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diff --git a/old/3530-8.txt b/old/3530-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..84617bf --- /dev/null +++ b/old/3530-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10063 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Love-at-Arms, by Raphael Sabatini + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Love-at-Arms + +Author: Raphael Sabatini + +Posting Date: February 9, 2009 [EBook #3530] +Release Date: 2002 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOVE-AT-ARMS *** + + + + +Produced by John Stuart Middleton + + + + + +LOVE-AT-ARMS + +Being a narrative excerpted from the chronicles of Urbino during the +dominion of the High and Mighty Messer Guidobaldo da Montefeltro + + +By Raphael Sabatini + + + + + "Le donne, i cavalier', l'arme, gli amori, + Le cortesie, l'audace imprese io canto." + + ARIOSTO + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER + + I. VOX POPULI + + II. ON A MOUNTAIN PATH + + III. SACKCLOTH AND MOTLEY + + IV. MONNA VALENTINA + + V. GIAN MARIA + + VI. THE AMOROUS DUKE + + VII. GONZAGA THE INSIDIOUS + + VIII. AMONG THE DREGS OF WINE + + IX. THE "TRATTA DI CORDE" + + X. THE BRAYING OF AN ASS + + XI. WANDERING KNIGHTS + + XII. THE FOOL'S INQUISITIVENESS + + XIII. GIAN MARIA MAKES A VOW + + XIV. FORTEMANI DRINKS WATER + + XV. THE MERCY OF FRANCESCO + + XVI. GONZAGA UNMASKS + + XVII. THE ENEMY + +XVIII. TREACHERY + + XIX. PLOT AND COUNTERPLOT + + XX. THE LOVERS + + XXI. THE PENITENT + + XXII. A REVELATION + +XXIII. IN THE ARMOURY TOWER + + XXIV. THE INTERRUPTED MASS + + XXV. THE CAPITULATION OF ROCCALEONE + + + + +CHAPTER I. VOX POPULI + + +From the valley, borne aloft on the wings of the evening breeze, rose +faintly the tolling of an Angelus bell, and in a goat-herd's hut on the +heights above stood six men with heads uncovered and bowed, obeying +its summons to evening prayer. A brass lamp, equipped with three beaks, +swung from the grimy ceiling, and, with more smoke than flame, shed +an indifferent light, and yet a more indifferent smell, throughout the +darkening hovel. But it sufficed at least to reveal in the accoutrements +and trappings of that company a richness that was the more striking by +contrast with the surrounding squalor. + +As the last stroke of the Ave Maria faded on the wind that murmured +plaintively through the larches of the hillside, they piously crossed +themselves, and leisurely resuming their head-gear, they looked at one +another with questioning glances. Yet before any could voice the inquiry +that was in the minds of all, a knock fell upon the rotten timbers of +the door. + +"At last!" exclaimed old Fabrizio da Lodi, in a voice charged with +relief, whilst a younger man of good shape and gay garments strode to +the door in obedience to Fabrizio's glance, and set it wide. + +Across the threshold stepped a tall figure under a wide, featherless +hat, and wrapped in a cloak which he loosened as he entered, revealing +the very plainest of raiment beneath. A leather hacketon was tightened +at the waist by a girdle of hammered steel, from which depended on his +left a long sword with ringed, steel quillons, whilst from behind his +right hip peeped the hilt of a stout Pistoja dagger. His hose of red +cloth vanished into boots of untanned leather, laced in front and turned +down at the knees, and completed in him the general appearance of a +mercenary in time of peace, in spite of which the six nobles, in that +place of paradoxes, bared their heads anew, and stood in attitudes of +deferential attention. + +He paused a moment to throw off his cloak, of which the young man who +had admitted him hastened to relieve him as readily as if he had been +born a servitor. He next removed his hat, and allowed it to remain +slung from his shoulders, displaying, together with a still youthful +countenance of surpassing strength and nobility, a mane of jet-black +hair coiffed in a broad net of gold thread--the only article of apparel +that might have suggested his station to be higher than at first had +seemed. + +He stepped briskly to the coarse and grease-stained table, about which +the company was standing, and his black eyes ran swiftly over the faces +that confronted him. + +"Sirs," he said at last, "I am here. My horse went lame a half-league +beyond Sant' Angelo, and I was constrained to end the journey on foot." + +"Your Excellency will be tired," cried Fabrizio, with that ready +solicitude which is ever at the orders of the great. "A cup of Puglia +wine, my lord. Here, Fanfulla," he called, to the young nobleman who had +acted as usher. But the new-comer silenced him and put the matter aside +with a gesture. + +"Let that wait. Time imports as you little dream. It may well be, +illustrious sirs, that had I not come thus I had not come at all." + +"How?" cried one, expressing the wonder that rose in every mind, even as +on every countenance some consternation showed. "Are we betrayed?" + +"If you are in case to fear betrayal, it may well be, my friends. As I +crossed the bridge over the Metauro and took the path that leads hither, +my eyes were caught by a crimson light shining from a tangle of bushes +by the roadside. That crimson flame was a reflection of the setting sun +flashed from the steel cap of a hidden watcher. The path took me nearer, +and with my hat so set that it might best conceal my face, I was all +eyes. And as I passed the spot where that spy was ambushed, I discerned +among the leaves that might so well have screened him, but that the sun +had found his helmet out, the evil face of Masuccio Torri." There was a +stir among the listeners, and their consternation increased, whilst one +or two changed colour. "For whom did he wait? That was the question +that I asked myself, and I found the answer that it was for me. If I was +right, he must also know the distance I had come, so that he would not +look to see me afoot, nor yet, perhaps, in garments such as these. +And so, thanks to all this and to the hat and cloak in which I closely +masked myself, he let me pass unchallenged." + +"By the Virgin!" exclaimed Fabrizio hotly, "I'll swear your conclusions +were wrong. In all Italy it was known to no man beyond us six that you +were to meet us here, and with my hand upon the Gospels I could swear +that not one of us has breathed of it." + +He looked round at his companions as if inviting them to bear out his +words, and they were not slow to confirm what he had sworn, in terms +as vehement as his own, until in the end the new-comer waved them into +silence. + +"Nor have I breathed it," he assured them, "for I respected your +injunction, Messer Fabrizio. Still--what did Masuccio there, hidden like +a thief, by the roadside? Sirs," he continued, in a slightly altered +tone, "I know not to what end you have bidden me hither, but if aught of +treason lurks in your designs, I cry you beware! The Duke has knowledge +of it, or at least, suspicion. If that spy was not set to watch for +me, why, then, he was set to watch for all, that he may anon inform his +master what men were present at this meeting." + +Fabrizio shrugged his shoulders in a contemptuous indifference which was +voiced by his neighbour Ferrabraccio. + +"Let him be informed," sneered the latter, a grim smile upon his rugged +face. "The knowledge will come to him too late." + +The new-comer threw back his head, and a look that was half wonder, half +enlightenment gleamed in the black depths of his imperious eyes. He took +a deep breath. + +"It would seem, sirs, that I was right," said he, with a touch of +sternness, "and that treason is indeed your business." + +"My Lord of Aquila," Fabrizio answered him, "we are traitors to a man +that we may remain faithful and loyal to a State." + +"What State?" barked the Lord of Aquila contemptuously. + +"The Duchy of Babbiano," came the answer. + +"You would be false to the Duke that you may be faithful to the Duchy?" +he questioned, scorn running ever stronger in his voice. "Sirs, it is a +riddle I'll not pretend to solve." + +There fell a pause in which they eyed one another, and their glances +were almost as the glances of baffled men. They had not looked for +such a tone from him, and they questioned with their eyes and minds the +wisdom of going further. At last, with a half-sigh, Fabrizio da Lodi +turned once more to Aquila. + +"Lord Count," he began, in a calm, impressive voice, "I am an old man; +the name I bear and the family from which I spring are honourable alike. +You cannot think so vilely of me as to opine that in my old age I should +do aught to smirch the fair fame of the one or of the other. To be named +a traitor, sir, is to be given a harsh title, and one, I think, that +could fit no man less than it fits me or any of these my companions. +Will you do me the honour, then, to hear me out, Excellency; and when +you have heard me, judge us. Nay, more than judgment we ask of you, Lord +Count. We ask for guidance that we may save our country from the ruin +that threatens it, and we promise you that we will take no step that has +not your sanction--that is not urged by you." + +Francesco del Falco, Count of Aquila, eyed the old noble with a glance +that had changed whilst he spoke, so that from scornful that it had +been, it had now grown full of mild wonder and inquiry. He slightly +inclined his head in token of acquiescence. + +"I beg that you will speak," was all he said, and Fabrizio would +forthwith have spoken but that Ferrabraccio intervened to demand that +Aquila should pass them his knightly word not to betray them in the +event of his rejection of the proposals they had to make. When he had +given them his promise, and they had seated themselves upon such rude +stools as the place afforded, Fabrizio resumed his office of spokesman, +and unfolded the business upon which he had invited the Count among +them. + +In a brief preamble he touched upon the character of Gian Maria Sforza, +the reigning Duke of Babbiano--seated upon its throne by his powerful +uncle, Lodovico Sforza, Lord of Milan. He exposed the man's reckless +extravagances, his continued self-indulgence, his carelessness in +matters of statecraft, and his apparent disinclination to fulfil the +duties which his high station imposed upon him. On all this Fabrizio +touched with most commendable discretion and restraint, as was demanded +by the circumstance that in Francesco del Falco he was addressing the +Duke's own cousin. + +"So far, Excellency," he continued, "you cannot be in ignorance of the +general dissatisfaction prevailing among our most illustrious cousin's +subjects. There was the conspiracy of Bacolino, a year ago, which, had +it succeeded, would have cast us into the hands of Florence. It failed, +but another such might not fail again. The increased disfavour of +his Highness may bring more adherents to a fresh conspiracy of this +character, and we should be lost as an independent state. And the peril +that menaces us is the peril of being so lost. Not only by defection +of our own, but by the force of arms of another. That other is Caesar +Borgia. His dominion is spreading like a plague upon the face of this +Italy, which he has threatened to eat up like an artichoke--leaf by +leaf. Already his greedy eyes are turned upon us, and what power +have we--all unready as we are--wherewith successfully to oppose the +overwhelming might of the Duke of Valentinois? All this his Highness +realises, for we have made it more than clear to him, as we have, too, +made clear the remedy. Yet does he seem as indifferent to his danger as +to his salvation. His time is spent in orgies, in dancing, in hawking +and in shameful dalliance, and if we dare throw out a word of warning, +threats and curses are the only answer we receive." + +Da Lodi paused, as if growing conscious that his manner was becoming +over-vehement. But of this, his companions, at least, were all +unconscious, for they filled the pause with a murmur of angry +confirmation. Francesco wrinkled his brow, and sighed. + +"I am--alas!--most fully conscious of this danger you speak of. +But--what do you expect of me? Why bear me your grievance? I am no +statesman." + +"Here is no statesman needed, lord. It is a soldier Babbiano requires; +a martial spirit to organise an army against the invasion that must +come--that is coming already. In short, Lord Count, we need such a +warrior as are you. What man is there in all Italy--or, indeed, what +woman or what child--that has not heard of the prowess of the Lord of +Aquila? Your knightly deeds in the wars 'twixt Pisa and Florence, your +feats of arms and generalship in the service of the Venetians, are +matters for the making of epic song." + +"Messer Fabrizio!" murmured Paolo, seeking to restrain his eulogistic +interlocutor, what time a faint tinge crept into his bronzed cheeks. But +Da Lodi continued, all unheeding: + +"And shall you, my lord, who have borne yourself so valiantly as a +condottiero in the service of the stranger, hesitate to employ your +skill and valour against the enemies of your own homeland? Not so, +Excellency. We know the patriotic soul of Francesco del Falco, and we +count upon it." + +"And you do well," he answered firmly. "When the time comes you shall +find me ready. But until then, and touching such preparation as must be +made--why do you not address his Highness as you do me?" + +A sad smile crossed the noble face of Lodi, whilst Ferrabraccio laughed +outright in chill contempt, and with characteristic roughness made +answer: + +"Shall we speak to him," he cried, "of knightly deeds, of prowess, and +of valour? I would as lief enjoin Roderigo Borgia to fulfil the sacred +duties of his Vicarship; I might as profitably sprinkle incense on a +dunghill. What we could say to Gian Maria we have said, and since it had +been idle to have appealed to him as we have appealed to you, we +have shown him yet another way by which Babbiano might be saved and +Valentino's onslaught averted." + +"Ah! And this other way?" inquired the Count, his glance wandering back +to Fabrizio. + +"An alliance with the house of Urbino," answered Lodi. "Guidobaldo has +two nieces. We have sounded him, and we have found him well disposed +towards such a marriage as we suggested. Allied thus to the house of +Montefeltro, we should receive not only assistance from Guidobaldo, +but also from the lords of Bologna, Perugia, Camerino, and some smaller +states whose fortunes are linked already to that of Urbino. Thus we +should present to Cesar Borgia a coalition so strong that he would never +dare to bring a lance into our territory." + +"I heard some talk of it," said Paolo. "It would have been a wise step +indeed. Pity that the negotiations came to naught!" + +"But why did they come to naught? Body of Satan!--why?" roared the +impetuous Ferrabraccio, as with his mighty fist he smote the table +a blow that well-nigh shattered it. "Because Gian Maria was not in a +marrying mood! The girl we proposed to him was beautiful as an angel; +but he would not so much as look. There was a woman in Babbiano who----" + +"My lord," cut in Fabrizio hastily, fearing the lengths to which the +other might go, "it is as Ferrabraccio says. His Highness would not +marry. And this it is has led us to invite you to meet us here to-night. +His Highness will do nothing to save the Duchy, and so we turn to you. +The people are with us; in every street of Babbiano are you spoken of +openly as the duke they would have govern them and defend their homes. +In the sacred name of the people, then," the old man concluded, rising, +and speaking in a voice shaken by emotion, "and with the people's +voice, of which we are but the mouthpiece, we now offer you the crown +of Babbiano. Return with us to-night, my lord, and to-morrow, with but +twenty spears for escort, we shall ride into Babbiano and proclaim +you Duke. Nor need you fear the slightest opposition. One man only +of Babbiano--that same Masuccio whom you tell us that you saw +to-night--remains faithful to Gian Maria; faithful because he and the +fifty Swiss mercenaries at his heels are paid to be so. Up, my lord! +Let your own good sense tell you whether an honest man need scruple +to depose a prince whose throne knows no defence beyond the hired +protection of fifty foreign spears." + +A silence followed that impassioned speech. Lodi remained standing, +the others sat, their eager glances turned upon the Count, their ears +anxiously alert for his reply. Thus they remained for a brief spell, +Aquila himself so still that he scarcely seemed to breathe. + +He sat, gripping the arms of his chair, his head fallen forward until +his chin rested on his breast, a frown darkening his lofty brow. And +whilst they waited for his answer, a mighty battle was fought out within +his soul. The power so suddenly, so unexpectedly, thrust within his +reach, and offered him if he would but open his hands to grasp it, +dazzled him for one little moment. As in a flash he saw himself Lord of +Babbiano. He beheld a proud career of knightly deeds that should cause +his name and that of Babbiano to ring throughout the length and breadth +of Italy. From the obscure state that it was, his patriotism and +his skill as a condottiero should render it one of the great Italian +powers--the rival of Florence, of Venice or Milan. He had a vision of +widened territories, and of neighbouring lords becoming vassals to his +might. He saw himself wresting Romagna mile by mile from the sway of the +ribald Borgia, hunting him to the death as he was wont to hunt the boar +in the marshes of Commachio, or driving him into the very Vatican to +seek shelter within his father's gates--the last strip of soil that he +would leave him to lord it over. He dreamt of a Babbiano courted by the +great republics, and the honour of its alliance craved by them that they +might withstand the onslaughts of French and Spaniard. All this he saw +in that fleeting vision of his, and Temptation caught his martial spirit +in a grip of steel. And then another picture rose before his eyes. What +would he do in times of peace? His was a soul that pined in palaces. He +was born to the camp, and not to the vapid air of courts. In exchange +for this power that was offered him what must he give? His glorious +liberty. Become their lord in many things, to be their slave in more. +Nominally to rule, but actually to be ruled, until, should he fail to +do his rulers' will, there would be some night another meeting such as +this, in which men would plot to encompass his downfall and to supplant +him as he was invited to supplant Gian Maria. Lastly, he bethought +him of the man whose power he was bidden to usurp. His own cousin, his +father's sister's son, in whose veins ran the same blood as in his own. + +He raised his head at last, and met those anxious faces on which the +fitful light was casting harsh shadows. The pale ghost of a smile +hovered for a second on the corners of his stern mouth. + +"I thank you, sirs, for the honour you have done me," he made answer +slowly, "an honour of which I fear I am all unworthy." + +In strenuous chorus their voices rose to contradict him. + +"At least, then, an honour which I cannot accept." + +There was a moment's silence, and their faces from eager that they had +been, grew downcast to the point of sullenness. + +"But why, my lord?" cried old Fabrizio at last, his arms outstretched +towards the Count, his voice quivering with intensity. "Santissima +Vergine! Why?" + +"Because--to give you but one reason out of many--the man you ask me to +overthrow and supplant is of my own blood." And but that his tone was +calm they might have held that he rebuked them. + +"I had thought," hazarded seriously the gay Fanfulla, "that with such a +man as your Excellency, patriotism and the love of Babbiano would have +weighed even more than the ties of blood." + +"And you had thought well, Fanfulla. Did I not say that the reason I +gave you was but one of many? Tell me, sirs, what cause have you to +believe that I should rule you wisely and well? It so chances that in +the crisis now threatening Babbiano a captain is needed for its ruler. +But let not this delude you, for there may come a season in the fortunes +of the State when such a man might be as unfitted for dominion as is the +present Duke in this. What then? A good knight-errant is an indifferent +courtier and a bad statesman. Lastly, my friends--since you must know +all that is in my heart--there remains the fact that I love myself a +little. I love my liberty too well, and I have no mind to stifle in +the scented atmosphere of courts. You see I am frank with you. It is my +pleasure to roam the world, my harness on my back, free as the blessed +wind of heaven. Shall a ducal crown and a cloak of purple----" He broke +off sharply with a laugh. "There, my friends! You have had reasons and +to spare. Again I thank you, and deplore that being such as I am, I may +not become such as you would have me." + +He sank back in his chair, eyeing them with a glance never so wistful, +and after a second's silence, Da Lodi's voice implored him, in accents +that trembled with pathetic emphasis, to reconsider his resolve. The old +man would have proceeded to fresh argument, but Aquila cut him short. + +"I have already so well considered it, Messer Fabrizio," he answered +resolutely, "that nothing now could sway me. But this, sirs, I will +promise you: I will ride with you to Babbiano, and I will seek to reason +with my cousin. More will I do; I will seek at his hands the office of +Gonfalonier, and if he grant it me; I will so reorganise our forces, and +enter into such alliances with our neighbours as shall ensure, at least +in some degree, the safety of our State." + +Still they endeavoured to cajole him, but he held firm against their +efforts, until in the end, with a sorrowful mien, Da Lodi thanked him +for his promise to use his influence with Gian Maria. + +"For this, at least, we thank your Excellency, and on our part we shall +exert such power as we still wield in Babbiano to the end that the high +office of Gonfalonier be conferred upon you. We had preferred to see you +fill with honour a position higher still, and should you later come to +consider----" + +"Dismiss your hopes of that," put in the Count, with a solemn shake +of his head. And then, before another word was uttered, young Fanfulla +degli Arcipreti leapt of a sudden to his feet, his brows knit, and an +expression of alarm spreading upon his comely face. A second he +remained thus; then, going swiftly to the door, he opened it, and stood +listening, followed by the surprised glances of the assembled company. +But it needed not the warning cry with which he turned, to afford them +the explanation of his odd behaviour. In the moment's tense silence that +had followed his sudden opening of the door they had caught from without +the distant fall of marching feet. + + + + +CHAPTER II. ON A MOUNTAIN PATH + + +"Armed men, my lords!" had been Fanfulla's cry. "We are betrayed!" + +They looked at one another with stern eyes, and with that grimness that +takes the place which fear would hold in meaner souls. + +Then Aquila rose slowly to his feet, and with him rose the others, +looking to their weapons. He softly breathed a name--"Masuccio Torri." + +"Aye," cried Lodi bitterly, "would that we had heeded your warning! +Masuccio it will be, and at his heels his fifty mercenaries." + +"Not less, I'll swear, by the sound of them," said Ferrabraccio. "And we +but six, without our harness." + +"Seven," the Count laconically amended, resuming his hat and loosening +his sword in its scabbard. + +"Not so, my lord," exclaimed Lodi, laying a hand upon the Count's arm. +"You must not stay with us. You are our only hope--the only hope of +Babbiano. If we are indeed betrayed--though by what infernal means I +know not--and they have knowledge that six traitors met here to-night to +conspire against the throne of Gian Maria, at least, I'll swear, it is +not known that you were to have met us. His Highness may conjecture, +but he cannot know for sure, and if you but escape, all may yet he +well--saving with us, who matter not. Go, my lord! Remember your promise +to seek at your cousin's hand the gonfalon, and may God and His blessed +Saints prosper your Excellency." + +The old man caught the young man's hand, and bending his head until his +face was hidden in his long white hair, he imprinted a kiss of fealty +upon it. But Aquila was not so easily to be dismissed. + +"Where are your horses?" he demanded. + +"Tethered at the back. But who would dare ride them at night adown this +precipice?" + +"I dare for one," answered the young man steadily, "and so shall you all +dare. A broken neck is the worst that can befall us, and I would as +lief break mine on the rocks of Sant' Angelo as have it broken by the +executioner of Babbiano." + +"Bravely said, by the Virgin!" roared Ferrabraccio. "To horse, sirs!" + +"But the only way is the way by which they come," Fanfulla remonstrated. +"The rest is sheer cliff." + +"Why, then, my sweet seducer, we'll go to meet them," rejoined +Ferrabraccio gaily. "They are on foot, and we'll sweep over them like a +mountain torrent. Come, sirs, hasten! They draw nigh." + +"We have but six horses, and we are seven," another objected. + +"I have no horse," said Francesco, "I'll follow you afoot." + +"What?" cried Ferrabraccio, who seemed now to have assumed command of +the enterprise. "Let our St. Michael bring up the rear! No, no. You, Da +Lodi, you are too old for this work." + +"Too old?" blazed the old man, drawing himself up to the full height of +what was still a very imposing figure, and his eyes seeming to take +fire at this reflection upon his knightly worth. "Were the season other, +Ferrabraccio, I could crave leave to show you how much of youth there is +still left in me. But----" He paused. His angry eyes had alighted upon +the Count, who stood waiting by the door, and the whole expression +of his countenance changed. "You are right, Ferrabraccio, I grow old +indeed--a dotard. Take you my horse, and begone." + +"But you?" quoth the Count solicitously. + +"I shall remain. If you do your duty well by those hirelings they will +not trouble me. It will not occur to them that one was left behind. They +will think only of following you after you have cut through them. Go, +go, sirs, or all is lost." + +They obeyed him now with a rush that seemed almost to partake of panic. +In a frenzied haste Fanfulla and another tore the tetherings loose, and +a moment later they were all mounted and ready for that fearful ride. +The night was dark, yet not too dark. The sky was cloudless and thickly +starred, whilst a minguant moon helped to illumine the way by which they +were to go. But on that broken and uncertain mountain path the shadows +lay thickly enough to make their venture desperate. + +Ferrabraccio claiming a better knowledge than his comrades of the way, +placed himself at their head, with the Count beside him. Behind them, +two by two, came the four others. They stood on a small ledge in +the shadow of the great cliff that loomed on their left. Thence the +mountain-side might be scanned--as well as in such a light it was to be +discerned. The tramp of feet had now grown louder and nearer, and with +it came the clank of armour. In front of them lay the path which sloped, +for a hundred yards or more, to the first corner. Below them, on the +right, the path again appeared at the point where it jutted out for some +half-dozen yards in its zigzag course, and there Fanfulla caught the +gleam of steel, reflecting the feeble moonlight. He drew Ferrabraccio's +attention to it, and that stout warrior at once gave the word to start. +But Francesco interposed. + +"If we do so," he objected, "we shall come upon them past the corner, +and at that corner we shall be forced to slacken speed to avoid being +carried over the edge of the cliff. Besides, in such a strait our horses +may fail us, and refuse the ground. In any event, we shall not descend +upon them with the same force as we shall carry if we wait until they +come into a straight line with us. The shadows here will screen us from +them meanwhile." + +"You are right, Lord Count. We will wait," was the ready answer. And +what time they waited he grumbled lustily. + +"To be caught in such a trap as this! Body of Satan! It was a madness to +have met in a hut with but one approach." + +"We might perhaps have retreated down the cliff behind," said Francesco. + +"We might indeed--had we been sparrows or mountain cats. But being men, +the way we go is the only way--and a mighty bad way it is. I should like +to be buried at Sant' Angelo, Lord Count," he continued whimsically. "It +will be conveniently near; for once I go over the mountain-side, I'll +swear naught will stop me until I reach the valley--a parcel of broken +bones." + +"Steady, my friends," murmured the voice of Aquila. "They come." + +And round that fateful corner they were now swinging into view--a +company in steel heads and bodies with partisan on shoulder. A moment +they halted now, so that the waiting party almost deemed itself +observed. But it soon became clear that the halt was to the end that the +stragglers might come up. Masuccio was a man who took no chances; every +knave of his fifty would he have before he ventured the assault. + +"Now," murmured the Count, tightening his hat upon his brow, so that +it might the better mask his features. Then rising in his stirrups, +and raising his sword on high, he let his voice be heard again. But no +longer in a whisper. Like a trumpet-call it rang, echoed and re-echoed +up the mountain-side. + +"Forward! St. Michael and the Virgin!" + +That mighty shout, followed as it was by a thunder of hooves, gave pause +to the advancing mercenaries. Masuccio's voice was heard, calling to +them to stand firm; bidding them kneel and ward the charge with +their pikes; assuring them with curses that they had but to deal with +half-dozen men. But the mountain echoes were delusive, and that thunder +of descending hooves seemed to them not of a half-dozen but of a +regiment. Despite Masuccio's imprecations the foremost turned, and in +that moment the riders were upon them, through them and over them, like +the mighty torrent of which Ferrabraccio had spoken. + +A dozen Swiss went down beneath that onslaught, and another dozen that +had been swept aside and over the precipice were half-way to the valley +before that cavalcade met any check. Masuccio's remaining men strove +lustily to stem this human cataract, now that they realised how small +was the number of their assailants. They got their partisans to work, +and for a few moments the battle raged hot upon that narrow way. The air +was charged with the grind and ring of steel, the stamping of men and +horses and the shrieks and curses of the maimed. + +The Lord of Aquila, ever foremost, fought desperately on. Not only with +his sword fought he, but with his horse as well. Rearing the beast on +its hind legs, he would swing it round and let it descend where least it +was expected, laying about him with his sword at the same time. In vain +they sought to bring down his charger with their pikes; so swift and +furious was his action, that before their design could be accomplished, +he was upon those that meditated it, scattering them out of reach to +save their skins. + +In this ferocious manner he cleared a way before him, and luck served +him so well that what blows were wildly aimed at him as he dashed by +went wide of striking him. At last he was all but through the press, and +but three men now fronted him. Again his charger reared, snorting, and +pawing the air like a cat, and two of the three knaves before him fled +incontinently aside. But the third, who was of braver stuff, dropped on +one knee and presented his pike at the horse's belly. Francesco made a +wild attempt to save