"Padre, come away with us! What have you
to do with this dead world of priests and idols?
They are full of the dust of bygone ages; they are
rotten; they are pestilent and foul! Come out of
this plague-stricken Church--come away with us
into the light! Padre, it is we that are life and
youth; it is we that are the everlasting springtime;
it is we that are the future! Padre, the dawn is
close upon us--will you miss your part in the sunrise?
Wake up, and let us forget the horrible
nightmares,--wake up, and we will begin our life
again! Padre, I have always loved you--always,
even when you killed me--will you kill me again?"
Montanelli tore his hands away. "Oh, God
have mercy on me!" he cried out. "YOU HAVE
YOUR MOTHER'S EYES!"
A strange silence, long and deep and sudden, fell
upon them both. In the gray twilight they
looked at each other, and their hearts stood still
with fear.
"Have you anything more to say?" Montanelli
whispered. "Any--hope to give me?"
"No. My life is of no use to me except to
fight priests.
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