Julia snatched the piece of paper from her husband's hand, glanced at it, and threw it at Arthur like a sassy woman. Pen % fun % Pavilion www.biquge.info

"So you're embarrassing this family!" She said sharply, "Now you can make those rabble in the city stare, you can watch the excitement!" So you're going to sit in the classroom, and you're so pious that you've fallen into such a state! We should have expected the child of the Catholic woman—"

"You can't speak a foreign language to a prisoner, ma'am." The officer interrupted her.

But Julia gushed so much that no one could hear his advice in her barrage of English.

"As we expected! Fasting, prayer, and devotional meditation. That's what I'm doing in my bones! I thought that was it, nothing would happen. ”

Dr. Warren once compared Julia to a salad in which the cook knocked over a bottle of vinegar. Her shrill, shrill voice made Arthur furious, so he suddenly remembered the analogy.

"You don't need to say that." "You don't have to be afraid of anything unpleasant, everybody knows you're not in charge," he said. Gentlemen, I think you're trying to search my things. I didn't have anything hidden. ”

The gendarmes rummaged through his room, read his letters, checked the articles he wrote at the university, emptied drawers and cabinets. He sat on the edge of the bed, blushing a little from excitement, but not at all distressed. The search did not disturb him. He always burned letters that might endanger anyone, except for a few hand-copied poems, half revolutionary, half mystical, two or three copies of the newspaper Young Italy, and the gendarmes tossed for a while and found nothing. Julia couldn't stand the uncle's repeated pleas, and finally went back to bed. With a look of disdain, she walked past Arthur, and James obediently followed.

Thomas kept pacing around the room, trying to pretend not to be impressed.

When they had gone, he went up to the officer and asked for permission to speak to the prisoner. After getting the nod of agreement, he walked up to Arthur and said in a slightly hoarse voice, "I say, this is really a very embarrassing thing. I deeply regret this. ”

Arthur looked up, his face as calm as a summer morning. "You have always been good to me," he said, "and there is nothing to regret about it." I'll be safe. ”

"Uh, Arthur!" Thomas stroked his beard vigorously and asked a difficult question. "Yes - is this about - money? Because, if it were, I-"

"It has nothing to do with money! Oh no! How is it possible with-"

"So is it some kind of political indiscretion? That's what I thought. Well, don't be discouraged - and don't mind what Julia says. It's her nasty tongue. If you need my help - cash or something - just let me know, okay? ”

Arthur silently held out his hand, and Thomas left the room. He tried to pretend that he didn't care, which made his face look cold.

By this time the gendarmes had already finished their search. The officer in charge asked Arthur to put on the clothes he had gone out in. He immediately complied, then turned and left the room. Then he suddenly hesitated, and stopped, as if it was difficult to leave his mother's prayer room in the presence of the gendarmes.

"Can you leave the room for a moment?" "You know I can't escape," he asked, "and there's nowhere to hide." ”

"I'm sorry, but it has nothing to do with that."

He walked into the prayer room, knelt down, and kissed the feet of the martyred Jesus and the base of the cross. He whispered, "Lord, let me die unto death." ”

When he stood up, the officer standing at the table was looking at Montanieri's portrait. "Is this your relative?" He asked.

"No, it's my confessed priest, the new bishop of Brisigella."

The Italian servants waited on the stairs, anxious and sad. They all loved Arthur because he and his mother were good people. They swarmed around him and kissed his hands and clothes with genuine grief.

Gian Battista stood aside, tears streaming down his gray beard. None of the Burton family came out to see him off. Their coldness accentuated the friendliness and compassion of the servants. When he clenched his outstretched hand, Arthur was about to burst into tears.

"Goodbye. Gian Batista. Kiss your child for me. Goodbye, Theresa. Pray for me, all of you! Goodbye, goodbye! ”

He hurried down the stairs to the front door. A moment later, a silent group of men and sobbing women stood in the doorway, watching the carriage drive away.

Arthur was taken into the huge medieval castle in the harbor. He found prison life quite difficult. His cell was damp and dark, and uncomfortable. But he grew up in a luxurious home on Rue Via Bora, so the airtight air and disgusting smell were nothing new to him. The food was also terrible, and the amount was not enough. But James was soon given permission to bring him the necessities of life from home. He was held in solitary confinement, and although the jailers did not monitor him as strictly as he had thought, he was unable to ascertain the reason for his arrest. However, he remained calm, and this state of mind had not changed since he entered the castle. He was not allowed to bring a book with him, so he simply prayed and meditated in prayer to pass the time, waiting for further changes in the state of affairs.

One day, a soldier opened the cell door and shouted to him: "Please go this way!" I asked two or three questions, but the answer was, "No talking!" Arthur resigned himself to his fate, following the soldier through a labyrinth of courtyards, corridors, and staircases, all somewhat musty. Then they walked into a large and bright room, where three men in military uniforms sat at a long tweed-covered table with paperwork piled up. They were lazily chatting.

When he walked in, they put on a serious look. The eldest of them looked like a playboy, with a gray-white beard and a colonel's uniform. He pointed to a chair across from him and began the pre-trial.