the roan that had served him so gallantly, but he +was too late. It came down to impale itself upon that waiting partisan. +With a hideous scream the horse sank upon its slayer, crushing him +beneath its mighty weight, and hurling its rider forward on to the +ground. In an instant he was up and had turned, for all that he was +half-stunned by his fall and weakened by the loss of blood from +a pike-thrust in the shoulder--of which he had hitherto remained +unconscious in the heat of battle. Two mercenaries were bearing down +upon him--the same two that had been the last to fall back before him. +He braced himself to meet them, thinking that his last hour was indeed +come, when Fanfulla degli Arcipreti, who had followed him closely +through the press, now descended upon his assailants from behind, and +rode them down. Beside the Count he reined up, and stretched down his +hand. + +"Mount behind me, Excellency," he urged him. + +"There is not time," answered Francesco, who discerned a half-dozen +figures hurrying towards them. "I will cling to your stirrup-leather, +thus. Now spur!" And without waiting for Fanfulla to obey him, he caught +the horse a blow with the flat of his sword across the hams, which sent +it bounding forward. Thus they continued now that perilous descent, +Fanfulla riding, and the Count half-running, half-swinging from his +stirrup. At last, when they had covered a half-mile in this fashion, +and the going had grown easier, they halted that the Count might mount +behind his companion, and as they now rode along at an easier pace +Francesco realised that he and Fanfulla were the only two that had come +through that ugly place. The gallant Ferrabraccio, hero of a hundred +strenuous battles, had gone to the ignoble doom which half in jest he +had prophesied himself. His horse had played him false at the outset of +the charge, and taking fright it had veered aside despite his efforts to +control it, until, losing its foothold, man and beast had gone hurtling +over the cliff. Amerini, Fanfulla had seen slain, whilst the remaining +two, being both unhorsed, would doubtless be the prisoners of Masuccio. + +Some three miles beyond Sant' Angelo, Fanfulla's weary horse splashed +across a ford of the Metauro, and thus, towards the second hour of +night, they gained the territory of Urbino, where for the time they +might hold themselves safe from all pursuit. + + + + +CHAPTER III. SACKCLOTH AND MOTLEY + + +The fool and the friar had fallen a-quarrelling, and--to the shame +of the friar and the glory of the fool be it spoken--their subject of +contention was a woman. Now the friar, finding himself no match for the +fool in words, and being as broad and stout of girth and limb as the +other was puny and misshapen, he had plucked off his sandal that with +it he might drive the full force of his arguments through the jester's +skull. At that the fool, being a very coward, had fled incontinently +through the trees. + +Running, like the fool he was, with his head turned to learn whether the +good father followed him, he never saw the figure that lay half-hidden +in the bracken, and might never have guessed its presence but that +tripping over it he shot forward, with a tinkle of bells, on to his +crooked nose. + +He sat up with a groan, which was answered by an oath from the man into +whose sides he had dug his flying feet. The two looked at one another in +surprise, tempered with anger in the one and dismay in the other. + +"A good awakening to you, noble sir," quoth the fool politely; for by +the mien and inches of the man he had roused, he thought that courtesy +might serve him best. + +The other eyed him with interest, as well he might; for an odder figure +it would be hard to find in Italy. + +Hunched of back, under-sized, and fragile of limb, he was arrayed in +doublet, hose and hood, the half of which was black the other crimson, +whilst on his shoulders fell from that same hood--which tightly framed +his ugly little face--a foliated cape, from every point of which there +hung a tiny silver bell that glimmered in the sunlight, and tinkled as +he moved. From under bulging brows a pair of bright eyes, set wide as an +owl's, took up the mischievous humour of his prodigious mouth. + +"A curse on you and him that sent you," was the answering greeting he +received. Then the man checked his anger and broke into a laugh at sight +of the fear that sprang into the jester's eyes. + +"I crave your pardon--most humbly do I crave it, Illustrious," said the +fool, still in fear. "I was pursued." + +"Pursued?" echoed the other, in a tone not free from a sudden +uneasiness. "And, pray, by whom?" + +"By the very fiend, disguised in the gross flesh and semblance of a +Dominican brother." + +"Do you jest?" came the angry question. + +"Jest? Had you caught his villainous sandal between your shoulders, as +did I, you would know how little I have a mind to jest." + +"Now answer me a plain question, if you have the wit to answer with," +quoth the other, anger ever rising in his voice. "Is there hereabouts a +monk?" + +"Aye, is there--may a foul plague rot him!--lurking in the bushes +yonder. He is over-fat to run, or you had seen him at my heels, arrayed +in that panoply of avenging wrath that is the cognisance of the Church +Militant." + +"Go bring him hither," was the short answer. + +"Gesů!" gasped the fool, in very real affright. "I'll not go near him +till his anger cools--not if you made me straight and bribed me with the +Patrimony of St. Peter." + +The man turned from him impatiently, and rising his voice: + +"Fanfulla!" he called over his shoulder, and then, after a moment's +pause, again: "Olá, Fanfulla!" + +"I am here, my lord," came an answering voice from behind a clump of +bushes on their right, and almost immediately the very splendid youth +who had gone to sleep in its shadow stood up and came round to them. +At sight of the fool he paused to take stock of him, what time the fool +returned the compliment with wonder-stricken interest. For however much +Fanfulla's raiment might have suffered in yesternight's affray, it was +very gorgeous still, and in the velvet cap upon his head a string of +jewels was entwined. Yet not so much by the richness of his trappings +was the fool impressed, as by the fact that one so manifestly noble +should address by such a title, and in a tone of so much deference, this +indifferently apparelled fellow over whom he had stumbled. Then his gaze +wandered back to the man who lay supported on his elbow, and he noticed +now the gold net in which his hair was coiffed, and which was by no +means common to mean folk. His little twinkling eyes turned their +attention full upon the face before him, and of a sudden a gleam of +recognition entered them. His countenance underwent a change, and from +grotesque that it had been, it became more grotesque still in its hasty +assumption of reverence. + +"My Lord of Aquila!" he murmured, scrambling to his feet. + +Scarcely had he got erect when a hand gripped him by the shoulder, and +Fanfulla's dagger flashed before his startled eyes. + +"Swear on the cross of this, never to divulge his Excellency's presence +here, or take you the point of it in your foolish heart." + +"I swear, I swear!" he cried, in fearful haste, his hand upon the hilt, +which Fanfulla now held towards him. + +"Now fetch the priest, good fool," said the Count, with a smile at the +hunchback's sudden terror. "You have nothing to fear from us." + +When the jester had left them to go upon his errand, Francesco turned to +his companion. + +"Fanfulla, you are over-cautious," he said, with an easy smile. "What +shall it matter that I am recognised?" + +"I would not have it happen for a kingdom while you are so near Sant' +Angelo. The six of us who met last night are doomed--those of us who are +not dead already. For me, and for Lodi if he was not taken, there may be +safety in flight. Into the territory of Babbiano I shall never again set +foot whilst Gian Maria is Duke, unless I be weary of this world. But of +the seventh--yourself--you heard old Lodi swear that the secret could +not have transpired. Yet should his Highness come to hear of your +presence in these parts and in my company, suspicion might set him on +the road that leads to knowledge." + +"Ah! And then?" + +"Then?" returned the other, eyeing Francesco in surprise. "Why, then, +the hopes we found on you--the hopes of every man in Babbiano worthy of +the name--would be frustrated. But here comes our friend the fool, and, +in his wake, the friar." + +Fra Domenico--so was he very fitly named, this follower of St. +Dominic--approached with a solemnity that proceeded rather from his +great girth than from any inflated sense of the dignity of his calling. +He bowed before Fanfulla until his great crimson face was hidden, and he +displayed instead a yellow, shaven crown. It was as if the sun had set, +and the moon had risen in its place. + +"Are you skilled in medicine?" quoth Fanfulla shortly. + +"I have some knowledge, Illustrious." + +"Then see to this gentleman's wounds." + +"Eh? Dio mio! You are wounded, then?" he began, turning to the Count, +and he would have added other questions as pregnant, but that Aquila, +drawing aside his hacketon at the shoulder, answered him quickly: + +"Here, sir priest." + +His lips pursed in solicitude, the friar would have gone upon his +knees, but that Francesco, seeing with what labour the movement must be +fraught, rose up at once. + +"It is not so bad that I cannot stand," said he, submitting himself to +the monk's examination. + +The latter expressed the opinion that it was nowise dangerous, however +much it might be irksome, whereupon the Count invited him to bind it up. +To this Fra Domenico replied that he had neither unguents nor linen, but +Fanfulla suggested that he might get these things from the convent of +Acquasparta, hard by, and proffered to accompany him thither. + +This being determined, they departed, leaving the Count in the company +of the jester. Francesco spread his cloak, and lay down again, whilst +the fool, craving his permission to remain, disposed himself upon his +haunches like a Turk. + +"Who is your master, fool?" quoth the Count, in an idle spirit. + +"There is a man who clothes and feeds me, noble sir, but Folly is my +only master." + +"To what end does he do this?" + +"Because I pretend to be a greater fool than he, so that by contrast +with me he seems unto himself wise, which flatters his conceit. Again, +perhaps, because I am so much uglier than he that, again by contrast, he +may account himself a prodigy of beauty." + +"Odd, is it not?" the Count humoured him. + +"Not half so odd as that the Lord of Aquila should lie here, roughly +clad, a wound in his shoulder, talking to a fool." + +Francesco eyed him with a smile. + +"Give thanks to God that Fanfulla is not here to hear you, or they had +been your last words for pretty though he be, Messer Fanfulla is a very +monster of bloodthirstiness. With me it is different. I am a man of very +gentle ways, as you may have heard, Messer Buffoon. But see that you +forget at once my station and my name, or you may realise how little +they need buffoons in the Court of Heaven." + +"My lord, forgive. I shall obey you," answered the hunchback, with a +stricken manner. And then through the glade came a voice--a woman's +voice, wondrous sweet and rich--calling: "Peppino! Peppino!" + +"It is my mistress calling me," quoth the fool, leaping to his feet. + +"So that you own a mistress, though Folly be your only master," laughed +the Count. "It would pleasure me to behold the lady whose property you +have the honour to be, Ser Peppino." + +"You may behold her if you but turn your head," Peppino whispered. + +Idly, with a smile upon his lips that was almost scornful, the Lord of +Aquila turned his eyes in the direction in which the fool was already +walking. And on the instant his whole expression changed. The amused +scorn was swept from his countenance, and in its place there sat now a +look of wonder that was almost awe. + +Standing there, on the edge of the clearing, in which he lay, he beheld +a woman. He had a vague impression of a slender, shapely height, a +fleeting vision of a robe of white damask, a camorra of green velvet, +and a choicely wrought girdle of gold. But it was the glory of her +peerless face that caught and held his glance in such ecstatic awe; the +miracle of her eyes, which, riveted on his, returned his glance with +one of mild surprise. A child she almost seemed, despite her height and +womanly proportions, so fresh and youthful was her countenance. + +Raised on his elbow, he lay there for a spell, and gazed and gazed, +his mind running on visions which godly men have had of saints from +Paradise. + +At last the spell was broken by Peppino's voice, addressing her, his +back servilely bent. Francesco bethought him of the deference due to one +so clearly noble, and leaping to his feet, his wound forgotten, he bowed +profoundly. A second later he gasped for breath, reeled, and swooning, +collapsed supine among the bracken. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. MONNA VALENTINA + + +In after years the Lord of Aquila was wont to aver in all solemnity that +it was the sight of her wondrous beauty set up such a disorder in his +soul that it overcame his senses, and laid him swooning at her feet. +That he, himself, believed it so, it is not ours to doubt, for all that +we may be more prone to agree with the opinion afterwards expressed +by Fanfulla and the friar--and deeply resented by the Count--that in +leaping to his feet in over-violent haste his wound re-opened, and the +pain of this, combining with the weak condition that resulted from his +loss of blood, had caused his sudden faintness. + +"Who is this, Peppe?" she asked the fool, and he, mindful of the oath +he had sworn, answered her brazenly that he did not know, adding that it +was--as she might see---some poor wounded fellow. + +"Wounded?" she echoed, and her glorious eyes grew very pitiful. "And +alone?" + +"There was a gentleman here, tending him, Madonna; but he is gone with +Fra Domenico to the Convent of Acquasparta to seek the necessaries to +mend his shoulder." + +"Poor gentleman," she murmured, approaching the fallen figure. "How came +he by his hurt?" + +"That, Madonna, is more than I can tell." + +"Can we do nothing for him until his friends return?" was her next +question, bending over the Count as she spoke. "Come, Peppino," she +cried, "lend me your aid. Get me water from the brook, yonder." + +The fool looked about him for a vessel, and his eye falling upon the +Count's capacious hat, he snatched it up, and went his errand. When he +returned, the lady was kneeling with the unconscious man's head in +her lap. Into the hatful of water that Peppe brought her she dipped a +kerchief, and with this she bathed the brow on which his long black hair +lay matted and disordered. + +"See how he has bled, Peppe," said she. "His doublet is drenched, and +he is bleeding still! Vergine Santa!" she cried, beholding now the +ugly wound that gaped in his shoulder, and turning pale at the sight. +"Assuredly he will die of it--and he so young, Peppino, and so comely to +behold!" + +Francesco stirred, and a sigh fluttered through his pallid lips. Then +he raised his heavy lids, and their glances met and held each other. And +so, eyes that were brown and tender looked down into feverish languid +eyes of black, what time her gentle hand held the moist cloth to his +aching brow. + +"Angel of beauty!" he murmured dreamily, being but half-awake as yet to +his position. Then, becoming conscious of her ministrations, "Angel of +goodness!" he added, with yet deeper fervour. + +She had no answer for him, saving such answer--and in itself it was +eloquent enough--as her blushes made, for she was fresh from a convent +and all innocent of worldly ways and tricks of gallant speech. + +"Do you suffer?" she asked at last. + +"Suffer?" quoth he, now waking more and more, and his voice sounding +a note of scorn. "Suffer? My head so pillowed and a saint from Heaven +ministering to my ills? Nay, I am in no pain, Madonna, but in a joy more +sweet than I have ever known." + +"Gesů! What a nimble tongue!" gibed the fool from the background. + +"Are you there, too, Master Buffoon?" quoth Francesco. "And Fanfulla? +Is he not here? Why, now I bethink me; he went to Acquasparta with the +friar." He thrust his elbow under him for more support. + +"You must not move," said she, thinking that he would essay to rise. + +"I would not, lady, if I must," he answered solemnly. And then, with his +eyes upon her face, he boldly asked her name. + +"My name," she answered readily, "is Valentina della Rovere, and I am +niece to Guidobaldo of Urbino." + +His brows shot up. + +"Do I indeed live," he questioned, "or do I but dream the memories of +some old romancer's tale, in which a wandering knight is tended thus by +a princess?" + +"Are you a knight?" she asked, a wonder coming now into her eyes, for +even into the seclusion of her convent-life had crept strange stories of +these mighty men-at-arms. + +"Your knight at least, sweet lady," answered he, "and ever your poor +champion if you will do me so much honour." + +A crimson flush stole now into her cheeks, summoned by his bold words +and bolder glances, and her eyes fell. Yet, resentment had no part in +her confusion. She found no presumption in his speech, nor aught that +a brave knight might not say to the lady who had succoured him in his +distress. Peppe, who stood listening and marking the Count's manner, +knowing the knight's station, was filled now with wonder, now with +mockery; yet never interfered. + +"What is your name, sir knight?" she asked, after a pause. + +His eyes looked troubled, and as they shot beyond her to the fool, they +caught on Peppe's face a grin of sly amusement. + +"My name," he said at last, "is Francesco." And then, to prevent that +she should further question him--"But tell me, Madonna," he inquired, +"how comes a lady of your station here, alone with that poor fraction of +a man?" And he indicated the grinning Peppe. + +"My people are yonder in the woods, where we have halted for a little +space. I am on my way to my uncle's court, from the Convent of Santa +Sofia, and for my escort I have Messer Romeo Gonzaga and twenty spears. +So that, you see, I am well protected, without counting Ser Peppe here +and the saintly Fra Domenico, my confessor." + +There was a pause, ended at length by Francesco. + +"You will be the younger niece of his Highness of Urbino?" said he. + +"Not so, Messer Francesco," she answered readily. "I am the elder." + +At that his brows grew of a sudden dark. + +"Can you be she whom they would wed to Gian Maria?" he exclaimed, at +which the fool pricked up his ears, whilst she looked at the Count with +a gaze that plainly showed how far she was from understanding him. + +"You said?" she asked. + +"Why, nothing," he answered, with a sigh, and in that moment a man's +voice came ringing through the wood. + +"Madonna! Madonna Valentina!" + +Francesco and the lady turned their eyes in the direction whence the +voice proceeded, and they beheld a superbly dazzling figure entering the +glade. In beauty of person and richness of apparel he was well worthy of +the company of Valentina. His doublet was of grey velvet, set off with +scales of beaten gold, and revealing a gold-embroidered vest beneath; +his bonnet matched his doublet, and was decked by a feather that +sparkled with costly gems; his gold-hilted sword was sheathed in a +scabbard also of grey velvet set with jewels. His face was comely as a +damsel's, his eyes blue and his hair golden. + +"Behold," announced Peppino gravely, "Italy's latest translation of the +Golden Ass of Apuleius." + +Upon seeing the noble niece of Guidobaldo kneeling there with +Francesco's head still pillowed in her lap, the new-comer cast up his +arms in a gesture of dismay. + +"Saints in Heaven!" he exclaimed, hurrying towards them. "What +occupation have you found? Who is this ugly fellow?" + +"Ugly?" was all she answered him, in accents of profound surprise. + +"Who is he?" the young man insisted, his tone growing heated. "And what +does he here and thus, with you? Gesů! What would his Highness say? +How would he deal with me were he to learn of this? Who is the man, +Madonna?" + +"Why, as you see, Messer Gonzaga," she answered, with some heat, "a +wounded knight." + +"A knight he?" gibed Gonzaga. "A thief more likely, a prowling +masnadiero. What is your name?" he roughly asked the Count. + +Drawing himself a little away from Valentina, and reclining entirely +upon his elbow, Francesco motioned him with a wave of the hand to come +no nearer. + +"I beg, lady, that you will bid your pretty page stand back a little. I +am still faint, and his perfumes overpower me." + +Under the mask of the polite request Gonzaga detected the mocking, +contemptuous note, and it gave fuel to his anger. + +"I am no page, fool," he answered, then clapping his hands together, he +raised his voice to shout--"Olá, Beltrame! To me!" + +"What would you do?" cried the lady, rising to confront him. + +"Carry this ruffian in bonds to Urbino, as is my duty." + +"Sir, you may wound your pretty hands in grasping me," replied the +Count, in chill indifference. + +"Ah! You would threaten me with violence, vassal?" cried the other, +retreating some paces farther as he spoke. "Beltrame!" he called again. +"Are you never coming?" A voice answered him from the thicket, and with +a clank of steel a half-dozen men flung themselves into the glade. + +"Your orders, sir?" craved he that led them, his eyes wandering to the +still prostrate Count. + +"Tie me up this dog," Gonzaga bade him. But before the fellow could move +a foot to carry out the order Valentina barred his way. + +"You shall not," she commanded, and so transformed was she from the +ingenuous child that lately had talked with him, that Francesco gaped in +pure astonishment. "In my uncle's name, I bid you leave this gentleman +where he lies. He is a wounded knight whom I have been pleased to +tend--a matter which seems to have aroused Messer Gonzaga's anger +against him." + +Beltrame paused, and looked from Valentina to Gonzaga, undecided. + +"Madonna," said Gonzaga, with assumed humility, "your word is law with +us. But I would have you consider that, what I bid Beltrame do is in +the interest of his Highness, whose territory is infested by these +vagabonding robbers. It is a fact that may not have reached you in +your convent retreat, no more than has sufficient knowledge reached you +yet--in your incomparable innocence--to distinguish between rogues and +honest men. Beltrame, do my bidding." + +Valentina's foot tapped the ground impatiently, and into her eyes there +came a look of anger that heightened her likeness to her martial uncle. +But Peppe it was who spoke. + +"For all that there seem to be fools enough, already, meddling in this +business," he said, in tones of mock lament, "permit that I join their +number, Ser Romeo, and listen to my counsel." + +"Out, fool," cried Gonzaga, cutting at him with his riding-switch, "we +need not your capers." + +"No, but you need my wisdom," retorted Ser Peppe, as he leapt beyond +Gonzaga's reach. "Hear me, Beltrame! For all that we do not doubt Messer +Gonzaga's keen discrimination in judging 'twixt a rogue and an honest +man, I do promise you, as surely as though I were Fate herself, that if +you obey him now and tie up that gentleman, you will yourself be tied up +for it, later on, in a yet uglier fashion." + +Beltrame looked alarmed, Gonzaga incredulous. Valentina thanked Peppe +with her eyes, thinking that he had but hit upon a subterfuge to serve +her wishes, whilst Francesco, who had now risen to his feet, looked +on with an amused smile as though the matter concerned him nowise +personally. And then, in the very crux of the situation, Fanfulla and +Fra Domenico appeared upon the scene. + +"You are, well-returned, Fanfulla!" the Count called to him, "This +pretty gentleman would have had me bound." + +"Have you bound?" echoed Fanfulla, in angry horror. "Upon what grounds, +pray?" he demanded, turning fiercely upon Gonzaga. + +Impressed by Fanfulla's lordly air, Romeo Gonzaga grew amazingly humble +for one that but a moment back had been so overbearing. + +"It would seem, sir, that my judgment was at fault in esteeming his +condition," he excused himself. + +"Your judgment?" returned the hot Fanfulla. "And who bade you judge? Go +cut your milk-teeth, boy, and meddle not with men if you would live to +be a man yourself some day." + +Valentina smiled, Peppe laughed outright, whilst even Beltrame and his +followers grinned, all of which added not a little to Gonzaga's choler. +But scant though his wisdom might be, it was yet enough to dictate +prudence. + +"The presence of Madonna here restrains me," he answered, with elaborate +dignity. "But should we meet again, I shall make bold to show you what +manhood means." + +"Perhaps--if by then you shall have come to it." And with a shrug +Fanfulla turned to give his attention to the Count, whom Fra Domenico +was already tending. + +Valentina, to relieve the awkwardness of the moment, proposed to +Gonzaga that he should get his escort to horse, and have her litter +in readiness, so that they might resume their journey as soon as Fra +Domenico should have concluded his ministrations. + +Gonzaga bowed, and with a vicious glance at the strangers and an +angry "Follow me!" to Beltrame and the others, he departed with the +men-at-arms at his heels. + +Valentina remained with Fanfulla and Peppe, whilst Fra Domenico dressed +Francesco's wound, and, presently, when the task was accomplished, they +departed, leaving Fanfulla amid the Count alone. But ere she went she +listened to Francesco's thanks, and suffered him to touch her ivory +fingers with his lips. + +There was much he might have said but that the presence of the other +three restrained him. Yet some little of that much she may have seen +reflected in his eyes, for all that day she rode pensive, a fond, +wistful smile at the corners of her lips. And although to Gonzaga she +manifested no resentment, yet did she twit him touching that mistake +of his. Sore in his dignity, he liked her playful mockery little yet he +liked the words in which she framed it less. + +"How came you into so grievous an error, Ser Romeo?" she asked him, more +than once. "How could you deem him a rogue--he with so noble a mien and +so beautiful a countenance?" And without heeding the sullenness of his +answers, she would lapse with a sigh once more into reflection--a thing +that galled Gonzaga more, perhaps, than did her gibes. + + + + +CHAPTER V. GIAN MARIA + + +It was a week after the meeting 'twixt the niece of Guidobaldo and the +Count of Aquila, when the latter--his wound being wellnigh healed--rode +one morning under the great archway that was the main entrance to the +city of Babbiano. The Captain of the Gate saluted him respectfully as +he rode by, and permitted himself to marvel at the pallor of his +Excellency's face. And yet, the cause was not very far to seek. It stood +upon four spears, among a noisy flock of circling crows, above that very +Gate---called of San Bacolo--and consisted of four detruncated human +heads. + +The sight of those dead faces grinning horribly, their long, matted +hair fluttering like rags in the April breeze, had arrested Francesco's +attention as he drew nigh. But when presently he came nearer and looked +with more intentness, a shudder of recognition ran through him, and a +great horror filled his soul and paled his cheek. The first of those +heads was that of the valiant and well-named Ferrabraccio; the next that +of Amerino Amerini; and the other two, those of his captured companions +on that night at Sant' Angelo. + +So it would seem that Gian Maria had been busy during the week that was +sped, and that there, on the walls of Babbiano, lay rotting the only +fruits which that ill-starred conspiracy was likely to bear. + +For a second it entered his mind to turn back. But his stout and +fearless nature drove him on, all unattended as he was, and in despite +of such vague forebodings as beset him. How much, he wondered, might +Gian Maria know of his own share in that mountain meeting, and how would +it fare with him if his cousin was aware that it had been proposed to +the Count of Aquila to supplant him? + +He was not long, however, in learning that grounds were wanting for such +fears as he had entertained. Gian Maria received him with even more than +wonted welcome, for he laid much store by Francesco's judgment and was +in sore need of it at present. + +Francesco found him at table, which had been laid for him amidst the +treasures of art and learning that enriched the splendid Palace library. +It was a place beloved by Gian Maria for the material comforts that it +offered him, and so he turned it to a score of vulgar purposes of +his own, yet never to that for which it was equipped, being an utter +stranger to letters and ignorant as a ploughboy. + +Ensconced in a great chair of crimson leather, at a board overladen with +choice viands and sparkling with crystal flagons and with vessels and +dishes of gold and enamel, Francesco found his cousin, and the air that +had been heavy once with the scholarly smell of parchments and musty +tomes was saturated now with pungent odours of the table. + +In stature Gian Maria was short and inclining, young though he was, to +corpulency. His face was round and pale and flabby; his eyes blue and +beady; his mouth sensual and cruel. He was dressed in a suit of lilac +velvet, trimmed with lynx fur, and slashed, Spanish fashion, in the +sleeves, to show the shirt of fine Rheims linen underneath. About his +neck hung a gold chain, bearing an Agnus Dei, which contained a relic of +the True Cross--for Gian Maria pushed his devoutness to great lengths. + +His welcome of Francesco was more effusive than its wont. He bade the +two servants who attended him to lay a plate for his illustrious cousin, +and when Aquila shortly yet courteously declined, with the assurance +that he had dined already, the Duke insisted that, at least, he should +drink a Cup of Malvasia. When out of a vessel of beaten gold they had +filled a goblet for the Count, his Highness bade the servants go, and +relaxed--if, indeed, so much may be said of one who never knew much +dignity--before his visitor. + +"I hear," said Aquila, when the first compliments were spent, "strange +stories of a conspiracy in your Duchy, and on the walls at the Gate of +San Bacolo I beheld four heads, of men whom I have known and honoured." + +"And who dishonoured themselves ere their heads were made a banquet for +the crows. There, Francesco!" He shuddered, and crossed himself. "It is +unlucky to speak of the dead at table." + +"Let us speak, then, of their offence alone," persisted Francesco +subtly. "In what did it lie? + +"In what?" returned the Duke amusedly. His voice was thin and inclining +to shrillness. "It is more than I can say. Masuccio knew. But the dog +would not disclose his secret nor the names of the conspirators until +his task should be accomplished and he had taken them at the treason +he knew they had gathered to ripen. But," he continued, an olive poised +'twixt thumb and forefinger, "it seems they were not to be captured as +easily as he thought. He told me the traitors numbered six, and that +they were to meet a seventh there. The men who returned from the venture +tell me too, and without shame, that there were but some six or seven +that beset them. Yet they gave the Swiss trouble enough, and killed some +nine of them besides a half-score of more or less grievously wounded, +whilst they but slew two of their assailants and captured another two. +Those were the four heads you saw at the Porta San Bacolo." + +"And