CHAPTER VII.
THE court-martial was held on Tuesday morning. It was a very short andsimple affair; a mere formality, occupying barely twenty minutes. Therewas, indeed, nothing to spend much time over; no defence was allowed,and the only witnesses were the wounded spy and officer and a fewsoldiers. The sentence was drawn up beforehand; Montanelli had sent inthe desired informal consent; and the judges (Colonel Ferrari, the localmajor of dragoons, and two officers of the Swiss guards) had little todo. The indictment was read aloud, the witnesses gave their evidence,and the signatures were affixed to the sentence, which was then read tothe condemned man with befitting solemnity. He listened in silence; andwhen asked, according to the usual form, whether he had anything to say,merely waved the question aside with an impatient movement of his hand.Hidden on his breast was the handkerchief which Montanelli had let fall.It had been kissed and wept over all night, as though it were a livingthing. Now he looked wan and spiritless, and the traces of tears werestill about his eyelids; but the words: "to be shot," did not seem toaffect him much. When they were uttered, the pupils of his eyes dilated,but that was all.
"Take him back to his cell," the Governor said, when all the formalitieswere over; and the sergeant, who was evidently near to breaking down,touched the motionless figure on the shoulder. The Gadfly looked roundhim with a little start.
"Ah, yes!" he said. "I forgot."
There was something almost like pity in the Governor's face. He was nota cruel man by nature, and was secretly a little ashamed of the parthe had been playing during the last month. Now that his main point wasgained he was willing to make every little concession in his power.
"You needn't put the irons on again," he said, glancing at the bruisedand swollen wrists. "And he can stay in his own cell. The condemned cellis wretchedly dark and gloomy," he added, turning to his nephew; "andreally the thing's a mere formality."
He coughed and shifted his feet in evident embarrassment; then calledback the sergeant, who was leaving the room with his prisoner.
"Wait, sergeant; I want to speak to him."
The Gadfly did not move, and the Governor's voice seemed to fall onunresponsive ears.
"If you have any message you would like conveyed to your friends orrelatives---- You have relatives, I suppose?"
There was no answer.
"Well, think it over and tell me, or the priest. I will see it is notneglected. You had better give your messages to the priest; he shallcome at once, and stay the night with you. If there is any otherwish----"
The Gadfly looked up.
"Tell the priest I would rather be alone. I have no friends and nomessages."
"But you will want to confess."
"I am an atheist. I want nothing but to be left in peace."
He said it in a dull, quiet voice, without defiance or irritation; andturned slowly away. At the door he stopped again.
"I forgot, colonel; there is a favour I wanted to ask. Don't let themtie me or bandage my eyes to-morrow, please. I will stand quite still."
*****
At sunrise on Wednesday morning they brought him out into the courtyard.His lameness was more than usually apparent, and he walked with evidentdifficulty and pain, leaning heavily on the sergeant's arm; but all theweary submission had gone out of his face. The spectral terrors thathad crushed him down in the empty silence, the visions and dreams of theworld of shadows, were gone with the night which gave them birth; andonce the sun was shining and his enemies were present to rouse thefighting spirit in him, he was not afraid.
The six carabineers who had been told off for the execution were drawnup in line against the ivied wall; the same crannied and crumbling walldown which he had climbed on the night of his unlucky attempt. Theycould hardly refrain from weeping as they stood together, each man withhis carbine in his hand. It seemed to them a horror beyond imaginationthat they should be called out to kill the Gadfly. He and his stingingrepartees, his perpetual laughter, his bright, infectious courage, hadcome into their dull and dreary lives like a wandering sunbeam; and thathe should die, and at their hands, was to them as the darkening of theclear lamps of heaven.
Under the great fig-tree in the courtyard, his grave was waiting forhim. It had been dug in the night by unwilling hands; and tears hadfallen on the spade. As he passed he looked down, smiling, at the blackpit and the withering grass beside it; and drew a long breath, to smellthe scent of the freshly turned earth.
Near the tree the sergeant stopped short, and the Gadfly looked roundwith his brightest smile.
"Shall I stand here, sergeant?"
The man nodded silently; there was a lump in his throat, and hecould not have spoken to save his life. The Governor, his nephew, thelieutenant of carabineers who was to command, a doctor and a priestwere already in the courtyard, and came forward with grave faces, halfabashed under the radiant defiance of the Gadfly's laughing eyes.
"G-good morning, gentlemen! Ah, and his reverence is up so early, too!How do you do, captain? This is a pleasanter occasion for you than ourformer meeting, isn't it? I see your arm is still in a sling;that's because I bungled my work. These good fellows will do theirsbetter--won't you, lads?"
He glanced round at the gloomy faces of the carabineers.
