Private Angelo by Eric Linklater

Author:Eric Linklater
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781847675095
Publisher: Canongate Books
Published: 1946-05-27T04:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

LORENZO, THE Count’s butler, disliked having to serve a dead man. He held the dish of spaghetti at arm’s length, and shook his head with timorous disapproval when the Count asked for wine.

The Germans had told him that his master had been shot, and never had he dared question anything which they said. He had discussed the tragedy long and lugubriously with his friends, and then put the Count away in a cupboard of his memory that he kept for those who had met a violent end. He had watched the removal of the furniture and the formal closure of the house, and no doubt remained in his mind – such as it was – that he had finished with the Count forever. He himself suffered no inconvenience, for he had been left in possession of his own quarters, at the back of the house, as a caretaker.

When the Count appeared and demanded to know what had happened, Lorenzo had been frightened out of the few wits he possessed, and had it not been for Giulia his wife the Count would have fared poorly. But Giulia had welcomed him with tears of joy and a bustle of preparation for his comfort. She had put clean sheets on her bed and contrived a shakedown in a sort of cupboard for herself and her husband; on which Lorenzo used to lie and shiver to think of the ghostly visitor in the room beyond. The Count enjoyed whatever amenities could be provided in so humble an abode, and, as he told Angelo, he had no scruple about enjoying them; for Lorenzo, despite his stupidity, had robbed him right and left for years.

It was late in the afternoon, after the Count had slept for an hour or two, when Giulia came in to tell them that if they wanted to hear Papa they had better hurry. It was half-past five, she said, and at six o’clock the Holy Father was going to speak to his people, who were now gathering like a swarm of bees, like twenty swarms and many of them carrying banners as well, in St Peter’s Square.

Immediately the Count was in a great hurry to go, for not only was he in a fine mood for thanksgiving, he said, but the Pope would assuredly give them his blessing, and in his present state he was in urgent need of benediction. So he and Angelo became part of the multitude that was going from every direction to St Peter’s. So vast a number of people filled the roads that it seemed as if, not Rome, but all the world was on its way, and in the din of voices there was high expectancy, and the host of faces of every sort and shape and variety all wore a look of exhilaration.

‘These Romans,’ said the Count complacently, ‘are a very wicked people, as most people are, and extremely proud. But every now and then they reveal their faith with a simplicity that is pure as a child’s.

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