The Tribulations of Tecfilo

Bruce Herald, Volume XXXI, Issue 3141, 13 February 1900, Page 2

The Tribulations of Tecfilo

• ■.-—— — — ....... I [By Gabriele P'Annuijsao.] Chapter I. : With his mind . fall of the most beautiful dteam of his life, Teofilo Bambncfai threw open his window. It was eight o'clock in the morning. Not a minute more, hot a minute less. At that hour exactly, on every day that God gave to earth, Sambuchi opened the window of his bed-chamber. That it should be otherwise Vit would be necessary to tie him down in his bed ; I for Teofilo Sambnohi was order, precision, and exactness personified. i As he threw open the window, the bright-phantoms of hiß dream glittered in the deep recesses of hiß brain. But the moment he looked out, every trace of serenity disappeared from his august brow. He pressed his lips tightly together, and turned his gaze abruptly from the place where it had been fixed. He drew tack and began to pace up and down the room with his head bent down. After two or three turns, he went back to the window, and drawing the shutter in such a way that he could not be seen, he tet himself to watoh the opposite door. It was opeo, and leaning against the chipped, worm-eaten post, was a man who might have been mistaken for a poor specimen of sculpture had it not been for the ugly face stretched out to spy now in this direction, now in that, while his greedy eyes, almost concealed under the broad brim of a greasy old hat, rolled about incessantly. For the last three mornings the man had stood in the same place— or, at least, for the last three mornings his eyes had met those of Teofilo — and that was the reason of the disappearance of serenity and peace from the face of the latter. It made no difference thai the man had not addressed a word to him, nor had given any sign of being there to work him harm. In cases of this kind, Teofilo always took the worst view, and the veriest trifle was sufficient to disturb him. He was all nerves. A greeting less cordial than usual; a smile half concealed ; a look a little sullen ; a word with doable meaning ; a look unusually serious ; a gesture, a breath, roused dark suspicions ; made him conceive God knows what knaveries, and dreams of threats, persecutions, and all kinds of villainies. Still, the reader must not imagine that Teofilo was not a highly respected person. If he is found unprepossessing the fault is miop, who should have presented him differently. Bat it is not too late to make amends. Behold over his shoulders I put his black overcoat ; somewhat old and worn, bat well brushed ; in his hand I place his chimney-pot hat and say : Ladies and gentlemen,* I have the honor of introducing Signor Teofilo Sambuchi, chief clerk of the first grade in a government office. I show him to you from every side, without and within, so that you may say that you know him thoroughly. The good man is between forty and fifty years of age, though you would not say so if you say him. His hair, it is true, is a little grizzled, but this is not noticeable. Mis whiskers are as black as ebony. His body is not ex* cessively rotund, and is firmly planted on his legs, while in his olive face there is not a wrinkle. His eyes, which are small, are black and bright his nose is large and acquiline ; his mouth is fashioned for kindness and humanity. In fine, Signor Teofilo is a good telloWf amiable with all, and full of tact, delicacy, and good nature. As I have said already, he was methodical in everything, and his greatest, perhaps his only fault, was in being over* suspicious and fearful. Toefilo was still a bachelor, not because he objected to matrimony; far from it, he held the marriage state the most desirable, legitimate and- proper in the world, £ut he had his qwq

particular kind of sell-love— who has not? — and before offering his hand to the lady destined to be his companion for life, he wished to arrive at certain ideals, without whioh he would have held himself to be less than a man. It never entered his not very capacious brain that in every condition oMife* manr may be estimable and contented, provided only he acquiesce gracefully 49 bis condition and -.look , no further. Instead, he worried day and night over an ideal, a modest one if you will, but one so difficult for him that he never succeded in reaching iti Teofilo, chief clerk of the first grade, strove to become a department secretary with a keenness of desire that nothing could blunt. Five times, at least, within the last -ien years, "he had believed that the longed-for nomination was his; for, every two years, the rolls of office were revised, and new appointments made* But he was disappointed. Like a modem Moses, the poor man ever saw the promised land, without being able to enter it.. On each new application his superiors gave him enough encouragement to keep hope alive j but .that was all. , ;- : ; ; : : Teofilo had another ideal, one more 'elevated, more noble and more splendid, which tormented him incessantly, and which might with perfect propriety be called his cross. His first and most constant aspiration, his dearest ambition, was to bear the title of Cavaliere. Without this the world would have no attraction for him ; life no reasonable end. r - Without a patent of cavaliere and a nomination to the secretaryship in his left hand, Teofilo would never have dared to offer his hand to the Signora Giannia Tirinnanza. This lady was a widow, who, originally of a lower rank than he, had risen to an equal, and, afterwards superior one, by the old, well-known tricks of office, and knew well of what -material a cavaiiere was made. Teofilo could not have endured that she should descend a step on th« ladder in becoming Signora Sambuchi. As for the reft, did public servioe coafer nobility, he would have been able to boast of all the quarterings to be imagined or desired. His father, his grandfather, perhaps his great-great-grandfather, had been government clerks, so that be was born, as it were, an official, with nomination potentially confirmed and registered. From the age of thirty or a little less, Teofilo had done the Bame thing every day, and, happy man, had never wearied thereof. It is not, then, a matter for wonder that he should have come bo do it well — for in the matter of dressing, eating, recreation and business, he was as regular as a clook* He rose, as we b aye seen, at a fixed hour ; went out at a fired hour ; went to bed at a fixed hour ; took his usual coffee in the usual place, reading the usual " Opinione," and so on, every day of his life. As for his habits, he gave no opportunity for evil tongues to wag, but passed as one of the most proper and well-conducted of men. Indeed, his timidity with the fair sex was carried to suoh a point that he did not risk a glance at the woman who passed him in the street ; and if anyone attempted to tease him about his youthful love adventures, he blushed even to the whiles of his eyes, stammered, and endeavored by every possible means to escape that which for him was a positive martyrdom. Teofilo had another peculiarity — the awe in whioh he held the police. This was implanted by Mother Nature, but it bad fed and flourished on tbe tales of cruelty and Id justice perpetrated by the police of a former age, and always, apparently to tbe prejudice of honest men, Hence it was that when he met an officer of tbe la w, he scurried away like a man who had put his foot upon a viper • and, if by ill luck, one of them chanced to stop him in order to make some inquiry, poor Teofilo, if he did not nearly faint, felt tbe blood freeze in his brain. It wast a species of terror that he could never could overcome, although he was perfectly conscious that honest people had noth? ing to fear from the police. ' But I Beem /.to hear the voice of the reader admonishing me. We all know about this Teofilo of yours. What else did be see from the window? What became of .tbe man opposite? Nothing worth mentioning, I answer. The man never moved. Teofilo, tired of watching, finished his toilet. That done, went off to his office with a vague presentiment that the unknown would bring him faome great and horrible misfortune. Chapter 11. On the evening of that day the cold wm Siberian. The sky ras black,

