Familiar as he was with the history of the Holy Office, and aware as he
had always been that his steps, like those of every man upon whom
suspicion had ever fallen, were dogged by spies, he had never supposed
that his daily life had been tracked with such persistence, and so
carefully treasured up against him.
He saw his danger, and saw, too, that the course he had resolved upon in
the first hour of his arrest was the only course that could save him.
Denial would be useless. They expected it and were well prepared for it.
But it remained to be seen whether they were equally well prepared for
frank confession and adroit interpretation. To every question with
regard to acts or words he answered, "Yes, I did so,--I said
so,--but"--and then, by putting an unexpected interpretation upon it, he
either stripped it of its offensive bearing, or reduced it to an idle
jest of which nothing worse could be said than that it was indiscreet.
The fathers were puzzled. For denial they had proofs. Prevarication they
were familiar with, and never so happy as when they saw a poor,
perplexed, bewildered victim vainly struggling in the toils, driven
triumphantly from subterfuge to subterfuge, and at last, with nerveless
arms and faltering tongue, dropping hopeless upon his chair, as the
conviction forced itself upon him that he was there, not for trial, but
for condemnation.
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