the uncommercial traveller-第58部分

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had　not　the　least　fear　of　being　considered　a　bore；　in　a　good　humane

cause。　　So　he　went　on　persistently　trying；　and　trying；　and　trying；

to　get　Giovanni　Carlavero　out。　　That　prisoner　had　been　rigorously

re…chained；　after　the　tumour　operation；　and　it　was　not　likely　that

his　miserable　life　could　last　very　long。



One　day；　when　all　the　town　knew　about　the　Englishman　and　his

political　prisoner；　there　came　to　the　Englishman；　a　certain

sprightly　Italian　Advocate　of　whom　he　had　some　knowledge；　and　he

made　this　strange　proposal。　　'Give　me　a　hundred　pounds　to　obtain

Carlavero's　release。　　I　think　I　can　get　him　a　pardon；　with　that

money。　　But　I　cannot　tell　you　what　I　am　going　to　do　with　the　money；

nor　must　you　ever　ask　me　the　question　if　I　succeed；　nor　must　you

ever　ask　me　for　an　account　of　the　money　if　I　fail。'　　The　Englishman

decided　to　hazard　the　hundred　pounds。　　He　did　so；　and　heard　not

another　word　of　the　matter。　　For　half　a　year　and　more；　the　Advocate

made　no　sign；　and　never　once　'took　on'　in　any　way；　to　have　the

subject　on　his　mind。　　The　Englishman　was　then　obliged　to　change　his

residence　to　another　and　more　famous　town　in　the　North　of　Italy。

He　parted　from　the　poor　prisoner　with　a　sorrowful　heart；　as　from　a

doomed　man　for　whom　there　was　no　release　but　Death。



The　Englishman　lived　in　his　new　place　of　abode　another　half…year

and　more；　and　had　no　tidings　of　the　wretched　prisoner。　　At　length；

one　day；　he　received　from　the　Advocate　a　cool；　concise；　mysterious

note；　to　this　effect。　　'If　you　still　wish　to　bestow　that　benefit

upon　the　man　in　whom　you　were　once　interested；　send　me　fifty　pounds

more；　and　I　think　it　can　be　ensured。'　　Now；　the　Englishman　had　long

settled　in　his　mind　that　the　Advocate　was　a　heartless　sharper；　who

had　preyed　upon　his　credulity　and　his　interest　in　an　unfortunate

sufferer。　　So；　he　sat　down　and　wrote　a　dry　answer；　giving　the

Advocate　to　understand　that　he　was　wiser　now　than　he　had　been

formerly；　and　that　no　more　money　was　extractable　from　his　pocket。



He　lived　outside　the　city　gates；　some　mile　or　two　from　the　post…

office；　and　was　accustomed　to　walk　into　the　city　with　his　letters

and　post　them　himself。　　On　a　lovely　spring　day；　when　the　sky　was

exquisitely　blue；　and　the　sea　Divinely　beautiful；　he　took　his　usual

walk；　carrying　this　letter　to　the　Advocate　in　his　pocket。　　As　he

went　along；　his　gentle　heart　was　much　moved　by　the　loveliness　of

the　prospect；　and　by　the　thought　of　the　slowly　dying　prisoner

chained　to　the　bedstead；　for　whom　the　universe　had　no　delights。　　As

he　drew　nearer　and　nearer　to　the　city　where　he　was　to　post　the

letter；　he　became　very　uneasy　in　his　mind。　　He　debated　with

himself；　was　it　remotely　possible；　after　all；　that　this　sum　of

fifty　pounds　could　restore　the　fellow…creature　whom　he　pitied　so

much；　and　for　whom　he　had　striven　so　hard；　to　liberty？　　He　was　not

a　conventionally　rich　Englishman　…　very　far　from　that　…　but；　he　had

a　spare　fifty　pounds　at　the　banker's。　　He　resolved　to　risk　it。

Without　doubt；　GOD　has　recompensed　him　for　the　resolution。



He　went　to　the　banker's；　and　got　a　bill　for　the　amount；　and

enclosed　it　in　a　letter　to　the　Advocate　that　I　wish　I　could　have

seen。　　He　simply　told　the　Advocate　that　he　was　quite　a　poor　man；

and　that　he　was　sensible　it　might　be　a　great　weakness　in　him　to

part　with　so　much　money　on　the　faith　of　so　vague　a　communication；

but；　that　there　it　was；　and　that　he　prayed　the　Advocate　to　make　a

