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Jennifer Harder

Enhancing Adobe Acrobat Forms with

JavaScript
Take Your Forms to the Next Level!
2nd ed.
Jennifer Harder
Delta, BC, Canada

ISBN 978-1-4842-9469-7 e-ISBN 978-1-4842-9470-3

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-4842-9470-3

© Jennifer Harder 2017, 2023

Standard Apress

Trademarked names, logos, and images may appear in this book. Rather
than use a trademark symbol with every occurrence of a trademarked
name, logo, or image we use the names, logos, and images only in an
editorial fashion and to the benefit of the trademark owner, with no
intention of infringement of the trademark. The use in this publication
of trade names, trademarks, service marks, and similar terms, even if
they are not identified as such, is not to be taken as an expression of
opinion as to whether or not they are subject to proprietary rights.

The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the
advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate
at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or the
editors give a warranty, express or implied, with respect to the material
contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been
made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional
claims in published maps and institutional affiliations.

This Apress imprint is published by the registered company APress

Media, LLC, part of Springer Nature.
The registered company address is: 1 New York Plaza, New York, NY
10004, U.S.A.
Introduction
Welcome to the first step in an exciting journey called Enhancing Adobe
Acrobat Forms with JavaScript.
My journey into learning about Adobe software began more than 20
years ago when I started college. I took a two-year graphic
communications course in Vancouver, BC. While learning about how to
set up documents for print layout using QuarkXPress and later Adobe
InDesign, I created PDF files. At that point, I saw the PDF only as a
transition from one file format to the next production step, from layout
to the printing press. It never crossed my mind what else could be done
with PDF files in Adobe Acrobat.
Several years after graduating, while doing freelance work for one
of my clients, I began to investigate the features of Acrobat to discover
what else the program had to offer. In 2008, I decided to learn more
about web design and improve my layout skills in Adobe software. After
finishing three certificates in web design at Langara College Continuing
Studies, I realized that I wanted to help students learn more about
Adobe software. There were times through the journey when I read
different computer books and felt, “OK, I’ve finished this tutorial or
project, but how does this relate to the real world and what I’m trying
to accomplish?” In 2011, I became a teaching assistant at Langara
College, and this gave me the opportunity to write my own course on
introducing students to Adobe Acrobat. While writing it, I realized
there was a lot more that could be said about Acrobat than what I could
present in a three-evening course. At that point, I was looking at one
icon in the Acrobat menu that perplexed me. It was called JavaScript.
JavaScript in Acrobat? What was that doing there? The only
JavaScript that I knew about at that point was through building
websites. Back then I had built a few basic template forms using
LiveCycle Designer, MS Word, and Acrobat, but I had never used
JavaScript in the Acrobat program. I began to wonder how JavaScript
could improve my forms.
This is when and how the idea began for developing a book for
students on the topic of Acrobat and JavaScript. After years of research,
looking at Adobe and Acrobat forums, and studying the questions and
concerns users had when trying to add JavaScript to Acrobat, I came to
the following conclusions:
Users are looking for simple solutions to programming an Acrobat
form that they will use in real-world situations. Many are looking for
the same answers.
When documentation is not written in a simplified manner, the
average user becomes intimidated. They will shy away from using the
JavaScript menu and eventually give up and ignore the tool. To them,
JavaScript coding is like a foreign language, and the average person
who has not taken web design lessons does not have a clue what it
means or where the code should be inserted, since the form field’s
property dialog boxes look nothing like a web page.
At some point, it’s important to share with others what you have
learned about Acrobat and JavaScript and not keep your thoughts to
yourself. That’s what leads to innovative ideas. However, these
thoughts need to be organized so that the user can find the solution
quickly and be able to comprehend it. And these ideas need to be
kept up-to-date.
Shortly after compiling my notes for the first edition of this book,
Adobe introduced the latest version: Acrobat DC. I saw that the layout
of the program had changed and there was no book to show the user
how to add JavaScript in this new format. I had completed the first draft
of my Advanced Adobe course and had it approved by my program
coordinator at the college. In 2016, I realized I could reach a wider
audience if the book was published, so I approached Apress. They saw
my vision, and that is how this book came to be in your possession.
In October 2022, Acrobat has with latest releases removed the
reference to Document Cloud (DC) from its name; see
https://helpx.adobe.com/acrobat/using/whats-
new.html. This is the reason for the removal of “DC” from the title of
the second edition.
Newer versions of Adobe Acrobat also rely on web forms, which is a
new topic we will look at in Chapter 20.
Understanding How Acrobat and Its Forms Work
with JavaScript
If you are currently using Adobe Acrobat Pro DC or older versions, it’s
time to upgrade to the new Adobe Acrobat Pro, which we will be using
throughout this book. You can either acquire Adobe Acrobat Pro as a
stand-alone program through Adobe or get a Creative Cloud
subscription and enjoy all the exciting Adobe programs for a monthly
fee. Refer to these links and check if your computer’s operating system
meets the system requirements needed for the upgrade:
https://helpx.adobe.com/creative-cloud/system-
requirements.html
https://helpx.adobe.com/acrobat/system-
requirements.html
Make sure to follow the online instructions and tutorials for
installing and working with Acrobat and Creative Cloud.
If you already have Adobe Acrobat Pro installed on your machine
through the Creative Cloud subscription, you may notice that Acrobat
Pro in the upper-left edge of the program says “32-bit,” even if the
version number is 22.0 or newer, while the most recent version is 64-
bit. Even with regular updates your version may not make this switch
automatically.
I found that the best way to change this application’s bit from 32 to
64 is to uninstall the application from the Creative Cloud Desktop and
then install the program again. Refer to Figure I-1.
Figure I-1 Installing Acrobat again will change it to the 64-bit version
The benefit of changing to the 64-bit version is if you are running a
newer computer, you can ensure better performance, security, and
usage of memory when opening larger files. As of January 2023, Adobe
has been gradually fading out support for the 32-bit system; see
https://helpx.adobe.com/acrobat/kb/end-of-support-
acrobat-reader-32-bit-os.html.
If you are new to Adobe Acrobat, I encourage you to first read Adobe
Acrobat Classroom in a Book by Lisa Fridsma. Her book will give you a
basic overview of the new Acrobat features as well as some form basics.
However, that book does not go into detail regarding forms when
working with JavaScript. I consider my book to be a sequel for
intermediate and advanced users to take their forms to the next level.
Adobe Acrobat Pro will allow you to add form fields to any PDF file,
as I will explain further in Chapter 1. It can even work with pre-existing
form fields that were created in Adobe InDesign CC when the file was
exported as an interactive PDF. However, it’s important that your client
views and interacts with the forms in Acrobat Pro, Standard, or Acrobat
Reader. Other PDF readers, and some older browsers, have been known
to corrupt the JavaScript programing when saving a document, so keep
this in mind when you email the forms to clients. Make sure your clients
have the latest version of Acrobat Reader, which is free, and that their
browser is up-to-date as well.
Another reason some users may not be able to interact with
JavaScript is that they may have disabled the use of JavaScript in the
Acrobat Application under Edit ➤ Preferences Categories JavaScript.
See Figure I-2 for how your JavaScript preferences should appear in
Adobe Acrobat Pro.
Figure I-2 Acrobat Pro Preferences menu for enabling and disabling JavaScript and
security features
 The following is an explanation from the Adobe website on some of
the settings. See
https://helpx.adobe.com/acrobat/using/javascripts-
pdfs-security-risk.html for more information.
Enable Acrobat JavaScript: Uncheck this to disable JavaScript
completely or restrict JavaScript through APIs. This setting by default
is enabled.
Enable menu items JavaScript execution privileges: This enables
executing JavaScript by clicking menu items. When off, privileged
JavaScript calls can be executed through the menu. Executing
nonprivileged JavaScript calls through menu items is not blocked
whether this box is checked or not. This setting by default is disabled.
Enable global object security policy: This allows JavaScript
globally through APIs or trusts specific documents containing
JavaScript. This setting by default is enabled.
Note that you will not be working with any JavaScript that could
create a security risk, so you can leave the JavaScript Security area at
the default settings for these chapters as you work with the files you
download. However, I will show you how to enable the JavaScript
Debugger in Chapter 5 using the Preferences dialog box.
In most cases, Adobe Acrobat will autodetect in a PDF where most
form fields can be added in a form, but it’s not a perfect science. It’s up
to you as the author to edit and test your forms for errors as you build
them and add your JavaScript code.

What to Expect from This Book

Enhancing Adobe Acrobat Forms with JavaScript covers up-to-date, real
working examples that you can easily download, practice with, and edit
to suit your own projects. Using screenshots from Adobe Acrobat Pro,
users of previous versions will also be able to utilize these techniques.
This book also shows work-arounds and solutions to various form
issues you might encounter. JavaScript does not need to be scary. Feel
empowered by it and improve your PDF documents!
What You’ll Learn
You’ll learn how to do the following in this book:
Create calculations, rating forms, and QR code stamps using the form
elements
Understand simplified field notation and basic JavaScript for Acrobat
Use buttons for navigation
Create complex forms that include drop-down and list boxes in
combination with other form fields such as check boxes and radio
buttons
Use the Action Wizard and JavaScript
Improve form navigation and the printing of forms
Implement various types of alerts and custom validations to improve
client-entered data and avoid errors
Get new information on Adobe Sign and how it relates to Acrobat
Forms online

