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him except under the name of Comrade Tarocci, he bared his head and reached into his pocket
for the crucifix concealed in a fountain pen. He held it up over their heads and they fell on to their
knees before him, even Comrade Petrovna, the captain and the crew. Only Comrade Oregov
kept his cap pulled down over his eyes and clung to the stairway which led to the bridge, boking
at the sight with amazement.
'Lord,' Don Camillo prayed, 'have mercy on Your unfortunate children....'
As he spoke a wave dashed against, the side of the ship and another threatened to break
over the deck.
'Ego vos absolvo a peccatis vestris, in nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti....'
He traced a sign of the cross in the stormy air, and his hearers crossed themselves and crept
forward to kiss the crucifix. A mountain of water broke over the deck, but God had other designs
for them and did not allow it to sweep them away. They rose to their feet, suddenly confident that
the worst was over. All of them had noticed that Comrade Oregov had neither taken off his cap
nor fallen to his knees, but only now did they mentally question the consequences. He was
standing stock-still, with clenched jaws and blazing eyes. Comrade Nadia Petrovna, the captain
and the members of the crew were alarmed by his menacing stare, but the Italians were so happy
to be alive they paid no attention.
The ship was still shaken by the storm, but the sailors were able to man the pumps while the
passengers went to wring out their drenched clothes. Comrade Oregov's attitude was quickly
forgotten. As the storm gradually subsided shipboard life returned to normal. Two hours later men
were talking among themselves just as they did every day. After all, nothing so very extraordinary
had happened. A heavy sea, decks awash with water, a shattered porthole, two lifeboats swept
away the everyday occurrences of a sea voyage. No one thought of Comrade Oregov until the
ship reached port and Comrade Nadia Petrovna mentioned his name. The gangplank was in
place and Peppone and his group were about to walk down it when Comrade Nadia Petrovna
planted herself in their way.
'We must wait for Comrade Oregov,' she said with a tremor in her voice.
Just then the captain came along and led her away below deck. He brought her back a few
minutes later and smilingly shook Don Camillo's hand.
'Kak trevòga, tak do Bògo,' he said.
'We can disembark,' Comradk Petrovna explained. 'Unfortunately one of the last waves
carried Comrade Oregov away. The Party has lost an able and devoted servant. A valiant soldier
is dead.'
When they set foot on land, Don Camillo looked anxiously out to sea, half-expecting to see
the ghost of Comrade Oregov between the lowering clouds and the storm-tossed water.
'May God forgive you your sins!' he said to himseIf, trying to convince himself of the truth of
the captain's story. If the captain had written in his log that two lifeboats and Comrade Oregov
had been lost at sea, what reason was there to doubt him ?
*
The departure of the Berlin plane was delayed by the storm. In the bus which carried them to
the airfield Don Camillo found himself sitting across from Comrade Scamoggia.
'Well, Comrade,' he said,'the time has come to say good-bye. You'll be staying on after we
have gone away.'
'No, I'm going with you,' Scamoggia replied.
'Wasn't Comrade Petrovna able to persuade you to stay ?'
'I never even mentioned the possibility. I feel I'm still needed by the Italian Communist Party.'
'Very good, Comrade! A Party stalwart must subordinate love to duty.'
Comrade Scamoggia sighed and looked out of the window. The bus came to a stop at the
airfield gate and they all got out. Comrade Nadia Petrovna and Peppone went into the office with
the group's travelling papers. The police official glanced over them and passed on the list of
names to his interpreter, who proceeded to call them out one by one.
'Pietro Bacciga....'
Bacciga came in, and both Peppone and Comrade Petrovna confirmed his identity. When his
name had been checked, Comrades Capece, Gibetti, Li Friddi and Peratto followed.
'Walter Rondella....'
Peppone forgot that Comrade Rondella had been ignominiously shipped back home. He
looked up and saw the Neapolitan barber whom they had met at the Tifiz kolkhos standing
brazenly before him. Already he had approved the fellow's name as that of Rondella and
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