"There'll be no need of slings this time, any way. There, there, youneedn't look so doleful over it! Put your heels together and show howstraight you can shoot. Before long there'll be more work cut outfor you than you'll know how to get through, and there's nothing likepractice beforehand."
"My son," the priest interrupted, coming forward, while the others drewback to leave them alone together; "in a few minutes you must enter intothe presence of your Maker. Have you no other use but this for theselast moments that are left you for repentance? Think, I entreat you,how dreadful a thing it is to die without absolution, with all your sinsupon your head. When you stand before your Judge it will be too late torepent. Will you approach His awful throne with a jest upon your lips?"
"A jest, your reverence? It is your side that needs that little homily,I think. When our turn comes we shall use field-guns instead of half adozen second-hand carbines, and then you'll see how much we're in jest."
"YOU will use field-guns! Oh, unhappy man! Have you still not realizedon what frightful brink you stand?"
The Gadfly glanced back over his shoulder at the open grave.
"And s-s-so your reverence thinks that, when you have put me down there,you will have done with me? Perhaps you will lay a stone on the top topre-v-vent a r-resurrection 'after three days'? No fear, your reverence!I shan't poach on the monopoly in cheap theatricals; I shall lie asstill as a m-mouse, just where you put me. And all the same, WE shalluse field-guns."
"Oh, merciful God," the priest cried out; "forgive this wretched man!"
"Amen!" murmured the lieutenant of carabineers, in a deep bass growl,while the colonel and his nephew crossed themselves devoutly.
As there was evidently no hope of further insistence producing anyeffect, the priest gave up the fruitless attempt and moved aside,shaking his head and murmuring a prayer. The short and simplepreparations were made without more delay, and the Gadfly placed himselfin the required position, only turning his head to glance up for amoment at the red and yellow splendour of the sunrise. He had repeatedthe request that his eyes might not be bandaged, and his defiant facehad wrung from the colonel a reluctant consent. They had both forgottenwhat they were inflicting on the soldiers.
He stood and faced them, smiling, and the carbines shook in their hands.
"I am quite ready," he said.
The lieutenant stepped forward, trembling a little with excitement. Hehad never given the word of command for an execution before.
"Ready--present--fire!"
The Gadfly staggered a little and recovered his balance. One unsteadyshot had grazed his cheek, and a little blood fell on to the whitecravat. Another ball had struck him above the knee. When the smokecleared away the soldiers looked and saw hi
m smiling still and wipingthe blood from his cheek with the mutilated hand.
"A bad shot, men!" he said; and his voice cut in, clear and articulate,upon the dazed stupor of the wretched soldiers. "Have another try."
A general groan and shudder passed through the row of carabineers. Eachman had aimed aside, with a secret hope that the death-shot would comefrom his neighbour's hand, not his; and there the Gadfly stood andsmiled at them; they had only turned the execution into a butchery, andthe whole ghastly business was to do again. They were seized with suddenterror, and, lowering their carbines, listened hopelessly to the furiouscurses and reproaches of the officers, staring in dull horror at the manwhom they had killed and who somehow was not dead.
The Governor shook his fist in their faces, savagely shouting to themto stand in position, to present arms, to make haste and get the thingover. He had become as thoroughly demoralized as they were, and darednot look at the terrible figure that stood, and stood, and would notfall. When the Gadfly spoke to him he started and shuddered at the soundof the mocking voice.
"You have brought out the awkward squad this morning, colonel! Let mesee if I can manage them better. Now, men! Hold your tool higher there,you to the left. Bless your heart, man, it's a carbine you've gotin your hand, not a frying-pan! Are you all straight? Now then!Ready--present----"
"Fire!" the colonel interrupted, starting forward. It was intolerablethat this man should give the command for his own death.
There was another confused, disorganized volley, and the line broke upinto a knot of shivering figures, staring before them with wild eyes.One of the soldiers had not even discharged his carbine; he had flung itaway, and crouched down, moaning under his breath: "I can't--I can't!"
The smoke cleared slowly away, floating up into the glimmer of the earlysunlight; and they saw that the Gadfly had fallen; and saw, too, that hewas still not dead. For the first moment soldiers and officials stoodas if they had been turned to stone, and watched the ghastly thing thatwrithed and struggled on the ground; then both doctor and colonel rushedforward with a cry, for he had dragged himself up on one knee and wasstill facing the soldiers, and still laughing.
"Another miss! Try--again, lads--see--if you can't----"
He suddenly swayed and fell over sideways on the grass.
"Is he dead?" the colonel asked under his breath; and the doctor,kneeling down, with a hand on the bloody shirt, answered softly:
"I think so--God be praised!"
"God be praised!" the colonel repeated. "At last!"
His nephew was touching him on the arm.
"Uncle! It's the Cardinal! He's at the gate and wants to come in."