Note You can find the project files for the book at
www.apress.com/9781484228920.
Any source code or other supplementary material referenced by the
author in this book is available to readers on GitHub. For more detailed
information, please visit http://www.apress.com/source-code.
Acknowledgments
Because of their patience and advice, I would like to thank the following
people, for without them I could never have written this book:
My parents, for encouraging me to read large computer textbooks
that would one day inspire me to write my own books
My dad, for reviewing the first draft before I sent a proposal
My program coordinator, Raymond Chow, at Langara College, who
gave me the chance to teach evening courses and allowing me to find
new and creative ways to teach software
My various freelance clients who I have learned from and researched
more about forms and form layout through working on their projects
I would also like to thank Spandana Chatterjee and Mark Powers at
Apress for showing me how to lay out a professional textbook and
pointing out that even when you think you’ve written it all, there’s still
more to write. Also, thanks to the technical reviewer for providing
encouraging comments and to the rest of the Apress team for being
involved in the printing of this book and making my dream a reality
again. I am truly grateful and blessed.
Table of Contents
Part I: Basic Form Improvements
Chapter 1:​A Fundamental Forms Primer
Forms Review
Fields Refresher
Properties Refresher
Text Box Field Properties and Date Field Properties Dialog
Boxes
Dropdown Properties Dialog Box
List Box Properties Dialog Box
Check Box Properties Dialog Box
Radio Button Properties Dialog Box
Button Properties and Image Properties Dialog Box
Digital Signature Properties Dialog Box
Barcode Properties Dialog Box
Tabs Refresher
Editing Your Form with the More Menu and Right Pane
Setting the Field Tab Order Using the Menu Options
Clearing a Form While Working
Summary
Chapter 2:​Introduction to Actions
Getting Started
Rating Forms Value Averaging and Sum:​Working with Text
Fields
The Validate Tab
The Calculate Tab for the Grand Total Using Sum
 Sum and Averaging Using Check Boxes or Radio Buttons with
Text Fields
Using Radio Buttons on Page 3 of the Project
Using Check Boxes on Page 3 of the Project
Turning Check Boxes into Radio Buttons
Basic Action Button Triggers for Reset Buttons and Printing
Buttons
Reset Button
Print Form Button
Summary
Chapter 3:​Creating a QR Code Custom Stamp
Customizing Your QR Code Stamp
QR Code Creation
Using the Stamp Tool
Final Thoughts:​QR Code for Professional Printing
Summary
Chapter 4:​Buttons, Navigation, Form, and Nonform Actions
Creating a Button Icon
Example of a Button as a Label Only
Example of a Button Combination of Icon Only
Nonform Properties Actions
Pages
Bookmarks
Web and Custom Hyperlinks
Rich Media Nonform Navigation Buttons
Layers Basic Actions
 Other Nonform Actions That Can Affect Sticky Note or
Markup Tools Indirectly
Triggers for Actions
Choose an Action That Requires No Code
Newsletter Navigation with Buttons
Form Navigation with a Button as a Helpful Hint
Adding a Comb of Characters
Before Comb and After Comb
More Action Triggers to Show and Hide
Hide and Clear Fields Button
Set Layer Visibility
Using Bookmarks
Using Buttons
Summary
Part II: Simplified Field Notation and Basic JavaScript
Chapter 5:​Introduction to Simplified Field Notation and JavaScript
Getting Started
Text Field, Date, and Drop-Down List Properties
Actions Tab
Format Tab
Validate Tab
Calculate Tab
Check Box, Radio Button, Image Field, and Button Properties
List Box Properties
Digital Signature Properties
Barcode Properties
 Global Document JavaScript
Web Links and References
Regular Forms vs.​E-Signature Forms
JavaScript and Acrobat on the Document Level
Summary
Chapter 6:​Basic and Complex Calculations
Getting Started
Sum Value
Simplified Field Notation
JavaScript Custom Calculation Script
Final Thoughts on Working with the Calculate Tab
JavaScript Script Validation for Displaying Zero
The Final Line of Code
Drop-Down Alternatives
Set Field Calculation Order
Resetting Your Field of Focus
Summary
Chapter 7:​Format Calculations
Number Formatting
Formatting with a Percentage
A Workaround for the Percentage
Reset Fields with JavaScript
Date Formatting
Date Formatting with JavaScript
Time Formatting
Time Formatting with JavaScript, a Custom Example
 Comb of Characters for Dates
Special Formatting
Final Thoughts
Drop-Down Alternatives
More Information on Adding Decimal Places and Leading
Zeros
Summary
Chapter 8:​Various JavaScript Alerts, Notes, and Time Stamps
Alert Types
Create a Document JavaScript
Viewer Version and Validation Alert
Document Actions
Document Will Close
Document Will Print
Alerts Working with Buttons
Adding a Comment Note, Signature, and Time Stamp
Signature Field and Time Stamp
Summary
Chapter 9:​Create Help for Clients with Rollover Text and Alerts
The Rollover Method
Mouse Enter
Mouse Exit
Longer Array Example (Optional)
Extra Noncustom JavaScript Check Box Example
How to Show and Hide Fields with JavaScript
The Default Text Method
 The Alert Method
Customer’s Full Name
Date
Customer Order Code
Customer’s Company Name
How to Duplicate Text for Multiple Fields and Make Fields
Read-Only
Set Fields to Read-Only with JavaScript
Final Thoughts
Summary
Chapter 10:​Various Types of Formatting with JavaScript
Adding Global Formatting to Text Fields
Color Properties
Array and Variable Examples of Formatting Properties
Multiline Buttons
Multiline Text
Complex Formatting Using Check Boxes and a Text Field
Rich Text Formatting for Text Fields and Comments
Comment Example
Final Thoughts on Formatting with Text
Silent Printing
Options for Submit Button Using Email
Summary
Part III: Working with More Complex Forms
Chapter 11:​Validation with Text Boxes, Alerts, and Radio Buttons
Money Transfer Example
 Alternate Way to Work with Radio Buttons Without Alerts
Changing the Shipping Price Using Radio Buttons
Additional Radio Button Example with JavaScript and Text
Fields and How to Change Data for Time
Setting Up the Text Fields
Check Box Variation with Date Text Fields
Notes on Changing Formatting Options for Radio Button,
Check Box, and Button Style
Text Field Validation with Regular Expressions
Telephone Validation
Name Validation
Account Number Validation
Email and URL Validation
Another Phone and Date Example with Two Variables
Final Thoughts on Formatting Fields
Summary
Chapter 12:​Working with Dropdown Lists
Current Skills Request Form
Parts Order Form
Drop-Down Lists with Select Dates and Discounts
Final Thoughts
Load a Lengthy Single Drop-Down or List Menu
Tips on Changing Custom Formatting for Drop-Down Lists
with JavaScript
Summary
Chapter 13:​Working with List Boxes
List Box Priority List with Control Buttons
 The Add Button
The Delete Button
The Clear or Reset Button
The Up Button
The Down Button
Check Box, Drop-Down, and List Box:​Example 1
Check Box, List Box, and Multi-Drop-Down:​Example 2
Button Slide Show Variation
Extra Example Priority List Improved
Final Thoughts
Hidden Fields
Using List Boxes for a Number Rating
Notes on Changing Custom Formatting for List Boxes
Summary
Chapter 14:​Advanced Navigation:​The Pop-Up Menu
The Pop-Up Menu Example
Add a Pop-Up Menu Using a Bookmark
Final Thoughts
Summary
Part IV: Beyond the Basics
Chapter 15:​Action Wizard and JavaScript
Working with the Action Wizard
Reuse JavaScript from Chapter 8
Is It a Custom Action or a Custom Command?​
Create and Manage Custom Commands
Summary
Chapter 16:​Multistate Check Boxes
The Problem of Multistate Check Boxes
Bonus Star Rating Idea
Select All or Deselect All Check Boxes at Once
Summary
Chapter 17:​Importing an Image into a Button
Creating the Button
Summary
Chapter 18:​Multiple Formatting
The Problem of Multiple Formatting
Option 1:​Do It Yourself
Price Script
No Price Script
Adding a Degree Symbol and Formatting Range
Option 2:​Contact a Professional
Summary
Chapter 19:​Digital Signatures and Barcodes
Digital Signatures and Security
Working with Digital Signatures and Other Adobe Security
Tools
Create a Security Puzzle
Barcodes
Summary
Chapter 20:​What Are E-Signature Forms and Web Forms?​
A Brief Look at Request E-Signatures and Resources
What Are Web Forms?​
 Summary
Part V: Putting It into Practice
Chapter 21:​Homework Assignments
Homework Assignment 1:​Show and Hide
Homework Assignment 2:​Working with JavaScript to Create
Formulas
Area of a Circle A = π r 2
Field:​CircumferenceRow​1 Circumference of a Circle C =​2 π
r
Field: VolumeRow1 Volume of a Sphere V = 4/3 π r3
Field:​FahrenheitRow1 Celsius to Fahrenheit to Formula.​(°C
x 9/​5) + 32 =​°F.​
Field:​CelsiusRow1_​2 Fahrenheit to Celsius Formula.​(°F -
32) x 5/​9 =​°C
Homework Assignment 3:​Custom Validation and Regular
Expressions
Homework Assignment 4:​Personal Drop-Down List Menu and
Definitions Text Box
Summary
Index
About the Author
Jennifer Harder
has worked in the graphic design
industry for more than 15 years. She has
a degree in graphic communications and
is currently teaching Adobe Acrobat and
Adobe Creative Cloud courses at Langara
College. She is the author of several
Apress books and related videos.
About the Technical Reviewer
Sourabh Mishra
is an entrepreneur, developer, speaker, author, corporate trainer, and
animator. His programming experience includes C/C++, ASP.NET, C#, VB
.NET, WCF, SQL Server, Entity Framework, MVC, Web API, Azure, jQuery,
Highcharts, and Angular. Sourabh has been awarded MVP status. He has
the zeal to learn new technologies and enjoys sharing his knowledge on
several online community forums.
He is a founder of IECE Digital and Sourabh Mishra Notes—online
knowledge-sharing platform where people can learn new technologies
easily and comfortably.
He can be reached through the following platforms:
Email: [email protected]
YouTube:
https://www.youtube.com/@SourabhMishraNotes
Instagram:
https://www.instagram.com/sourabhmishranotes/?
hl=en
Twitter: @sourabh_mishra1
Part I
Basic Form Improvements
© The Author(s), under exclusive license to APress Media, LLC, part of Springer
Nature 2023
J. Harder, Enhancing Adobe Acrobat Forms with JavaScript
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-4842-9470-3_1

1. A Fundamental Forms Primer

Jennifer Harder1
(1) Delta, BC, Canada

Chapter Goal: Creating the right form before you add JavaScript to
your PDF fields takes time and careful planning. Therefore, it’s
important that you become familiar with each of the form tools and the
properties that are associated with them. This chapter provides a quick
overview of forms, fields, properties, and tabs that will serve as the
basis for future chapters. If you are already comfortable with these
topics, feel free to jump ahead to Chapter 2.

Forms Review
Each form field has within it properties that can be accessed by right-
clicking the form field. The properties of that form field are organized
by tabs. Each form field has slightly different properties and therefore
different tabs.
Throughout this book you will be working on lessons with a variety
of different PDF forms and documents for a fictitious company called
the Tourmaline Mining Corporation.
Each chapter (except for Chapters 1 and 5) comes with JavaScript in
a .txt file and PDF files that you can open and compare. You can either
view the final PDF file or use the start PDF file and follow along with
the notes in these chapters. You can find the link to these files in the
introduction and then locate that specific Chapter Project folder.
 Note Please be aware that the PDF files used with this book should
be opened only in Adobe Acrobat Pro, Acrobat Reader, or earlier
versions of Acrobat DC and not in your web browser or any other
PDF creation/reader program. Other PDF readers have been known
to corrupt the JavaScript code within the Acrobat PDF files, and then
the calculations fail to work.

