, it is in the mirror, in the people who believe in the saints. I myself do not believe in them. But let us come to serious matters. I was obliged to say some unpleasant things to you, I even wounded you; now I will apply the remedy. I am not a believer, but, nevertheless, I appreciate the religious principle as an element of public order, and this is also the view taken by my superiors and the view taken by the Government itself. Therefore the Government cannot approve of proceedings of such a scandalous nature against one whom the people regard as a saint, proceedings which might possibly stir up disorder. But that is not all! We know that you stand in high favour with the Pope, who sees you often. Now the ‘powers that be’ have no desire to cause the Pope any personal annoyance. They have the good intention to spare him this unpleasantness if possible. And it will be possible on one condition. Here in Rome you have active enemies—not on our side, not on the Liberal side, you know!—who are scheming to ruin you completely, to rob you of your reputation and everything. If you wish to know my opinion exactly, I will tell you that I think, from a Catholic point of view, they are right. I modify somewhat, for my use and for theirs, the famous motto of the Jesuits, ‘Aut sint ut sunt,’’ and I make it, ‘Aut non erunt.‘ They tell me you are a Liberal Catholic. That simply means that you are not a Catholic. But let us proceed. Your enemies have denounced you to the Public Prosecutor, and it would be our duty to send the carabinieri to arrest Signor Pietro Maironi, condemned, in his absence, by the Assize Court at Brescia, for having failed to serve on a jury when summoned. But that is a slight matter. You imagine you healed some people at Jenne, and you are accused not only of practising medicine unlawfully, but even of having poisoned a patient—nothing less! Now we have the means of saving you. We will manage to hush up this accusation. But if you remain in Rome, your enemies here will make so much noise that it will be impossible for us to feign deafness. You must go away to some distant place, and go at once! It would be better to go out of Italy. Try France, where there is a famine of saintliness. Or, at least—do you not own a house on Lake Lugano? There are some sisters in it now, are there not? Sisters and saints go extremely well together. Join the sisters, and let this storm blow over.”
The Commendatore spoke very slowly, very seriously, hiding his irony under an indifference which was even more insolent.
Benedetto rose, resolute and severe.