"What? He can't come in--I won't have it! What are the guards about?Your Eminence----"
The gate had opened and shut, and Montanelli was standing in thecourtyard, looking before him with still and awful eyes.
"Your Eminence! I must beg of you--this is not a fit sight for you! Theexecution is only just over; the body is not yet----"
"I have come to look at him," Montanelli said. Even at the momentit struck the Governor that his voice and bearing were those of asleep-walker.
"Oh, my God!" one of the soldiers cried out suddenly; and the Governorglanced hastily back. Surely------
The blood-stained heap on the grass had once more begun to struggle andmoan. The doctor flung himself down and lifted the head upon his knee.
"Make haste!" he cried in desperation. "You savages, make haste! Get itover, for God's sake! There's no bearing this!"
Great jets of blood poured over his hands, and the convulsions of thefigure that he held in his arms shook him, too, from head to foot. As helooked frantically round for help, the priest bent over his shoulder andput a crucifix to the lips of the dying man.
"In the name of the Father and of the Son----"
The Gadfly raised himself against the doctor's knee, and, with wide-openeyes, looked straight upon the crucifix.
Slowly, amid hushed and frozen stillness, he lifted the broken righthand and pushed away the image. There was a red smear across its face.
"Padre--is your--God--satisfied?"
His head fell back on the doctor's arm.
*****
"Your Eminence!"
As the Cardinal did not awake from his stupor, Colonel Ferrari repeated,louder:
"Your Eminence!"
Montanelli looked up.
"He is dead."
"Quite dead, your Eminence. Will you not come away? This is a horriblesight."
"He is dead," Montanelli repeated, and looked down again at the face. "Itouched him; and he is dead."
"What does he expect a man to be with half a dozen bullets in him?" thelieutenant whispered contemptuously; and the doctor whispered back. "Ithink the sight of the blood has upset him."
The Governor put his hand firmly on Montanelli's arm.
"Your Eminence--you had better not look at him any longer. Will youallow the chaplain to escort you home?"
"Yes--I will go."
He turned slowly from the blood-stained spot and walked away, the priestand sergeant following. At the gate he paused and looked back, with aghostlike, still surprise.
"He is dead."
*****
A few hours later Marcone went up to a cottage on the hillside to tellMartini that there was no longer any need for him to throw away hislife.
All the preparations for a second attempt at rescue were ready, as theplot was much more simple than the former one. It had been arranged thaton the following morning, as the Corpus Domini procession passed alongthe fortress hill, Martini should step forward out of the crowd, draw apistol from his breast, and fire in the Governor's face. In the momentof wild confusion which would follow twenty armed men were to make asudden rush at the gate, break into the tower, and, taking the turnkeywith them by force, to enter the prisoner's cell and carry him bodilyaway, killing or overpowering everyone who interfered with them. Fromthe gate they were to retire fighting, and cover the retreat of a secondband of armed and mounted smugglers, who would carry him off into a safehiding-place in the hills. The only person in the little group who knewnothing of the plan was Gemma; it had been kept from her at Martini'sspecial desire. "She will break her heart over it soon enough," he hadsaid.
As the smuggler came in at the garden gate Martini opened the glass doorand stepped out on to the verandah to meet him.
"Any news, Marcone? Ah!"
The smuggler had pushed back his broad-brimmed straw hat.
They sat down together on the verandah. Not a word was spoken on eitherside. From the instant when Martini had caught sight of the face underthe hat-brim he had understood.
"When was it?" he asked after a long pause; and his own voice, in hisears, was as dull and wearisome as everything else.
"This morning, at sunrise. The sergeant told me. He was there and sawit."
Martini looked down and flicked a stray thread from his coat-sleeve.
Vanity of vanities; this also is vanity. He was to have died to-morrow.And now the land of his heart's desire had vanished, like the fairylandof golden sunset dreams that fades away when the darkness comes; and hewas driven back into the world of every day and every night--theworld of Grassini and Galli, of ciphering and pamphleteering, of partysquabbles between comrades and dreary intrigues among Austrian spies--ofthe old revolutionary mill-round that maketh the heart sick. Andsomewhere down at the bottom of his consciousness there was a greatempty place; a place that nothing and no one would fill any more, nowthat the Gadfly was dead.
Someone was asking him a question, and he raised his head, wonderingwhat could be left that was worth the trouble of talking about.
"What did you say?"
"I was saying that of course you will break the news to her."
Life, and all the horror of life, came back into Martini's face.
"How can I tell her?" he cried out. "You might as well ask me to go andstab her. Oh, how can I tell her--how can I!"
He had clasped both hands over his eyes; but, without seeing, he feltthe smuggler start beside him, and looked up. Gemma was standing in thedoorway.
"Have you heard, Cesare?" she said. "It is all over. They have shothim."