Upon opening Acrobat Pro, make sure to check your preferences at Edit
➤Preferences ➤ Forms. Refer to Figure 1-1. They should be set to the
default settings shown in Figure 1-2.

Figure 1-1 Open Acrobat Pro using your Creative Cloud Desktop App
Figure 1-2 Default settings for the Forms tool found in the Preferences
In this case, all of the General check boxes are enabled.
Automatically calculate field values
Automatically adjust tab order when modifying fields
Show focus rectangle
Show text field overflow indicator
Show field preview when creating or editing form fields
Automatically detect Form Fields
Auto-enable text editing in Prepare Form
Highlight Color’s check is enabled to show border hover color for
fields. Light blue is the color for highlighted fields, and red is the
highlight color for required fields.
Auto-Complete is set to Off, and there is a description below it
explaining what this setting means. Other options in the list are Basic or
Advanced.
At this point, if these are your settings, you can click Cancel and Exit
or make your settings like mine and click OK. These preferences are not
saved with the forms but will help you interact with the forms as you
work.
If you are working with Manage Barcode Parameter, refer to this
topic later in the chapter and Chapter 19.
The book assumes you are familiar with filling in basic forms or
have used PDF forms in the past. If you are unsure of how to use the
Prepare Form tool and its autodetection of fields in Acrobat Pro, this
section provides a refresher.
Draw your form either by hand or create the basic structure in MS
Word, Adobe Illustrator, or Adobe InDesign, and then decide what steps
you want the form to do and accomplish. Then plan how to execute
your goals. Is what you want the form to do possible? Do you need to
simplify the form? Or do you need to learn more about the topic of
forms to create what you want? Make sure to consult with your team or
clients as you build the form before you begin to add interactivity.
Except for the program of Adobe InDesign, you cannot assemble the
form’s interactive fields outside of Acrobat, so you need to make a PDF
to do that. Until you are ready to make the PDF, continue to assemble
the form in your layout program such as MS Word until it looks the way
it should. Then save the MS Word file (.doc or .docx). Then create the
PDF. For example, in the case of MS Word, I can use my Acrobat tab to
quickly create a PDF or use my File Print tab. Refer to Figure 1-3.

Figure 1-3 Use the MS Word Ribbon with the Acrobat tab or the Print settings to
create your PDF
Once you have the final PDF, open it in Acrobat Pro and follow these
steps to add interactivity:
1. Click the Tools tab and click the Prepare Form tool, which is found
in the Forms & Signatures section (see Figure 1-4).
Figure 1-4 Location of Prepare Form tool
2. You can use this tool whether you have a PDF Form open or not.
While in the tool, choose, in this case, Single File, locate your file
(you can change the files if the thumbnail is not correct), and make
sure that form field autodetection is on. Do not select “This
document requires signatures” as we will look at that option in
Chapter 20 in more detail (Figure 1-5).
Figure 1-5 The Prepare Form tool when you first create a new form
3. Click Start. Acrobat will scan the file for fields; if it detects any, it
will create the field. However, it is not perfect in its detection, so
you may have to add, delete, or edit some fields afterward.

4. Once you have added your fields, save the file as a new PDF
(Ctrl/Cmd+S). Choose to save the file on your computer and then
 select a folder to save the file into. Make sure that the “Convert to”
option is disabled. The new PDF is now an interactive form. Refer to
Figure 1-6.

Figure 1-6 Saving the new PDF form in a folder after autodetection is completed

Note You can now, with the Prepare Form tools, create a PDF form
in three more ways; refer to Figure 1-5: directly from your scanner,
as a blank new document using the Create New option, or using the
Create a Web form. We’ll look at that option in Chapter 20.

You can now begin adding your formatting and actions to the
properties of each field. Test it, and ask others to try it on their
computer, before you email it to your clients. Always keep a backup on a
disk or USB drive in case something happens to your main computer.
Also, make a printout of the PDF and all code in case you need to refer
to it later for another project. In this book I have placed a copy of the
code in the .txt files in each chapter for reference.
 Once the fields are in the saved form, you can open the fields at any
time with the Prepare Form tool; you do not need to run the
autodetection again for that form. Refer to Figure 1-7.
You can exit the Prepare Form area partially by toggling the
Preview/Edit button in the upper-right (Figure 1-7). To exit the Prepare
Form tool completely, you must click the Close button in the upper-
right (Figure 1-7).
Figure 1-7 The Prepare Form tool and the tools for adding and working with the
fields. Note the Preview/Edit toggle and Exit (Close) buttons in the upper right. Also
note the view of a form while in Edit mode before switching to Preview
 For more information on basic forms or basic form creation, check
out the following links before you proceed any further in this book:
https://helpx.adobe.com/acrobat/using/pdf-forms-
basics.html
https://helpx.adobe.com/acrobat/using/create-
form.html
https://helpx.adobe.com/acrobat/using/creating-
distributing-pdf-forms.html
https://helpx.adobe.com/acrobat/using/filling-
pdf-forms.html
https://helpx.adobe.com/acrobat/using/pdf-form-
field-properties.html
The Adobe HelpX area for forms has additional links as well, and we
will look at some of those options later. But you can use this area as a
resource when you need to work with basic forms.
While working in the Prepare Form Tool area, you will come across
other form tools in the right-side pane, such as the Align and Distribute
options, and in the More drop-down menu (Figure 1-7). I will go into
more detail about this area and the JavaScript area later in the book.
However, you can also refer to the previous web links for more specific
details. Refer to Figure 1-8.
Figure 1-8 Additional options in the right-hand pane of the Prepare Form tool

Fields Refresher
Fields can be blank and inactive, or they can contain a script that, upon
entering or clicking a trigger, sets the action in motion. For example,
they can execute a menu item or import form data. In Acrobat Pro, the
Prepare Form Menu tool area contains all the field options listed next
plus the Selection tool and the newer options Edit Text and Images and
Add Text.
Fields can be used in any form, while the Selection tool is just an
arrow that allows you to select, size, and move them around. From left
to right, let’s look at the tool options in this section more closely; refer
to Figure 1-9.

Figure 1-9 Editing and Field options for forms

Selection tool: This arrow allows you select, size, and move fields. It
can also be used to edit text boxes when they are added; you double-
click with the arrow on them. Refer to the arrow in Figure 1-9.
Edit Text and Images: This is not a field option, but it allows you to
edit the text or images surrounding the field while remaining in the
Prepare Form tool and saves you time rather than having to close the
tool and use the Edit PDF tool instead. When text is selected, the right
pane’s Format area changes so that you can edit the selected text or
image that is surrounded by a bounding box. Images can be scaled
and rotated as well. Refer to Figure 1-10.
Figure 1-10 Text change settings in the Prepare Form tool and the selected text with
a bounding box
Add Text: This is not a field option, but it allows you to add a new
text box while remaining in the Prepare Form tool and saves you time
rather than having to close the tool and use the Edit PDF tool instead.
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when she had given up all hopes of interesting anyone. During six whole
weeks, growing the while more and more perplexed, Arnica relished with a
mild intoxication her two suitors’ parallel wooing. And while, during their
midnight walks, the Blafafoires calculated together the rate of their
respective progress, describing to each other lengthily and undisguisedly
every word, look and smile she had bestowed on them, Arnica, in the
seclusion of her bedroom, spent the time writing on bits of paper (which she
afterwards carefully burnt in the flame of the candle) or else in repeating
indefatigably, turn and turn about: Arnica Blafaphas?... Arnica Fleurissoire?
—incapable of deciding between the equal horror of these two atrocious
names.
Then, suddenly, on the evening of a little dance, she had chosen
Fleurissoire; had not Amédée just called her Arnica, putting the accent on
the penultimate in a way that seemed to her Italian? (As a matter of fact, he
had done it without reflection, carried away, no doubt, by Mademoiselle
Semène’s piano, with whose rhythm the atmosphere was throbbing.) And
this name of Arnica—her own name—had there and then seemed to her
fraught with unexpected music—as capable as any other of expressing
poetry and love.... They were alone together in a little sitting-room next-
door to the drawing-room, and so close to each other that when Arnica,
almost swooning with emotion and gratitude, let fall her drooping head, it
touched Amédée’s shoulder; and then, very gravely, he had taken Arnica’s
hand and kissed the tips of her fingers.
When, during their walk home that night, Amédée had announced his
happiness to his friend, Gaston, contrary to his custom, had said nothing,
and as they were passing a street lamp, Fleurissoire thought he saw him
crying. Could Amédée really have been simple enough to suppose that his
friend would share his happiness to this last degree? Abashed and
remorseful, he took Blafaphas in his arms (the street was empty) and swore
that however great his love might be, his friendship was greater still, that he
had no intention of letting his marriage interfere with it, and, finally, that
rather than feel that Blafaphas was suffering from jealousy, he was ready to
promise on his honour never to claim his conjugal rights.
Neither Blafaphas nor Fleurissoire possessed a very ardent temperament;
Gaston, however, whose manhood troubled him a little more, kept silence
and allowed Amédée to promise.
 Shortly after Amédée’s marriage, Gaston, who, in order to console
himself, had plunged over head and ears into work, discovered his Plastic
Plaster. The first consequence of this invention, which, to begin with, had
seemed of very little importance, was that it brought about the revival of
Lévichon’s friendship for the Blafafoires—a friendship which for some
time past had been allowed to lapse. Eudoxe Lévichon immediately divined
the services which this composition would render to religious statuary. With
a remarkable eye to contingencies, he at once christened it Roman Plaster.
[F] The firm of Blafaphas, Fleurissoire and Lévichon was founded.
The undertaking was launched with a capital of sixty thousand francs, of
which the Blafafoires modestly subscribed ten thousand. Lévichon,
unwilling that his two friends should be pressed, generously provided the
other fifty thousand. It is true that of these fifty thousand, forty were
advanced by Fleurissoire out of Arnica’s marriage portion; the sum was
repayable in ten years with compound interest at 4½ per cent—which was
more than Arnica had ever hoped for—and Amédée’s small fortune was
thus guaranteed from the risks which such an undertaking must necessarily
incur. The Blafafoires, on their side, brought as an asset their family
connexions and those of the Baragliouls, which meant, when once Roman
Plaster had proved its reliability, the patronage of several influential
members of the clergy; these latter (besides giving one or two important
orders themselves) persuaded several small parishes to supply the growing
needs of the faithful from the firm of B., F. & L., the increasing
improvement of artistic education having created a demand for works of
more exquisite finish than those which satisfied the ruder faith of our
ancestors. To supply this demand a few artists of acknowledged value in the
Church’s eyes, were enlisted by the firm of Roman Plaster, and were at last
placed in the position of seeing their works accepted by the jury of the
Salon. Leaving the Blafafoires at Pau, Lévichon established himself in
Paris, where, with his social facility, the business soon developed
considerably.
What could be more natural than that the Countess Valentine de Saint-
Prix should endeavour, through Arnica, to interest the firm of Blafaphas &
Co. in the secret cause of the Pope’s deliverance, and that she should
confidently hope that the Fleurissoires’ extreme piety would reimburse her a
portion of what she had subscribed? Unfortunately, the Blafafoires, owing
to the minuteness of the amount which they had originally invested in the
business, got very little out of it—two-twelfths of the disclosed profits and
none at all of the others. The Countess could not be aware of this, for
Arnica, like Amédée, was modestly shy of talking about their money
matters.