Masuccio?" inquired Francesco. "Has he not told you since who were +those others that escaped?" + +His Highness paused to masticate the olive. + +"Why, there lies the difficulty," said he at length. "The dog is dead. +He was killed in the affray. May he rot in hell for his obstinate +reticence. No, no!" he checked himself hastily. "He's dead, and the +secret of this treason, as well as the names of the traitors, have +perished with him. Yet I am a clement man, Francesco, and sorely though +that dog has wronged me by his silence, I thank Heaven for the grace to +say--God rest his vile soul!" + +The Count flung himself into a chair, as much to dissemble such signs of +relief as might show upon his face, as because he wished to sit. + +"But surely Masuccio left you some information!" he exclaimed. + +"The very scantiest," returned Gian Maria, in chagrined accents. "It was +ever the way of that secretive vassal. Damn him! He frankly told me that +if I knew, I would talk. Heard you ever of such insufferable insolence +to a prince? All that he would let me learn was that there was a +conspiracy afoot to supplant me, and that he was going to capture the +conspirators, together with the man whom they were inviting to take +my place. Ponder it, Francesco! Such are the murderous plans my loving +subjects form for my undoing--I who rule them with a rod of gold, the +most clement, just and generous prince in Italy. Cristo buono! Do +you marvel that I lost patience and had their hideous heads set upon +spears?" + +"But did you not say that two of these conspirators were brought back +captive?" + +The Duke nodded, his mouth too full for words. + +"Then, at their trial, what transpired?" + +"Trial? There was no trial." Gian Maria chewed vigorously for a moment. +"I tell you I was so heated with anger at this base ingratitude, that I +had not even the wit to have the names of their associates tortured out +of them. Within a half-hour of their arrival in Babbiano, the heads of +these men whom it had pleased Heaven to deliver up to me were where you +saw them to-day." + +"You sent them thus to their death?" gasped Francesco, rising to his +feet and eyeing his cousin with mingled wonder and anger. "You sent men +of such families as these to the headsman, without a trial? I think, +Gian Maria, that you must be mad if so rashly you can shed such blood as +this." + +The Duke sank back in his chair to gape at his impetuous cousin. Then, +in sullen anger: "To whom do you speak?" he demanded. + +"To a tyrant who calls himself the most clement, just and generous +prince in Italy, and who lacks the wisdom to see that he is undermining +with his own hands, and by his own rash actions, a throne that is +already tottering. Can you not think that this might mean a revolution? +It amounts to murder, and though dukes resort to it freely enough in +Italy, it is not openly and defiantly wrought, as is this." + +Anger there was in the Duke's soul, but there was still more fear--so +much, that it shouldered the anger aside. + +"I have provided against rebellion," he announced, with an ease that he +vainly strove to feel. "I have given the command of my guards to Martino +Armstadt, and he has engaged for me a company of five hundred Swiss +lanzknechte that were lately in the pay of the Baglioni of Perugia." + +"And you deem this security?" rejoined Francesco, with a smile of scorn. +"To hedge your throne with foreign spears commanded by a foreigner?" + +"This and God's grace," was the pious answer. + +"Bah!" answered Francesco, impatient at the hypocrisy. "Win the hearts +of your people. Let that be your buckler." + +"Hush!" whispered Gian Maria. "You blaspheme. Does not every act of my +self-sacrificing life point to such an aim? I live for my people. But, +by my soul, they ask too much when they ask that I should die for them. +If I serve those who plot against my life, as I have served these men +you speak of, who shall blame me? I tell you, Francesco, I wish I might +have those others who escaped, that I might do as much by them. By the +living God, I do! And as for the man who was to have supplanted me----" +He paused, a deadly smile on his sensual mouth completing the sentence +more effectively than lay within the power of words. "Who could it +have been?" he mused. "I've vowed that if Heaven will grant me that I +discover him, I'll burn a candle to Santa Fosca every Saturday for a +twelvemonth and go fasting on the Vigil of the Dead. Who--who could it +have been, Franceschino?" + +"How should I know?" returned Francesco, evading the question. + +"You know so much, Checco mio. Your mind is so quick to fathom matters +of this kind. Think you, now, it might have been the Duca Valentino?" + +Francesco shook his head. + +"When Caesar Borgia comes he will know no need to resort to such poor +means. He will come in arms to reduce you by his might." + +"God and the saints protect me!" gasped the Duke. "You talk of it as if +he were already marching." + +"Then I talk of it advisedly. The event is none so remote as you would +make yourself believe. Listen, Gian Maria! I have not ridden from Aquila +for just the pleasure of passing the time of day with you. Fabrizio da +Lodi and Fanfulla degli Arcipreti have been with me of late." + +"With you?" cried the Duke, his little eyes narrowing themselves as they +glanced up at his cousin. "With you--eh?" He shrugged his shoulders and +spread his palms before him. "Pish! See into what errors even so clear +a mind as mine may fall. Do you know, Francesco, that marking their +absence since that conspiracy was laid, I had a half-suspicion they were +connected with it." And he devoted his attention to a honeycomb. + +"You have not in all your Duchy two hearts more faithful to Babbiano," +was the equivocal reply. "It was on the matter of this very peril that +threatens you that they came to me." + +"Ah!" Gian Maria's white face grew interested. + +And now the Count of Aquila talked to the Duke of Babbiano much as +Fabrizio da Lodi had talked to the Count that night at Sant' Angelo. He +spoke of the danger that threatened from the Borgia, of the utter lack +of preparation, and of Gian Maria's contempt of the counsels given him. +He alluded to the discontent rife among his subjects at this state of +things, and to the urgent need to set them right. When he had done, the +Duke sat silent a while, his eyes bent thoughtfully upon his platter, on +which the food lay now unheeded. + +"An easy thing, is it not, Francesco, to say to a man: this is wrong, +and that is wrong. But who is there, pray, to set it right for me?" + +"That, if you will say but the word, I will attempt to do." + +"You?" cried the Duke, and far from manifesting satisfaction at having +one offer himself to undertake to right this very crooked business, Gian +Maria's face reflected an incredulous anger and some little scorn. "And +how, my marvellous cousin, would you set about it?" he inquired, a sneer +lurking in his tone. + +"I would place such matters as the levying of money by taxation in +the hands of Messer Despuglio, and at whatever sacrifice to your own +extravagance, I would see that for months to come the bulk of these +moneys is applied to the levying and arming of suitable men. I have some +skill as a condottiero--leastways, so more than one foreign prince has +been forced to acknowledge. I will lead your army when I have raised it, +and I will enter into alliances for you with our neighbouring States, +who, seeing us armed, will deem us a power worthy of their alliance. And +so, what man can do to stem the impending flood of this invasion, that +will I do to defend your Duchy. Make me your gonfalonier, and in a month +I will tell you whether it lies in my power or not to save your State." + +The eyes of Gian Maria had narrowed more and more whilst Francesco +spoke, and into his shallow face had crept an evil, suspicious look. As +the Count ceased, he gave vent to a subdued laugh, bitter with mockery. + +"Make you my gonfalonier?" he muttered, in consummate amusement. "And +since when has Babbiano been a republic--or is it your aim to make it +one, and establish yourself as its chief magistrate?" + +"If you misapprehend me so----" began Francesco, but his cousin +interrupted him with heightening scorn. + +"Misapprehend you, Messer Franceschino? No, no. I understand you but +too well." He rose suddenly from his interrupted meal, and came a step +nearer his cousin. "I hear rumours of this growing love my people are +manifesting for the Count of Aquila, and I have let them go unheeded. +That rogue Masuccio warned me ere he died, and I answered him with +my whip across his face. But I am by no means sure that I have been +proceeding wisely. I had a dream two nights ago---- But let that be! +When it so happens that in any State there is a man whom the people +prefer to him who rules them, and when it so happens that this man is of +as good blood and high birth as are you, he becomes a danger to him +that sits the throne. I need scarce remind you," he added, with a horrid +grin, "of how the Borgias deal with such individuals, nor need I add +that a Sforza may see fit to emulate those very conclusive measures of +precaution. The family of Sforza has bred as yet no fools, nor shall I +prove myself the first by placing in another's hands the power to make +himself my master. You see, my gentle cousin, how transparent your +aims become under my eyes. I am keen of vision, Franceschino, keen of +vision!" He tapped his nose and chuckled a malicious appreciation of his +own acute perceptions. + +Francesco regarded him with an eye of stony scorn. He might have +answered, had he been so disposed, that the Duchy of Babbiano was his to +take whenever he pleased. He might have told him that, and defied him. +But he went more slowly than did this man of a family that bred no +fools. + +"Do you know me, then, so little, Gian Maria," said he, not without +bitterness, "that you think I hunger for so empty a thing as this ducal +pomp you clutch so fearfully? I tell you, man, that I prefer my liberty +to an imperial throne. But I waste breath with you. Yet, some day, when +your crown shall have passed from you and your power have been engulfed +in the Borgia's rapacious maw, remember my offer which might have saved +you and which with insults you disregarded, as you disregarded the +advice your older counsellors gave you." + +Gian Maria shrugged his fat shoulders. + +"If by that other advice you mean the counsel that I should take +Guidobaldo's niece to wife, you may give ease unto your patriotic soul. +I have consented to enter into this alliance. And now," he ended, with +another of his infernal chuckles, "you see how little I need dread this +terrible son of Pope Alexander. Allied with Urbino and the other States +that are its friends, I can defy the might of Caesar Borgia. I shall +sleep tranquil of nights beside my beauteous bride, secure in the +protection her uncle's armies will afford me, and never needing so much +as my valiant cousin's aid as my gonfalonier." + +The Count of Aquila changed colour despite himself, and the Duke's +suspicious eyes were as quick to observe it as was his mind to +misinterpret its meaning. He registered a vow to set a watch on this +solicitous cousin who offered so readily to bear his gonfalon. + +"I felicitate you, at least," said Francesco gravely, "upon the wisdom +of that step. Had I known of it I had not troubled you with other +proposals for the safety of your State. But, may I ask you, Gian +Maria, what influences led you to a course which, hitherto, you have so +obstinately refused to follow?" + +The Duke shrugged his shoulders. + +"They plagued me so," he lamented, with a grimace, "that in the end I +consented. I could withstand Lodi and the others, but when my mother +joined them with her prayers--I should say, her commands--and pointed +out again my peril to me, I gave way. After all a man must wed. And +since in my station he need not let his marriage weigh too much upon +him, I resolved on it for the sake of security and peace." + +Since it was the salvation of Babbiano that he aimed at, the Count of +Aquila should have rejoiced at Gian Maria's wise resolve, and no other +consideration should have tempered so encompassing a thing as that joy +of his should have been. Yet, when later he left his cousin's presence, +the only feeling that he carried with him was a deep and bitter +resentment against the Fate that willed such things, blent with a +sorrowing pity for the girl that was to wed his cousin and a growing +hatred for the cousin who made him pity her. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. THE AMOROUS DUKE + + +From a window of the Palace of Babbiano the Lord of Aquila watched the +amazing bustle in the courtyard below, and at his side stood Fanfulla +degli Arcipreti, whom he had summoned from Perugia with assurances that, +Masuccio being dead, no peril now menaced him. + +It was a week after that interview at which Gian Maria had made known +his intentions to his cousin, and his Highness was now upon the point +of setting out for Urbino, to perform the comedy of wooing the Lady +Valentina. This was the explanation of that scurrying of servitors and +pages, that parading of men-at-arms, and that stamping of horses and +mules in the quadrangle below. Francesco watched the scene with a smile +of some bitterness, his companion with one of supreme satisfaction. + +"Praised be Heaven for having brought his Highness at last to a sense of +his duty," remarked the courtier. + +"It has often happened to me," said Francesco, disregarding his +companion's words, "to malign the Fates for having brought me into the +world a count. But in the future I shall give them thanks, for I see how +much worse it might have been--I might have been born a prince, with +a duchy to rule over. I might have been as that poor man, my cousin, a +creature whose life is all pomp and no real dignity, all merrymaking +and no real mirth--loveless, isolated and vain." + +"But," cried the amazed Fanfulla, "assuredly there are compensations?" + +"You see that bustle. You know what it portends. What compensation can +there be for that?" + +"It is a question you should be the last to ask, my lord. You have seen +the niece of Guidobaldo, and having seen her, can you still ask what +compensation does this marriage offer Gian Maria?" + +"Do you, then, not understand?" returned Aquila, with a wan smile. "Do +you not see the tragedy of it? Is it nothing that two States, having +found that this marriage would be mutually advantageous, have determined +that it shall take place? That meanwhile the chief actors--the +victims, I might almost call them--have no opportunity of selecting for +themselves. Gian Maria goes about it resignedly. He will tell you that +he has always known that some day he must wed and do his best to beget +a son. He held out long enough against this alliance, but now that +necessity is driving him at last, he goes about it much as he would go +about any other State affair--a coronation, a banquet, or a ball. Can +you wonder now that I would not accept the throne of Babbiano when +it was offered me? I tell you, Fanfulla, that were I at present in my +cousin's shoes, I would cast crown and purple at whomsoever had a fancy +for them ere they crushed the life out of me and left me a poor puppet. +Sooner than endure that hollow mockery of a life I would become a +peasant or a vassal; I would delve the earth and lead a humble life, but +lead it in my own way, and thank God for the freedom of it; choose my +own comrades; live as I list, where I list; love as I list, where I +list, and die when God pleases with the knowledge that my life had not +been altogether barren. And that poor girl, Fanfulla! Think of her. She +is to be joined in loveless union to such a gross, unfeeling clod as +Gian Maria. Have you no pity for her?" + +Fanfulla sighed, his brow clouded. + +"I am not so dull but that I can see why you should reason thus to-day," +said he. "These thoughts have come to you since you have seen her." + +Franceseo sighed deeply. + +"Who knows?" he made answer wistfully. "In the few moments that we +talked together, in the little time that I beheld her, it may be that +she dealt me a wound far deeper than the one to which she so mercifully +sought to minister." + +Now for all that in what the Lord of Aquila said touching the projected +union there was a deal of justice, yet when he asserted that the chief +actors were to have no opportunity of selecting for themselves, he said +too much. That opportunity they were to have. It occurred three days +later at Urbino, when the Duke and Valentina were brought together +at the banquet of welcome given by Guidobaldo to his intended +nephew-in-law. The sight of her resplendent beauty came as a joyful +shock to Gian Maria, and filled him with as much impatience to possess +her as did his own gross ugliness render him offensive in her eyes. +Averse had she been to this wedding from the moment that it had been +broached to her. The sight of Gian Maria completed her loathing of the +part assigned her, and in her heart she registered a vow that sooner +than become the Duchess of Babbiano, she would return to her Convent of +Santa Sofia and take the veil. + +Gian Maria sat beside her at the banquet, and in the intervals of +eating--which absorbed him mightily--he whispered compliments at which +she shuddered and turned pale. The more strenuously did he strive to +please, in his gross and clumsy fashion, the more did he succeed +in repelling and disgusting her, until, in the end, with all his +fatuousness, he came to deem her oddly cold. Of this, anon, he made +complaint to that magnificent prince, her uncle. But Guidobaldo scoffed +at his qualms. + +"Do you account my niece a peasant girl?" he asked. "Would you have her +smirk and squirm at every piece of flattery you utter? So that she weds +your Highness what shall the rest signify?" + +"I would she loved me a little," complained Gian Maria foolishly. + +Guidobaldo looked him over with an eye that smiled inscrutably, and it +may have crossed his mind that this coarse, white-faced Duke was too +ambitious. + +"I doubt not that she will," he answered, in tones as inscrutable as +his glance. "So that you woo with grace and ardour, what woman could +withstand your Highness? Be not put off by such modesty as becomes a +maid." + +Those words of Guidobaldo's breathed new courage into him. Nor ever +after could he think that her coldness was other than a cloak, a sort of +maidenly garment behind which modesty bade her conceal the inclinations +of her heart. Reasoning thus, and having in support of it his wondrous +fatuity, it so befell that the more she shunned and avoided him, the +more did he gather conviction of the intensity of her affection; the +more loathing she betrayed, the more proof did it afford him of the +consuming quality of her passion. In the end, he went even so far as to +applaud and esteem in her this very maidenly conduct. + +There were hunting-parties, hawking-parties, water-parties, banquets, +comedies, balls, and revels of every description, and for a week all +went well at Urbino. Then, as suddenly as if a cannon had been fired +upon the Palace, the festivities were interrupted. The news that an +envoy of Caesar Borgia's was at Babbiano with a message from his master +came like a cold douche upon Gian Maria. It was borne to him in a letter +from Fabrizio da Lodi, imploring his immediate return to treat with this +plenipotentiary of Valentino's. + +No longer did he disregard the peril that threatened him from the +all-conquering Borgia, no longer deem exaggerated by his advisers the +cause for fear. This sudden presence of Valentino's messenger, coming, +too, at a time when it would almost seem as if the impending union +with Urbino had spurred the Borgia to act before the alliance was +established, filled him with apprehension. + +In one of the princely chambers that had been set aside for his use +during his visit to Urbino he discussed the tragic news with the two +nobles who had accompanied him--Alvaro de Alvari and Gismondo Santi--and +both of them, whilst urging him to take the advice of Lodi and return at +once, urged him, too, to establish his betrothal ere he left. + +"Bring the matter to an issue at once, your Highness," said Santi, +"and thus you will go back to Babbiano well-armed to meet the Duca +Valentino's messenger." + +Readily accepting this advice, Gian Maria went in quest of Guidobaldo, +and laid before him his proposals, together with the news which +had arrived and which was the cause of the haste he now manifested. +Guidobaldo listened gravely. In its way the news affected him as well, +for he feared the might of Caesar Borgia as much as any man in Italy, +and he was, by virtue of it, the readier to hasten forward an alliance +which should bring another of the neighbouring states into the powerful +coalition he was forming. + +"It shall be as you wish," answered him the gracious Lord of Urbino, +"and the betrothal shall be proclaimed to-day, so that you can bear news +of it to Valentino's messenger. When you have heard this envoy, deliver +him an answer of such defiance or such caution as you please. Then +return in ten days' time to Urbino, and all shall be ready for the +nuptials. But, first of all, go you and tell Monna Valentina." + +Confident of success, Gian Maria obeyed his host, and went in quest of +the lady. He gained her ante-chamber, and thence he despatched an idling +page to request of her the honour of an audience. + +As the youth passed through the door that led to the room beyond, Gian +Maria caught for a moment the accents of an exquisite male voice singing +a love-song to the accompaniment of a lute. + + "Una donna piů bella assai che 'l sole..." + +came the words of Petrarch, and he heard them still, though muffled, for +a moment or two after the boy had gone. Then it ceased abruptly, and +a pause followed, at the end of which the page returned. Raising the +portičre of blue and gold, he invited Gian Maria to enter. + +It was a room that spoke with eloquence of the wealth and refinement +of Montefeltro, from the gilding and ultramarine of the vaulted ceiling +with its carved frieze of delicately inlaid woodwork, to the priceless +tapestries beneath it. Above a crimson prie-dieu hung a silver crucifix, +the exquisite workmanship of the famous Anichino of Ferrara. Yonder +stood an inlaid cabinet, surmounted by a crystal mirror and some wonders +of Murano glass. There was a picture by Mantegna, some costly cameos and +delicate enamels, an abundance of books, a dulcimer which a fair-haired +page was examining with inquisitive eyes, and by a window on the right +stood a very handsome harp that Guidobaldo had bought his niece in +Venice. + +In that choice apartment of hers the Duke found Valentina surrounded +by her ladies, Peppe the fool, a couple of pages, and a half-dozen +gentlemen of her uncle's court. One of these--that same Gonzaga who had +escorted her from the Convent of Santa Sofia--most splendidly arrayed in +white taby, his vest and doublet rich with gold, sat upon a low stool, +idly fingering the lute in his lap, from which Gian Maria inferred that +his had been the voice that had reached him in the ante-chamber. + +At the Duke's advent they all rose saving Valentina and received him +with a ceremony that somewhat chilled his ardour. He advanced; then +halted clumsily, and in a clumsy manner framed a request that he might +speak with her alone. In a tired, long-suffering way she dismissed that +court of hers, and Gian Maria stood waiting until the last of them had +passed out through the tall windows that abutted on to a delightful +terrace, where, in the midst of a green square, a marble fountain +flashed and glimmered in the sunlight. + +"Lady," he said, when they were at last alone, "I have news from +Babbiano that demands my instant return." And he approached her by +another step. + +In truth he was a dull-witted fellow or else too blinded by fatuity +to see and interpret aright the sudden sparkle in her eye, the sudden, +unmistakable expression of relief that spread itself upon her face. + +"My lord," she answered, in a low, collected voice, "we shall grieve at +your departure." + +Fool of a Duke that he was! Blind, crass and most fatuous of wooers! Had +he been bred in courts and his ears attuned to words that meant nothing, +that were but the empty echoes of what should have been meant; was he so +new to courtesies in which the heart had no share, that those words of +Valentina's must bring him down upon his knees beside her, to take +her dainty fingers in his fat hands, and to become transformed into a +boorish lover of the most outrageous type? + +"Shall you so?" he lisped, his glance growing mighty amorous. "Shall you +indeed grieve?" + +She rose abruptly to her feet. + +"I beg that your Highness will rise," she enjoined him coldly, a +coldness which changed swiftly to alarm as her endeavours to release her +hand proved vain. For despite her struggles he held on stoutly. This was +mere coyness, he assured himself, mere maidenly artifice which he must +bear with until he had overcome it for all time. + +"My lord, I implore you!" she continued. "Bethink you of where you +are--of who you are." + +"Here will I stay until the crack of doom," he answered, with an odd +mixture of humour, ardour and ferocity, "unless you consent to listen to +me." + +"I am ready to listen, my lord," she answered, without veiling a +repugnance that he lacked the wit to see. "But it is not necessary that +you should hold my hand, nor fitting that you should kneel." + +"Not fitting?" he exclaimed. "Lady, you do not apprehend me rightly. +Is it not fitting that all of us--be we princes or vassals--shall kneel +sometimes?" + +"At your prayers, my lord, yes, most fitting." + +"And is not a man at his prayers when he woos? What fitter shrine in all +the world than his mistress's feet?" + +"Release me," she commanded, still struggling. "Your Highness grows +tiresome and ridiculous." + +"Ridiculous?" + +His great, sensual mouth fell open. His white cheeks grew mottled, and +his little eyes looked up with a mighty evil gleam in their cruel blue. +A moment he stayed so, then he rose up. He released her hands as she had +bidden him, but he clutched her arms instead, which was yet worse. + +"Valentina," he said, in a voice that was far from steady, "why do you +use me thus unkindly?" + +"But I do not," she protested wearily, drawing back with a shudder from +the white face that was so near her own, inspiring her with a loathing +she could not repress. "I would not have your Highness look foolish, and +you cannot conceive how----" + +"Can you conceive how deeply, how passionately I love you?" he broke in, +his grasp tightening. + +"My lord, you are hurting me!" + +"And are you not hurting me?" he snarled. "What is a pinched arm when +compared with such wounds as your eyes are dealing me? Are you not----" + +She had twisted from his grasp, and in a bound she had reached the +window-door through which her attendants had passed. + +"Valentina!" he cried, as he sprang after her, and it was more like the +growl of a beast than the cry of a lover. He caught her, and with scant +ceremony he dragged her back into the room. + +At this, her latent loathing, contempt and indignation rose up in arms. +Never had she heard tell of a woman of her rank being used in this +fashion. She abhorred him, yet she had spared him the humiliation of +hearing it from her lips, intending to fight for her liberty with +her uncle. But now, since he handled her as though she had been a +serving-wench; since he appeared to know nothing of the deference due +to her, nothing of the delicacies of people well-born and well-bred, +she would endure his odious love-making no further. Since he elected +to pursue his wooing like a clown, the high-spirited daughter of Urbino +promised herself that in like fashion would she deal with him. + +Swinging herself free from his grasp a second time, she caught him a +stinging buffet on the ducal cheek which--so greatly did it take him by +surprise--all but sent him sprawling. + +"Madonna!" he panted. "This indignity to me!" + +"And what indignities have not I suffered at your hands?" she retorted, +with a fierceness of glance before which he recoiled. And as she now +towered before him, a beautiful embodiment of wrath, he knew not whether +he loved her more than he feared her, yet the desire to possess her and +to tame her was strong within him. + +"Am I a baggage of your camps," she questioned furiously, "to be so +handled by you? Do you forget that I am the niece of Guidobaldo, a lady +of the house of Rovere, and that from my cradle I have known naught but +the respect of all men, be they born never so high? That to such by my +birth I have the right? Must I tell you in plain words, sir, that though +born to a throne, your manners are those of a groom? And must I tell +you, ere you will realise it, that no man to whom with my own lips I +have not given the right, shall set hands upon me as you have done?" + +Her eyes flashed, her voice rose, and higher raged the storm; and Gian +Maria was so tossed and shattered by it that he could but humbly sue for +pardon. + +"What shall it signify that I am a Duke," he pleaded timidly, "since +I am become a lover? What is a Duke then? He is but a man, and as the +meanest of his subjects his love must take expression. For what does +love know of rank?" + +She was moving towards the window again, and for all that he dared not a +second time arrest her by force, he sought by words to do so. + +"Madonna," he exclaimed, "I implore you to hear me. In another hour I +shall be in the saddle, on my way to Babbiano." + +"That, sir," she answered him, "is the best news I have heard since your +coming." And without waiting for his reply, she stepped through the open +window on to the terrace. + +For a second he hesitated, a sense of angry humiliation oppressing his +wits. Then he started to follow her; but as he reached the window the +little crook-backed figure of Ser Peppe stood suddenly before him with a +tinkle of bells, and a mocking grin illumining his face. + +"Out of the way, fool," growled the angry Duke. But the odd figure in +its motley of red and black continued where it stood. + +"If it is Madonna Valentina you seek," said he, "behold her yonder." + +And Gian Maria, following the indication of Peppe's lean finger, saw +that she had rejoined her ladies and that thus his opportunity of +speaking with her was at an end. He turned his shoulder upon the jester, +and moved ponderously towards the door by which he had originally +entered the room. It had been well for Ser Peppe had he let him go. But +the fool, who loved his mistress dearly, and had many of the instincts +of the faithful dog, loving where she loved and hating where she hated, +could not repress the desire to send a gibe after the retreating figure, +and inflict another wound in that much wounded spirit. + +"You find it a hard road to Madonna's heart, Magnificent," he called +after him. "Where your wisdom is blind be aided by the keen eyes of +folly." + +The Duke stood still. A man more dignified would have left that +treacherous tongue unheeded. But Dignity and Gian Maria were strangers. +He turned, and eyed the figure that now followed him into the room. + +"You have knowledge to sell," he guessed contemptuously. + +"Knowledge I have--a vast store--but none for sale, Lord Duke. Such as +imports you I will bestow if you ask me, for no more than the joy of +beholding you smile." + +"Say on," the Duke bade him, without relaxing the grimness that +tightened his flabby face. + +Peppe bowed. + +"It were an easy thing, most High and Mighty, to win the love of Madonna +if----" He paused dramatically. + +"Yes, yes. E dunque! If----?" + +"If you had the noble countenance, the splendid height, the shapely +limbs, the courtly speech and princely manner of one I wot of." + +"Are you deriding me?" the Duke questioned, unbelieving. + +"Ah, no, Highness! I do but tell you how it were possible that my lady +might come to love you. Had you those glorious attributes of him I speak +of, and of whom she dreams, it might be easy. But since God fashioned +you such as you are--gross of countenance, fat and stunted of shape, +boorish of----" + +With a roar the infuriated Duke was upon him. But the fool, as nimble of +legs as he was of tongue, eluded the vicious grasp of those fat hands, +and leaping through the window, ran to the shelter of his mistress's +petticoats. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. GONZAGA THE INSIDIOUS + + +Well indeed had it been for Ser Peppe had he restrained his malicious +mood and curbed the mocking speech that had been as vinegar to +Gian Maria's wounds. For when Gian Maria was sore he was wont to be +vindictive, and on the present occasion he was something even more. + +There abode with him the memory of the fool's words, and the suggestion +that in the heart of Valentina was framed the image of some other man. +Now, loving her, in his own coarse way, and as he understood love, the +rejected Duke waxed furiously jealous of this other at whose existence +Peppe had hinted. This unknown stood in his path to Valentina, and to +clear that path it suggested itself to Gian Maria that the simplest +method was to remove the obstacle. But first he must discover it, and +to this he thought, with a grim smile, the fool might--willy-nilly--help +him. + +He returned to his own apartments, and whilst the preparations for +his departure were toward, he bade Alvaro summon Martin Armstadt--the +captain of his guard. To the latter his orders were short and secret. + +"Take four men," he bade him, "and remain in Urbino after I am gone. +Discover the haunts of Peppe the fool. Seize him, and bring him after +me. See that you do it diligently, and let no suspicion of your task +arise." + +The bravo--he was little better, for all that he commanded the guards of +the Duke of Babbiano--bowed, and answered in his foreign, guttural voice +that his Highness should be obeyed. + +Thereafter Gian Maria made shift to depart. He took his leave of +Guidobaldo, promising to return within a few days for the nuptials, and +leaving an impression upon the mind of his host that his interview with +Valentina had been very different from the actual. + +It was from Valentina herself that Guidobaldo was to learn, after Gian +Maria's departure, the true nature of that interview, and what had +passed between his niece and his guest. She sought him out in his +closet, whither he had repaired, driven thither by the demon of gout +that already inhabited his body, and was wont to urge him at times to +isolate himself from his court. She found him reclining upon a couch, +seeking distraction in a volume of the prose works of Piccinino. He was +a handsome man, of excellent shape, scarce thirty years of age. His face +was pale, and there were dark circles round his eyes, and lines of pain +about his strong mouth. + +He sat up at her advent, and setting his book upon the table beside him, +he listened to her angry complaints. + +At first, the courtly Montefeltro inclined to anger upon learning of +the roughness with which Gian Maria had borne himself. But presently he +smiled. + +"When all is said, I see in this no great cause for indignation," he +assured her. "I acknowledge that it may lack the formality that should +attend the addresses of a man in the Duke's position to a lady in yours. +But since he is to wed you, and that soon, why be angered at that he +seeks to pay his court like any other man?" + +"I have talked in vain, then," she answered petulantly, "and I am +misunderstood. I do not intend to wed this ducal clod you have chosen to +be my husband." + +Guidobaldo stared at her with brows raised, and wonder in his fine +eyes. Then he shrugged his shoulders a trifle wearily. This handsome and +well-beloved Guidobaldo was very much a prince, so schooled to princely +ways as to sometimes forget that he was a man. + +"We forgive much to the impetuousness of youth," said he, very coldly. +"But there are bounds to the endurance of every one of us. As your uncle +and your prince, I claim a double duty from you, and you owe a double +allegiance to my wishes. By my twofold authority I have commanded you to +wed with Gian Maria." + +The princess in her was all forgotten, and it was just the woman who +answered him, in a voice of protest: + +"But, Highness, I do not love him." + +A shade of impatience crossed his lofty face. + +"I do not remember," he made answer wearily, "that I loved your aunt. +Yet we were wed, and through habit came to love each other and to be +happy together." + +"I can understand that Monna Elizabetta should have come to love you," +she returned. "You are not as Gian Maria. You were not fat and ugly, +stupid and cruel, as is he." + +It was an appeal that might have won its way to a man's heart through +the ever-ready channel of his vanity. But it did not so with Guidobaldo. +He only shook his head. + +"The matter is not one that I will argue. It were unworthy in us both. +Princes, my child, are not as ordinary folk." + +"In what are they different?" she flashed back at him. "Do they not +hunger and thirst as ordinary folk? Are they not subject to the same +ills; do they not experience the same joys? Are they not born, and do +they not die, just as ordinary folk? In what, then, lies this difference +that forbids them to mate as ordinary folk?" + +Guidobaldo tossed his arms to Heaven, his eyes full of a consternation +that clearly defied utterance. The violence of his gesture drew a gasp +of pain from him. At last, when he had mastered it: + +"They are different," said he, "in that their lives are not their own to +dispose of as they will. They belong to the State which they were born +to govern, and in nothing else does this become of so much importance +as in their mating. It behoves them to contract such alliances as shall +redound to the advantage of their people." A toss of her auburn head was +Valentina's interpolation, but her uncle continued relentlessly in his +cold, formal tones--such tones as those in which he might have addressed +an assembly of his captains: + +"In the present instance we are threatened--Babbiano and Urbino--by +a common foe. And whilst divided, neither of us could withstand him, +united, we shall combine to his overthrow. Therefore does this alliance +become necessary--imperative." + +"I do not apprehend the necessity," she answered, in a voice that +breathed defiance. "If such an alliance as you speak of is desirable, +why may it not be made a purely political one--such a one, for instance, +as now binds Perugia and Camerino to you? What need to bring me into +question?" + +"A little knowledge of history would afford you an answer. Such +political alliances are daily made, and daily broken when more profit +offers in another quarter. But cemented by marriage, the tie, whilst +continuing political, becomes also one of blood. In the case of Urbino +and Babbiano it enters also into consideration that I have no son. It +might well be, Valentina," he pursued, with a calculating coldness that +revolted her, "that a son of yours would yet more strongly link the two +duchies. In time both might become united under him into one great power +that might vie successfully with any in Italy. Now leave me, child. +As you see, I am suffering, and when it is thus with me, and this evil +tyrant has me in its clutches, I prefer to be alone." + +There was a pause, and whilst his eyes were upon hers, hers were upon +the ground in avoidance of his glance. A frown marred her white brow, +her lips were set and her hands clenched. Pity for his physical ills +fought a while with pity for her own mental torment. At last she threw +back her beautiful head, and the manner of that action was instinct with +insubordination. + +"It grieves me to harass your Highness in such a season," she assured +him, "but I must beg your indulgence. These things may be as you say. +Your plans may be the noblest that were ever conceived, since to their +consummation would be entailed the sacrifice of your own flesh and +blood--in the person of your niece. But I will have no part in them. +It may be that I lack a like nobility of soul; it may be that I am all +unworthy of the high station to which I was born, through no fault of my +own. And so, my lord," she ended, her voice, her face, her gesture, all +imparting an irrevocable finality to her words, "I will not wed this +Duke of Babbiano--no, not to cement alliances with a hundred duchies." + +"Valentina!" he exclaimed, roused out of his wonted calm. "Do you forget +that you are my niece?" + +"Since you appear to have forgotten it." + +"These woman's whims----" he began, when she interrupted him. + +"Perhaps they will serve to remind you that I am a woman, and perhaps if +you remember that, you may consider how very natural it is that, being a +woman, I should refuse to wed for--for political ends." + +"To your chamber," he commanded, now thoroughly aroused. "And on your +knees beg Heaven's grace to help you to see your duty, since no words of +mine prevail." + +"Oh, that the Duchess were returned from Mantua," she sighed. "The good +Monna Elizabetta might melt you to some pity." + +"Monna Elizabetta is too dutiful herself to do aught but urge you to +dutifulness. There, child," he added, in a more wheedling tone, "set +aside this disobedient mood, which is unlike you and becomes you ill. +You shall be wed with a splendour and magnificence that will set every +princess in Italy green with envy. Your dowry is set at fifty thousand +ducats, and Giuliano della Rovere shall pronounce the benediction. +Already I have sent orders to Ferrara, to the incomparable Anichino, for +the majestate girdle; I will send to Venice for gold leaf and----" + +"But do you not heed me that I will not wed?" she broke in with +passionate calm, her face white, her bosom heaving. + +He rose, leaning heavily upon a gold-headed cane, and looked at her a +moment without speaking, his brows contracted. Then: + +"Your betrothal to Gian Maria is proclaimed," he announced in a voice +cold with finality. "I have passed my word to the Duke, and your +marriage shall take place so soon as he returns. Now go. Such scenes as +these are wearisome to a sick man, and they are undignified." + +"But, your Highness," she began, an imploring note now taking the place +that lately had been held by defiance. + +"Go!" he blazed, stamping his foot, and then to save his dignity--for +he feared that she might still remain--he himself turned on his heel and +passed from the apartment. + +Left to herself, she stood there a moment, allowed a sigh to escape +her, and brushed an angry tear from her brown eyes. Then, with a sudden +movement that seemed to imply suppression of her mood, she walked to the +door by which she entered, and left the chamber. + +She went down the long gallery, whose walls glowed with the new frescoes +from the wonder-working brush of Andrea Mantegna; she crossed her +ante-chamber and gained the very room where some hours ago she had +received the insult of Gian Maria's odious advances. She passed through +the now empty room, and stepped out on to the terrace that overlooked +the paradise-like gardens of the Palace. + +Close by the fountain stood a white marble seat, over which, earlier +that day, one of her women had thrown a cloak of crimson velvet. There +she now sat herself to think out the monstrous situation that beset her. +The air was warm and balmy and heavy with the scent of flowers from the +garden below. The splashing of the fountain seemed to soothe her, and +for a little while her eyes were upon that gleaming water, which rose +high in a crystal column, then broke and fell, a shower of glittering +jewels, into the broad marble basin. Then, her eyes growing tired, +they strayed to the marble balustrade, where a peacock strode with +overweening dignity; they passed on to the gardens below, gay with early +blossoms, in their stately frames of tall, boxwood hedges, and flanked +by myrtles and tall cypresses standing gaunt and black against the deep +saffron of the vesper sky. + +Saving the splashing of the fountain, and the occasional harsh scream +of the peacock, all was at peace, as if by contrast with the tumult that +raged in Valentina's soul. Then another sound broke the stillness--a +soft step, crunching the gravel of the walk. She turned, and behind her +stood the magnificent Gonzaga, a smile that at once reflected pleasure +and surprise upon his handsome face. + +"Alone, Madonna?" he said, in accents of mild wonder, his fingers softly +stirring the strings of the lute he carried, and without which he seldom +appeared about the Court. + +"As you see," she answered, and her tone was the tone of one whose +thoughts are taken up with other things. + +Her glance moved away from him again, and in a moment it seemed as if +she had forgotten his presence, so absorbed grew the expression of her +face. + +But Gonzaga was not easily discouraged. Patience was the one virtue +that Valentina more than any woman--and there had been many in his +young life--had inculcated into a soul that in the main was anything but +virtuous. He came a step nearer, and leant lightly against the edge of +her seat, his shapely legs crossed, his graceful body inclining ever so +slightly towards her. + +"You are pensive, Madonna," he murmured, in his rich, caressing voice. + +"Why then," she reproved him, but in a mild tone, "do you intrude upon +my thoughts?" + +"Because they seem sad thoughts, Madonna." he answered, glibly, "and I +were a poor friend did I not seek to rouse you out of them." + +"You are that, Gonzaga?" she questioned, without looking at him. "You +are my friend?" + +He seemed to quiver and then draw himself upright, whilst across his +face there swept a shade of something that may have been good or bad or +partly both. Then he leant down until his head came very near her own. + +"Your friend?" quoth he. "Ah, more than your friend. Count me your very +slave, Madonna." + +She looked at him now, and in his countenance she saw a reflection of +the ardour that had spoken in his voice. In his eyes there was a glance +of burning intensity. She drew away from him, and at first he accounted +himself repulsed, but pointing to the space she had left: + +"Sit here beside me, Gonzaga," she said quietly, and he, scarce +crediting his own good fortune that so much favour should be showered +upon him, obeyed her in a half-timid fashion that was at odd variance +with his late bold words. + +He laughed lightly, perhaps to cover the embarrassment that beset him, +and dropping his jewelled cap, he flung one white-cased leg over the +other and took his lute in his lap, his fingers again wandering to the +strings. + +"I have a new song, Madonna," he announced, with a gaiety that was +obviously forced. "It is in ottava rima, a faint echo of the immortal +Niccolo Correggio, composed in honour of one whose description is beyond +the flight of human song." + +"Yet you sing of her?" + +"It is no better than an acknowledgment of the impossibility to sing of +her. Thus----" And striking a chord or two, he began, a mezza voce: + + "Quando sorriderán' in ciel + Gli occhi tuoi ai santi--" + +She laid a hand upon his arm to stay him. + +"Not now, Gonzaga," she begged, "I am in no humour for your song, sweet +though I doubt not that it be." + +A shade of disappointment and ruffled vanity crossed his face. Women +had been wont to listen greedily to his strambotti, enthralled by the +cunning of the words and the seductive sweetness of his voice. + +"Ah, never look so glum," she cried, smiling now at his crestfallen air. +"If I have not hearkened now, I will again. Forgive me, good Gonzaga," +she begged him, with a sweetness no man could have resisted. And then a +sigh fluttered from her lips; a sound that was like a sob came after it, +and her hand closed upon his arm. + +"They are breaking my heart, my friend. Oh, that you had left me at +peace in the Convent of Santa Sofia!" + +He turned to her, all solicitude and gentleness, to inquire the reason +of her outburst. + +"It is this odious alliance into which they seek to force me with that +man from Babbiano. I have told Guidobaldo that I will not wed this Duke. +But as profitably might I tell Fate that I will not die. The one is as +unheeding as the other." + +Gonzaga sighed profoundly, in sympathy, but said nothing. + +Here was a grief to which he could not minister, a grievance that +he could do nothing to remove. She turned from him with a gesture of +impatience. + +"You sigh," she exclaimed, "and you bewail the cruelty of the fate in +store for me. But you can do nothing for me. You are all words, Gonzaga. +You can call yourself more than my friend--my very slave. Yet, when I +need your help, what do you offer me? A sigh!" + +"Madonna, you are unjust," he was quick to answer, with some heat. "I +did not dream--I did not dare to dream--that it was my help you sought. +My sympathy, I believed, was all that you invited, and so, lest I should +seem presumptuous, it was all I offered. But if my help you need; if you +seek a means to evade this alliance that you rightly describe as odious, +such help as it lies in a man's power to render shall you have from me." + +He spoke almost fiercely and with a certain grim confidence, for all +that as yet no plan had formed itself in his mind. + +Indeed, had a course been clear to him, there had been perhaps less +confidence in his tone, for, after all, he was not by nature a man +of action, and his character was the very reverse of valiant. Yet so +excellent an actor was he as to deceive even himself by his acting, and +in this suggestion of some vague fine deeds that he would do, he felt +himself stirred by a sudden martial ardour, and capable of all. He was +stirred, too, by the passion with which Valentina's beauty filled +him--a passion that went nearer to making a man of him than Nature had +succeeded in doing. + +That now, in the hour of her need, she should turn so readily to him for +assistance, he accepted as proof that she was not deaf to the voice of +this great love he bore her, but of which he never yet had dared to show +a sign. The passing jelousy that he had entertained for that wounded +knight they had met at Acquasparta was laid to rest by her present +attitude towards him, the knight, himself forgotten. + +As for Valentina, she listened to his ready speech and earnest tone with +growing wonder both at him and at herself. Her own words had been little +more than a petulant outburst. Of actually finding a way to elude her +uncle's wishes she had no thought--unless it lay in carrying out that +threat of hers to take the veil. Now, however, that Gonzaga spoke so +bravely of doing what man could do to help her to evade that marriage, +the thought of active resistance took an inviting shape. + +A timid hope--a hope that was afraid of being shattered before it grew +to any strength--peeped now from the wondering eyes she turned on her +companion. + +"Is there a way, Gonzaga?" she asked, after a pause. + +Now during that pause his mind had been very busy. Something of a poet, +he was blessed with wits of a certain quickness, and was a man of very +ready fancy. Like an inspiration an idea had come to him; out of this +had sprung another, and yet another, until a chain of events by +which the frustration of the schemes of Babbiano and Urbino might be +accomplished, was complete. + +"I think," he said slowly, his eyes upon the ground, "that I know a +way." + +Her glance was now eager, her lip tremulous, and her face a little pale. +She leant towards him. + +"Tell me," she besought him feverishly. + +He set his lute on the seat beside him, and his eyes looked round in +apprehensive survey. + +"Not here," he muttered. "There are too many ears in the Palace of +Urbino. Will it please you to walk in the gardens? I will tell you +there." + +They rose together, so ready was her assent. They looked at each other +for a second. Then, side by side, they passed down the wide marble steps +that led from the terrace to the box-flanked walks of the gardens. Here, +among the lengthening shadows, they paced in silence for a while, what +time Gonzaga sought for words in which to propound his plan. At length, +grown impatient, Valentina urged him with a question. + +"What I counsel, Madonna," he answered her, "is open defiance." + +"Such a course I am already pursuing. But whither will it lead me?" + +"I do not mean the mere defiance of words--mere protestations that you +will not wed Gian Maria. Listen, Madonna! The Castle of Roccaleone is +your property. It is perhaps the stoutest fortress in all Italy, to-day. +Lightly garrisoned and well-provisioned it might withstand a year's +siege." + +She turned to him, having guessed already the proposal in his mind, +and for all that at first her eyes looked startled, yet presently +they kindled to a light of daring that augured well for a very stout +adventure. It was a wildly romantic notion, this of Gonzaga's, worthy of +a poet's perfervid brain, and yet it attracted her by its unprecedented +flavour. + +"Could it be done?" she wondered, her eyes sparkling at the anticipation +of such a deed. + +"It could, indeed it could," he answered, with an eagerness no whit less +than her own. "Immure yourself in Roccaleone, and thence hurl defiance +at Urbino and Babbiano, refusing to surrender until they grant your +terms--that you are to marry as you list." + +"And you will help me in this?" she questioned, her mind--in its +innocence--inclining more and more to the mad project. + +"With all my strength and wit," he answered, readily and gallantly. "I +will so victual the place that it shall be able to stand siege for a +whole year, should the need arise, and I will find you the men to arm +it--a score will, I should think, be ample for our needs, since it is +mainly upon the natural strength of the place that we rely." + +"And then," said she, "I shall need a captain." + +Gonzaga made her a low bow. + +"If you will honour me with the office, Madonna, I shall serve you +loyally whilst I have life." + +A smile quivered for a second on her lips, but was gone ere the courtier +had straightened himself from his bow, for far was it from her wishes +to wound his spirit. But the notion of this scented fop in the role +of captain, ruling a handful of rough mercenaries, and directing the +operations for the resistance of an assiduous siege, touched her with +its ludicrous note. Yet, if she refused him this, it was more than +likely he would deem himself offended, and refuse to advance their +plans. It crossed her mind--in the full confidence of youth--that if he +should fail her when the hour of action came, she was of stout enough +heart to aid herself. And so she consented, whereat again he bowed, this +time in gratitude. And then a sudden thought occurred to her, and with +it came dismay. + +"But for all this, Gonzaga--for the men and the victualling--money will +be needed." + +"If you will let my friendship be proven also in that----" he began. + +But she interrupted him, struck suddenly with a solution to the riddle. + +"No, no!" she exclaimed. His face fell a little. He had hoped to place +her in his debt in every possible way, yet here was one in which she +raised a barrier. Upon her head she wore a fret of gold, so richly laced +with pearls as to be worth a prince's ransom. This she now made haste to +unfasten with fingers that excitement set a-tremble. "There!" she cried, +holding it out to him. "Turn that to money, my friend. It should yield +you ducats enough for this enterprise." + +It next occurred to her that she could not go alone into that castle +with just Gonzaga and the men he was about to enrol. His answer came +with a promptness that showed he had considered, also, that. + +"By no means," he answered her. "When the time comes you must select +such of your ladies--say three or four--as appear suitable and have +your trust. You may take a priest as well, a page or two, and a few +servants." + +Thus, in the gloaming, amid the shadows of that old Italian garden, +was the plot laid by which Valentina was to escape alliance with his +Highness of Babbiano. But there was more than that in it, although +that was all that Valentina saw. It was, too, a plot by which she might +become the wife of Messer Romeo Gonzaga. + +He was an exiled member of that famous Mantua family, which has bred +some scoundrels and one saint. With the money which, at parting, a +doting mother had bestowed upon him, he was cutting a brave figure at +the Urbino court, where he was tolerated by virtue of his kinship with +Guidobaldo's Duchess, Monna Elizabetta. But his means were running low, +and it behoved him to turn his attention to such quarters as might yield +him profit. Being poor-spirited, and--since his tastes had not inclined +that way--untrained in arms, it would have been futile for him to have +sought the career common to adventurers of his age. Yet an adventurer +at heart he was, and since the fields of Mars were little suited to his +nature, he had long pondered upon the possibilities afforded him by +the lists of Cupid. Guidobaldo--purely out of consideration for Monna +Elizabetta--had shown him a high degree of favour, and upon this he had +been vain enough to found great hopes--for Guidobaldo had two nieces. +High had these hopes run when he was chosen to escort the lovely +Valentina della Rovere from the Convent of Santa Sofia to her uncle's +court. But of late they had withered, since he had learnt what were her +uncle's plans for this lady's future. And now, by her own action, and by +the plot into which she had entered with him, they rose once more. + +To thwart Guidobaldo might prove a dangerous thing, and his life might +pay the forfeit if his schemes miscarried--clement and merciful though +Guidobaldo was. But if they succeeded, and if by love or by force +he could bring Valentina to wed him, he was tolerably confident that +Guidobaldo, seeing matters had gone too far--since Gian Maria would +certainly refuse to wed Gonzaga's widow--would let them be. To this end +no plan could be more propitious than that into which he had lured her. +Guidobaldo might besiege them in Roccaleone and might eventually reduce +them by force of arms--a circumstance, however, which, despite his +words, he deemed extremely remote. But if only he could wed Valentina +before they capitulated, he thought that he would have little cause to +fear any consequences of Guidobaldo's wrath. After all, in so far as +birth and family were concerned, Romeo Gonzaga was nowise the inferior +of his Highness of Urbino. Guidobaldo had yet another niece, and he +might cement with her the desired alliance with Babbiano. + +Alone in the gardens of the Palace, Gonzaga paced after night had +fallen, and with his eyes to the stars that began to fleck the violet +sky, he smiled a smile of cunning gratification. He bethought him how +well advised had been his suggestion that they should take a priest to +Roccaleone. Unless his prophetic sense led him deeply into error, they +would find work for that priest before the castle was surrendered. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. AMONG THE DREGS OF WINE + + +And so it befell that whilst by Guidobaldo's orders the preparations for +Valentina's nuptials went forward with feverish haste--whilst painters, +carvers, and artificers in gold and silver applied themselves to their +hurried tasks; whilst messengers raced to Venice for gold leaf and +ultramarine for the wedding-chests whilst the nuptial bed was being +brought from Rome and the chariot from Ferrara; whilst costly +stuffs were being collected, and the wedding-garments fashioned--the +magnificent Romeo Gonzaga was, on his side, as diligently contriving to +render vain all that toil of preparation. + +On the evening of the third day of his conspiring he sat in the room +allotted to him in the Palace of Urbino, and matured his plans. And +so well pleased was he with his self-communion that, as he sat at his +window, there was a contented smile upon his lips. + +He allowed his glance to stray adown the slopes of that arid waste of +rocks, to the River Metauro, winding its way to the sea, through fertile +plains, and gleaming here silver and yonder gold in the evening light. +Not quite so complacently would he have smiled had he deemed the +enterprise upon which he was engaging to be of that warlike character +which he had represented to Valentina. He did not want for cunning, +nor for judgment of the working of human minds, and he very reasonably +opined that once the Lady Valentina immured herself in Roccaleone and +sent word to her uncle that she would not wed Gian Maria, nor return to +the Court of Urbino until he passed her his ducal word that she should +hear no more of the union, the Duke would be the first to capitulate. + +He contended that this might not happen at once--nor did he wish it to; +messages would pass, and Guidobaldo would seek by cajolery to win back +his niece. This she would resist, and, in the end her uncle would see +the impassable nature of the situation, and agree to her terms that it +might be ended. That it should come to arms, and that Guidobaldo should +move to besiege Roccaleone, he did not for a moment believe--for what +manner of ridicule would he not draw upon himself from the neighbouring +States? At the worst, even if a siege there was, it would never be +carried out with the rigour of ordinary warfare; there would be no +assaults, no bombarding; it would be a simple investment, with the +object of intercepting resources, so as to starve the garrison into +submission--for they would never dream of such victualling as Gonzaga +was preparing. + +Thus communed Gonzaga with himself, and the smile enlivening the corners +of his weak mouth grew more thoughtful. He dreamed great dreams that +evening; he had wondrous visions of a future princely power that should +come to be his own by virtue of this alliance that he was so skilfully +encompassing--a fool in a fool's paradise, with his folly for only +company. + +But for all that, his dreams were wondrous sweet to indulge and his +visions truly alluring to contemplate. There were plans to be formed +and means to be devised for the flight to Roccaleone. There were +calculations to be made; the estimating of victuals, arms, and men; and +once these calculations were complete, there were all these things to +be obtained. The victuals he had already provided for, whilst of arms he +had no need to think; Roccaleone should be well stocked with them. But +the finding of the men gave him some concern. He had decided to enrol a +score, which was surely the smallest number with which he could make a +fair show of being martially in earnest. But even though the number +was modest, where was he to find twenty fellows who reeked so little +of their lives as to embark upon such an enterprise--even if lured by +generous pay--and thereby incur the ducal displeasure of Guidobaido? + +He dressed himself with sober rigour for once in his foppish life, and +descended, after night had fallen, to a tavern in a poor street behind +the Duomo, hoping that there, among the dregs of wine, he might find +what he required. + +By great good fortune he chanced upon an old freebooting captain, who +once had been a meaner sort of condottiero, but who was sorely reduced +by bad fortune and bad wine. + +The tavern was a dingy, cut-throat place, which the delicate Gonzaga +had not entered without a tremor, invoking the saints' protection, and +crossing himself ere he set foot across the threshold. Some pieces of +goat were being cooked on the embers, in a great fireplace at the end +of the room farthest from the door. Before this, Ser Luciano--the +taverner--squatted on his heels and fanned so diligently that a cloud +of ashes rose ceiling high and spread itself, together with the noisome +smoke, throughout the squalid chamber. A brass lamp swung from the +ceiling, and shone freely through that smoke, as shines the moon through +an evening mist. So foully stank the place that at first Gonzaga was +moved to get him thence. Only the reflection that nowhere in Urbino was +he as likely as here to find the thing he sought, impelled him to stifle +his natural squeamishness and remain. He slipped upon some grease, and +barely saved himself from measuring his length upon that filthy floor, +a matter which provoked a malicious guffaw from a tattered giant who +watched with interest his mincing advent. + +Perspiring, and with nerves unstrung, the courtier picked his way to a +table by the wall, and seated himself upon the coarse deal bench before +it, praying that he might be left its sole occupant. + +On the opposite wall hung a blackened crucifix and a small holy-water +stoup that had been dry for a generation, and was now a receptacle for +dust and a withered sprig of rosemary. Immediately beneath this--in the +company of a couple of tatterdemalions worthy of him--sat the giant +who had mocked his escape from falling, and as Gonzaga took his seat he +heard the fellow's voice, guttural, bottle-thickened and contentious. + +"And this wine, Luciano? Sangue della Madonna! Will you bring it before +dropping dead, pig?" + +Gonzaga shuddered and would have crossed himself again for protection +against what seemed a very devil incarnate, but that the ruffian's +blood-shot eye was set upon him in a stony stare. + +"I come, cavaliere, I come," cried the timid host, leaping to his +feet, and leaving the goat to burn while he ministered to the giant's +unquenchable thirst. + +The title caused Gonzaga to start, and he bent his eyes again on the +man's face. He found it villainous of expression, inflamed and blotched; +the hair hung matted about a bullet head, and the eyes glared fiercely +from either side of a pendulous nose. Of the knightly rank by which +the taverner addressed him the fellow bore no outward signs. Arms he +carried, it is true; a sword and dagger at his belt, whilst beside him +on the table stood a rusty steel-cap. But these warlike tools served +only to give him the appearance of a roving masnadiero or a cut-throat +for hire. Presently abandoning the comtemplation of Gonzaga he turned to +his companions, and across to the listener floated a coarse and boasting +tale of a plunderous warfare in Sicily ten years agone. Gonzaga became +excited. It seemed indeed as if this were man who might be useful to +him. He made pretence to sip the wine Luciano had brought him, and +listened avidly to that swashbuckling story, from which it appeared that +this knave had once been better circumstanced and something of a leader. +Intently he listened, and wondered whether such men as he boasted he +had led in that campaign were still to be found and could be brought +together. + +At the end of perhaps a half-hour the two companions of that thirsty +giant rose and took their leave of him. They cast a passing glance upon +Gonzaga, and were gone. + +A little while he hesitated. The ruffian seemed to have lapsed into a +reverie, or else he slept with open eyes. Calling up his courage the +gallant rose at last and moved across the room. All unversed in tavern +ways was the magnificent Gonzaga, and he who at court, in ballroom or +in antechamber, was a very mirror of all the graces of a courtier, felt +awkward here and ill at ease. + +At length, summoning his wits to his aid: + +"Good sir," said he, with some timidity, "will you do me the honour to +share a flagon with me?" + +The ruffian's eye, which but a moment back had looked vacuous and +melancholy, now quickened until it seemed ablaze. He raised his +bloodshot orbs and boldly encountered Gonzaga's uneasy glance. His lips +fell apart with an anticipatory smack, his back stiffened, and his head +was raised until his chin took on so haughty a tilt that Gonzaga feared +his proffered hospitality was on the point of suffering a scornful +rejection. + +"Will I share a flagon?" gasped the fellow, as, being the sinner that he +was and knew himself to be, he might have gasped: "Will I go to Heaven?" +"Will I--will I----?" He paused, and pursed his lips. His eyebrows were +puckered and his expression grew mighty cunning as again he took stock +of this pretty fellow who offered flagons of wine to down-at-heel +adventurers like himself. He had all but asked what was to be required +of him in exchange for this, when suddenly he bethought him--with the +knavish philosophy adversity had taught him--that were he told for what +it was intended that the wine should bribe him, and did the business +suit him not, he should, in the confession of it, lose the wine; whilst +did he but hold his peace until he had drunk, it would be his thereafter +to please himself about the business when it came to be proposed. + +He composed his rugged features into the rude semblance of a smile. + +"Sweet young sir," he murmured, "sweet, gentle and most illustrious +lord, I would share a hogshead with such a nobleman as you." + +"I am to take it that you will drink?" quoth Gonzaga, who had scarce +known what to make of the man's last words. + +"Body of Bacchus! Yes. I'll drink with you gentile signorino, until your +purse be empty or the world run dry." And he leered a mixture of mockery +and satisfaction. + +Gonzaga, still half uncertain of his ground, called the taverner +and bade him bring a flagon of his best. While Luciano was about the +fetching of the wine, constraint sat upon that oddly discordant pair. + +"It is a chill night," commented Gonzaga presently, seating himself +opposite his swashbuckler. + +"Young sir, your wits have lost their edge. The night is warm. + +"I said," spluttered Gonzaga, who was unused to contradiction from his +inferiors, and wished now to assert himself, "that the night is chill." + +"You lied, then," returned the other, with a fresh leer, "for, as I +answered you, the night is warm. Piaghe di Cristo! I am an ill man to +contradict, my pretty gallant, and if I say the night is warm, warm it +shall be though there be snow on Mount Vesuvius." + +The courtier turned pink at that, and but for the arrival of +the taverner with the wine, it is possible he might have done an +unconscionable rashness. At sight of the red liquor the fury died out of +the ruffler's face. + +"A long life, a long thirst, a long purse, and a short memory!" was his +toast, into whose cryptic meaning Gonzaga made no attempt to pry. As the +fellow set down his cup, and with his sleeve removed the moisture from +his unshorn mouth, "May I not learn," he inquired, "whose hospitality I +have the honour of enjoying?" + +"Heard you ever of Romeo Gonzaga?" + +"Of Gonzaga, yes; though of Romeo Gonzaga never. Are you he?" + +Gonzaga bowed his head. + +"A noble family yours," returned the swashbuckler, in a tone that +implied his own to be as good. "Let me name myself to you. I am Ercole +Fortemani," he said, with the proud air of one who announced himself an +emperor. + +"A formidable name," said Gonzaga, in accents of surprise, "and it bears +a noble sound." + +The great fellow turned on him in a sudden anger. + +"Why that astonishment?" he blazed. "I tell you my name is both noble +and formidable, and you shall find me as formidable as I am noble. +Diavolo! Seems it incredible?" + +"Said I so?" protested Gonzaga. + +"You had been dead by now if you had, Messer Gonzaga. But you thought +so, and I may take leave to show you how bold a man it needs to think so +without suffering." + +Ruffled as a turkey-cock, wounded in his pride and in his vanity, Ercole +hastened to enlighten Gonzaga on his personality. + +"Learn, sir," he announced, "that I am Captain Ercole Fortemani. I held +that rank in the army of the Pope. I have served the Pisans and the +noble Baglioni of Perugia with honour and distinction. I have commanded +a hundred lances of Gianinoni's famous free-company. I have fought with +the French against the Spaniards, and with the Spaniards against the +French, and I have served the Borgia, who is plotting against both. I +have trailed a pike in the emperor's following, and I have held the rank +of captain, too, in the army of the King of Naples. Now, young sir, you +have learned something of me, and if my name is not written in letters +of fire from one end of Italy to the other, it is--Body of God!--because +the hands that hired me to the work garnered the glory of my deeds." + +"A noble record," said Gonzaga, who had credulously absorbed that +catalogue of lies, "a very noble record." + +"Not so," the other contradicted, for the lust of contradiction that was +a part of him. "A great record, if you will, to commend me to hireling +service. But you may not call the service of a hireling noble." + +"It is a matter we will not quarrel over," said Gonzaga soothingly. The +man's ferocity was terrific. + +"Who says that we shall not?" he demanded. "Who will baulk me if I have +a mind to quarrel over it? Answer me!" and he half rose from his seat, +moved by the anger into which he was lashing himself. "But patience!" he +broke off, subsiding on a sudden. "I take it, it was not out of regard +for my fine eyes, nor drawn by the elegance of my apparel"--and he +raised a corner of his tattered cloak--"nor yet because you wish to +throw a main with me, that you have sought my acquaintance, and called +for this wine. You require service of me?" + +"You have guessed it." + +"A prodigious discernment, by the Host!" He seemed to incline rather +tediously to irony. Then his face grew stern, and he lowered his voice +until it was no more than a growling whisper. "Heed me, Messer Gonzaga. +If the service you require be the slitting of a gullet or some kindred +foul business, which my seeming neediness leads you to suppose me +ripe for, let me counsel you, as you value your own skin, to leave the +service unmentioned, and get you gone." + +In hasty, frantic, fearful protest were Gonzaga's hands outspread. + +"Sir, sir--I--I could not have thought it of you," he spluttered, with +warmth, much of which was genuine, for it rejoiced him to see some +scruples still shining in the foul heap of this man's rascally +existence. A knave whose knavery knew no limits would hardly have suited +his ends. "I do need a service, but it is no dark-corner work. It is a +considerable enterprise, and one in which, I think, you should prove the +very man I need." + +"Let me know more," quoth Ercole grandiloquently. + +"I need first your word that should the undertaking prove unsuited to +you, or beyond you, you will respect the matter, and keep it secret." + +"Body of Satan! No corpse was ever half so dumb as I shall be." + +"Excellent! Can you find me a score of stout fellows to form a bodyguard +and a garrison, who, in return for good quarters--perchance for some +weeks--and payment at four times the ordinary mercenaries' rate, will +be willing to take some risk, and chance even a brush with the Duke's +forces?" + +Ercole blew out his mottled cheeks until Gonzaga feared that he would +burst them. + +"It's outlawry!" he roared, when he had found his voice. "Outlawry, or +I'm a fool." + +"Why, yes," confessed Gonzaga. "It is outlaw matter of a kind. But the +risk is slender." + +"Can you tell me no more?" + +"I dare not." + +Ercole emptied his wine-cup at a draught and splashed the dregs on +to the floor. Then, setting down the empty vessel, he sat steeped in +thought awhile. Growing impatient: + +"Well," cried Gonzaga at last, "can you help me? Can you find the men?" + +"If you were to tell me more of the nature of this service you require, +I might find a hundred with ease." + +"As I have said--I need but a score." + +Ercole looked mighty grave, and thoughtfully rubbed his long nose. + +"It might be done," said he, after a pause. "But we shall have to look +for desperate knaves; men who are already under a ban, and to whom it +will matter little to have another item added to their indebtedness to +the law should they fall into its talons. How soon shall you require +this forlorn company?" + +"By to-morrow night." + +"I wonder----" mused Ercole. He was counting on his fingers, and +appeared to have lapsed into mental calculations. "I could get +half-a-score or a dozen within a couple of hours. But a score----" Again +he paused, and again he fell to thinking. At last, more briskly: "Let us +hear what pay you offer me, to thrust myself thus blindfolded into +this business of yours as leader of the company you require?" he asked +suddenly. + +Gonzaga's face fell at that. Then he suddenly stiffened, and put on an +expression of haughtiness. + +"It is my intent to lead this company myself," he loftily informed the +ruffler. + +"Body of God!" gasped Ercole, upon whose mind intruded a grotesque +picture of such a company as he would assemble, being led by this +mincing carpet-knight. Then recollecting himself: "If that be so," said +he, "you had best, yourself, enrol it. Felicissima notte!" And he waved +him a farewell across the table. + +Here was a poser for Gonzaga. How was he to go about such a business as +that? It was beyond his powers. Thus much he protested frankly. + +"Now attend to me, young sir," was the other's answer. "The matter +stands thus: If I can repair to certain friends of mine with the +information that an affair is afoot, the particulars of which I may not +give them, but in which I am to lead them myself, sharing such risk as +there may be, I do not doubt but that by this time to-morrow I can have +a score of them enrolled--such is their confidence in Ercole Fortemani. +But if I take them to enter a service unknown, under a leader equally +unknown, the forming of such a company would be a mighty tedious +matter." + +This was an argument to the force of which Gonzaga could not remain +insensible. After a moment's consideration, he offered Ercole fifty gold +florins in earnest of good faith and the promise of pay, thereafter, at +the rate of twenty gold florins a month for as long as he should need +his services and Ercole, who in all his free-lancing days had never +earned the tenth of such a sum, was ready to fall upon this most noble +gentleman's neck, and weep for very joy and brotherly affection. + +The matter being settled, Gonzaga produced a heavy bag which gave forth +a jangle mighty pleasant to the ears of Fortemani, and let it drop with +a chink upon the table. + +"There are a hundred florins for the equipment of this company. I do not +wish to have a regiment of out-at-elbow tatterdemalions at my heels." +And his eye swept in an uncomplimentary manner over Ercole's apparel. +"See that you dress them fittingly." + +"It shall be done, Magnificent," answered Ercole, with a show of such +respect as he had not hitherto manifested. "And arms?" + +"Give them pikes and arquebuses, if you will; but nothing more. The +place we are bound for is well stocked with armour--but even that may +not be required." + +"May not be required?" echoed the more and more astonished swashbuckler. +Were they to be paid on so lordly a scale, clothed and fed, to induce +them upon a business that might carry no fighting with it? Surely he +had never sold himself into a more likely or promising service, and that +night he dreamt in his sleep that he was become a gentleman's steward, +and that at his heels marched an endless company of lacqueys in +flamboyant liveries. On the morrow he awoke to the persuasion that at +last, of a truth, was his fortune made, and that hereafter there would +be no more pike-trailing for his war-worn old arms. + +Conscientiously he set about enrolling the company, for, in his way, +this Ercole Fortemani was a conscientious man--boisterous and unruly +if you will; a rogue, in his way, with scant respect for property; not +above cogging dice or even filching a purse upon occasion when hard +driven by necessity--for all that he was gently born and had held +honourable employment; a drunkard by long habit, and a swaggering +brawler upon the merest provocation. But for all that, riotous and +dishonest though he might be in the general commerce of life, yet to the +hand that hired him he strove--not always successfully, perhaps, but, at +least, always earnestly--to be loyal. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. THE "TRATTA DI CORDE" + + +Whilst the bustle of preparation went on briskly in Urbino, Gian Maria, +on his side, was rapidly disposing of affairs in Babbiano, that he might +return to the nuptials for which he was impatient. But he had chanced +upon a deeper tangle than he had reckoned with, and more to do than he +had looked for. + +On the day of his departure from Urbino, he had ridden as far as Cagli, +and halted at the house of the noble Messer Valdicampo. This had been +placed at his disposal, and there he proposed to lie the night. They +had supped--the Duke, de' Alvari, Gismondo Santi, Messér Valdicampo, his +wife and two daughters, and a couple of friends, potential citizens of +Cagli, whom he had invited, that they might witness the honour that was +being done his house. It waxed late, and the torpor that ensues upon the +generous gratification of appetite was settling upon the company when +Armstadt--Gian Maria's Swiss captain--entered and approached his master +with the air of a man who is the bearer of news. He halted a pace or two +from the Duke's high-backed chair, and stood eyeing Gian Maria in stupid +patience. + +"Well, fool?" growled the Duke, turning his head. + +The Swiss approached another step. "They have brought him, Highness," he +said in a confidential whisper. + +"Am I a wizard that I must read your thoughts?" hectored Gian Maria. +"Who has brought whom?" + +Armstadt eyed the company in hesitation. Then, stepping close to the +Duke, he murmured in his ear: + +"The men I left behind have brought the fool--Ser Peppe." + +A sudden brightening of the eye showed that Gian Maria understood. +Without apology to the board, he turned and whispered back to his +captain to have the fellow taken to his chamber, there to await him. +"Let a couple of your knaves be in attendance, and do you come too, +Martino." + +Martin bowed, and withdrew, whereupon Gian Maria found grace to crave +his host's pardon, with the explanation that the man had brought him +news he had been expecting. Valdicampo, who for the honour of having a +Duke sleep beneath his roof would have stomached improprieties far more +flagrant, belittled the matter and dismissed it. And presently Gian +Maria rose with the announcement that he had far to journey on the +morrow, and so, with his host's good leave, would be abed. + +Valdicampo, himself, then played the part of chamberlain, and taking up +one of the large candle branches, he lighted the Duke to his apartments. +He would have carried his good offices, and his candles, as far as Gian +Maria's very bed-chamber, but that in the ante-room his Highness, as +politely as might be, bade him set down the lights and leave him. + +The Duke remained standing for a moment, deliberating whether to afford +knowledge to Alvari and Santi--who had followed him and stood awaiting +his commands--of what he was about to do. In the end he decided that he +would act alone and upon his sole discretion. So he dismissed them. + +When they had gone and he was quite alone, he clapped his hands +together, and in answer to that summons the door of his bedroom opened, +revealing Martin Armstadt on the threshold. + +"He is there?" inquired the Duke. + +"Awaiting your Highness," answered the Swiss, and he held the door for +Gian Maria to enter. + +The bedchamber apportioned the Duke in the Palazzo Valdicampo was a +noble and lofty room, in the midst of which loomed the great carved bed +of honour, with its upright pillars and funereal canopy. + +On the overmantel stood two five-armed sconces with lighted tapers. Yet +Gian Maria did not seem to deem that there was light enough for such +purpose as he entertained, for he bade Martin fetch him the candelabra +that had been left behind. Then he turned his attention to the group +standing by the window, where the light from the overmantel fell full +upon it. + +This consisted of three men, two being mercenaries of Armstadt's guard, +in corselet and morion, and the third, who stood captive between, the +unfortunate Ser Peppe. The fool's face was paler than its wont, whilst +the usual roguery had passed from his eyes and his mouth, fear having +taken possession of its room. He met the Duke's cruel glance with one of +alarm and piteous entreaty. + +Having assured himself that Peppe had no weapons, and that his arms were +pinioned behind him, Gian Maria bade the two guards withdraw, but hold +themselves in readiness in the ante-chamber with Armstadt. Then he +turned to Peppe with a scowl on his low brow. + +"You are not so merry as you were this morning, fool," he scoffed. + +Peppino squirmed a little, but his nature, schooled by the long habit of +jest, prompted a bold whimsicality in his reply. + +"The circumstances are scarcely as propitious--to me. Your Highness, +though, seems in excellent goodhumour." + +Gian Maria looked at him angrily a moment. He was a slow-witted man, and +he could devise no ready answer, no such cutting gibe as it would have +pleasured him to administer. He walked leisurely to the fire-place, and +leant his elbow on the overmantel. + +"Your humour led you into saying some things for which I should be +merciful if I had you whipped." + +"And, by the same reasoning, charitable if you had me hanged," returned +the fool dryly, a pale smile on his lips. + +"Ah! You acknowledge it?" cried Gian Maria, never seeing the irony +intended. "But I am a very clement prince, fool." + +"Proverbially clement," the jester protested, but he did not succeed +this time in excluding the sarcasm from his voice. + +Gian Maria shot him a furious glance. + +"Are you mocking me, animal? Keep your venomous tongue in bounds, or +I'll have you deprived of it." + +Peppe's face turned grey at the threat, as well it might--for what +should such a one as he do in the world without a tongue? + +Seeing him dumb and stricken, the Duke continued: + +"Now, for all that you deserve a hanging for your insolence, I am +willing that you should come by no hurt so that you answer truthfully +such questions as I have for you." + +Peppino's grotesque figure was doubled in a bow. + +"I await your questions, glorious lord," he answered. + +"You spoke----" the Duke hesitated a moment, writhing inwardly at the +memory of the exact words in which the fool had spoken. "You spoke this +morning of one whom the Lady Valentina had met." + +The fear seemed to increase on the jester's face. "Yes," he answered, in +a choking voice. + +"Where did she meet this knight you spoke of, and in such wondrous words +of praise described to me?" + +"In the woods at Acquasparta, where the river Metauro is no better than +a brook. Some two leagues this side of Sant' Angelo." + +"Sant' Angelo!" echoed Gian Maria, starting at the very mention of the +place where the late conspiracy against him had been hatched. "And when +was this?" + +"On the Wednesday before Easter, as Monna Valentina was journeying from +Santa Sofia to Urbino." + +No word spake the Duke in answer. He stood still, his head bowed, and +his thoughts running again on that conspiracy. The mountain fight in +which Masuccio had been killed had taken place on the Tuesday night, and +the conviction--scant though the evidence might be--grew upon him that +this man was one of the conspirators who had escaped. + +"How came your lady to speak with this man--was he known to her?" he +inquired at last. + +"No, Highness; but he was wounded, and so aroused her compassion. She +sought to minister to his hurt." + +"Wounded?" cried Gian Maria, in a shout. "Now, by God, it is as I +suspected. I'll swear he got that wound the night before at Sant' +Angelo. What was his name, fool? Tell me that, and you shall go free." + +For just a second the hunchback seemed to hesitate. He stood in awesome +fear of Gian Maria, of whose cruelties some ghastly tales were told. But +in greater fear he stood of the eternal damnation he might earn did he +break the oath he had plighted not to divulge that knight's identity. + +"Alas!" he sighed, "I would it might be mine to earn my freedom at so +light a price; yet it is one that ignorance will not let me pay. I do +not know his name." + +The Duke looked at him searchingly and suspiciously. + +Dull though he was by nature, eagerness seemed now to have set a cunning +edge upon his wits, and suspicion had led him to observe the fool's +momentary hesitation. + +"Of what appearance was he? Describe him to me. How was he dressed? What +was the manner of his face?" + +"Again, Lord Duke, I cannot answer you. I had but the most fleeting +glimpse of him." + +The Duke's sallow countenance grew very evil-looking, and an ugly smile +twisted his lip and laid bare his strong white teeth. + +"So fleeting that no memory of him is left you?" quoth he. + +"Precisely, Highness." + +"You lie, you filth," Gian Maria thundered in a towering rage. "It was +but this morning that you said his height was splendid, his countenance +noble, his manner princely, his speech courtly, and--I know not what +besides. Yet now you tell me--you tell me--that your glimpse of him was +so fleeting that you cannot describe him. You know his name, rogue, and +I will have it from you, or else----" + +"Indeed, indeed, most noble lord, be not incensed----" the fool began, +in fearful protestation. But the Duke interrupted him. + +"Incensed?" he echoed, his eyes dilating in a sort of horror at the +notion. "Do you dare impute to me the mortal sin of choler? I am +not incensed; there is no anger in me." He crossed himself, as if to +exorcise the evil mood if it indeed existed, and devotedly bowing his +head and folding his hands--"Libera me a malo, Domine!" he murmured +audibly. Then, with a greater fierceness than before--"Now," he +demanded, "will you tell me his name?" + +"I would I could," the terrified hunchback began. But at that the Duke +turned from him with a shrug of angry impatience, and clapping his hands +together: + +"Olá! Martino!" he called. Instantly the door opened, and the Swiss +appeared. "Bring in your men and your rope." + +The captain turned on his heel, and simultaneously the fool cast himself +at Gian Maria's feet. + +"Mercy, your Highness!" he wailed. "Do not have me hanged. I am----" + +"We are not going to hang you," the Duke broke in coldly. "Dead you +would indeed be dumb, and avail us nothing. We want you alive, Messer +Peppino--alive and talkative; we find you very reserved for a fool. But +we hope to make you speak." + +On his knees, Peppe raised his wild eyes to Heaven. + +"Mother of the Afflicted," he prayed, at which the Duke broke into a +contemptuous laugh. + +"What has the Heavenly Mother to do with such filth as you? Make your +appeals to me. I am the more immediate arbiter of your fate. Tell me +the name of that man you met in the woods, and all may yet be well with +you." + +Peppino knelt in silence, a cold sweat gathering on his pale brow, and a +horrid fear tightening at his heart and throat. + +And yet greater than this horror they were preparing for him was the +horror of losing his immortal soul by a breach of the solemn oath he +had sworn. Gian Maria turned from him, at last, to his bravi, who now +entered silently and with the air of men who knew the work expected +of them. Martino mounted the bed, and swung for an instant from the +framework of the canopy. + +"It will hold, Highness," he announced. + +Gian Maria bade him, since that was so, remove the velvet hangings, +whilst he despatched one of the men to see that the ante-chamber door +was closed, so that no cry should penetrate to the apartments of the +Valdicampo household. + +In a few seconds all was ready, and Peppino was rudely lifted from his +knees and from the prayers he had been pattering to the Virgin to lend +him strength in this hour of need. + +"For the last time, sir fool," quoth the Duke, "will you tell us his +name?" + +"Highness, I cannot," answered Peppe, for all that terror was freezing +his very blood. + +A light of satisfaction gleamed now in Gian Maria's eyes. + +"So you know it!" he exclaimed. "You no longer protest your ignorance, +but only that you cannot tell me. Up with him, Martino." + +In a last pitiable struggle against the inevitable, the fool broke from +his guards, and flung himself towards the door. One of the burly Swiss +caught him by the neck in a grip that made him cry out with pain. Gian +Maria eyed him with a sinister smile, and Martin proceeded to fasten one +end of the rope to his pinioned wrists. Then they led him, shivering +to the great bed. The other end of the cord was passed over one of +the bared arms of the canopy-frame. This end was grasped by the two +men-at-arms. Martin stood beside the prisoner. The Duke flung himself +into a great carved chair, an air of relish now investing his round, +pale face. + +"You know what is about to befall you," he said, in tones of chilling +indifference. "Will you speak before we begin?" + +"My lord," said the fool, in a voice that terror was throttling, "you +are a good Christian, a loyal son of Mother Church, and a believer in +the eternal fires of hell?" + +A frown settled on Gian Maria's brow. Was the fool about to intimidate +him with talk of supernatural vengeance? + +"Thus," Peppe continued, "you will perhaps be merciful when I confess +my position. I made most solemn oath to the man I met at Acquasparta on +that luckless day, that I would never reveal his identity. What am I to +do? If I keep my oath, you will torture me to death perhaps. If I break +it, I shall be damned eternally. Have mercy, noble lord, since now you +know how I am placed." + +The smile broadened on Gian Maria's face, and the cruelty of his mouth +and eyes seemed intensified by it. The fool had told him that which he +would have given much to learn. He had told him that this man whose +name he sought, had so feared that his presence that day at Acquasparta +should become known, that he had bound the fool by oath not to divulge +the secret of it. Of what he had before suspected he was now assured. +The man in question was one of the conspirators; probably the very +chief of them. Nothing short of the fool's death under torture would now +restrain him from learning the name of that unknown who had done him +the double injury of conspiring against him, and--if the fool were to be +believed--of capturing the heart of Valentina. + +"For the damnation of your soul I shall not be called to answer," he +said at last. "Care enough have I to save my own--for temptations are +many and this poor flesh is weak. But it is this man's name I need, +and--by the five wounds of Lucia of Viterbo!