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Don Camillo's country, La Bassa, was hundreds of miles from Rome and he couldn't fathom
the workings of Scamoggia's city-slicker mind.
'Lead her on ?' he said. 'What do you mean ?'
'It's no joke!' shouted the Roman heartbreaker. 'When Nanni Scamoggia hits a girl in the face,
it's not without some reason. Do I look to you like the kind of man that roughs up a woman just for
the fun of it ?'
Don Camillo shook his head.
'I see. You're afraid the girl has got the idea that you're seriously interested in her.'
'Exactly.'
'You don't want to get married, is that it, and you're afraid to tell her.'
'That's it.'
Then it's perfectly simple. Just let things coast along, and in three days, when you go home,
she'll realize that she has to get over it.'
'But I won't get over it. That's the point.'
Don Camillo saw that the situation was even more complex than he had imagined.
 'In that case, I can't give you any advice,' he admitted.
'Yes, you can. You know how to think straight, and I'm counting on you. We had a long talk
last night, after it was all over. I had to explain.'
'Quite right.'
'In a few months she'll be coming to Rome as interpreter to a guided tour. And then ...' And
after a moment of hesitation he added: 'Comrade, can I trust you?:
'Just as if you were talking to your confessor.'
'I wouldn't be caught dead in the confessional!'
'Quite right,' said Don Camillo. 'Nevertheless there are priests who have died rather than
reveal the substance of a confession. If I were a priest that's the kind I'd be. So you can speak
quite freely.'
'When she comes to Rome she'd just as soon stay there, in order to be with me. Is it right for
me to encourage her?'
'No,' said Don Camillo peremptorily. 'That would be dishonourable. A Comrade Scamoggia
can't behave that way. There's a much more natural and honourable solution.'
'What's that?'
'The girl's very good at her job and probably she enjoys the favour of the Party. When we get
to Moscow she can doubtless obtain permission for you to stay here. The Soviet Union needs
men with strong convictions and technical ability. Once you've settled yourself here the rest will
be easy. You can satisfy both your heart and your conscience. Surely that's better than involving
an innocent, lovesick girl in an affair in a foreign land.'
Scamoggia's face lighted up.
'Comrade, my mind wasn't working and you've set it back on the right track. As you say, it's
all quite simple. I'm glad I unburdened myself to you.'
And after vigorously shaking Don Camillo's hand he went away.
'Lord,' said Don Camillo, 'the Comrade shepherd's job is to bring the lost sheep back to the
Party fold.'
'Not so.' said the Lord; 'that's the job of Comrade Devil !'
But perhaps this was not the Lord's voice; perhaps it was the voice of the wind howling over
the steppes. Don Camillo had to leave the question unanswered because Peppone was standing
before him.
'Why haven't you come to talk with us,' said Peppone,'instead of sitting here and staring out
of the window ?'
'Comrade,' said Don Camillo gravely.'A cell leader has a lot to do if he's to live up to his Party
responsibilities.'
 Peppone stared at him suspiciously and then shrugged his shoulders. No matter how
diabolical his enemy might be, what harm could he do shut up in a compartment of a train
travelling through Mother Russia?
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In The Jaws Of Hell
This was Peppone's great day! They had visited a tractor factory and a kolkhos and travelled
by train for twenty consecutive hours through an endless expanse of fertile, cultivated land. These
things had given them some idea of the Soviet Union's agricultural resources and industrial
efficiency, but they had not made an overwhelming impression. Indeed, a series of regrettable
accidents had tipped the balance in favour of the West. But now, Peppone reflected, all doubts
and misconceptions would be swept away; the Western point of view was doomed to annihilation.
The luxurious, ultra-modern bus in which they were driving down the broad speets of Moscow
was quite unlike the rickety vehicle in which they had been transported across the muddy roads
of the Ukraine, and around them were not thatch-roofed hovels but towering skyscrapers. Don
Camillo, the disguised representative of the Western point of view, was momentarily speechless. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]