III
“Dear Madame de Saint-Prix, what is the matter? Your letter frightened
me.”
The Countess dropped into the arm-chair which Arnica pushed towards
her.
“Oh, Madame Fleurissoire!... Oh! mayn’t I call you Arnica?... this
trouble—it is yours as well as mine—will draw us together. Oh! if you only
knew!...”
“Speak! Speak! don’t leave me in suspense!”
“I’ve only just heard it myself. I’ll tell you directly, but mind, it must be
a secret between you and me.”
“I have never betrayed anyone’s confidence,” said Arnica, plaintively—
not that anyone had ever confided in her.
“You’ll not believe it.”
“Yes, yes,” wailed Arnica.
“Ah!” wailed the Countess. “Oh, would you be kind enough to get me a
cup of ... anything ... it doesn’t matter what.... I feel as if I were fainting.”
“What would you like? Cowslip? Lime-flower? Camomile?”
“It doesn’t matter.... Tea, I think.... I wouldn’t believe it myself at first.”
“There’s some boiling water in the kitchen. It won’t take a minute.”
While Arnica busied herself about the tea, the Countess appraised the
drawing-room and its contents with a calculating eye. They were
depressingly modest. A few green rep chairs; one red velvet arm-chair; one
other arm-chair (in which she was seated) in common tapestry; one table;
one mahogany console; in front of the fire-place, a woolwork rug; on the
chimney-piece, on each side of the alabaster clock (which was in a glass
case), two large vases in alabaster fretwork, also in glass cases; on the table,
a photograph album for the family photographs; on the console, a figure of
Our Lady of Lourdes in her grotto, in Roman Plaster (a small-sized model)
—there was not a thing in the room that was not discouraging, and the
Countess felt her heart sink within her.
But after all they were perhaps only shamming poverty—perhaps they
were merely miserly....
Arnica came back with the tea-pot, the sugar and a cup on a tray.
“I’m afraid I’m giving you a great deal of trouble.”
“Oh, not at all!... I’d rather do it now—before; afterwards, I mightn’t be
able to.”
“Well, then, listen!” began Valentine, after Arnica had sat down. “The
Pope——”
“No, no, don’t tell me! don’t tell me!” exclaimed Madame Fleurissoire
instantly, stretching out her hand in front of her; then, uttering a faint cry,
she fell back with her eyes closed.
“My poor dear! My poor dear!” said the Countess, patting her on the
wrist. “I felt sure it would be too much for you.”
Arnica at last feebly opened half an eye and murmured sadly:
“Dead?”
Then Valentine, bending towards her, slipped into her ear the single
word:
“Imprisoned!”
Sheer stupefaction brought Madame Fleurissoire back to her senses; and
Valentine began her long story, stumbling over the dates, mixing up the
names and muddling the chronology; one fact, however, stood out, certain
and indisputable—our Holy Father had fallen into the hands of the infidel—
a crusade was being secretly organised to deliver him, and in order to
conduct it successfully a large sum of money was necessary.
“What will Amédée say?” moaned Arnica in dismay.
He was not expected home before evening, having gone out for a walk
with his friend Blafaphas....
“Mind you impress on him the necessity of secrecy,” repeated Valentine
several times over as she took her leave of Arnica. “Give me a kiss, my
dear, and courage!”
Arnica nervously presented her damp forehead to the Countess.
 “I will look in to-morrow to hear what you think of doing. Consult
Monsieur Fleurissoire, but remember that the Church is at stake!... It’s
agreed, then—only to your husband! You promise, don’t you? Not a word!
Not a word!”
The Comtesse de Saint-Prix left Arnica in a state of depression bordering
on faintness. When Amédée came in from his walk:
“My dear,” she said to him at once, “I have just heard something
extremely sad. The Holy Father has been imprisoned.”
“No, not really?” said Amédée, as if he were saying “pooh!”
Arnica burst into sobs:
“I knew, I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”
“Come, come, darling,” went on Amédée, taking off his overcoat,
without which he never went out for fear of a sudden change of
temperature. “Just think! Everyone would know if anything had happened
to the Holy Father. It would be in all the papers. And who could have
imprisoned him?”
“Valentine says it’s the Lodge.”
Amédée looked at Arnica under the impression that she had taken leave
of her senses. He said, however:
“The Lodge? What Lodge?”
“How can I tell? Valentine has promised not to say anything about it.”
“Who told her?”
“She forbade me to say.... A canon, who was sent by a cardinal, with his
card——”
Arnica understood nothing of public affairs and Madame de Saint-Prix’s
story had left but a confused impression on her. The words “captivity” and
“imprisonment” conjured up before her eyes dark and semi-romantic
images; the word “crusade” thrilled her unspeakably, and when, at last,
Amédée’s disbelief wavered and he talked of setting out at once, she
suddenly saw him on horseback, in a helmet and breastplate.... As for him,
he had begun by now to pace up and down the room.
“In the first place,” he said, “it’s no use talking about money—we
haven’t got any. And do you think I could be satisfied with merely giving
money? Do you think I should be able to sleep in peace merely because I
had sacrificed a few bank-notes?... Why, my dear, if this is true that you’ve
been telling me, it’s an appalling thing and we mustn’t rest till we’ve done
something. Appalling, do you understand me?”
“Yes, yes, I quite understand, appalling!... But all the same, do explain
why.”
“Oh, if now I’ve got to explain!” and Amédée raised discouraged arms to
Heaven.
“No, no,” he went on, “this isn’t an occasion for giving money; it’s
oneself that one must give. I’ll consult Blafaphas; we’ll see what he says.”
“Valentine de Saint-Prix made me promise not to tell anyone,” put in
Arnica, timidly.
“Blafaphas isn’t anyone; and we’ll impress on him that he must keep it
strictly to himself.”
Then, turning towards her, he implored pathetically:
“Arnica, my dearest, let me go!”
She was sobbing. It was she now who insisted on Blafaphas coming to
the rescue. Amédée was starting to fetch him, when he turned up of his own
accord, knocking first at the drawing-room window, as was his habit.
“Well! that’s the most singular story I ever heard in my life!” he cried
when they had told him all about it. “No, really! Who would ever have
thought of such a thing?” And then, before Fleurissoire had said anything of
his intentions, he went on abruptly:
“My dear fellow, there’s only one thing for us to do—set out at once.”
“You see,” said Amédée, “it’s his first thought.”
“Unfortunately I’m kept at home by my poor father’s health,” was his
second.
“After all, it’s better that I should go by myself,” went on Amédée. “Two
of us together would attract attention.”
“But will you know how to manage?”
At this, Amédée raised his shoulders and eyebrows, as much as to say: “I
can but do my best!”
“Will you know whom to appeal to?... where to go?... And, as a matter of
fact, what exactly do you mean to do when you get there?”
“First of all, find out the facts.”
“Supposing, after all, there were no truth in the story?”
 “Exactly! I can’t rest till I know.”
And Gaston immediately exclaimed: “No more can I!”
“Do take a little more time to think it over, dear,” protested Arnica
feebly.
“I have thought it over. I shall go—secretly—but I shall go.”
“When? Nothing is ready.”
“This evening. What do I need so much?”
“But you haven’t ever travelled. You won’t know how to.”
“You’ll see, my love, you’ll see! When I come back, I’ll tell you my
adventures,” said he, with an engaging little chuckle which set his Adam’s
apple shaking.
“You’re certain to catch cold.”
“I’ll wear your comforter.” He stopped in his pacing to raise Arnica’s
chin with the tip of his forefinger, as one does a baby’s, when one wants to
make it smile. Gaston’s attitude was one of reserve. Amédée went up to
him:
“I count upon you to look up my trains. Find me a good train to
Marseilles with thirds. Yes, yes, I insist upon travelling third. Anyhow,
make me out a time-table in detail and mark the places where I shall have to
change—and where I can get refreshments—at any rate, as far as the
frontier; after that, when I’ve got a start, I shall be able to look after myself,
and with God’s guidance I shall get to Rome. You must write to me there
poste restante.”
The importance of his mission was exciting his brain dangerously. After
Gaston had gone, he continued to pace the room; from time to time he
murmured, his heart melting with wonder and gratitude:
“To think that such a thing should be reserved for me!” So at last he had
his raison d’être. Ah! for pity’s sake, dear lady, let him go! To how many
beings on God’s earth is it given to find their function?
All that Arnica obtained was that he should pass this one night with her,
Gaston, indeed, having pointed out in the time-table which he brought
round in the evening, that the most convenient train was the one that left at
8 A.M.
 The next morning it poured with rain. Amédée would not allow Arnica
or Gaston to go with him to the station; so that the quaint traveller with his
cod-fish eyes, his neck muffled in a dark crimson comforter, holding in his
right hand a grey canvas portmanteau, on to which his visiting-card had
been nailed, in his left an old umbrella, and on his arm a brown and green
check shawl, was carried off by the train to Marseilles, without a farewell
glance from anyone.