--I will have it. Will you +speak?" + +Something like a sob shook the poor fool's deformed frame. But that was +all. With bowed head he preserved a stubborn silence. The Duke made a +sign to the men, and instantly the two of them threw their weight upon +the rope, hoisting Peppe by his wrists until he was at the height of the +canopy itself. That done, they paused, and turned their eyes upon the +Duke for further orders. Again Gian Maria called upon the fool to answer +his questions; but Peppe, a writhing, misshapen mass from which two +wriggling legs depended, maintained a stubborn silence. + +"Let him go," snarled Gian Maria, out of patience. The men released the +rope, and allowed some three feet of it to run through their hands. +Then they grasped it again, so that Peppe's sudden fall was as suddenly +arrested by a jerk that almost wrenched his arms from their sockets. A +shriek broke from him at that exquisite torture, and he was dragged once +more to the full height of the canopy. + +"Will you speak now?" asked Gian Maria coldly, amusedly almost. But +still the fool was silent, his nether lip caught so tightly in his teeth +that the blood trickled from it adown his chin. Again the Duke gave the +signal, and again they let him go. This time they allowed him a longer +drop, so that the wrench with which they arrested it was more severe +than had been the first. + +Peppe felt his bones starting from their joints, and it was as if a +burning iron were searing him at shoulder, elbow and wrist. + +"Merciful God!" he screamed. "Oh, have pity, noble lord." + +But the noble lord had him hoisted anew to the canopy. Writhing there +in the extremity of his anguish, the poor hunchback poured forth from +frothing lips a stream of curses and imprecations, invoking Heaven and +hell to strike his tormentors dead. + +But the Duke, from whose demeanour it might be inferred that he was +inured to the effect produced by this form of torture, looked on with +a cruel smile, as of one who watches the progress of events towards the +end that he desires and has planned. He was less patient, and his signal +came more quickly now. For a third time the fool was dropped, and drawn +up, now, a short three feet from the ground. + +This time he did not so much as scream. He hung there, dangling at the +rope's end, his mouth all bloody, his face ghastly in its glistening +pallor, and of his eyes naught showing save the whites. He hung there, +and moaned piteously and incessantly. Martin glanced questioningly at +Gian Maria, and his eyes very plainly inquired whether they had not +better cease. But Gian Maria paid no heed to him. + +"Will that suffice you?" he asked the fool. "Will you speak now?" + +But the fool's only answer was a moan, whereupon again, at the Duke's +relentless signal, he was swung aloft. But at the terror of a fourth +drop, more fearful than any of its three predecessors, he awoke very +suddenly to the impossible horror of his position. That this agony would +endure until he died or fainted, he was assured. And since he seemed +incapable of either fainting or dying, suffer more he could not. What +was heaven or hell to him then that the thought of either could efface +the horror of this torture and strengthen him to continue to endure the +agony of it? He could endure no more--no, not to save a dozen souls if +he had had them: + +"I'll speak," he screamed. "Let me down, and you shall have his name, +Lord Duke." + +"Pronounce it first, or the manner of your descent shall be as the +others." + +Peppe passed his tongue over his bleeding lips, hung still and spoke. + +"It was your cousin," he panted, "Francesco del Falco, Count of Aquila." + +The Duke stared at him a moment, with startled countenance and mouth +agape. + +"You are telling me the truth, animal?" he demanded, in a quivering +voice. "It was the Count of Aquila who was wounded and whom Monna +Valentina tended?" + +"I swear it," answered the fool. "Now, in the name of God and His +blessed saints, let me down." + +For a moment yet he was held there, awaiting Gian Maria's signal. The +Duke continued to eye him with that same astonished look, what time he +turned over in his mind the news he had gathered. Then conviction of the +truth sank into his mind. It was the Lord of Aquila who was the idol +of the Babbianians. What, then, more natural than that the conspirators +should have sought to place him on the throne they proposed to wrest +from Gian Maria? He dubbed himself a fool that he had not guessed so +much before. + +"Let him down," he curtly bade his men. "Then take him hence, and let +him go with God. He has served his purpose." + +Gently they lowered him, but when his feet touched the ground he was +unable to stand. His legs doubled under him, and he lay--a little +crook-backed heap--upon the rushes of the floor. His senses had deserted +him. + +At a sign from Armstadt the two men picked him up and carried him out +between them. + +Gian Maria moved across the room to a tapestried priedieu, and knelt +down before an ivory crucifix to render thanks to God for the signal +light of grace, by which He had vouchsafed to show the Duke his enemy. + +Thereafter, drawing from the breast of his doublet a chaplet of gold and +amber beads, he piously discharged his nightly devotions. + + + + +CHAPTER X. THE BRAYING OF AN ASS + + +When on the morrow, towards the twenty-second hour, the High and Mighty +Gian Maria Sforza rode into his capital at Babbiano, he found the city +in violent turmoil, occasioned, as he rightly guessed, by the ominous +presence of Caesar Borgia's envoy. + +A dense and sullen crowd met him at the Porta Romana, and preserved a +profound silence as he rode into the city, accompanied by Alvari and +Santi, and surrounded by his escort of twenty spears in full armour. +There was a threat in that silence more ominous than any vociferations, +and very white was the Duke's face as he darted scowls of impotent anger +this way and that. But there was worse to come. As they rode up the +Borgo dell' Annunziata the crowd thickened, and the silence was now +replaced by a storm of hooting and angry cries. The people became +menacing, and by Armstadt's orders--the Duke was by now too paralysed +with fear to issue any--the men-at-arms lowered their pikes in order to +open a way, whilst one or two of the populace, who were thrust too near +the cavalcade by the surging human tide, went down and were trampled +under foot. + +Satirical voices asked the Duke derisively was he wed, and where might +be his uncle-in-law's spears that were to protect them against the +Borgia. Some demanded to know whither the last outrageous levy of taxes +was gone, and where was the army it should have served to raise. To +this, others replied for the Duke, suggesting a score of vile uses to +which the money had been put. + +Then, of a sudden, a cry of "Murderer!" arose, followed by angry demands +that he should restore life to the valiant Ferrabraccio, to Amerini, the +people's friend, and to those others whom he had lately butchered, or +else follow them in death. Lastly the name of the Count of Aquila rang +wildly in his ears, provoking a storm of "Evviva! Live Francesco del +Falco!" and one persistent voice, sounding loudly above the others, +styled him already "il Duca Francesco." At that the blood mounted to +Gian Maria's brain, and a wave of anger beat back the fear from his +heart. He rose in his stirrups, his eyes ablaze with the jealous wrath +that possessed him. + +"Ser Martino!" he roared hoarsely to his captain. "Couch lances and go +through them at the gallop!" + +The burly Swiss hesitated, brave man though he was. Alvaro de' Alvari +and Gismondo Santi looked at each other in alarm, and the intrepid +old statesman, in whose heart no pang of fear had been awakened by the +rabble's threatening bay, changed colour as he heard that order given. + +"Highness," he implored the Duke, "You cannot mean this." + +"Not mean it?" flashed back Gian Maria, his eye travelling from Santi to +the hesitating captain. "Fool!" he blazed at the latter. "Brute beast, +for what do you wait? Did you not hear me?" + +Without a second's delay the captain now raised his sword, and his deep, +guttural voice barked an order to his men which brought their lances +below the horizontal. The mob, too, had heard that fierce command, and +awakening to their peril, those nearest the cavalcade would have fallen +back but that the others, pressing tightly from behind, held them in the +death-tide that now swept by with clattering arms and hoarse cries. + +Shrieks filled the air where lately threats had been loudly tossed. But +some there were in that crowd that would be no passive witnesses of this +butchery. Half the stones of the borgo went after that cavalcade, and +fell in a persistent shower upon them, rattling like giant hail upon +their armour, dinting many a steel-cap to its wearer's sore discomfort. +The Duke himself was struck twice, and on Santi's unprotected scalp an +ugly wound was opened from which the blood flowed in profusion to dye +his snowy locks. + +In this undignified manner they reached, at last, the Palazzo Ducale, +leaving a trail of dead and maimed to mark the way by which they had +come. + +In a white heat of passion Gian Maria sought his apartments, and came +not forth again until, some two hours later, the presence was announced +him of the emissary from Caesar Borgia, Duke of Valentinois, who sought +an audience. + +Still beside himself, and boiling with wrath at the indignities he +had received, Gian Maria--in no mood for an interview that would +have demanded coolness and presence of mind from a keener brain than +his--received the envoy, a gloomy, priestly-faced Spaniard, in the +throne-room of the Palace. The Duke was attended by Alvari, Santi, and +Fabrizio da Lodi, whilst his mother, Caterina Colonna, occupied a chair +of crimson velvet on which the Sforza lion was wrought in gold. + +The interview was brief, and marked by a rudeness at its close that +contrasted sharply with the ceremoniousness of its inception. It soon +became clear that the ambassador's true mission was to pick a quarrel +with Babbiano on his master's behalf, to the end that the Borgia might +be afforded a sound pretext for invading the Duchy. He demanded, +at first politely and calmly, and later--when denied--with arrogant +insistance, that Gian Maria should provide the Duke of Valentinois with +a hundred lances--equivalent to five hundred men--as some contribution +on his part towards the stand which Caesar Borgia meant to make against +the impending French invasion. + +Gian Maria never heeded the restraining words which Lodi whispered in +his ear, urging him to temporise, and to put off this messenger until +the alliance with the house of Urbino should be complete and their +position strengthened sufficiently to permit them to brave the anger of +Caesar Borgia. But neither this nor the wrathful, meaning glances which +his cunning mother bent upon him served to curb him. He obeyed only the +voice of his headstrong mood, never dreaming of the consequences with +which he might be visited. + +"You will bear to the Duca Valentino this message from me," he said, +in conclusion. "You will tell him that what lances I have in Babbiano I +intend to keep, that with them I may defend my own frontiers against his +briganding advances. Messer da Lodi," he added, turning to Fabrizio and +without so much as waiting to see if the envoy had anything further to +say, "let this gentleman be reconducted to his quarters, and see that he +has safe conduct hence until he is out of our Duchy." + +When the envoy, crimson of face and threatening of eye, had withdrawn +under Lodi's escort, Monna Caterina rose, the very incarnation of +outraged patience, and poured her bitter invective upon her rash son's +head. + +"Fool!" she stormed at him. "There goes your Duchy--in the hollow of +that man's hand." Then she laughed in bitterness. "After all, in casting +it from you, perhaps you have chosen the wiser course, for, as truly as +there is a God in Heaven, you are utterly unfitted to retain it." + +"My lady mother," he answered her, with such dignity as he could muster +from the wretched heap in which his wits now seemed to lie, "you will +be well advised to devote yourself to your woman's tasks, and not to +interfere in a man's work." + +"Man's work!" she sneered. "And you perform it like a petulant boy or a +peevish woman." + +"I perform it, Madonna, as best seems to me, for it happens that I am +Duke of Babbiano," he answered sullenly. "I do not fear any Pope's son +that ever stepped. The alliance with Urbino is all but completed. Let +that be established, and if Valentino shows his teeth--by God we'll show +ours." + +"Aye, but with this difference, that his are a wolf's teeth, and yours a +lamb's. Besides, this alliance with Urbino is all incomplete as yet. You +had been better advised to have sent away the envoy with some indefinite +promise that would have afforded you respite enough in which to seal +matters with the house of Montefeltro. As it is, your days are numbered. +Upon that message you have sent him Caesar will act at once. For my own +part, I have no mind to fall a prey to the invader, and I shall leave +Babbiano, and seek refuge in Naples. And if a last word of advice I may +offer you, it is that you do the same." + +Gian Maria rose and came down from the dais, eyeing her in a sort of +dull amazement. Then he looked, as if for help, to Alvari, to Santi, +and lastly to Lodi, who had returned while Caterina was speaking. But no +word said any of them, and grave were the eyes of all. + +"Poor-spirited are you all!" he sneered. Then his face grew dark and his +tone concentrated. "Not so am I," he assured them, "if in the past I may +have seemed it sometimes. I am aroused at length, sirs. I heard a voice +in the streets of Babbiano to-day, and I saw a sight that has put a +fire into my veins. This good-tempered, soft, indulgent Duke you knew +is gone. The lion is awake at last, and you shall see such things as you +had not dreamt of." + +They regarded him now with eyes in which the gravity was increased by a +light of fearsome wonder and inquiry. Was his mind giving way under the +prodigious strain that had been set upon it that day? If not madness, +what else did that wild boasting argue? + +"Are you all dumb?" he asked them, his eyes feverish. "Or do you deem +that I promise more than is mine to fulfil. You shall judge, and soon. +To-morrow, my lady mother, whilst you journey south, as you have told +us, I go north again, back to Urbino. Not a day will I now waste. Within +the week, sirs, by God's grace, I shall be wed. That will give us Urbino +for a buckler, and with Urbino comes Perugia and Camerino. But more than +that. There is a princely dowry comes to us with the Lady Valentina. How +think you will I spend it? To the last florin it shall go to the arming +of men. I will hire me every free condotta in Italy. I will raise me +such an army as has never before been seen at any one time, and with +this I shall seek out the Duca Valentino. I'll not sit here at home +awaiting the pleasure of his coming, but I'll out to meet him, and with +that army I shall descend upon him as a thunderbolt out of Heaven. Aye, +my lady mother," he laughed in his madness, "the lamb shall hunt the +wolf, and rend it so that it shall never stand again to prey on other +lambs. This will I do, my friends, and there shall be such fighting as +has not been seen since the long-dead days of Castracani." + +They stared at him, scarce believing now that he was sane, and +marvelling deeply whence had sprung this sudden martial fervour in one +whose nature was more indolent than active, more timid than warlike. +And yet the reason was not far to seek, had they but cared to follow the +line of thought to which he, himself, had given them the clue when he +referred to the voice he had heard, and the sights he had seen in the +streets of Babbiano. The voice was the voice that had acclaimed his +cousin Francesco Duke. That it was through that a fierce jealousy had +fired him. This man had robbed him at once of the love of his people +and of Valentina, and thereby had set in his heart the burning desire +to outdo him and to prove wrong in their preference both his people and +Valentina. He was like a gamer who risks all on a single throw, and his +stake was to be the dowry of his bride, the game a tilt with the forces +of the Borgia. If he won he came out covered with glory, and not only +the saviour of his people and the champion of their liberty, but a +glorious figure that all Italy--or, at least, that part of it that +had known the iron heel of Valentino--should revere. Thus would he +set himself right, and thus crush from their minds the memory of his +rebellious cousin with whom he was about to deal. + +His mother turned to him now, and her words were words of caution, +prayers that he should adventure on naught so vast and appalling to her +woman's mind, without due thought and argument in council. A servant +entered at that moment, and approached the Duke. + +"Madonna," Gian Maria announced, breaking in upon her earnest words, +"I am fully resolved upon my course. If you will but delay a moment and +resume your seat, you shall witness the first scene of this great +drama that I am preparing." Then turning to the waiting servant: "Your +message?" he demanded. + +"Captain Armstadt has returned, Highness, and has brought his +Excellency." + +"Fetch lights and then admit them," he commanded briefly. "To your +places, sirs, and you, my mother. I am about to sit in judgment." + +Amazed and uncomprehending, they obeyed his wild gestures, and resumed +their places by the throne even as he walked back to the dais and sat +himself upon the ducal chair. Servants entered, bearing great candelabra +of beaten gold which they set on table and overmantel. They withdrew, +and when the doors opened again, a clank of mail, reaching them from +without, increased the astonishment of the company. + +This rose yet higher, and left them cold and speechless, when into the +chamber stepped the Count of Aquila with a man-at-arms on either side +of him, marking him a prisoner. With a swift, comprehensive glance that +took in the entire group about the throne--and without manifesting the +slightest surprise at Lodi's presence--Francesco stood still and awaited +his cousin's words. + +He was elegantly dressed, but without lavishness, and if he had the air +of a great lord, it was rather derived from the distinction of his face +and carriage. He was without arms, and bareheaded save for the gold coif +he always wore, which seemed to accentuate the lustrous blackness of +his hair. His face was impassive, and the glance as that of a man rather +weary of the entertainment provided him. + +There was an oppressive silence of some moments, during which his cousin +regarded him with an eye that glittered oddly. At last Gian Maria broke +into speech, his voice shrill with excitement. + +"Know you of any reason," he demanded, "why your head should not be +flaunted on a spear among those others on the Gate of San Bacolo?" + +Francesco's eyebrows shot up in justifiable astonishment. + +"I know of many," he answered, with a smile, an answer which by its +simplicity seemed to nonplus the Duke. + +"Let us hear some of them," he challenged presently. + +"Nay, let us hear, rather, some reason why my poor head should be so +harshly dealt with. When a man is rudely taken, as I have been, it is +a custom, which perhaps your Highness will follow, to afford him some +reason for the outrage." + +"You smooth-tongued traitor," quoth the Duke, with infinite malice, made +angrier by his cousin's dignity. "You choicely-spoken villain! You would +learn why you have been taken? Tell me, sir, what did you at Acquasparta +on the morning of the Wednesday before Easter?" + +The Count's impassive face remained inscrutable, a mask of patient +wonder. By the sudden clenching of his hands alone did he betray how +that thrust had smitten him, and his hands none there remarked. Fabrizio +da Lodi, standing behind the Duke, went pale to the lips. + +"I do not recall that I did anything there of much account," he +answered. "I breathed the good spring air in the woods." + +"And nothing else?" sneered Gian Maria. + +"I can bethink me of little else that signifies. I met a lady there with +whom I had some talk, a friar, a fool, a popinjay, and some soldiers. +But,"--he shifted abruptly, his tone growing haughty--"whatever I did, +I did as best seemed to me, and I have yet to learn that the Count of +Aquila must give account of what he does and where he does it. You +have not told me yet, sir, by what right, or fancied right, you hold me +prisoner." + +"Have I not, indeed? See you no link between your offence and your +presence near Sant' Angelo on that day?" + +"If I am to apprehend that you have had me brought here with this +indignity to set me riddles for your amusement, I am enlightened and yet +amazed. I am no court buffoon." + +"Words, words," snapped the Duke. "Do not think to beguile me with +them." With a short laugh he turned from Francesco to those upon the +dais. "You will be marvelling, sirs, and you, my lady mother, upon what +grounds I have had this traitor seized. You shall learn. On the night of +the Tuesday before Easter seven traitors met at Sant' Angelo to plot +my overthrow. Of those, the heads of four may be seen on the walls +of Babbiano now; the other three made off, but there stands one of +them--the one that was to have occupied this throne after they had +unseated me." + +The eyes of all were now upon the young Count, whilst his own glance +strayed to the face of Lodi, on which there was written a consternation +so great that it must have betrayed him had the Duke but chanced to look +his way. A pause ensued which none present dared to break. Gian +Maria seemed to await an answer from Francesco; but Francesco stood +impassively regarding him, and made no sign that he would speak. At +length, unable longer to endure the silence: + +"E dunque?" cried the Duke. "Have you no answer?" + +"I would submit," returned Francesco, "that I have heard no question. +I heard a wild statement, extravagant and mad, the accusation of one +demented, a charge of which no proofs can be forthcoming, else I take +it you had not withheld them. I ask you, sirs, and you, Madonna," he +continued, turning to the others, "has his Highness said anything to +which an answer can by any means be necessary?" + +"Is it proofs you lack?" cried Gian Maria, but less confidently than +hitherto, and, so, less fiercely. A doubt had arisen in his mind born of +this strange calm on the part of Francesco--a calm that to Gian Maria's +perceptions seemed hardly the garb of guilt, but belonged rather to one +who is assured that no peril threatens him. "Is it proofs you lack?" +quoth the Duke again, and then with the air of a man launching an +unanswerable question: "How came you by the wound you had that day in +the woods?" + +A smile quivered on Francesco's face, and was gone. + +"I asked for proofs, not questions," he protested wearily. "What shall +it prove if I had a hundred wounds?" + +"Prove?" echoed the Duke, less and less confident of his ground, fearing +already that he had perhaps gone too fast and too far upon the road of +his suspicions. "It proves to me, when coupled with your presence there, +that you were in the fight the night before." + +Francesco stirred at that. He sighed and smiled at once. Then assuming a +tone of brisk command: + +"Bid these men begone," he said, pointing to his guards. "Then hear me +scatter your foul suspicions as the hurricane scatters the leaves in +autumn." + +Gian Maria stared at him in stupefaction. That overwhelming assurance, +that lofty, dignified bearing which made such a noble contrast with +his own coarse hectoring, were gradually undermining more and more +his confidence. With a wave of his hand he motioned the soldiers to +withdraw, obeying almost unconsciously the master-mind of his cousin by +which he was as unconsciously being swayed. + +"Now, Highness," said Francesco, as soon as the men were gone, "before +I refute the charge you make, let me clearly understand it. From the +expressions you have used I gather it to be this: A conspiracy was laid +a little time ago at Sant' Angelo which had for object to supplant you +on the throne of Babbiano and set me in your place. You charge me with +having had in that conspiracy a part--the part assigned to me. It is so, +is it not?" + +Gian Maria nodded. + +"You have put it very clearly," he sneered. "If you can make out your +innocence as clearly, I shall be satisfied that I have wronged you." + +"That this conspiracy took place we will accept as proven, although to +the people of Babbiano the proof may have seemed scant. A man, since +dead, had told your Highness that such a plot was being hatched. Hardly, +perhaps, in itself, evidence enough to warrant setting the heads of four +very valiant gentlemen on spears, but no doubt your Highness had other +proofs to which the rest of us had no access." + +Gian Maria shivered at the words. He recalled what Francesco had said +on the occasion of their last talk upon this very subject; he remembered +the manner of his own reception that day in Babbiano. + +"We must be content that it is so," calmly pursued Francesco. "Indeed, +your Highness's action in the matter leaves no doubt. We will accept, +then, that such a plot was laid, but that I had a part in it, that I was +the man chosen to take your place--need I prove the idleness of such a +charge?" + +"You need, in truth. By God! you need, if you would save your head." + +The Count stood in an easy posture, his hands clasped behind his back, +and smiled up at his cousin's pale face and scowling brow. + +"How mysterious are the ways of your justice, Cousin," he murmured, with +infinite relish; "what a wondrous equity invests your methods! You have +me dragged here by force, and sitting there, you say to me: 'Prove that +you have not conspired against me, or the headsman shall have you!' By +my faith! Soloman was a foolish prattler when compared with you." + +Gian Maria smote the gilded arm of his chair a blow for which he was to +find his hand blackened on the morrow. + +"Prove it!" he screamed, like a child in a pet. "Prove it, prove it, +prove it!" + +"And have my words not already proven it?" quoth the Count, in a voice +of such mild wonder and gentle protest that it left Gian Maria gasping. + +Then the Duke made a hasty gesture of impatience. + +"Messer Alvari," he said, in a voice of concentrated rage, "I think you +had best recall the guard." + +"Wait!" the Count compelled him, raising his hand. And now it was +seen that the easy insouciance was gone from his face: the smile had +vanished, and in its place there was a look of lofty and contemptuous +wrath. "I will repeat my words. You have dragged me here before you by +force, and, sitting there on the throne of Babbiano, you say: 'Prove +that you have not conspired against me if you would save your head.'" +A second he paused, and noted the puzzled look with which all regarded +him. + +"Is this a parable?" sneered the uncomprehending Duke. + +"You have said it," flashed back Francesco. "A parable it is. And if you +consider it, does it not afford you proof enough?" he asked, a note of +triumph in his voice. "Do not our relative positions irrefutably show +the baselessness of this your charge? Should I stand here and you +sit there if what you allege against me were true?" He laughed almost +savagely, and his eyes flashed scornfully upon the Duke. "If more +plainly still you need it, Gian Maria, I tell you that had I plotted to +occupy your tottering throne, I should be on it now, not standing here +defending myself against a foolish charge. But can you doubt it? Did you +learn no lesson as you rode into Babbiano to-day? Did you not hear them +acclaim me and groan at you. And yet," he ended, with a lofty pity, +"you tell me that I plotted. Why, if I desired your throne, my only need +would be to unfurl my banner in the streets of your capital, and within +the hour Gian Maria would be Duke no more. Have I proved my innocence, +Highness?" he ended quietly, sadly almost. "Are you convinced how little +is my need for plots?" + +But the Duke had no answer for him. Speechless, and in a sort of dazed +horror, he sat and scowled before him at his cousin's handsome face, +what time the others watched him furtively, in silence, trembling for +the young man who, here, in his grasp, had dared say such things to him. +Presently he covered his face with his hands, and sat so, as one +deeply in thought, a little while. At last he withdrew them slowly and +presented a countenance that passion and chagrin had strangely ravaged +in so little time. He turned to Santi, who stood nearest. + +"The guard," he said hoarsely, with a wave of the hand, and Santi went, +none daring to utter a word. They waited thus an odd group, all very +grave save one, and he the one that had most cause for gravity. Then the +captain re-entered, followed by his two men, and Gian Maria waved a hand +towards the prisoner. + +"Take him away," he muttered harshly, his face ghastly, and passion +shaking him like an aspen. "Take him away, and await my orders in the +ante-chamber." + +"If it is farewell, Cousin," said Francesco, "may I hope that you will +send a priest to me? I have lived a faithful Christian." + +Gian Maria returned him no answer, but his baleful eye was upon Martino. +Reading the significance of that glance, the captain touched Francesco +lightly on the arm. A moment the Count stood, looking from the Duke to +the soldiers; a second his glance rested on those assembled there; then, +with a light raising of his shoulders, he turned on his heel, and with +his head high passed out of the ducal chamber. + +And silence continued after he was gone until Caterina Colonna broke it +with a laugh that grated on Gian Maria's now very tender nerves. + +"You promised bravely," she mocked him, "to play the lion. But so far, +we have only heard the braying of an ass." + + + + +CHAPTER XI. WANDERING KNIGHTS + + +That taunt of his mother's stirred Gian Maria. He rose from his ducal +chair and descended from the dais on which it stood, possessed by a +tempestuous mood that would not brook him to sit still. + +"The braying of an ass?" he muttered, facing Caterina. Then he laughed +unpleasantly. "The jaw-bone of an ass did sore execution on one +occasion, Madonna, and it may again. A little patience, and you shall +see." Next, and with a brisker air, he addressed the four silent +courtiers, "You heard him, sirs," he exclaimed, "How do you say that I +shall deal with such a traitor?" He waited some seconds for an answer, +and it seemed to anger him that none came. "Have you, then, no counsel +for me?" he demanded harshly. + +"I had not thought," said Lodi hardily, "that this was a case in which +your Highness needed counsel. You were drawn to conclude that the Lord +of Aquila was a traitor, but from what we have all heard, your Highness +should now see that he is not." + +"Should I so?" the Duke returned, standing still and fixing upon +Fabrizio an eye that was dull as a snake's. "Messer da Lodi, your +loyalty is a thing that has given signs of wavering of late. Now, if +by the grace of God and His blessed saints I have ruled as a merciful +prince who errs too much upon the side of clemency, I would enjoin you +not to try that clemency too far. I am but a man, after all." + +He turned from the fearless front presented by the old statesman, to +face the troubled glances of the others. + +"Your silence, sirs, tells me that in this matter your judgement runs +parallel with mine. And you are wise, for in such a case there can be +but one course. My cousin has uttered words to-day which no man has ever +said to a prince and lived. Nor shall we make exception to that rule. My +Lord of Aquila's head must pay the price of his temerity." + +"My son," cried Caterina, in a voice of horror. Gian Maria faced her in +a passion, his countenance grown mottled. + +"I have said it," he growled. "I will not sleep until he dies." + +"Yet never may you wake again," she answered. And with that preamble +she launched upon his head the bitterest criticism he had ever heard. By +stinging epithets and contemptuous words, she sought to make him see the +folly of what he meditated. Was he indeed tired of ruling Babbiano? +If that were so, she told him, he had but to wait for Caesar Borgia's +coming. He need not precipitate matters by a deed that must lead to a +revolt, a rising of the people to avenge their idol. + +"You have given me but added