Trivia | Page 9

to it was a gigantic rose-tree
which clambered over the house, almost smothering the windows, and
filling the air with the perfume of its sweetness. Yes, it was a fine rose,
the Conte said proudly when they praised it, and he would tell the
Signora about it. And as they sat there, drinking the wine he offered

them, he alluded with the cheerful indifference of old age to his
love-affair, as though he took for granted that they had heard of it
already.
"The lady lived across the valley there beyond that hill. I was a young
man then, for it was many years ago. I used to ride over to see her; it
was a long way, but I rode fast, for young men, as no doubt the Signora
knows, are impatient. But the lady was not kind, she would keep me
waiting, oh, for hours; and one day when I had waited very long I grew
very angry, and as I walked up and down in the garden where she had
told me she would see me, I broke one of her roses, broke a branch
from it; and when I saw what I had done, I hid it inside my
coat--so--and when I came home I planted it, and the Signora sees how
it has grown. If the Signora admires it, I must give her a cutting to plant
also in her garden; I am told the English have beautiful gardens that are
green, and not burnt with the sun like ours."
The next day, when their mended carriage had come up to fetch them,
and they were just starting to drive away from the inn, the _Conte's_
old servant appeared with the rose-cutting neatly wrapped up, and the
compliments and wishes for a buon viaggio from her master. The town
collected to see them depart, and the children ran after their carriage
through the gate of the little city. They heard a rush of feet behind them
for a few moments, but soon they were far down toward the valley; the
little town with all its noise and life was high above them on its
mountain peak.
She had planted the rose at home, where it had grown and flourished in
a wonderful manner, and every June the great mass of leaves and
shoots still broke out into a passionate splendour of scent and scarlet
colour, as if in its root and fibres there still burnt the anger and
thwarted desire of that Italian lover. Of course the old Conte must have
died many years ago; she had forgotten his name, and had even
forgotten the name of the mountain city that she had stayed in, after
first seeing it twinkling at dawn in the sky, like a nest of stars.

The Vicar of Lynch
When I heard through country gossip of the strange happening at Lynch
which had caused so great a scandal, and led to the disappearance of
the deaf old Vicar of that remote village, I collected all the reports I

could about it, for I felt that at the centre of this uncomprehending talk
and wild anecdote there was something with more meaning than a mere
sudden outbreak of blasphemy and madness.
It appeared that the old Vicar, after some years spent in the quiet
discharge of his parochial duties, had been noticed to become more and
more odd in his appearance and behaviour; and it was also said that he
had gradually introduced certain alterations into the Church services.
These had been vaguely supposed at the time to be of a High Church
character, but afterwards they were put down to a growing mental
derangement, which had finally culminated at that notorious Harvest
Festival, when his career as a clergyman of the Church of England had
ended. On this painful occasion the old man had come into church
outlandishly dressed, and had gone through a service with chanted
gibberish and unaccustomed gestures, and prayers which were
unfamiliar to his congregation. There was also talk of a woman's figure
on the altar, which the Vicar had unveiled at a solemn moment in this
performance; and I also heard echo of other gossip--gossip that was,
however, authoritatively contradicted and suppressed as much as
possible--about the use of certain other symbols of a most unsuitable
kind. Then a few days after the old man had disappeared--some of the
neighbours believed that he was dead; some, that he was now shut up in
an asylum for the insane.
Such was the fantastic and almost incredible talk I listened to, but in
which, as I say, I found much more meaning than my neighbours. For
one thing, although they knew that the Vicar had come from Oxford to
this remote College living, they knew nothing of his