IV
About this time an important sociological congress summoned Count
Julius de Baraglioul back to Rome. He was not perhaps specially invited
(his opinions on such subjects being founded more on conviction than
knowledge), but he was glad to have this opportunity of getting into touch
with one or two illustrious personages. And as Milan lay conveniently on
his road—Milan where, as we know, the Armand-Dubois had gone to live
on the advice of Father Anselm—he determined to take advantage of the
circumstance in order to see his brother-in-law.
On the same day that Fleurissoire left Pau, Julius knocked at Anthime’s
door. He was shown into a wretched apartment consisting of three rooms—
if the dark closet where Veronica herself cooked the few vegetables which
formed their chief diet, may be counted as a room. The little light there was
came from a narrow court-yard and shone down dismally from a hideous
metal reflector; Julius preferred to keep his hat in his hand rather than set it
down on the oval table with its covering of doubtfully clean oilcloth, and
remained standing because of the horror with which the horsehair chairs
inspired him.
He seized Anthime by the arm and exclaimed:
“My poor fellow, you can’t stay here.”
“What are you pitying me for?” asked Anthime.
Veronica came hurrying up at the sound of their voices.
“Would you believe it, my dear Julius?—that is the only thing he finds to
say in spite of the grossly unjust and unfair way in which we have been
treated.”
“Who suggested your coming to Milan?”
 “Father Anselm; but in any case we couldn’t have kept on the Via in
Lucina apartment.”
“There was no need for us to keep it on,” said Anthime.
“That’s not the point. Father Anselm promised you compensation. Is he
aware of your distress?”
“He pretends not to be,” said Veronica.
“You must complain to the Bishop of Tarbes.”
“Anthime has done so.”
“What did he say?”
“He is a worthy man; he earnestly encouraged me in my faith.”
“But since you have been here, haven’t you complained to anyone?”
“I just missed seeing Cardinal Pazzi, who had shown some interest in my
case and to whom I had written; he did come to Milan, but he sent me word
by his footman....”
“That a fit of the gout unfortunately kept him to his room.”
“But it’s abominable! Rampolla must be told!” cried Julius.
“Told what, my dear friend? It is true that I am somewhat reduced—but
what need have we of more? In the time of my prosperity I was astray; I
was a sinner; I was ill. Now, you see, I am cured. Formerly you had good
cause to pity me. And yet you know well enough that worldly goods turn us
aside from God.”
“Yes, but those worldly goods were yours by rights. It’s all very well that
the Church should teach you to despise them, but not that she should cheat
you of them.”
“That’s the way to talk,” said Veronica. “What a relief it is to hear you,
Julius! His resignation makes me boil with rage; it’s impossible to get him
to defend himself. He has let himself be plucked like a goose and said
‘thank you’ to everyone who robbed him, as long as they did it in the Lord’s
name.”
“Veronica! it grieves me to hear you talk like that. Whatever is done in
the Lord’s name is well done.”
“If you think it’s agreeable to be made a fool of!” said Julius.
“God’s fool, dear Julius!”
 “Just listen to him! That’s what he’s like the whole time! Nothing but
Scripture texts in his mouth from morning to night! And after I’ve toiled
and slaved and done the marketing and the cooking and the housemaiding,
my good gentleman quotes the Gospel and says I’m being busy about many
things and tells me to look at the lilies of the field.”
“I help you to the best of my power, dear,” said Anthime in a seraphic
voice. “Now that I’ve got the use of my legs again, I’ve many a time
offered to do the marketing or the housework for you.”
“That’s not a man’s business. Content yourself with writing your
homilies, only try to get a little better pay for them.” And then, her voice
getting more and more querulous (hers, who used to be so smiling!): “Isn’t
it a disgrace?” she exclaimed. “When one thinks of what he used to get for
his infidel articles in the Dépêche! And now when the Pilgrim pays him a
miserable two-pence halfpenny for his religious meditations, he somehow
or other contrives to give three quarters of it to the poor!”
“Then he’s a complete saint!” cried Julius, aghast.
“Oh! how he irritates me with his saintliness!... Look here! Do you know
what this is?” and she fetched a small wicker cage from a dark corner of the
room. “These are the two rats whose eyes my scientific friend put out in the
old days.”
“Oh, Veronica, why will you harp on it? You used to feed them yourself
when I was experimenting on them—and then I blamed you for it.... Yes,
Julius, in my unregenerate days I blinded those poor creatures, out of vain
scientific curiosity; it’s only natural I should look after them now.”
“I wish the Church thought it equally natural to do for you what you do
for these rats—after having blinded you in the same way.”
“Blinded, do you say! Such words from you? Illumined, my dear brother,
illumined!”
“My words were plain matter-of-fact. It seems to me inadmissible that
you should be abandoned in such a state as this. The Church entered into an
engagement with you; she must keep it—for her own honour—for our
faith’s sake.” Then, turning to Veronica: “If you have obtained nothing so
far, you must appeal higher still—and still higher. Rampolla, did I say? It’s
to the Pope himself that I shall present a petition—to the Pope. He is
acquainted with your story. He ought to be informed of such a miscarriage
of justice. I am returning to Rome to-morrow.”
 “You’ll stop to dinner, won’t you?” asked Veronica, somewhat
apprehensively.
“Please excuse me—but really my digestion is so poor....” (and Julius,
whose nails were very carefully kept, glanced at Anthime’s large, stumpy,
square-tipped fingers). “On my way back from Rome I shall be able to stop
longer, and then I want to tell you about the new book I’m now at work on,
my dear Anthime.”
“I have just been re-reading On the Heights and it seems to me better
than I thought it at first.”
“I am sorry for you! It’s a failure. I’ll explain why when you’re in a fit
state to listen and to appreciate the strange preoccupations which beset me
now. But there’s too much to say. Mum’s the word for the present!”
He bade the Armand-Dubois keep up their spirits, and left them.
 BOOK IV: THE MILLIPEDE
“Et je ne puis approuver que ceux qui cherchent en
gémissant.”
—Pascal, 3421.

I
Amédée Fleurissoire had left Pau with five hundred francs in his pocket.
This, he thought, would certainly suffice him for his journey,
notwithstanding the extra expenses, to which the Lodge’s wickedness
would no doubt put him. And if, after all, this amount proved insufficient—
if he found himself obliged to prolong his stay, he would have recourse to
Blafaphas, who was keeping a small sum in reserve for him.
As no one at Pau was to know where he was going, he had not taken his
ticket further than Marseilles. From Marseilles to Rome a third-class ticket
cost only thirty-eight francs, forty centimes, and left him free to break his
journey if he chose—an option of which he took advantage, to satisfy, not
his curiosity for foreign parts, which had never been lively, but his desire
for sleep, which was inordinately strong. There was nothing he feared so
much as insomnia, and as it was important to the Church that he should
arrive at Rome in good trim, he would not consider the two days’ delay or
the additional expense of the hotel bills.... What was that in comparison to
spending a night in the train?—a night that would certainly be sleepless,
and particularly dangerous to health on account of the other travellers’
breaths; and then if one of them wanted to renew the air and took it into his
head to open a window, that meant catching a cold for certain.... He would
therefore spend the first night at Marseilles and the second at Genoa, in one
of those hotels that are found in the neighbourhood of the station, and are
comfortable without being over-grand.
For the rest he was amused by the journey and at making it by himself—
at last! For, at the age of forty-seven, he had never lived but in a state of
tutelage, escorted everywhere by his wife and his friend Blafaphas. Tucked
up in his corner of the carriage, he sat with a faint goat-like smile on his
face, wishing himself Godspeed. All went well as far as Marseilles.
 On the second day he made a false start. Absorbed in the perusal of the
Baedeker for Central Italy which he had just bought, he got into the wrong
train and headed straight for Lyons; it was only at Arles that he noticed his
mistake, just as the train was starting, so that he was obliged to go on to
Tarascon and come back over the same ground for the second time; then he
took an evening train as far as Toulon rather than spend another night at
Marseilles, where he had been pestered with bugs.
And yet the room which looked on to the Cannebière had not been
uninviting, nor the bed either, for that matter; he had got into it without
misgivings, after having folded his clothes, done his accounts and said his
prayers. He was dropping with sleep and went off at once.
The manners and customs of bugs are peculiar; they wait till the candle
is out, and then, as soon as it is dark, sally forth—not at random; they make
straight for the neck, the place of their predilection; sometimes they select
the wrists; a few rare ones prefer the ankles. It is not exactly known for
what reason they inject into the sleeper’s skin an exquisitely irritating oily
substance, the virulence of which is intensified by the slightest rubbing....
The irritation which awoke Fleurissoire was so violent that he lit his
candle again and hurried to the looking-glass to gaze at his lower jaw,
where there appeared an irregular patch of red dotted with little white spots;
but the smoky dip gave a bad light; the silver of the glass was tarnished and
his eyes were blurred with sleep.... He went back to bed still rubbing and
put out his light; five minutes later he lit it again, for the itching had
become intolerable, sprang to the wash-hand-stand, wetted his handkerchief
in his water jug and applied it to the inflamed zone, which had greatly
extended and now reached as far as his collar-bone. Amédée thought he was
going to be ill and offered up a prayer; then he put out his candle once
more. The respite which the cool compress had granted him lasted too short
a time to permit the sufferer to go to sleep; and there was added now to the
agony of the itching, the discomfort of having the collar of his night-shirt
drenched with water; he drenched it, too, with his tears. And suddenly he
started with horror—bugs! it was bugs!... He was surprised that he had not
thought of them sooner; but he knew the insect only by name, and how was
it possible to imagine that a definite bite could result in this indefinable
burning? He shot out of his bed and for the third time lit his candle.
 Being of a nervous and theoretical disposition, his ideas about bugs, like
many other people’s, were all wrong; cold with disgust, he began by
searching for them on himself—found ne’er a one—thought he had made a
mistake—again believed that he must be falling ill. There was nothing on
his sheets either; but nevertheless, before getting into bed again, it occurred
to him to lift up his bolster. He then saw three tiny blackish pastilles, which
tucked themselves nimbly away into a fold of the sheet. It was they, sure
enough!
Setting his candle on the bed, he tracked them down, opened out the fold
and discovered five of them. Not daring to squash them with his finger-nail,
he flung them in disgust into his chamber-pot and watered them copiously.
He watched them struggling for a few moments—pleased and ferocious. It
soothed his feelings. Then he got back into bed and blew out his candle.
The bites began again almost immediately with redoubled violence.
There were new ones now on the back of his neck. He lighted his candle
once more in a rage and took his night-shirt right off this time so as to
examine the collar at his leisure. At last he perceived four or five minute
light red specks running along the edge of the seam; he crushed them on the
linen, where they left a stain of blood—horrid little creatures, so tiny that he
could hardly believe that they were bugs already; but a little later, on raising
his bolster again, he unearthed an enormous one—their mother for certain;
at that, encouraged, excited, amused almost, he took off the bolster, undid
the sheets and began a methodical search. He fancied now that he saw them
everywhere, but as a matter of fact caught only four; he went back to bed
and enjoyed an hour’s peace.
Then the burning and itching began again. Once more he started the
hunt; then, worn out at last with disgust and fatigue, gave it up, and noticed
that if he did not scratch, the itching subsided pretty quickly. At dawn the
last of the creatures, presumably gorged, let him be. He was sleeping
heavily when the waiter called him in time for his train.

