The Gadfly raised his eyes to the crucifix on the wall. “'Not peace, but a sword';—at l-least I should be in good company. For my own part, though, I prefer pistols.”
“Signor Rivarez,” said the Cardinal with unruffled composure, “I have not insulted you as yet, or spoken slightingly of your beliefs or friends. May I not expect the same courtesy from you, or do you wish me to suppose that an atheist cannot be a gentleman?”
“Ah, I q-quite forgot. Your Eminence places courtesy high among the Christian virtues. I remember your sermon in Florence, on the occasion of my c-controversy with your anonymous defender.”
“That is one of the subjects about which I wished to speak to you. Would you mind explaining to me the reason of the peculiar bitterness you seem to feel against me? If you have simply picked me out as a convenient target, that is another matter. Your methods of political controversy are your own affair, and we are not discussing politics now. But I fancied at the time that there was some personal animosity towards me; and if so, I should be glad to know whether I have ever done you wrong or in any way given you cause for such a feeling.”
Ever done him wrong! The Gadfly put up the bandaged hand to his throat. “I must refer Your Eminence to Shakspere,” he said with a little laugh. “It's as with the man who can't endure a harmless, necessary cat. My antipathy is a priest. The sight of the cassock makes my t-t-teeth ache.”
“Oh, if it is only that——” Montanelli dismissed the subject with an indifferent gesture.
“Still,” he added, “abuse is one thing and perversion of fact is another. When you stated, in answer to my sermon, that I knew the identity of the anonymous writer, you made a mistake,—I do not accuse you of wilful falsehood,—and stated what was untrue. I am to this day quite ignorant of his name.”
The Gadfly put his head on one side, like an intelligent robin, looked at him for a moment gravely, then suddenly threw himself back and burst into a peal of laughter.
“S-s-sancta simplicitas! Oh, you, sweet, innocent, Arcadian people—and you never guessed! You n-never saw the cloven hoof?”
Montanelli stood up. “Am I to understand, Signor Rivarez, that you wrote both sides of the controversy yourself?”