THE FOOL ERRANT - World eBook Library - World Public Library

won't find them any more to your liking."
"I shall leave Florence," I told her, "so soon as I am assured of Aurelia's escape from it." I heard her sniff of scorn, but did not
care to reprove her.
It was not so easy to leave it as to reach it, I found out. I had not been two hours in my chosen lodging—a decent place enough
—before I had a visit from the Holy Office. The terrified landlord ushered three clerics into my room: two of them Dominicans
with forms as big as flags to be filled up from my papers! The reader knows that I had no papers. The only passport I had ever
had was destroyed; I had no calling but that of pilgrim, with which, as I could not but see, Virginia's presence consorted oddly;
and the objects of my pilgrimage, as I had learned by painful experience, were not such as would commend themselves to the
Inquisition. But while I hesitated, Virginia jumped headlong into the breach.
A flush of seraphic mildness suffused her cheeks, her eyes sparkled like diamonds upon a Madonna's crown, she crossed her
arms over her bosom and bowed her head. "Most reverend sirs," she said, "you see before you two innocents whose only faults
are youth and ardent imagination. Attracted by the splendour of these shrines—pilgrims to the holy places— travellers hopeful
of Heaven's gate—-"
The elder of the two Dominicans, a pock-marked, long-faced, bitter man, at once said that he saw before him nothing of the
kind. "We see," he continued, "a young man of foreign aspect, obviously confused, and you, my girl, who are too glib by half. If
you can prove your innocence to our satisfaction we shall be agreeably surprised."
Virginia, thus rudely checked in what would no doubt have proved a generous career of falsehood, shuddered and bit her lip.
Her crossed arms relaxed, but her fists clenched themselves. She frowned and looked dangerous. My temper none of the best,
I took a step forward and addressed the company.
"Sirs," I said plainly, "my passport is lost, and as it was a false one it would have availed me nothing. I shall tell you the truth—
that I am by birth an Englishman of your own religion, and was until lately a student of Padua. While there I had the fortunate
misfortune to be subjugated by the charms of my tutor's lovely wife—fortunate in that she raised my soul to the heights, horribly
unfortunate in that I (presumptuous wretch!) dared to draw her down into peril. You may spare your reproaches, for I assure
you they cannot sharpen mine. She suffered undeservedly, and I am vowed to her satisfaction. I have entered your master's
dominions, without objection, in pursuit of a pious intention, that, namely, of making amends to a virtuous and innocent lady. I
have brought this young woman with me—a Tuscan, who needs no passport, I believe—under the influence of another pious
intention. She has been in danger of ruin, and I believe I have saved her from it. I do not disguise from you, as you see, that I
have sinned very grievously; but I ask you to accept my assurance that I am on the road to repentance. If you choose to apply
to the accredited Minister of my country you will no doubt receive satisfactory evidence of my standing in the world.
Whatsoever I may deserve from her against whom I have trespassed, I have done no harm to you or your master. I am not
accustomed to have my word doubted, and shall take no steps at all to support it from outside. I wish you very well, and beg
you to excuse me. I am but newly come to Florence, and confess to fatigue."
I ended here, because I saw that further discussion would be fruitless. The officers, it is true, had listened to me gravely, without
any kind of expression; their eyes had been fixed upon the floor, or the wall; they might have been statues. But at the close of
my periods, one of them, a stout, breathless and foolish-looking priest, asked me, as if I had said nothing at all, "But where are
your papers?"
Virginia gave a sharp cry, and I was certainly taken aback. "Reverend sir," I said, as calmly as I was able, "I had hoped to have
explained—- "
The pock-marked Dominican took up the tale. "It is true, you have explained; but you have not produced your papers.
Explanations apart from papers are of little or no value."
"Explanations," said I, "of the absence of papers are surely more valuable than the absence of papers and explanations alike. I
repeat that my own passport is lost, and that my companion needs none."
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