At Toulon it was fleas.

He picked them up in the train, no doubt. All night long he scratched
himself, turning from side to side without sleeping. He felt them creeping
up and down his legs, tickling the small of his back, inoculating him with
fever. As he had a sensitive skin, their bites rose in exuberant swellings,
which he inflamed with unrestrained scratching. He lit his candle over and
over again; he got up, took off his night-shirt and put it on again, without
being able to kill a single one. He hardly caught a fleeting glimpse of them;
they continually escaped him, and even when he succeeded in catching
them, when he thought they were flattened dead beneath his finger-nail,
they suddenly and instantaneously blew themselves out again and hopped
away as safe and lively as ever. He was driven to regretting the bugs. His
fury and exasperation of the useless chase effectually wrecked every
possibility of sleep.
All next day the bites of the previous night itched horribly, while fresh
creepings and ticklings showed him that he was still infested. The excessive
heat considerably increased his discomfort. The carriage was packed to
overflowing with workmen, who drank, smoked, spat, belched and ate such
high-smelling victuals that more than once Fleurissoire thought he was
going to be sick. And yet he did not dare leave the carriage before reaching
the frontier, for fear that the workmen might see him get into another and
imagine they were incommoding him; in the compartment into which he
next got, there was a voluminous wet-nurse, who was changing her baby’s
napkins. He tried nevertheless to sleep; but then his hat got in his way. It
was one of those shallow, white straw hats with a black ribbon round it, of
the kind commonly known as “sailor.” When Fleurissoire left it in its usual
position, its stiff brim prevented him from leaning his head back against the
partition of the carriage; if, in order to do this, he raised his hat a little, the
partition bumped it forwards; when, on the contrary, he pressed his hat
down behind, the brim was caught between the partition and the back of his
neck, and the sailor rose up over his forehead like the lid of a valve. He
decided at last to take it right off and to cover his head with his comforter,
which he arranged to fall over his eyes so as to keep out the light. At any
rate, he had taken precautions against the night; at Toulon that morning he
had bought a box of insecticide and, even if he had to pay dear for it, he
thought to himself that he would not hesitate to spend the night in one of the
best hotels; for if he had no sleep that night, in what state of bodily
wretchedness would he not be when he arrived at Rome?—at the mercy of
the meanest freemason!
At Genoa he found the omnibuses of the principal hotels drawn up
outside the station; he went straight up to one of the most comfortable-
looking, without letting himself be intimidated by the haughtiness of the
hotel servant, who seized hold of his miserable portmanteau; but Amédée
refused to be parted from it; he would not allow it to be put on the roof of
the carriage, but insisted that it should be placed next him—there—on the
same seat. In the hall of the hotel the porter put him at his ease by talking
French; then he let himself go and, not content with asking for “a very good
room,” inquired the prices of those that were offered him, determined to
find nothing to his liking for less than twelve francs.
The seventeen-franc room which he settled on after looking at several,
was vast, clean, and elegant without ostentation; the bed stood out from the
wall—a bright brass bed, which was certainly uninhabited, and to which his
precautions would have been an insult. The washstand was concealed in a
kind of enormous cupboard. Two large windows opened on to a garden;
Amédée leant out into the night and gazed long at the indistinct mass of
sombre foliage, letting the cool air calm his fever and invite him to sleep.
From above the bed there hung down a cloudy veil of tulle, which exactly
draped three sides of it, and which was looped up in a graceful festoon on
the fourth by a few little cords, like those that take in the reefs of a sail.
Fleurissoire recognised that this was what is known as a mosquito net—a
device which he had always disdained to make use of.
After having washed, he stretched himself luxuriously in the cool sheets.
He left the window open—not wide open, of course, for fear of cold in the
head and ophthalmia, but with one side fixed in such a way as to prevent
the night effluvia from striking him directly; did his accounts, said his
prayers and put out the light. (This was electric and the current was cut off
by turning down a switch.)

Fleurissoire was just going off to sleep when a faint humming reminded
him that he had failed to take the precaution of putting out his light before
opening his window; for light attracts mosquitoes. He remembered, too, that
he had somewhere read praises of the Lord, who has bestowed on this
winged insect a special musical instrument, designed to warn the sleeper the
moment before he is going to be stung. Then he let down the impenetrable
muslin barrier all round him. “After all,” thought he to himself as he was
dropping off, “how much better this is than those little felt cones of dried
hay, which old Blafaphas sells under the quaint name of ‘fidibus’; one lights
them on a little metal saucer; as they burn they give out a quantity of
narcotic fumes; but before they stupefy the mosquitoes, they half stifle the
sleeper. Fidibus! What a funny name! Fidibus....” He was just going off,
when suddenly a sharp sting on the left side of his nose awoke him. He put
his hand to the place and as he was softly stroking the raised and burning
flesh—another sting on his wrist. Then right against his ear there sounded
the mock of an impertinent buzzing.... Horror! he had shut the enemy up
within the citadel! He reached out to the switch and turned on the light.
Yes! the mosquito was there, settled high up on the net. Amédée was
long-sighted and made him out distinctly; a creature that was wisp-like to
absurdity, planted on four legs, with the other pair sticking out insolently
behind him, long and curly; Amédée sat up on his bed. But how could he
crush the insect against such flimsy, yielding material? No matter! He gave
a hit with the palm of his hand, so hard and so quick that he thought he had
burst a hole in the net. Not the shadow of a doubt but the mosquito was
done for; he glanced down to look for its corpse; there was nothing—but he
felt a fresh sting on the calf of his leg.
At that, in order to get as much as possible of his person into shelter, he
crept between the sheets and stayed there perhaps a quarter of an hour,
without daring to turn out the light; then, all the same, somewhat reassured
at catching neither sight nor sound of the enemy, he switched it off. And
instantly the music began again.
Then he put out one arm, keeping his hand close to his face, and from
time to time when he thought he felt one well settled on his forehead or
cheek, he would give himself a huge smack. But the second after, he heard
the insect’s sing-song once more.
After this it occurred to him to wrap his head round with his comforter,
which considerably interfered with the pleasure of his respiratory organs,
and did not prevent him from being stung on the chin.
Then the mosquito, gorged, no doubt, lay low; at any rate, Amédée,
vanquished by slumber, ceased to hear it; he had taken off his comforter and
was tossing in a feverish sleep; he scratched as he slept. The next morning,
his nose, which was by nature aquiline, looked like the nose of a drunkard;
the spot on the calf of his leg was budding like a boil and the one on his
chin had developed an appearance that was volcanic—he recommended it
to the particular solicitude of the barber when, before leaving Genoa, he
went to be shaved, so as to be respectable when he arrived in Rome.
 II
At Rome, as he was lingering outside the station, so tired, so lost, so
perplexed that he could not decide what to do, and had only just strength
enough left to repel the advances of the hotel porters, Fleurissoire was lucky
enough to come upon a facchino who spoke French. Baptistin was a native
of Marseilles, a young man with bright eyes and a chin that was still
smooth; he recognised a fellow-countryman in Fleurissoire, and offered to
guide him and carry his portmanteau.
Fleurissoire had spent the long journey mugging up his Baedeker. A kind
of instinct—a presentiment—an inward warning—turned his pious
solicitude aside from the Vatican to concentrate it on the Castle of St.
Angelo (in ancient days Hadrian’s Mausoleum), the celebrated jail which
had sheltered so many illustrious prisoners of yore, and which, it seems, is
connected with the Vatican by an underground passage.
He gazed upon the map. “That is where I must find a lodging,” he had
decided, setting his forefinger on the Tordinona quay, opposite the Castle of
St. Angelo. And by a providential coincidence, that was the very place
where Baptistin proposed to take him; not, that is, exactly on the quay,
which is in reality nothing but an embankment, but quite near it—Via dei
Vecchierelli (of the little old men), which is the third street after the Ponte
Umberto, and leads straight on to the river bank; he knew of a quiet house
(from the windows of the third floor, by craning forward a little, one can see
the Mausoleum) where there were some very obliging ladies, who talked
every language, and one in particular who knew French.
“If the gentleman is tired, we can take a carriage; yes, it’s a long way....
Yes, the air is cooler this evening; it’s been raining; a little walk after a long
railway journey does one good.... No, the portmanteau is not too heavy; I
can easily carry it so far.... The gentleman’s first visit to Rome? He comes
from Toulouse, perhaps?... No; from Pau. I ought to have recognised the
accent.”
Thus chatting, they walked along. They took the Via Viminale; then the
Via Agostino Depretis, which runs into the Viminale at the Pincio; then by
way of the Via Nazionale they got into the Corso, which they crossed; after
this their way lay through a number of little streets without any names. The
portmanteau was not so heavy as to prevent the facchino from stepping out
briskly; and Fleurissoire could hardly keep up with him. He trotted along
beside Baptistin, dropping with fatigue and dripping with heat.
“Here we are!” said Baptistin at last, just as Amédée was going to beg
for quarter.
The street, or rather the alley of the Vecchierelli, was dark and narrow—
so much so that Fleurissoire hesitated to enter it. Baptistin, in the meantime,
had gone into the second house on the right, the door of which was only a
few yards from the quay; at the same moment, Fleurissoire saw a
bersagliere come out; the smart uniform which he had noticed at the
frontier, reassured him—for he had confidence in the army. He advanced a
few steps. A lady appeared on the threshold (the landlady of the inn
apparently) and smiled at him affably. She wore an apron of black satin,
bracelets, and a sky-blue silk ribbon round her neck; her jet-black hair was
piled in an edifice on the top of her head and sat heavily on an enormous
tortoise-shell comb.
“Your portmanteau has been carried up to the third floor,” said she to
Amédée in French, using the intimate “thou,” which he imagined must be
an Italian custom, or must else be set down to want of familiarity with the
language.
“Grazia!” he replied, smiling in his turn. “Grazia!—thank you!”—the
only Italian word he could say, and which he considered it polite to put into
the feminine when he was talking to a lady.
He went upstairs, stopping to gather breath and courage at every landing,
for he was worn out with fatigue, and the sordidness of the staircase
contributed to sink his spirits still lower. The landings succeeded each other
every ten steps; the stairs hesitated, tacked, made three several attempts
before they managed to reach a floor. From the ceiling of the first landing
hung a canary cage which could be seen from the street. On to the second
landing a mangy cat had dragged a haddock skin, which she was preparing
to bolt. On the third landing the door of the closet stood wide open and
revealed to view the seat, and beside it a yellow earthenware vase, shaped
like a top-hat, from whose cup protruded the stick of a small mop; on this
landing Amédée refrained from stopping.
On the first floor a smoky gasolene lamp was hanging beside a large
glass door, on which the word Salone was written in frosted letters; but the
room was dark, and Amédée could barely make out through the glass panes
of the door a mirror in a gold frame hanging on the wall opposite.
He was just reaching the seventh landing, when another soldier—an
artillery man this time—who had come out of a room on the second floor,
bumped up against him; he was running downstairs very fast and, after
setting Amédée on his feet again, passed on, muttering a laughing excuse in
Italian, for Fleurissoire was stumbling from fatigue and looked as if he were
drunk. The first uniform had reassured him, but the second made him
uneasy.
“These soldiers are a noisy lot,” thought he. “Fortunately my room is on
the third floor. I prefer to have them below me.”
He had no sooner passed the second floor than a woman in a gaping
dressing-gown, with her hair undone, came running from the other end of
the passage and hailed him.
“She takes me for someone else,” thought he, and hurried on, turning his
eyes away so as not to embarrass her by noticing the scantiness of her attire.
He arrived panting on the third floor, where he found Baptistin; he was
talking Italian to a woman of uncertain age, who reminded him
extraordinarily—though she was not so fat—of the Blafaphas’ cook.
“Your portmanteau is in No. sixteen—the third door. Take care as you
pass of the pail which is in the passage.”
“I put it outside because it was leaking,” explained the woman in French.
The door of No. sixteen was open; outside No. fifteen a tin slop-pail was
standing in the middle of a shiny repugnant-looking puddle, which
Fleurissoire stepped across. An acrid odour emanated from it. The
portmanteau was placed in full view on a chair. As soon as he got inside the
stuffy room, Amédée felt his head swim, and flinging his umbrella, his
shawl and his hat on to the bed, he sank into an arm-chair. His forehead was
streaming; he thought he was going to faint.
“This is Madame Carola, the lady who talks French,” said Baptistin.
They had both come into the room.
“Open the window a little,” sighed Fleurissoire, who was incapable of
movement.
“Goodness! how hot he is!” said Madame Carola, sponging his pallid
and perspiring countenance with a little scented handkerchief, which she
took out of her bodice.
“Let’s push him nearer the window.”
Both together lifted the arm-chair, in which Amédée swung helpless and
half unconscious, and put it down where he was able to inhale—in
exchange for the tainted atmosphere of the passage—the varied stenches of
the street. The coolness, however, revived him. Feeling in his waistcoat
pocket, he pulled out the screw of five lire which he had prepared for
Baptistin:
“Thank you very much. Please leave me now.”
The facchino went out.
“You oughtn’t to have given him such a lot,” said Carola.
She too used the familiar “thou,” which Amédée accepted as a custom of
the country; his one thought now was to go to bed; but Carola showed no
signs of leaving; then, carried away by politeness, he began to talk.
“You speak French as well as a Frenchwoman.”
“No wonder. I come from Paris. And you?”
“I come from the south.”
“I guessed as much. When I saw you, I said to myself, that gentleman
comes from the provinces. Is it your first visit to Italy?”
“My first.”
“Have you come on business?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a lovely place, Rome. There’s a lot to be seen.”
“Yes ... but this evening I’m rather tired,” he ventured; and as though
excusing himself: “I’ve been travelling for three days.”
“It’s a long journey to get here.”
“And I haven’t slept for three nights.”
At those words, Madame Carola, with a sudden Italian familiarity, which
Amédée still couldn’t help being astounded at, chucked him under the chin.
“Naughty!” said she.
This gesture brought a little blood back into Amédée’s face, and in his
desire to repudiate the unfair insinuation, he at once began to expatiate on
fleas, bugs and mosquitoes.
 “You’ll have nothing of that kind here, dearie; you see how clean it is.”
“Yes; I hope I shall sleep well.”
But still she didn’t go. He rose with difficulty from his arm-chair, raised
his hand to the top button of his waistcoat and said tentatively:
“I think I’ll go to bed.”
Madame Carola understood Fleurissoire’s embarrassment.
“You’d like me to leave you for a bit, I see,” said she tactfully.
As soon as she had gone, Fleurissoire turned the key in the lock, took his
night-shirt out of his portmanteau and got into bed. But apparently the catch
of the lock was not working, for before he had time to blow out his candle,
Carola’s head reappeared in the half-opened door—behind the bed—close
to the bed—smiling....

