A Foregone Conclusion | Page 4

full enjoyment of the poetic power of his invention, and
no doubt had before his eyes a vivid picture of a score of secessionists
surprised and blown to atoms in the very moment of triumph. "Behold,
Signor Console!" he said.
"It's certainly very curious," said Mr. Ferris, turning the fearful toy over
in his hand, and admiring the neat workmanship of it. "Did you make

this model yourself?"
"Surely," answered the priest, with a joyous pride; "I have no money to
spend upon artisans; and besides, as you might infer, signore, I am not
very well seen by my superiors and associates on account of these little
amusements of mine; so keep them as much as I can to myself." Don
Ippolito laughed nervously, and then fell silent with his eyes intent
upon the consul's face. "What do you think, signore?" he presently
resumed. "If this invention were brought to the notice of your generous
government, would it not patronize my labors? I have read that
America is the land of enterprises. Who knows but your government
might invite me to take service under it in some capacity in which I
could employ those little gifts that Heaven "--He paused again,
apparently puzzled by the compassionate smile on the consul's lips."
But tell me, signore, how this invention appears to you." "Have you had
any practical experience in gunnery?" asked Mr. Ferris.
"Why, certainly not."
"Neither have I," continued Mr. Ferris, "but I was wondering whether
the explosive in this secret chamber would not become so heated by the
frequent discharges of the piece as to go off prematurely sometimes,
and kill our own artillerymen instead of waiting for the secessionists?"
Don Ippolito's countenance fell, and a dull shame displaced the
exultation that had glowed in it. His head sunk on his breast, and he
made no attempt at reply, so that it was again Mr. Ferris who spoke.
"You see, I don't really know anything more of the matter than you do,
and I don't undertake to say whether your invention is disabled by the
possibility I suggest or not. Haven't you any acquaintances among the
military, to whom you could show your model?"
"No," answered Don Ippolito, coldly, "I don't consort with the military.
Besides, what would be thought of a priest," he asked with a bitter
stress on the word, "who exhibited such an invention as that to an
officer of our paternal government?"
"I suppose it would certainly surprise the lieutenant-governor
somewhat," said Mr. Ferris with a laugh. "May I ask," he pursued after
an interval, "whether you have occupied yourself with other
inventions?"
"I have attempted a great many," replied Don Ippolito in a tone of
dejection.

"Are they all of this warlike temper?" pursued the consul.
"No," said Don Ippolito, blushing a little, "they are nearly all of
peaceful intention. It was the wish to produce something of utility
which set me about this cannon. Those good friends of mine who have
done me the honor of looking at my attempts had blamed me for the
uselessness of my inventions; they allowed that they were ingenious,
but they said that even if they could be put in operation, they would not
be what the world cared for. Perhaps they were right. I know very little
of the world," concluded the priest, sadly. He had risen to go, yet
seemed not quite able to do so; there was no more to say, but if he had
come to the consul with high hopes, it might well have unnerved him to
have all end so blankly. He drew a long, sibilant breath between his
shut teeth, nodded to himself thrice, and turning to Mr. Ferris with a
melancholy bow, said, "Signor Console, I thank you infinitely for your
kindness, I beg your pardon for the disturbance, and I take my leave."
"I am sorry," said Mr. Ferris. "Let us see each other again. In regard to
the inventions,--well, you must have patience." He dropped into some
proverbial phrases which the obliging Latin tongues supply so
abundantly for the races who must often talk when they do not feel like
thinking, and he gave a start when Don Ippolito replied in English,
"Yes, but hope deferred maketh the heart sick."
It was not that it was so uncommon to have Italians innocently come
out with their whole slender stock of English to him, for the sake of
practice, as they told him; but there were peculiarities in Don Ippolito's
accent for which he could not account. "What," he exclaimed, "do you
know English?"
"I have studied it a little, by my myself," answered Don Ippolito,
pleased to have his English recognized, and then lapsing into the safety
of Italian, he added, "And I had also the help of an