good　use　of　it。　　If　he　did　otherwise　no　good　could　ever　come　of　it；

and　it　would　lie　heavy　on　his　soul　one　day。



Within　a　week；　the　Englishman　was　sitting　at　his　breakfast；　when　he

heard　some　suppressed　sounds　of　agitation　on　the　staircase；　and

Giovanni　Carlavero　leaped　into　the　room　and　fell　upon　his　breast；　a

free　man！



Conscious　of　having　wronged　the　Advocate　in　his　own　thoughts；　the

Englishman　wrote　him　an　earnest　and　grateful　letter；　avowing　the

fact；　and　entreating　him　to　confide　by　what　means　and　through　what

agency　he　had　succeeded　so　well。　　The　Advocate　returned　for　answer

through　the　post；　'There　are　many　things；　as　you　know；　in　this

Italy　of　ours；　that　are　safest　and　best　not　even　spoken　of　…　far

less　written　of。　　We　may　meet　some　day；　and　then　I　may　tell　you

what　you　want　to　know；　not　here；　and　now。'　　But；　the　two　never　did

meet　again。　　The　Advocate　was　dead　when　the　Englishman　gave　me　my

trust；　and　how　the　man　had　been　set　free；　remained　as　great　a

mystery　to　the　Englishman；　and　to　the　man　himself；　as　it　was　to　me。



But；　I　knew　this：…　here　was　the　man；　this　sultry　night；　on　his

knees　at　my　feet；　because　I　was　the　Englishman's　friend；　here　were

his　tears　upon　my　dress；　here　were　his　sobs　choking　his　utterance；

here　were　his　kisses　on　my　hands；　because　they　had　touched　the

hands　that　had　worked　out　his　release。　　He　had　no　need　to　tell　me

it　would　be　happiness　to　him　to　die　for　his　benefactor；　I　doubt　if

I　ever　saw　real；　sterling；　fervent　gratitude　of　soul；　before　or

since。



He　was　much　watched　and　suspected；　he　said；　and　had　had　enough　to

do　to　keep　himself　out　of　trouble。　　This；　and　his　not　having

prospered　in　his　worldly　affairs；　had　led　to　his　having　failed　in

his　usual　communications　to　the　Englishman　for　…　as　I　now　remember

the　period　…　some　two　or　three　years。　　But；　his　prospects　were

brighter；　and　his　wife　who　had　been　very　ill　had　recovered；　and　his

fever　had　left　him；　and　he　had　bought　a　little　vineyard；　and　would

I　carry　to　his　benefactor　the　first　of　its　wine？　　Ay；　that　I　would

（I　told　him　with　enthusiasm）；　and　not　a　drop　of　it　should　be

spilled　or　lost！



He　had　cautiously　closed　the　door　before　speaking　of　himself；　and

had　talked　with　such　excess　of　emotion；　and　in　a　provincial　Italian

so　difficult　to　understand；　that　I　had　more　than　once　been　obliged

to　stop　him；　and　beg　him　to　have　compassion　on　me　and　be　slower　and

calmer。　　By　degrees　he　became　so；　and　tranquilly　walked　back　with

me　to　the　hotel。　　There；　I　sat　down　before　I　went　to　bed　and　wrote

a　faithful　account　of　him　to　the　Englishman：　　which　I　concluded　by

saying　that　I　would　bring　the　wine　home；　against　any　difficulties；

every　drop。



Early　next　morning；　when　I　came　out　at　the　hotel　door　to　pursue　my

journey；　I　found　my　friend　waiting　with　one　of　those　immense

bottles　in　which　the　Italian　peasants　store　their　wine　…　a　bottle

holding　some　half…dozen　gallons　…　bound　round　with　basket…work　for

greater　safety　on　the　journey。　　I　see　him　now；　in　the　bright

sunshine；　tears　of　gratitude　in　his　eyes；　proudly　inviting　my

attention　to　this　corpulent　bottle。　　（At　the　street…comer　hard　by；

two　high…flavoured；　able…bodied　monks　…　pretending　to　talk

together；　but　keeping　their　four　evil　eyes　upon　us。）



How　the　bottle　had　been　got　there；　did　not　appear；　but　the

difficulty　of　getting　it　into　the　ramshackle　vetturino　carriage　in

which　I　was　departing；　was　so　great；　and　it　took　up　so　much　room

when　it　was　got　in；　that　I　elected　to　sit　outside。　　The　last　I　saw

of