An hour later, when he came to himself, Carola was lying against him, in
his arms, naked.
He disengaged his left arm, which had “fallen asleep,” and then drew
away. She was asleep. A light from the alley below filled the room with its
feeble glimmer, and not a sound was to be heard but the woman’s regular
breathing. An unwonted languor lay heavy on Amédée’s body and soul; he
drew out his thin legs from between the sheets; and sitting on the edge of
the bed, he wept.
As first his sweat, so now his tears washed his face and mingled with the
dust of the railway carriage; they welled up—silently, uninterruptedly, in a
slow and steady stream, coming from his inmost depths, as from a hidden
spring. He thought of Arnica, of Blafaphas, alas! Ah! if they could see him
now! Never again would he dare to take his place beside them. Then he
thought of his august mission, for ever compromised; he groaned below his
breath:
“It’s over! I’m no longer worthy! Oh! it’s over! It’s all over!”
The strange sounds of his sobbing and sighing had in the meantime
awakened Carola. There he was, kneeling now, at the foot of the bed,
hammering on his weakly chest with little blows of his fist; and Carola, lost
in amazement, heard him repeat, as his teeth chattered and his sobs shook
him:
“Save us! Save us! The Church is crumbling!”
 At last, unable to contain herself any longer:
“You poor old dear, what’s wrong with you? Have you gone crazy?”
He turned towards her:
“Please, Madame Carola, leave me. I must—I absolutely must be alone.
I’ll see you to-morrow morning.”
Then, as after all it was only himself that he blamed, he kissed her gently
on the shoulder:
“Ah! you don’t know what a dreadful thing we’ve done. No, no! You
don’t know. You can never know.”

III
The swindling concern that went under the pompous name of Crusade
for the Deliverance of the Pope, extended its shady ramifications through
more than one of the French departments; Protos, the false monk of
Virmontal, was not its only agent, nor the Comtesse de Saint-Prix its only
victim. All its victims, however, were not equally accommodating, even if
all the agents proved equally dexterous. Even Protos, Lafcadio’s old school-
mate, was obliged, after this exploit of his, to keep the sharpest possible
look-out; he lived in continual apprehension that the clergy (the real clergy)
would get wind of the affair, and expended as much ingenuity in covering
his rear as in pushing his attack; but his versatility was great, and,
moreover, he was admirably seconded; from one end to the other of the
band (which went by the name of the Millipede) there reigned extraordinary
harmony and discipline.
Protos was informed that same evening by Baptistin of the stranger’s
arrival, and no little alarmed at hearing that he came from Pau, he hurried
off at seven o’clock the next morning to see Carola. She was still in bed.
The information which he gathered from her, the confused account that
she gave of the events of the previous night, the anguish of the pilgrim (this
was what she called Amédée), his protestations, his tears, left no further
doubt in his mind. Decidedly his Pau preachifying had brought forth fruit—
but not precisely the kind of fruit which Protos might have wished for; he
would have to keep an eye on this simple-minded crusader, whose clumsy
blunderings might give the whole show away....
“Come! let me pass,” said he abruptly to Carola.
 This expression might seem peculiar, because Carola was lying in bed;
but Protos was never one to be stopped by the peculiar. He put one knee on
the bed, passed the other over the woman’s body and pirouetted so cleverly
that, with a slight push of the bed, he found himself between it and the wall.
Carola was no doubt accustomed to this performance, for she asked simply:
“What are you going to do?”
“Make up as a curé,” answered Protos, no less simply.
“Will you come back this way?”
Protos hesitated a moment, and then:
“You’re right; it’s more natural.”
So saying, he stooped and touched the spring of a secret door, which was
concealed in the thickness of the wall and was so low that the bed hid it
completely. Just as he was passing through the door, Carola seized him by
the shoulder.
“Listen,” she said with a kind of gravity, “you’re not to hurt this one. I
won’t have it.”
“I tell you I’m going to make up as a curé.”
As soon as he had disappeared, Carola got up and began to dress.
I cannot exactly tell what to think of Carola Venitequa. This exclamation
of hers leads me to suppose that her heart at that time was not altogether
fundamentally corrupt. Thus sometimes, in the very midst of abjection, the
strangest delicacies of feelings suddenly reveal themselves, just as an azure
tinted flower will grow in the middle of a dung-heap. Essentially
submissive and devoted, Carola, like so many other women, had need of
guidance. When Lafcadio had abandoned her, she had immediately rushed
off to find her old lover, Protos—out of spite—out of self-assertion—to
revenge herself. She had once more gone through hard times—and Protos
had no sooner recovered her than he had once more made her his tool. For
Protos liked being master.
Another man than Protos might have raised, rehabilitated this woman.
But first of all, he must have had the wish to. Protos, on the contrary,
seemed bent on degrading her. We have seen what shameful services the
ruffian demanded of her; it is true that she apparently submitted to them
without much reluctance; but the first impulses of a soul in revolt against
the ignominy of its lot, often pass unperceived by that very soul itself. It is
only in the light of love that the secret kicking against the pricks is revealed.
Was Carola falling in love with Amédée? It would be rash to affirm it; but,
corrupt as she was, she had been touched to emotion by the contact of his
purity, and the exclamation which I have recorded came indubitably from
her heart.
Protos returned. He had not changed his dress. He carried in his hand a
bundle of clothes, which he put down on a chair.
“Well! and now what?” she asked.
“I’ve reflected. I must first go round to the post and look at his letters. I
won’t change till this afternoon. Pass me your looking-glass.”
He went to the window, and bending towards his reflection in the glass,
he fastened to his lip a pair of short brown moustaches, a trifle lighter than
his hair.
“Call Baptistin.”
Carola had finished dressing. She went to the door and pulled a string
hanging near it.
“I’ve already told you I can’t bear to see you in those sleeve-links. They
attract attention.”
“You know very well who gave them to me.”
“Precisely.”
“You aren’t jealous, are you?”
“Silly fool!”
At this moment Baptistin knocked at the door and came in.
“Here! Try and get up in the world a peg or two,” said Protos, pointing to
a coat, collar and tie, which were lying on the chair and which he had
brought back with him from his expedition to the other side of the wall.
“You’re to keep your client company in his walks abroad. I shan’t take him
off your hands till this evening. Until then, don’t lose sight of him.”

