The sailor handed him a pitcher, some hard biscuit, and a piece of salt pork.
"Now mind, you must hide in this empty barrel, here, when the customs officers come to examine to-morrow morning.
Keep as still as a mouse till we're right out at sea.
I'll let you know when to come out.
And won't you just catch it when the captain sees you--that's all!
Got the drink safe?
Good-night!"
The hatchway closed, and Arthur, setting the precious "drink" in a safe place, climbed on to an oil barrel to eat his pork and biscuit.
Then he curled himself up on the dirty floor; and, for the first time since his babyhood, settled himself to sleep without a prayer.
The rats scurried round him in the darkness; but neither their persistent noise nor the swaying of the ship, nor the nauseating stench of oil, nor the prospect of to-morrow's sea-sickness, could keep him awake.
He cared no more for them all than for the broken and dishonoured idols that only yesterday had been the gods of his adoration.
PART II. ----------
THIRTEEN YEARS LATER. ----------
CHAPTER I.
ONE evening in July, 1846, a few acquaintances met at Professor Fabrizi's house in Florence to discuss plans for future political work.
Several of them belonged to the Mazzinian party and would have been satisfied with nothing less than a democratic Republic and a United Italy.
Others were Constitutional Monarchists and Liberals of various shades.
On one point, however, they were all agreed; that of dissatisfaction with the Tuscan censorship; and the popular professor had called the meeting in the hope that, on this one subject at least, the representatives of the dissentient parties would be able to get through an hour's discussion without quarrelling.
Only a fortnight had elapsed since the famous amnesty which Pius IX. had granted, on his accession, to political offenders in the Papal States; but the wave of liberal enthusiasm caused by it was already spreading over Italy.
In Tuscany even the government appeared to have been affected by the astounding event.
It had occurred to Fabrizi and a few other leading Florentines that this was a propitious moment for a bold effort to reform the press-laws.
"Of course," the dramatist Lega had said, when the subject was first broached to him; "it would be impossible to start a newspaper till we can get the press-law changed; we should not bring out the first number.
But we may be able to run some pamphlets through the censorship already; and the sooner we begin the sooner we shall get the law changed."
He was now explaining in Fabrizi's library his theory of the line which should be taken by liberal writers at the moment.
"There is no doubt," interposed one of the company, a gray-haired barrister with a rather drawling manner of speech, "that in some way we must take advantage of the moment. We shall not see such a favourable one again for bringing forward serious reforms.
But I doubt the pamphlets doing any good.
They will only irritate and frighten the government instead of winning it over to our side, which is what we really want to do.
If once the authorities begin to think of us as dangerous agitators our chance of getting their help is gone."
"Then what would you have us do?"
"Petition."
"To the Grand Duke?"
"Yes; for an augmentation of the liberty of the press."
A keen-looking, dark man sitting by the window turned his head round with a laugh.
"You'll get a lot out of petitioning!" he said. "I should have thought the result of the Renzi case was enough to cure anybody of going to work that way."
"My dear sir, I am as much grieved as you are that we did not succeed in preventing the extradition of Renzi.
But really--I do not wish to hurt the sensibilities of anyone, but I cannot help thinking that our failure in that case was largely due to the impatience and vehemence of some persons among our number.
I should certainly hesitate----"
"As every Piedmontese always does," the dark man interrupted sharply. "I don't know where the vehemence and impatience lay, unless you found them in the strings of meek petitions we sent in.
That may be vehemence for Tuscany or Piedmont, but we should not call it particularly vehement in Naples."
"Fortunately," remarked the Piedmontese, "Neapolitan vehemence is peculiar to Naples."
"There, there, gentlemen, that will do!" the professor put in.
"Neapolitan customs are very good things in their way and Piedmontese customs in theirs; but just now we are in Tuscany, and the Tuscan custom is to stick to the matter in hand.
Grassini votes for petitions and Galli against them.
What do you think, Dr. Riccardo?"
"I see no harm in petitions, and if Grassini gets one up I'll sign it with all the pleasure in life. But I don't think mere petitioning and nothing else will accomplish much.
Why can't we have both petitions and pamphlets?"
"Simply because the pamphlets will put the government into a state of mind in which it won't grant the petitions," said Grassini.
"It won't do that anyhow." The Neapolitan rose and came across to the table. "Gentlemen, you're on the wrong tack.
Conciliating the government will do no good.
What we must do is to rouse the people."