Chapter 43 Chapter Forty-Two

In the middle of the night, a message came to him, and he left home immediately.The city outside refuses to sleep, as if back in the old days when the nightlife was plentiful. It was just dawn when the front door was opened and we heard his footsteps up the stone stairs. "Welcome home, husband," I said quietly. "How are you?" "Your painter has been released." "Ah!" I could feel Ilila looking at me as I covered my mouth with my hands. "So... where's Tommaso?" He was silent for a while. "We can't find a trace of Tommaso. He is no longer in prison. No one knows where he went."

"But...but I think he'll be all right wherever he is. You'll find him." "Yes, we must hope so." But we all know that's not an inference for granted.He is not the first inmate to disappear from prison without a trace.But this time it was Tommaso.His adventures don't end with him lying in a shroud on the back of a corpse truck. "We were lucky. The prison guard was more interested in the news than in the work. When we found him, it wasn't too bad." I wanted to ask more, but knew I'd better not. "Don't worry, Alexandra, your precious artist can still pick up a paintbrush."

"Thank you." I said. "Maybe you should wait to thank me. You haven't heard it all. He was released, but he was also tried. Because he is a foreigner, he got deportation. Effective immediately. I discussed it with your mother I have written him a letter of introduction to my acquaintance in Rome. He will be safe there. If his talent is still there, I think they will employ him. He has been sent off." Has been dispatched!What did I think of?Does that mean that he has no chance of redeeming his freedom?I saw my husband looking at me, and I thought I saw a sadness in his face that I had never seen before.I swallowed, "What else can you do for Tommaso?"

He shrugged. "We can keep looking. If he's still in Florence, we'll find him." He looked exhausted.I took his hand and he watched, but nothing happened. "How's it going in town?" I asked. "Has the burning been held?" He shook his head. "Ah, it's getting more and more like a farce. The Franciscan friar said he would only go through the flames with Savonarola and no one else. So another friar took his place." "It's so boring. Why doesn't City Hall stop it?" "Because people are going crazy about it. All they can do is try to limit the damage and criticize these monks to people who will listen. They're like rats on a sinking ship, all trying to jump out, but Afraid of waves."

The burning is scheduled for the day before Palm Sunday.Under gray skies, the Franciscans arrived on time to show humility and respect to their supporters.Instead, their opponents learned the power of drama from Savonarola, arriving infuriatingly late.They eventually walked into the town hall square, carrying a huge cross in front of them, and sang devout carols in procession.Savonarola came last, holding aloft the consecrated communion with an air of contempt. This was so intolerable to the Franciscan friars that they demanded the immediate removal of the communion bread from his excommunicated hands.Savonarola's substitute, the friar Dominican, proclaimed that he was going to walk into the fire with the communion wafer and the crucifix, prompting an even bigger row.Because the Franciscan friar refused to go through the fire with him.Eventually, after a round of furious negotiations, the Dominican friar agreed to drop the cross but still carry the communion wafer.While they were arguing, the fire on the front porch grew a lot more.

While they were still babbling, God, enraged by their arrogance and noise, tore the sky with a great thunderstorm, which turned into a torrential rain, pouring down on the burning woodpile, and filling the square with smoke and confusion.Dusk fell on the Town Hall Square, and God rescued them by his supreme magic, made a decision for them, suspended both sides, and ordered everyone to go home.