It was to S. Luigi dei Francesche that Amédée went to confess, in

preference to St. Peter’s, whose enormousness overwhelmed him. Baptistin
guided him there, and afterwards led him to the post office. As was to be
expected, the Millipede had confederates there too. Baptistin had learnt
Amédée’s name by means of the little visiting-card which was nailed on to
the top of his portmanteau, and had informed Protos, who had no difficulty
in getting an obliging employé to hand him over a letter of Arnica’s—and
no scruple in reading it.
“It’s curious!” cried Fleurissoire, when an hour later he came in his turn
to ask for his letters. “It’s curious! The envelope looks as if it had been
opened.”
“That often happens here,” said Baptistin phlegmatically.
Fortunately the prudent Arnica had ventured only on the most discreet of
allusions. The letter, besides, was very short; she simply recommended
Amédée, on the advice of Father Mure, to go to Naples and see Cardinal
San-Felice S.B. “before attempting to do anything.” Her expressions were
as vague as could well be desired and in consequence as little
compromising.

IV
When he found himself in front of the Castle of St. Angelo, Fleurissoire
was filled with bitter disappointment. The huge mass of building rose from
the middle of an inner court-yard, access to which was forbidden to the
public, and into which only such visitors as were provided with cards were
allowed to enter. It was even specified that they must be accompanied by
one of the guardians.
These excessive precautions, to be sure, confirmed Amédée’s suspicions,
but they also enabled him to estimate the extravagant difficulty of his task.
Fleurissoire then, having at last got rid of Baptistin, was wandering up and
down the quay, which was almost deserted at that hour of the evening, and
alongside the outer wall which defends the approach to the castle.
Backwards and forwards in front of the drawbridge, he passed and repassed,
with gloomy and despondent thoughts; then he would retreat once more to
the bank of the Tiber and endeavour from there to get a better view of the
building over the top of the first enclosure.
He had not hitherto paid any particular attention to a priest (there are so
many of them in Rome) who was sitting on a bench not far from there, and
who, though apparently plunged in his breviary, had been observing him for
some time past. The worthy ecclesiastic had long and abundant locks of
silver, and the freshness of his youthful complexion—the sure sign of purity
of life—contrasted curiously with that apanage of old age. From the face
alone one would have recognised a priest, and from that peculiarly
respectable something which distinguishes him—a French priest. As
Fleurissoire was about to pass by the bench for the third time, the abbé
suddenly rose, came towards him, and in a voice which had in it something
of a sob:
“What!” he said, “I am not the only one! You too are seeking him!”
So saying, he hid his face in his hands and the sobs which he had been
too long controlling burst forth. Then suddenly recovering himself:
“Imprudent! Imprudent that I am! Hide your tears! Stifle your sighs!” ...
Then, seizing Amédée by the arm: “We must not stay here, Sir. We are
observed. The emotion I am unable to master has been remarked already.”
Amédée by this time was following him in a state of stupefaction.
“But how,” he at last managed to ask, “how could you guess what I am
here for?”
“Pray Heaven that no one else has been permitted to suspect it! But how
could your anxious face, your sorrowful looks, as you examined this spot,
escape the notice of one who has haunted it day and night for the last three
weeks? Alas! my dear sir, as soon as I saw you, some presentiment, some
warning from on high, told me that a sister soul.... Hush! Someone is
coming. For Heaven’s sake, pretend complete unconcern.”
A man carrying vegetables was coming along the quay from the opposite
direction. Immediately, without changing his tone of voice, but speaking in
a slightly more animated manner, and as if he were continuing a sentence:
“And that is why Virginia cigars, which some smokers appreciate so
highly, can be lighted only at the flame of a candle, after you have removed
the thin straw, that goes through the middle of them, and whose object is to
keep open a little channel in which the smoke can circulate freely. A
Virginia that doesn’t draw well is fit for nothing but to be thrown away. I
have seen smokers who are particular as to what they smoke, throw away as
many as six, my dear sir, before finding one that suits them....”
And as soon as the man had passed them:
“Did you see how he looked at us? It was essential to put him off the
scent.”
 “What!” cried Fleurissoire, flabbergasted, “is it possible that a common
market gardener can be one of the persons of whom we must beware?”
“I cannot certify that it is so, sir, but I imagine it. The neighbourhood of
this castle is watched with particular care; agents of a special police are
continually patrolling it. In order not to arouse suspicion, they assume the
most varied disguises. The people we have to deal with are so clever—so
clever! And we so credulous, so naturally confiding! But if I were to tell
you, sir, that I was within an ace of ruining everything simply because I
gave my modest luggage to an ordinary-looking facchino to carry from the
station to the lodging where I am staying! He spoke French, and though I
have spoken Italian fluently ever since I was a child ... you yourself, I am
persuaded, would have felt the same emotion.... I couldn’t help giving way
to it when I heard someone speaking my mother tongue in a foreign land....
Well! This facchino....”
“Was he one of them?”
“He was one of them. I was able to make practically sure of it.
Fortunately I had said very little.”
“You fill me with alarm,” said Fleurissoire; “the same thing happened to
me the evening I arrived—yesterday, that is—I fell in with a guide to whom
I entrusted my portmanteau, and who talked French.”
“Good heavens!” cried the curé, struck with terror; “could his name have
been Baptistin?”
“Baptistin! That was it!” wailed Amédée, who felt his knees giving way
beneath him.
“Unhappy man! What did you say to him?” The curé pressed his arm.
“Nothing that I can remember.”
“Think! Think! Try to remember, for Heaven’s sake!”
“No, really!” stammered Amédée, terrified; “I don’t think I said anything
to him.”
“What did you let out?”
“No, nothing, I assure you. But you do well to warn me.”
“What hotel did he take you to?”
“I’m not in a hotel. I’m in private lodgings.”
“God save us! But you must be somewhere.”
 “Oh, I’m in a little street which you certainly don’t know,” stuttered
Fleurissoire, in great confusion. “It’s of no consequence. I won’t stay on
there.”
“Be very careful! If you leave suddenly, it’ll look as if you suspected
something.”
“Yes, perhaps it will. You’re right. I had better not leave at once.”
“How I thank a merciful Heaven that you arrived in Rome to-day! One
day later and I should have missed you! To-morrow—no later than to-
morrow—I’m obliged to leave for Naples in order to see a saintly and
important personage, who is secretly devoting himself to the cause.”
“Could it be the Cardinal San-Felice?” asked Fleurissoire, trembling
with emotion.
The curé took a step or two back in amazement:
“How did you know?” Then drawing nearer: “But why should I be
astonished? He is the only person in Naples who is in the secret.”
“Do you ... know him?”
“Do I know him? Alas! my dear sir, it is to him I owe.... But no matter!
Were you thinking of going to see him?”
“I suppose so; if I must.”
“He is the best of men....” With a rapid whisk of his hand, he wiped the
corner of his eye. “You know where to find him, of course?”
“I suppose anyone could tell me. Everyone knows him in Naples.”
“Naturally! But I don’t suppose you are going to inform all Naples of
your visit. Surely, you can’t have been told of his participation in ... you
know what, and perhaps entrusted with some message for him, without
having been instructed at the same time how to gain access to him.”
“Pardon me,” said Fleurissoire timidly, for Arnica had given him no such
instructions.
“What! were you meaning to go and see him straight off—in the
archbishop’s palace, perhaps!—and speak to him point-blank?”
“I confess that....”
“But are you aware, sir,” went on the other severely, “are you aware that
you run the risk of getting him imprisoned too?”
He seemed so deeply vexed that Fleurissoire did not dare to speak.
 “So sacred a cause confided to such imprudent hands!” murmured
Protos, and he took the end of a rosary out of his pocket, then put it back
again, then crossed himself feverishly; then turning to his companion:
“Pray tell me, sir, who asked you to concern yourself with this matter.
Whose instructions are you obeying?”
“Forgive me, Monsieur l’abbé,” said Fleurissoire in some confusion, “I
was given no instructions by anyone. I am just a poor distraught soul
seeking on my own behalf.”
These humble words disarmed the curé; he held out his hand to
Fleurissoire:
“I spoke to you roughly.... But such dangers surround us.” Then, after a
short hesitation:
“Look here! Will you come with me to-morrow? We will go and see my
friend together....” and raising his eyes to Heaven: “Yes, I dare to call him
my friend,” he repeated in a heartfelt voice. “Let’s sit down for a minute on
this bench. I will write him a line which we will both sign, to give him
notice of our visit. If it is posted before six o’clock (eighteen o’clock, as
they say here), he will get it to-morrow morning in time for him to be ready
to receive us by twelve; we might even, I dare say, have lunch with him.”
They sat down. Protos took a note-book from his pocket, and under
Amédée’s haggard eyes began on a virgin sheet as follows:
“Dear old cock....”
Then, seeing the other’s stupefaction, he smiled very calmly:
“So, it’s the Cardinal you’d have addressed if you’d had your way?”
After that he became more amicable and consented to explain things to
Amédée: once a week the Cardinal San-Felice was in the habit of leaving
the archbishop’s palace in the dress of a simple abbé; he became plain
chaplain Bardolotti and made his way to a modest villa on the slopes of
Mount Vomero, where he received a few intimate friends, and the secret
letters which the initiated addressed him under his assumed name. But even
in this vulgar disguise, he could feel no security—he could not be sure that
his letters were not opened in the post, and begged therefore that nothing of
any significance should be said in any letter and that the tone of a letter
should in no way suggest his Eminence, or have in it the slightest trace of
respect.
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