and from it darted little arrows of ice keen as needles. At nine o'clock Teofilo stepped oat of the cafe at whioh he had dined, at a brisker and more sprightly pace than usual, and tet out for his home at a vigorous gait. The chill air lent an unusual energy to his movements, and, besides, he was in a gay mood this evening, and lightness of bf-art kept him from feeling the cold. His gaiety waß not of the reckless, unbridled sort, but still it was such bb he had not felt for a long time. His official chief, having received his complaints for the hundredth time, had signified at last that be would really interest himself to rectify the infamous injustice that had been done, and had promised that he would speak to the Minister the next day. From the gesture, from the words, sto»d finally, from a certain significant reticence on the part of the great man, Teofilo had dimly seen that something important was preparing for him. Probably it would not be the longed-for, the Bighed-for promotion, but certainly they must have granted him something that wonld compensate him in part for the wrongs he had endured ; that would prove to all the world the great estimation in which his superiors hold him, even though he was but a poor clerk grown old in the service of the government. These thoughts led to others. "When they have made me, 1 ' be soliloquised as he neared bis home, " when they have decided to promote me. . . . Thus talking— for Teofilo had a habit of thinking with his mouth and muttering to himself —he reached the ball of his home. It was dark, long, and dirty. The concierge bad gone out on his usual visit to the public-house opposite, and had left the door closed » and the hall unlighted. In spite of the gloom, Teofilo crossed the hall with free and careless steps, and started slowly to ascend the Btairs, If it was dark io the hall, it was black as pitch on the stairs. The few lamps had either goue out through lack of oil, or no one had taken the trouble to light them, which was more probable. Another in Teofilo'a place — or he himself, had he been in a different temper — would not have Bpared a few curses at the negligent concierge. But Teofilo never thought of it. Following up his train of thought, he let the match which he carried to light his way burn down to his fingers. Finding the key in the uaual hiding place, he opened the door and entered He was in the dark, for his matches were finished, but bis step was none the less sure. In this sp«ce of a few square yards, where everything kept the same place from year to year, Teofilo could easily have found his way blindfold. He went straight toward the chest of drawers, where he was sure to find matches and c*ndle. But vben be bad taken only a few steps he almost fell on his face upon the floor. Luck, however, befriended him, and instinctively stretching out his,; arms, he grasped the table which stood in the middle of the room ; without that he never could have kept his feet. «* What is this ?" said Teofilo ; and not knowing the correct answer to the question, he began with the point of his stick to investigate the nature and substance of the obstacle which had so nearly thrown him. But in the darkness he could make nothing of it. Curiosity had made impatient; a curiosity accompanied by an agitation which was not exactly fear, but which was far removed from tranquility. In place of going around the object and thus gaining the chest of drawers where the matches were, Teofilo bent down and stretched out a hand to feel. Heavens ! What was this ? A thrill of indescribable terror, ran through his frame. His heart leaped and the cold perspiration started out upon his forehead ; his temples throbbed violently and his limbs began to tremble. His hand had met neither wood nor iron, brick nor cloth. That rash hand had touched a human face— cold, smooth, soft, fleshy ; it had passed through curling, tangled bair. Man or woman, sleeping or dead, there was someone lying there on the floor. The poor man, frightened, staggering as though Continued on Page 7.