reasons," he answered her stoutly. "There +is no room in my Duchy for a man whose death, if it pleased me to +encompass it, would be avenged upon me by my own people." + +"Then send him from your dominions," she urged. "Banish him, and all may +be well. But if you slay him, I should not count your life worth a day's +purchase." + +This advice was sound, and in the end they prevailed upon him to adopt +it. But it was not done save at the cost of endless prayers on the part +of those courtiers, and the persuasions of Caterina's biting scorn and +prophecies of the fate that surely awaited him did he touch the life of +one so wellbeloved. At last, against his will, he sullenly consented +that the banishment of his cousin should content him. But it was with +infinite bitterness and regret that he passed his word, for his jealousy +was of a quality that nothing short of Francesco's death could have +appeased. Certain it is that nothing but the fear of the consequences, +which his mother had instilled into his heart, could have swayed him to +be satisfied that the Count of Aquila should be banished. + +He sent for Martino and bade him return the Count his sword, and he +entrusted the message of exile to Fabrizio da Lodi, charging him to +apprise Francesco that he was allowed twenty-four hours' grace in which +to take himself beyond the dominions of Gian Maria Sforza. + +That done--and with an exceedingly ill grace--the Duke turned on his +heel, and with a sullen brow he left the ducal chamber, and passed, +unattended, to his own apartments. + +Rejoicing, Fabrizio da Lodi went his errand, which he discharged with +certain additions that might have cost him his head had knowledge of +them come to Gian Maria. In fact, he seized the opportunity to again +press upon Francesco the throne of Babbiano. + +"The hour is very ripe," he urged the Count, "and the people love you +as surely prince was never loved. It is in their interests that I plead. +You are their only hope. Will you not come to them?" + +If for a moment Francesco hesitated, it was rather in consideration of +the manner in which the crown was offered than in consequence of any +allurement that the offer may have had for him. Once--that night at +Sant' Angelo--he had known temptation, and for a moment had listened to +the seductions in the voice that invited him to power. But not so now. +A thought he gave to the people who had such faith in him, and showered +upon him such admiring love, and whom, as a matter of reciprocity, he +wished well, and would have served in any capacity but this. He shook +his head, and with a smile of regret declined the offer. + +"Have patience, old friend," he added. "I am not of the stuff that goes +to make good princes, although you think it. It is a bondage into which +I would not sell myself. A man's life for me, Fabrizio--a free life that +is not directed by councillors and at the mercy of the rabble." + +Fabrizio's face grew sad. He sighed profoundly, yet since it might not +be well for him that he should remain over-long in talk with one who, +in the Duke's eyes, was attainted with treason, he had not leisure to +insist with persuasions, which, after all, he clearly saw must in the +end prove barren. + +"What was the salvation of the people of Babbiano," he murmured, "was +also your Excellency's, since did you adopt the course I urge there +would be no need to go in banishment." + +"Why, this exile suits me excellently well," returned Francesco. "Idle +have I been over-long, and the wish to roam is in my veins again. I'll +see the world once more, and when I weary of my vagrancy I can withdraw +to my lands of Aquila, and in that corner of Tuscany, too mean to draw +a conqueror's eye, none will molest me, and I shall rest. Babbiano, my +friend, shall know me no more after to-night. When I am gone, and the +people realise that they may not have what they would, they may +rest content perhaps with what they may." And he waved a hand in the +direction of the doors leading to the ducal chamber. With that he took +his leave of his old friend, and, carrying in his hand the sword and +dagger which Captain Armstadt had returned to him, he repaired briskly +to the northern wing of the Palace, in which he had his lodging. + +In the ante-room he dismissed those of his servants who had been taken +from the ranks of the Duke's people, and bade his own Tuscan followers, +Zaccaria and Lanciotto, see to the packing of his effects, and make all +ready to set out within the hour. + +He was no coward, but he had no wish to die just yet if it might be +honourably avoided. Life had some sweets to offer Francesco del +Falco, and this spurred him to hasten, for he well knew his cousin's +unscrupulous ways. He was aware that Gian Maria had been forced by +weight of argument to let him go, and he shrewdly feared that did he +linger, his cousin might veer round again, and without pausing to seek +advice a second time, have him disposed of out of hand and reckless of +consequences. + +Whilst Lanciotto was left busy in the ante-room the Count passed into +his bedchamber attended by Zaccaria, to make in his raiment such changes +as were expedient. But scarce had he begun when he was interrupted by +the arrival of Fanfulla degli Arcipreti, whom Lanciotto ushered in. +Francesco's face lighted at sight of his friend, and he held out his +hand. + +"What is it that has happened?" cried the young gallant, adding that +which showed his question to be unnecessary, for from Fabrizio da Lodi +he had had the whole story of what was befallen. He sat himself upon the +bed, and utterly disregarding the presence of Zaccaria--whom he knew +to be faithful--he attempted to persuade the Count where Fabrizio had +failed. But Paolo cut him short ere he had gone very far. + +"Have done with that," he said, and for all that he said it with +a laugh, determination sounded sturdy in his accents. "I am a +knight-errant, not a prince, and I'll not be converted from one to the +other. It were making a helot of a free man, and you do not love me, +Fanfulla, if you drive this argument further. Do you think me sad, +cast down, at the prospect of this banishment? Why, boy, the blood runs +swifter through my veins since I heard the sentence. It frees me from +Babbiano in an hour when perhaps my duty--the reciprocation of the +people's love--might otherwise have held me here, and it gives me +liberty to go forth, my good Fanfulla, in quest of such adventure as +I choose to follow." He threw out his arms, and displayed his splendid +teeth in a hearty laugh. + +Fanfulla eyed him, infected by the boisterous gladness of his mood. + +"Why, true indeed, my lord," he acknowledged, "you are too fine a bird +to sing in a cage. But to go knight-erranting----" He paused, and spread +his hands in protest. "There are no longer dragons holding princesses +captive." + +"Alas no. But the Venetians are on the eve of war, and they will find +work for these hands of mine. I want not for friends among them." + +Fanfulla sighed. + +"And so we lose you. The stoutest arm in Babbiano leaves us in the hour +of need, driven out by that loutish Duke. By my soul, Ser Francesco, I +would I might go with you. Here is nothing to be done." + +Francesco paused in the act of drawing on a boot, and raised his eyes to +stare a moment at his friend. + +"But if you wish it, Fanfulla, I shall rejoice to have your company." + +And now the idea of it entered Fanfulla's mind in earnest, for his +expression had been more or less an idle one. But since Francesco +invited him, why not indeed? + +And thus it came to pass that at the third hour of that warm May night +a party of four men on horseback and two sumpter mules passed out of +Babbiano and took the road that leads to Vinamare, and thence into the +territory of Urbino. These riders were the Count of Aquila and Fanfulla +degli Arcipreti, followed by Lanciotto leading a mule that bore the arms +of those knights-errant, and Zaccaria leading another with their general +baggage. + +All night they rode beneath the stars, and on until some three hours +after sunrise, when they made halt in a hollow of the hills not far from +Fabriano. They tethered their horses in a grove of peaceful laurel and +sheltering mulberry, at the foot of a slope that was set with olive +trees, grey, gnarled and bent as aged cripples, and beside the river +Esino at a spot where it was so narrow that an agile man might leap its +width. Here, then, they spread their cloaks, and Zaccaria unpacked +his victuals, and set before them a simple meal of bread and wine and +roasted fowl, which to their hunger made more appeal than a banquet at +another season. And when they had eaten they laid them down beside the +stream, and there beguiled in pleasant talk the time until they fell +asleep. They rested them through the heat of the day, and waking some +three hours after noon, the Count rose up and went some dozen paces down +the stream to a spot where it fell into a tiny lake--a pool deep and +blue as the cloudless heavens which it mirrored. Here he stripped off +his garments and plunged headlong in, to emerge again, some moments +later, refreshed and reinvigorated in body and in soul. + +As Fanfulla awoke he beheld an apparition coming towards him, a figure +lithe and stalwart as a sylvian god, the water shining on the ivory +whiteness of his skin and glistening in his sable hair as the sunlight +caught it. + +"Tell me now, Fanfulla, lives there a man of so depraved a mind that he +would prefer a ducal crown to this?" + +And the courtier, seeing Francesco's radiant mien, understood perhaps, +at last, how sordid was the ambition that could lure a man from such a +god-like freedom, and from the holy all-consuming joys it brought him. +His thoughts being started upon that course, it was of this they talked +what time the Count resumed his garments--his hose of red, his knee-high +boots of untanned leather, and his quilted brigandine of plain brown +cloth, reputed dagger-proof. He rose at last to buckle on his belt +of hammered steel, from which there hung, behind his loins, a stout, +lengthy dagger, the only weapon that he carried. + +At his command the horses were saddled and the sumpters laden once more. +Lanciotto held his stirrup, and Zaccaria did like service for Fanfulla, +and presently they were cantering out of that fragrant grove on to the +elastic sward of broad, green pasture-lands. They crossed the stream at +a spot where the widened sheet of water scarce went higher than their +horses' hocks; then veering to the east they rode away from the hills +for a half-league or so until they gained a road. Here they turned +northward again, and pushed on towards Cagli. + +As the bells were ringing the Ave Maria the cavalcade drew up before +the Palazzo Valdicampo, where two nights ago Gian Maria had been +entertained. Its gates were now as readily thrown wide to welcome the +illustrious and glorious Count of Aquila, who was esteemed by Messer +Valdicampo no less than his more puissant cousin. Chambers were set at +his disposal, and at Fanfulla's; servants were bidden to wait upon them; +fresh raiment was laid out for them, and a noble supper was prepared to +do honour to Francesco. Nor did the generous Valdicampo's manner cool +when he learned that Francesco was in disgrace at the Court of Babbiano +and banished from the dominions of Duke Gian Maria. He expressed +sympathetic regret at so untoward a circumstance and discreetly +refrained from passing any opinion thereupon. + +Yet later, as they supped, and when perhaps the choice wines had +somewhat relaxed his discretion, he permitted himself to speak of Gian +Maria's ways in terms that were very far from laudatory. + +"Here, in my house," he informed them, "he committed an outrage upon a +poor unfortunate, for which an account may yet be asked of me--since it +was under my roof that the thing befell, for all that I knew nothing of +it." + +Upon being pressed by Paolo to tell them more, he parted with the +information that the unfortunate in question was Urbino's jester Peppe. +At that, Paolo's glance became more intent. The memory of his meeting +with the fool and his mistress in the woods, a month ago, flashed now +across his mind, and it came to him that he could rightly guess the +source whence his cousin had drawn the information that had led to his +own arrest and banishment. + +"Of what nature was the outrage?" he inquired. + +"From what Peppe himself has told me it would seem that the fool was +possessed of some knowledge which Gian Maria sought, but on which Peppe +was bound by oath to silence. Gian Maria caused him to be secretly taken +and carried off from Urbino. His sbirri brought the fellow here, and to +make him speak the Duke improvised in his bedchamber a tratta di corde, +which had the desired result." + +The Count's face grew dark with anger. "The coward!" he muttered. "The +dastardly craven!" + +"But bethink you, sir Count," exclaimed Valdicampo, "that this poor +Peppe is a frail and deformed creature, lacking the strength of an +ordinary man, and do not judge him over-harshly." + +"It was not of him I spoke," replied Francesco, "but of my cousin, that +cowardly tyrant, Gian Maria Sforza. Tell me, Messer Valdicampo--what has +become of Ser Peppe?" + +"He is still here. I have had him tended, and his condition is already +much improved. It will not be long ere he is recovered, but for a few +days yet his arms will remain almost useless. They were all but torn +from his body." + +When the meal was done Francesco begged his host to conduct him to +Peppe's chamber. This Valdicampo did, and leaving Fanfulla in the +company of the ladies of his house, he escorted the Count to the room +where the poor, ill-used hunchback was abed tended by one of the women +of Valdicampo's household. + +"Here is a visitor to see you, Ser Peppe," the old gentleman announced, +setting down his candle on a table by the bed. The jester turned his +great head towards the newcomer's, and sought with melancoly eyes the +face of his visitor. At sight of him a look of terror spread itself upon +his countenance. + +"My lord," he cried, struggling into a sitting posture, "my noble, +gracious lord, have mercy on me. I could tear out this craven tongue of +mine. But did you know what agonies I suffered, and to what a torture +they submitted me to render me unfaithful, it may be that you, yourself, +would pity me." + +"Why, that I do," answered Francesco gently. "Indeed, could I have seen +the consequences that oath would have for you, I had not bound you by +it." + +The fear in Peppe's face gave place to unbelief. + +"And you forgive me, lord?" he cried. "I dreaded when you entered +that you were come to punish me for what wrong I may have done you in +speaking. But if you forgive me, it may be that Heaven will forgive me +also, and that I may not be damned. And that were a thousand pities, for +what, my lord, should I do in hell?" + +"Deride the agonies of Gian Maria," answered Francesco, with a laugh. + +"It were almost worth burning for," mused Peppe, putting forth a hand, +whose lacerated, swollen wrist bore evidence to the torture he had +suffered. At sight of it the Count made an exclamation of angry horror, +and hastened to inquire into the poor fool's condition. + +"It is not so bad now," Peppe answered him, "and it is only in +consequence of Messer Valdicampo's insistence that I have kept my bed. I +can scarce use my arms, it is true, but they are improving. To-morrow +I shall be up, and I hope to set out for Urbino, where my dear mistress +must be distressed with fears for my absence, for she is a very kind and +tenderhearted lady." + +This resolve of Peppe's prompted the Count to offer to conduct him +to Urbino on the morrow, since he, himself, would be journeying that +way--an offer which the fool accepted without hesitation and with lively +gratitude. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. THE FOOL'S INQUISITIVENESS + + +In the morning Francesco set out once more, accompanied by his servants, +Fanfulla, and the fool. The latter was now so far restored as to be able +to sit a mule, but lest the riding should over-tire him they proceeded +at little more than an ambling pace along the lovely valleys of the +Metauro. Thus it befell that when night descended it found them still +journeying, and some two leagues distant from Urbino. Another league +they travelled in the moonlight, and the fool was beguiling the time +for them with a droll story culled from the bright pages of Messer +Boccaccio, when of a sudden his sharp ears caught a sound that struck +him dumb in the middle of a sentence. + +"Are you faint?" asked Francesco, turning quickly towards him, and +mindful of the fellow's sore condition. + +"No, no," answered the fool, with a readiness that dispelled the Count's +alarm on that score. "I thought I heard a sound of marching in the +distance." + +"The wind in the trees, Peppino," explained Fanfulla. + +"I do not think----" He stopped short and listened and now they all +heard it, for it came wafted to them on a gust of the fitful breeze that +smote their faces. + +"You are right," said Francesco. "It is the tramp of men. But what +of that, Peppe? Men will march in Italy. Let us hear the end of your +story." + +"But who should march in Urbino, and by night?" the fool persisted. + +"Do I know or do I care?" quoth the Count. "Your story, man." + +For all that he was far from satisfied, the fool resumed his narrative. +But he no longer told it with his former irresistible humour. His mind +was occupied with that sound of marching, which came steadily nearer. +At length he could endure it no longer, and the apathy of his companions +fired him openly to rebel. + +"My lord," he cried, turning to the Count, and again leaving his story +interrupted, "they are all but upon us." + +"True!" agreed Francesco indifferently. "The next turn yonder should +bring us into them." + +"Then I beg you, Lord Count, to step aside. Let us pause here, under +the trees, until they have passed. I am full of fears. Perhaps I am a +coward, but I mislike these roving night-hands. It may be a company of +masnadieri." + +"What then?" returned the Count, without slackening speed. "What cause +have we to fear a party of robbers?" + +But Fanfulla and the servants joined their advice to Peppe's, and +prevailed at last upon Francesco to take cover until this company should +have passed. He consented, to pacify them, and wheeling to the right +they entered the border of the forest, drawing rein well in the shadow, +whence they could survey the road and see who passed across the patch +of moonlight that illumined it. And presently the company came along +and swung into that revealing flood of light. To the astonishment of +the watchers they beheld no marauding party such as they had been led to +expect, but a very orderly company of some twenty men, soberly arrayed +in leather hacketons and salades of bright steel, marching sword +on thigh and pike on shoulder. At the head of this company rode a +powerfully-built man on a great sorrel horse, at sight of whom the +fool swore softly in astonishment. In the middle of the party came four +litters borne by mules, and at the side of one of them rode a slender, +graceful figure that provoked from Peppe a second oath. But the +profoundest objurgation of all was wrung from him at sight of a portly +bulk in the black habit of the Dominicans ambling in the rear, who just +then was in angry altercation with a fellow that was urging his mule +along with the butt of his partisan. + +"May you be roasted on a gridiron like Saint Lawrence," gasped the irate +priest. "Would you break my neck, brute beast that you are? Do you +but wait until we reach Roccaleone, and by St. Dominic, I'll get your +ruffianly commander to hang you for this ill-seasoned jest." + +But his tormentor laughed for answer, and smote the mule again, a blow +this time that almost caused it to rear up. The friar cried out in +angry alarm, and then, still storming and threatening his persecutor, he +passed on. After him came six heavily-laden carts, each drawn by a pair +of bullocks, and the rear of the procession was brought up by a flock of +a dozen bleating sheep, herded by a blasphemant man-at-arms. They passed +the astonished watchers, who remained concealed until that odd company +had melted away into the night. + +"I could swear," said Fanfulla, "that that friar and I have met before." + +"Nor would you do a perjury," answered him the fool. "For it is that fat +hog Fra Domenico--he that went with you to the Convent of Acquasparta to +fetch unguents for his Excellency." + +"What does he in that company, and who are they?" asked the Count, +turning to the fool as they rode out of their ambush. + +"Ask me where the devil keeps his lures," quoth the fool, "and I'll +make some shift to answer you. But as for what does Fra Domenico in that +galley, it is more than I can hazard a guess on. He is not the only +one known to me," Peppino added, "There was Ercole Fortemani, a great, +dirty, blustering ruffian whom I never saw in aught but rags, riding at +their heads in garments of most unwonted wholeness; and there was Romeo +Gonzaga, whom I never knew to stir by night save to an assignation. +Strange things must be happening in Urbino." + +"And the litters?" inquired Francesco, "Can you hazard no guess as to +their meaning?" + +"None," said he, "saving that they may account for the presence of +Messer Gonzaga. For litters argue women." + +"It seems, fool, that not even your wisdom shall avail us. But you heard +the friar say they were bound for Roccaleone?" + +"Yes, I heard that. And by means of it we shall probably learn the rest +at the end of our journey." + +And being a man of extremely inquisitive mind, the fool set his +inquiries on foot the moment they entered the gates of Urbino in the +morning--for they had reached the city over-late to gain admittance that +same night, and were forced to seek shelter in one of the houses by the +river. It was of the Captain of the Gate that he sought information. + +"Can you tell me, Ser Capitan," he inquired, "what company was that that +travelled yesternight to Roccaleone?" + +The captain looked at him a moment. + +"There was none that I know of," said he, "Certainly none from Urbino." + +"You keep a marvellous watch," said the fool drily. "I tell you that a +company of men-at-arms some twenty strong went last night from Urbino to +Roccaleone." + +"To Roccaleone?" echoed the captain, with a musing air, more attentively +than before, as if the repetition of that name had suggested something +to his mind. "Why, it is the castle of Monna Valentina." + +"True, sapient sir. But what of the company, and why was it travelling +so, by night?" + +"How know you it proceeded from Urbino?" quoth the captain earnestly. + +"Because at its head I recognised the roaring warrior Ercole Fortemani, +in the middle rode Romeo Gonzaga, in the rear came Fra Domenico, +Madonna's confessor--men of Urbino all." + +The officer's face grew purple at the news. + +"Were there any women in the party?" he cried. + +"I saw none," replied the fool, in whom this sudden eagerness of the +captain's awakened caution and reflection. + +"But there were four litters," put in Francesco, whose nature was less +suspicious and alert than the wise fool's. + +Too late Peppe scowled caution at him. The captain swore a great oath. + +"It is she," he cried, with assurance. "And this company was travelling +to Roccaleone, you say. How know you that?" + +"We heard it from the friar," answered Francesco readily. + +"Then, by the Virgin! we have them. Olá!" He turned from them, and ran +shouting into the gatehouse, to re-emerge a moment later with half-dozen +soldiers at his heels. + +"To the Palace," he commanded, and as his men surrounded Francesco's +party, "Come, sir," he said to the Count. "You must go with us, and tell +your story to the Duke." + +"There is no need for all this force," answered Francesco coldly. +"In any case, I could not pass through Urbino without seeing Duke +Guidobaldo. I am the Count of Aquila." + +At once the captain's bearing grew respectful. He made his apologies for +the violent measures of his zeal, and bade his men fall behind. Ordering +them to follow him, he mounted a horse that was brought him, and rode +briskly through the borgo at the Count's side. And as he rode he told +them what the jester's quick intuition had already whispered to him. +The lady Valentina was fled from Urbino in the night, and in her company +were gone three of her ladies, and--it was also supposed, since they had +disappeared--Fra Domenico and Romeo Gonzaga. + +Aghast at what he heard, Francesco pressed his informer for more news; +but there was little more that the captain could tell him, beyond +the fact that it was believed she had been driven to it to escape her +impending marriage with the Duke of Babbiano. Guidobaldo was distraught +at what had happened, and anxious to bring the lady back before news of +her behaviour should reach the ears of Gian Maria. It was, therefore, a +matter of no little satisfaction to the captain that the task should be +his to bear Guidobaldo this news of her whereabouts which from Francesco +and the jester he had derived. + +Peppe looked glum and sullen. Had he but bridled his cursed curiosity, +and had the Count but taken the alarm in time and held his peace, all +might have been well with his beloved patrona. As it was, he--the one +man ready to die that he might serve her--had been the very one to +betray her refuge. He heard the Count's laugh, and the sound of it was +fuel to his anger. But Francesco only thought of the splendid daring of +the lady's action. + +"But these men-at-arms that she had with her?" he cried. "For what +purpose so numerous a bodyguard?" + +The captain looked at him a moment. + +"Can you not guess?" he inquired. "Perhaps you do not know the Castle of +Roccaleone." + +"It were odd if I did not know the most impregnable fortress in Italy." + +"Why, then, does it not become clear? She has taken this company for +a garrison, and in Roccaleone she clearly intends to resist in rebel +fashion the wishes of his Highness." + +At that the Count threw back his head, and scared the passers-by with as +hearty a peal of laughter as ever crossed his lips. + +"By the Host!" he gasped, laughter still choking his utterance. "There +is a maid for you! Do you hear what the captain says, Fanfulla? She +means to resist this wedding by armed force if needs be. Now, on my +soul, if Guidobaldo insists upon the union after this, why, then, he has +no heart, no feeling. As I live, she is a kinswoman that such a warlike +prince might well be proud of. Small wonder that they do not fear the +Borgia in Urbino." And he laughed again. But the captain scowled at him, +and Peppe frowned. + +"She is a rebellious jade," quoth the captain sourly. + +"Nay, softly," returned Francesco; for all that he still laughed. "If +you were of knightly rank I'd break a lance with you on that score. As +it is----" he paused, his laughter ceased, and his dark eyes took the +captain's measure in a curious way. "Best leave her uncensured, Ser +Capitano. She is of the house of Rovere, and closely allied to that of +Montefeltro." + +The officer felt the rebuke, and silence reigned between them after +that. + +It was whilst Francesco, Fanfulla and Peppe waited in the ante-chamber +for admittance to the Duke that the jester vented some of the bitterness +he felt at their babbling. The splendid room was thronged with a courtly +crowd. There were magnificent nobles and envoys, dark ecclesiastics +and purple prelates, captains in steel and court officers in silk and +velvet. Yet, heedless of who might hear him, Peppe voiced his rebuke, +and the terms he employed were neither as measured nor as respectful as +the Count's rank dictated. Yet with that fairness of mind that made him +so universally beloved, Francesco offered no resentment to the fool's +reproof. He saw that it was deserved, for it threw upon the matter a +light that was new and more searching. But he presently saw further than +did the fool, and he smiled at the other's scowls. + +"Not so loud Peppe," said he. "You over-estimate the harm. At worst, +we have but anticipated by a little what the Duke must have learnt from +other sources." + +"But it is just that little--the few hours or days--that will do the +mischief," snapped the jester testily, for all that he lowered his +voice. "In a few days Gian Maria will be back. If he were met with the +news that the Lady Valentina were missing, that she had run away with +Romeo Gonzaga--for that, you'll see, will presently be the tale--do you +think he would linger here, or further care to pursue his wooing? Not +he. These alliances that are for State purposes alone, in which the +heart plays no part, demand, at least, that on the lady's side there +shall be a record unblemished by the breath of scandal. His Highness +would have returned him home, and Madonna would have been rid of him." + +"But at a strange price, Peppe," answered Franeesco gravely. "Still," he +added, "I agree that I would have served her purpose better by keeping +silent. But that such an affair will cool the ardour of my cousin I do +not think. You are wrong in placing this among the alliances in which +the heart has no part. On my cousin's side--if all they say be true--the +heart plays a very considerable part indeed. But, for the rest--what +harm have we done?" + +"Time will show," said the hunchback. + +"It will show, then, that I have done no hurt whatever to her +interests. By now she is safe in Roccaleone. What, then, can befall her? +Guidobaldo, no doubt, will repair to her, and across the moat he will +entreat her to be a dutiful niece and to return. She will offer to do +so on condition that he pass her his princely word not to further molest +her with the matter of this marriage. And then?" + +"Well?" growled the fool, "And then? Who shall say what may befall then? +Let us say that his Highness reduces her by force." + +"A siege?" laughed the Count. "Pooh! Where is your wisdom, fool! Do you +think the splendid Guidobaldo is eager to become the sport of Italy, +and go down to posterity as the duke who besieged his niece because she +resisted his ordainings touching the matter of her wedding?" + +"Guidobaldo da Montefeltro can be a violent man upon occasion," the fool +was answering, when the officer who had left them reappeared with the +announcement that his Highness awaited them. + +They found the Prince in a very gloomy mood, and after greeting +Francesco with cool ceremony, he questioned him on the matter of the +company they had met yesternight. These inquiries he conducted with +characteristic dignity, and no more show of concern than if it had been +an affair of a strayed falcon. He thanked Francesco for his information, +and gave orders that the seneschal should place apartments at his and +Fanfulla's disposal for as long as it should please them to grace +his court. With that he dismissed them, bidding the officer remain to +receive his orders. + +"And that," said Francesco to Peppe, as they crossed the ante-chamber +in the wake of a servant, "is the man who would lay siege to his niece's +castle? For once, sir fool, your wisdom is at fault." + +"You do not know the Duke, Excellency," answered the fool. "Beneath that +frozen exterior burns a furnace, and there is no madness he would not +commit." + +But Francesco only laughed as, linking arms with Fanfulla, he passed +down the gallery on his way to the apartments to which the servant was +conducting them. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. GIAN MARIA MAKES A VOW + + +In a measure the events that followed would almost tend to show that +the fool was right. For even if the notion of besieging Valentina and +reducing her by force of arms was not Guidobaldo's own in the first +place, yet he lent a very willing ear to the counsel that they should +thus proceed, when angrily urged two days thereafter by the Duke of +Babbiano. + +Upon hearing the news Gian Maria had abandoned himself to such a licence +of rage as made those about him tremble from the highest to the meanest. +The disappointment of his passion was in itself justification enough for +this; but, in addition, Gian Maria beheld in the flight of Valentina the +frustration of those bold schemes of which had talked so loudly to his +councillors and his mother. It was his confidence in those same schemes +that had induced him to send that defiant answer to Caesar Borgia. As +a consequence of this there was haste--most desperate haste--that he +should wed, since wedding was to lend him the power to carry out his +brave promises of protecting his crown from the Duke of Valentinois, +not to speak of the utter routing of the Borgia which he had wildly +undertaken to accomplish. + +That the destinies of States should be tossed to the winds of Heaven +by a slip of a girl was to him something as insufferable as it had been +unexpected. + +"She must be brought back!" he had screeched, in his towering passion. +"She must be brought back at once." + +"True!" answered Guidobaldo, in his serene way; "she must be brought +back. So far, I agree with you entirely. Tell me, now, how the thing is +to be accomplished." And there was sarcasm in his voice. + +"What difficulties does it present?" inquired Gian Maria. + +"No difficulties," was the ironical reply. "She has shut herself up in +the stoutest castle in Italy, and tells me that she will not come +forth until I promise her freedom of choice in the matter of marriage. +Clearly, there are no difficulties attached to her being brought back." + +Gian Maria showed his teeth. + +"Do you give me leave to go about it in my own way?" he asked. + +"Not only do I give you leave, but I'll render you all the assistance in +my power, if you can devise a means for luring her from Roccaleone." + +"I hesitate no longer. Your niece, Lord Duke, is a rebel, and as a rebel +is she to be treated. She has garrisoned a castle, and hurled defiance +at the ruler of the land. It is a declaration of war, Highness, and war +we shall have." + +"You would resort to force?" asked Guidobaldo, disapproval lurking in +his voice. + +"To the force of arms, your Highness," answered Gian Maria, with prompt +fierceness. "I will lay siege to this castle of hers, and I shall tear +it stone from stone. Oh, I would have wooed her nicely had she let me, +with gentle words and mincing ways that maidens love. But since +she defies us, I'll woo her with arquebuse and cannon, and seek by +starvation to make her surrender to my suit. My love shall put on armour +to subject her, and I vow to God that I shall not shave my beard until I +am inside her castle." + +Guidobaldo looked grave. + +"I should counsel gentler measures," said he. "Besiege her if you will, +but do not resort to too much violence. Cut off their resources and let +hunger be your advocate. Even so, I fear me, you will be laughed at by +all Italy," he added bluntly. + +"A fig for that! Let the fools laugh if they be minded to. What forces +has she at Roccaleone?" + +At the question Guidobaldo's brow grew dark. It was as if he had +recalled some circumstance that had lain forgotten. + +"Some twenty knaves led by a notorious ruffian of the name of Fortemani. +The company was enrolled, they tell me, by a gentleman of my court, a +kinsman of my Duchess, Messer Romeo Gonzaga." + +"Is he with her now?" gasped Gian Maria. + +"It would seem he is." + +"By the Virgin's Ring of Perugia!" spluttered Gian Maria in increased +dismay. "Do you suggest that they fled together?" + +"My lord!" Guidobaldo's voice rang sharp and threatening. "It is of my +niece that you are speaking. She took this gentleman with her just as +she took three of her ladies and a page or two, to form such attendance +as befits her birth." + +Gian Maria took a turn in the apartment, a frown wrinkling his brow, and +his lips pressed tight. Guidobaldo's proud words by no means convinced +him. But the one preponderating desire in his heart just then was +to humble the girl who had dared to flout him, to make her bend her +stubborn neck. At last: + +"I may indeed become the laughing-stock of Italy," he muttered, in a +concentrated voice, "but I shall carry my resolve through, and my first +act upon entering Roccaleone will be to hang this knave Gonzaga from its +highest turret." + +That very day Gian Maria began his preparations for the expedition +against Roccaleone, and word of it was carried by Fanfulla to +Francesco--for the latter had left his quarters at the palace upon +hearing of Gian Maria's coming, and was now lodging at the sign of the +"Sun." + +Upon hearing the news he swore a mighty oath in which he consigned +his cousin to the devil, by whom, in that moment, he pronounced him +begotten. + +"Do you think," he asked, when he was calmer, "that this man Gonzaga is +her lover?" + +"It is more than I can say," answered Fanfulla. "There is the fact that +she fled with him. Though when I questioned Peppe on this same subject +he first laughed the notion to scorn, and then grew grave. 'She loves +him not, the popinjay,' he said; 'but he loves her, or I am blind else, +and he's a villain, I know.'" + +Francesco stood up, his face mighty serious, and his dark eyes full of +uneasy thought. + +"By the Host! It is a shameful thing," he cried out at last. "This +poor lady so beset on every hand by a parcel of villains, each more +unscrupulous than the other. Fanfulla, send for Peppe. We must despatch +the fool to her with warning of Gian Maria's coming, and warning, too, +against this man of Mantua she has fled with." + +"Too late," answered Fanfulla. "The fool departed this morning for +Roccaleone, to join his patrona." + +Francesco looked his dismay. + +"She will be undone," he groaned. "Thus between the upper and the nether +stone--between Gian Maria and Romeo Gonzaga. Gesů! she will be undone! +And she so brave and so high-spirited!" + +He moved slowly to the casement, and stood staring at the windows across +the street, on which the setting sun fell in a ruddy glow. But it was +not the windows that he saw. It was a scene in the woods at Acquasparta +on that morning after the mountain fight; a man lying wounded in the +bracken, and over him a gentle lady bending with eyes of pity and +solicitude. Often since had his thoughts revisited that scene, sometimes +with a smile, sometimes with a sigh, and sometimes with both at once. + +He turned suddenly upon Fanfulla. "I will go myself," he announced. + +"You?" echoed Fanfulla. "But the Venetians?" + +By a gesture the Count signified how little the Venetians weighed with +him when compared with the fortunes of this lady. + +"I am going to Roccaleone," he insisted, "now--at once." And striding to +the door he beat his hands together and called Lanciotto. + +"You said, Fanfulla, that in these days there are no longer maidens held +in bondage to whom a knight-errant may lend aid. You were at fault, for +in Monna Valentina we have the captive maiden, in my cousin the dragon, +in Gonzaga another, and in me the errant knight who is destined--I +hope--to save her." + +"You will save her from Gian Maria?" questioned Fanfulla incredulously. + +"I will attempt it." + +He turned to his servant, who entered as he spoke. + +"We set out in a quarter of an hour, Lanciotto," said he. "Saddle for me +and for yourself. You are to go with me. Zaccaria may remain with Messer +degli Arcipreti. You will care for him, Fanfulla, and he will serve you +well." + +"But what of me?" cried Fanfulla. "Do I not accompany you?" + +"If you will, yes. But you might serve me better by returning to +Babbiano and watching the events there, sending me word of what +befalls--for great things will befall soon if my cousin returns not and +the Borgia advances. It is upon this that I am founding such hopes as I +have." + +"But whither shall I send you word? To Roccaleone?" + +Francesco reflected a moment. "If you do not hear from me, then send +your news to Roccaleone, for if I should linger there and we are +besieged, it will perhaps be impossible to send a message to you. But +if--as I hope--I go to Aquila, I will send you word of it." + +"To Aquila?" + +"Yes. It may be that I shall be at Aquila before the week is out. But +keep it secret, Fanfulla, and I'll fool these dukes to the very top of +their unhealthy bent." + +A half-hour later the Count of Aquila, mounted on a stout Calabrian +horse, and attended by Lanciotto on a mule, rode gently down towards the +valley. They went unnoticed, for what cared for them the peasants that +sang at their labours in the contado? + +They met a merchant, whose servant was urging his laden sumpters up +the hilly road to the city on the heights, and they passed him with a +courteous greeting. Farther they came upon a mounted company of nobles +and ladies, returning from a hawking party, and followed by attendants +bearing their hooded falcons, and their gay laughter still rang in +Francesco's ears after he had passed from their sight and vanished in +the purple mists of eventide that came up to meet him from the river. + +They turned westward towards the Apennines, and pushed on after night +had fallen, until the fourth hour, when at Francesco's suggestion they +drew rein before a sleepy, wayside locanda, and awoke the host to demand +shelter. There they slept no longer than until matins, so that the grey +light of dawn saw them once more upon their way, and by the time the sun +had struck with its first golden shaft the grey crest of the old hills, +they drew rein on the brink of the roaring torrent at the foot of the +mighty crag that was crowned by the Castle of Roccaleone. + +Grim and gaunt it loomed above the fertile vale, with that torrent +circling it in a natural moat, like a giant sentinel of the Apennines +that were its background. And now the sunlight raced down the slopes of +the old mountains like a tide. It smote the square tower of the keep, +then flowed adown the wall, setting the old grey stone a-gleaming, and +flashing back from a mullioned window placed high up. Lower it came, +revealing grotesque gargoyles, flooding the crenellated battlements and +turning green the ivy and lichen that but a moment back had blackened +the stout, projecting buttresses. Thence it leapt to the ground, and +drove the shadow before it down the grassy slope, until it reached +the stream and sparkled on its foaming, tumbling waters, scattering a +hundred colours through the flying spray. + +And all that time, until the sun had reached him and included him in the +picture it was awakening, the Count of Aquila sat in his saddle, with +thoughtful eyes uplifted to the fortress. + +Then, Lanciotto following him, he walked his horse round the western +side, where the torrent was replaced by a smooth arm of water, for +which a cutting had been made to complete the isolation of the crag of +Roccaleone. But here, where the castle might more easily have become +vulnerable, a blank wall greeted him, broken by no more than a narrow +slit or two midway below the battlements. He rode on towards the +northern side, crossing a footbridge that spanned the river, and at +last coming to a halt before the entrance tower. Here again the moat was +formed by the torrential waters of the mountain stream. + +He bade his servant rouse the inmates, and Lanciotto hallooed in a voice +that nature had made deep and powerful. The echo of it went booming up +to scare the birds on the hillside, but evoked no answer from the silent +castle. + +"They keep a zealous watch," laughed the Count. "Again, Lanciotto." + +The man obeyed him, and again and again his deep voice rang out like a +trumpet-call before sign was made from within that it had been heard. +At length, above the parapet of the tower appeared a stunted figure with +head unkempt, as grotesque almost as any of the gargoyles beneath, and +an owlish face peered at them from one of the crenels of the battlement, +and demanded, in surly, croaking tones their business. Instantly the +Count recognised Peppe. + +"Good morrow, fool," he bade him. + +"You, my lord?" exclaimed the jester. + +"You sleep soundly at Roccaleone," quoth Francesco. "Bestir that knavish +garrison of yours, and bid the lazy dogs let down the bridge. I have +news for Monna Valentina." + +"At once, Excellency," the fool replied, and would have gone upon the +instant but that Francesco recalled him. + +"Say, Peppe, a knight--the knight she met at Acquasparta, if you will. +But leave my name unspoken." + +With the assurance that he would obey his wishes Peppe went his errand. +A slight delay ensued, and then upon the battlements appeared Gonzaga, +sleepy and contentious, attended by a couple of Fortemani's knaves, who +came to ask the nature of Francesco's business. + +"It is with Monna Valentina," answered him Francesco, raising head +and voice, so that Gonzaga recognised him for the wounded knight of +Acquasparta, remembered and scowled. + +"I am Monna Valentina's captain here," he announced, with arrogance. +"And you may deliver to me such messages as you bear." + +There followed a contention, conducted ill-humouredly on the part of +Gonzaga and scarcely less so on the Count's, Francesco stoutly refusing +to communicate his business to any but Valentina, and Gonzaga as stoutly +refusing to disturb the lady at that hour, or to lower the bridge. Words +flew between them across the waters of the moat, and grew hotter at each +fresh exchange, till in the end they were abruptly terminated by the +appearance of Valentina herself, attended by Peppino. + +"What is this, Gonzaga?" she inquired, her manner excited, for the fool +had told her that it was the knight Francesco who sought admittance, +and at the very mention of the name she had flushed, then paled, then +started for the ramparts. "Why is this knight denied admittance since +he bears a message for me?" And from where she stood she sought +with admiring eyes the graceful shape of the Count of Aquila--the +knight-errant of her dreams. Francesco bared his head, and bent to +the withers of his horse in courteous greeting. She turned to Gonzaga +impatiently. + +"For what do you wait?" she cried. "Have you not understood my wishes? +Let the bridge be lowered." + +"Bethink you, Madonna," he remonstrated. "You do not know this man. He +may be a spy of Gian Maria's--a hireling paid to betray us." + +"You fool," she answered sharply. "Do you not see that it is the wounded +knight we met that day you were escorting me to Urbino?" + +"What shall that signify?" demanded he. "Is it proof of his honesty of +purpose or loyalty to you? Be advised, Madonna, and let him deliver his +message from where he is. He is safer there." + +She measured him with a determined eye. + +"Messer Gonzaga, order them to lower the bridge," she bade him. + +"But, lady, bethink you of your peril." + +"Peril?" she echoed. "Peril from two men, and we a garrison of over +twenty? Surely the man is a coward who talks so readily of perils. Have +the drawbridge lowered." + +"But if----" he began, with a desperate vehemence, when again she cut +him short. + +"Am I to be obeyed? Am I mistress, and will you bid them lower the +bridge, or must I, myself, go see to it?" + +With a look of despairing anger and a shrug of the shoulders he turned +from her, and despatched one of his men with an order. A few moments +later, with a creaking of hinges and a clanking of chains, the great +bridge swung down and dropped with a thud to span the gulf. Instantly +the Count spurred his horse forward, and followed by Lanciotto rode +across the plank and under the archway of the entrance tower into the +first courtyard. + +Now, scarcely had he drawn rein there when through a door at the far end +appeared the gigantic figure of Fortemani, half-clad and sword in hand. +At sight of Francesco the fellow leaped down a half-dozen steps, and +advanced towards him with a burst of oaths. + +"To me!" he shouted, in a voice that might have waked the dead. "Olá! +Olá! What devil's work is this? How come you here? By whose orders was +the bridge let down?" + +"By the orders of Monna Valentina's captain," answered Francesco, +wondering what madman might be this. + +"Captain?" cried the other, coming to a standstill and his face turning +purple. "Body of Satan! What captain? I am captain here." + +The Count looked him over in surprise. + +"Why, then," said he, "you are the very man I seek. I congratulate you +on the watch you keep, Messer Capitano. Your castle is so excellently +patrolled that had I been minded for a climb I had scaled your walls and +got within your gates without arousing any of your slumbering sentries." + +Fortemani eyed him with a lowering glance. The prosperity of the past +four days had increased the insolence inherent in the man. + +"Is that your affair?" he growled menacingly. "You are over-bold, sir +stranger, to seek a quarrel with me, and over-pert to tell me how I +shall discharge my captaincy. By the Passion! You shall be punished." + +"Punished--I?" echoed Francesco, on whose brow there now descended a +scowl as black as Ercole's own. + +"Aye, punished, young sir. Ercole Fortemani is my name." + +"I have heard of you," answered the Count contemptuously, "and of how +you belie that name of yours, for they tell me that a more drunken, +cowardly, good-for-nothing rogue is not to be found in Italy--no, not +even in the Pope's dominions. And have a care how you cast the word +'punishment' at your betters, animal. The moat is none so distant, and +the immersion may profit you. For I'll swear you've not been washed +since they baptized you--if, indeed, you be a son of Mother Church at +all." + +"Sangue di Cristo!" spluttered the enraged bully, his face mottled. +"This to me? Come down from that horse." + +He laid hold of Francesco's leg to drag him to the ground, but the Count +wrenched it free by a quick motion that left a gash from his spur upon +the captain's hands. Simultaneously he raised his whip, and would have +laid the lash of it across the broad of Fortemani's back--for it had +angered him beyond words to have a ruffian of this fellow's quality +seeking to ruffle it with him--but at that moment a female voice, stern +and imperative, bade them hold in their quarrel. + +Fortemani fell back nursing his lacerated hand and muttering curses, +whilst Francesco turned in the direction whence that voice had come. +Midway on the flight of stone steps he beheld Valentina, followed +by Gonzaga, Peppe, and a couple of men-at-arms, descending from the +battlements. + +Calm and queenly she stood, dressed in a camorra of grey velvet with +black sleeves, which excellently set off her handsome height. Gonzaga +was leaning forward, speaking into her ear, and for all that his voice +was subdued, some of his words travelled down to Francesco on the still, +morning air. + +"Was I not wise, Madonna, in that I hesitated to admit him? You see what +manner of man he is." + +The blood flamed in Francesco's cheeks, nor did it soften his chagrin to +note the look which Valentina flashed down at him. + +Instantly he leapt to the ground, and flinging his reins to Lanciotto +he went forward to the foot of that stone staircase, his broad hat slung +back upon his shoulders, to meet that descending company. + +"Is this seemly, sir?" she questioned angrily. "Does it become you to +brawl with my garrison the moment you are admitted?" + +The blood rose higher in Francesco's face, and now suffused his temples +and reached his hair. Yet his voice was well restrained as he made +answer: + +"Madonna, this knave was insolent." + +"An insolence that you no doubt provoked," put in Gonzaga, a dimple +showing on his woman's cheek. But the sterner rebuke fell from the lips +of Valentina. + +"Knave?" she questioned, with flushed countenance. "If you would not +have me regret your admittance, Messer Francesco, I pray you curb your +words. Here are no knaves. That, sir, is the captain of my soldiers." + +Francesco bowed submissively, as patient under her reproof as he had +been hasty under Fortemani's. + +"It was on the matter of this captaincy that we fell to words," he +answered, with more humility. "By his own announcement I understood this +nobleman"--and his eyes turned to Gonzaga--"to be your captain." + +"He is the captain of my castle," she informed him. + +"As you see, Ser Francesco," put in Peppe, who had perched himself upon +the balustrade, "we suffer from no lack of captains here. We have also +Fra Domenico, who is captain of our souls and of the kitchen; myself am +captain of----" + +"Devil take you, fool," snapped Gonzaga, thrusting him roughly from his +perch. Then turning abruptly to the Count: "You bear a message for us, +sir?" he questioned loftily. + +Swallowing the cavalier tone, and overlooking the pronoun Gonzaga +employed, Francesco inclined his head again to the lady. + +"I should prefer to deliver it in more privacy than this." And his +eye travelled round the court and up the steps behind, where was now +collected the entire company of Fortemani. Gonzaga sneered and tossed +his golden curls, but Valentina saw naught unreasonable in the request, +and bidding Romeo attend her and Francesco follow, she led the way. + +They crossed the quadrangle, and, mounting the steps down which +Fortemani had dashed to meet the Count, they passed into the +banqueting-hall, which opened directly upon the south side of the +courtyard. The Count, following in her wake, ran the gauntlet of scowls +of the assembled mercenaries. He stalked past them unmoved, taking their +measure as he went, and estimating their true value with the unerring +eye of the practised condottiero who has had to do with the enrolling of +men and the handling of them. So little did he like their looks that on +the threshold of the hall he paused and stayed Gonzaga. + +"I am loath to leave my servant at the mercy of those ruffians, sir. May +I beg that you will warn them against offering him violence?" + +"Ruffians?" cried the lady angrily, before Gonzaga could offer a reply. +"They are my soldiers." + +Again he bowed, and there was a cold politeness in the tones in which he +answered her: + +"I crave your pardon, and I will say no more--unless it be to deplore +that I may not felicitate you on your choice." + +It was Gonzaga's turn to wax angry, for the choice had been his. + +"Your message will have need to be a weighty one, sir, to earn our +patience for your impertinence." + +Francesco returned the look of those blue eyes which vainly sought to +flash ferociously, and he made little attempt to keep his scorn from +showing in his glance. He permitted himself even to shrug his shoulders +a trifle impatiently. + +"Indeed, indeed, I think that I had best begone," he answered +regretfully, "for it is a place whose inmates seem all bent on +quarrelling with me. First your captain Fortemani greets me with an +insolence hard to leave unpunished. You, yourself, Madonna, resent that +I should crave protection for my man against those fellows whose looks +give rise for my solicitation. You are angry that I should dub them +ruffians, as if I had followed the calling of arms these ten years +without acquiring knowledge of the quality of a man however much you may +disguise him. And lastly, to crown all, this cicisbeo"--and he spread a +hand contemptuously towards Gonzaga--"speaks of my impertinences." + +"Madonna," cried Gonzaga, "I beg that you will let me deal with him." + +Unwittingly, unwillingly, Gonzaga saved the situation by that prayer. +The anger that was fast rising in Madonna's heart, stirred by the proud +bearing of the Count, was scattered before the unconscious humour of her +captain's appeal, in such ludicrous contrast was his mincing speech and +slender figure with Francesco's firm tones and lean, active height. +She did not laugh, for that would have been to have spoilt all, but she +looked from one to the other with quiet relish, noting the glance +of surprise and raised eyebrows with which the Count received the +courtier's request to be let deal with him. And thus, being turned +from anger, the balance of her mind was quick to adjust itself, and +she bethought her that perhaps there was reason in what this knight +advanced, and that his reception had lacked the courtesy that was his +due. In a moment, with incomparable grace and skill, she had soothed +Gonzaga's ruffled vanity, and appeased the Count's more sturdy +resentment. + +"And now, Messer Francesco," she concluded, "let us be friends, and let +me hear your business. I beg that you will sit." + +They had passed into the banqueting-hall--a noble apartment, whose walls +were frescoed with hunting and pastoral scenes, one or two of which +were the work of Pisaniello. There were, too, some stray trophies of +the chase, and, here and there, a suit of costly armour that caught the +sunlight pouring through the tall, mullioned windows. At the far end +stood a richly carved screen of cedar, and above this appeared the +twisted railing of the minstrels' gallery. In a tall armchair of +untanned leather, at the head of the capacious board, Monna Valentina +sat herself, Gonzaga taking his stand at her elbow, and Francesco +fronting her, leaning lightly against the table. + +"The news I bear you, lady, is soon told," said the Count. "I would its +quality were better. Your suitor Gian Maria returning to Guidobaldo's +court, eager for the nuptials that were promised him, has learnt of your +flight to Roccaleone and is raising--indeed will have raised by now--an +army to invest and reduce your fortress." + +Gonzaga turned as pale as the vest of white silk that gleamed beneath +his doublet of pearl-coloured velvet at this realisation of the +prophecies he had uttered without believing. A sickly fear possessed +his soul. What fate would they mete out to him who had been the leading +spirit in Valentina's rebellion? He could have groaned aloud at this +miscarriage of all his fine plans. Where now would be the time to talk +of love, to press and carry his suit with Valentina and render himself +her husband? There would be war in the air, and bloody work that made +his skin creep and turn cold to ponder on. And the irony of it all +was keenly cruel. It was the very contingency that he had prophesied, +assured that neither Guidobaldo nor Gian Maria would be so mad as to +court ridicule by engaging upon it. + +For a second Francesco's eyes rested on the courtier's face, and saw the +fear written there for all to read. The shadow of a smile quivered on +his lips as his glance moved on to meet the eyes of Valentina, sparkling +as sparkles frost beneath the sun. + +"Why, let them come!" she exclaimed, almost in exultation. "This ducal +oaf shall find me very ready for him. We are armed at all points. We +have victuals to last us three months, if need be, and we have no lack +of weapons. Let Gian Maria come, and he will find Valentina della Rovere +none so easy to reduce. To you, sir," she continued, with more calm, "to +you on whom I have no claim, I am more than grateful for your chivalrous +act in riding here to warn me." + +Francesco sighed; a look of regret crossed his face. + +"Alas!" he said. "When I rode hither, Madonna, I had hoped to serve you +to a better purpose. I had advice to offer and assistance if you should +need it; but the sight of those men-at-arms of yours makes me fear that +it is not advice upon which it would be wise to act. For the plan I had +in mind, it would be of the first importance that your soldiers should +be trustworthy, and this, I fear me, they are not." + +"Nevertheless," put in Gonzaga feverishly, clinging to a slender hope, +"let us hear it." + +"I beg that you will," said Valentina. + +Thus enjoined, Francesco pondered a moment. + +"Are you acquainted with the politics of Babbiano?" he inquired. + +"I know something of them." + +"I will make the position quite clear to you, Madonna," he rejoined. And +with that he told her of the threatened descent of Caesar Borgia upon +Gian Maria's duchy, and hence, of the little time at her suitor's +disposal; so that if he could but be held in check before the walls of +Roccaleone for a little while, all might be well. "But seeing in +what haste he is," he ended, "his methods are likely to be rough and +desperate, and I had thought that meanwhile you need not remain here, +Madonna." + +"Not remain?" she cried, scorn of the notion in her voice. "Not remain?" +quoth Gonzaga timorously, hope sounding in his. + +"Precisely, Madonna. I would have proposed that you leave Gian Maria +an empty nest, so that even if the castle should fall into his hands he +would gain nothing." + +"You would advise me to fly?" she demanded. + +"I came prepared to do so, but the sight of your men restrains me. They +are not trustworthy, and to save their dirty skins they might throw +Roccaleone open to the besiegers, and thus your flight would be +discovered, while yet there might be time to render it futile." + +Before she could frame an answer there was Gonzaga feverishly urging her +to act upon so wise and timely a suggestion, and seek safety in flight +from a place that Gian Maria would tear stone from stone. His words +pattered quickly and piteously in entreaty, till in the end, facing him +squarely: + +"Are you afraid, Gonzaga?" she asked him. + +"I am--afraid for you, Madonna," he answered readily. + +"Then let your fears have peace. For whether I stay or whether I go, one +thing is certain: Gian Maria never shall set hands upon me." She turned +again to Francesco. "I see a certain wisdom in the counsel of flight +you would have offered me, no less than in what I take to be your advice +that I should remain. Did I but consult my humour I should stay and +deliver battle when this tyrant shows himself. But prudence, too, must +be consulted, and I will give the matter thought." And now she thanked +him with a generous charm for having come to her with this news and +proffered his assistance, asking what motives brought him. + +"Such motives as must ever impel a knight to serve a lady in distress," +said he, "and perhaps, too, the memory of the charity with which you +tended my wounds that day at Acquasparta." + +For a second their glances met, quivered in the meeting, and fell apart +again, an odd confusion in the breast of each, all of which Gonzaga, +sunk in moody rumination, observed not. To lighten the awkward silence +that was fallen, she asked him how it had transpired so soon that it was +to Roccaleone she had fled. + +"Do you not know?" he cried. "Has not Peppe told you?" + +"I have had no speech with him. He but reached the castle, himself, late +last night, and I first saw him this morning when he came to announce +your presence." + +And then, before more could be said, there arose a din of shouting from +without. The door was pushed suddenly open, and Peppe darted into the +room. + +"Your man, Ser Francesco," he cried, his face white with excitement. +"Come quickly, or they will kill him." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. FORTEMANI DRINKS WATER + + +The thing had begun with the lowering glances that Francesco had +observed, and had grown to gibes and insults after he had disappeared. +But Lanciotto had preserved an unruffled front, being a man schooled in +the Count of Aquila's service to silence and a wondrous patience. This +insensibility those hinds translated into cowardice, and emboldened +by it--like the mongrels that they were--their offensiveness grew more +direct and gradually more threatening. Lanciotto's patience was slowly +oozing away, and indeed, it was no longer anything but the fear of +provoking his master's anger that restrained him. At length one burly +ruffian, who had bidden him remove his head-piece in the company of +gentlemen, and whose request had been by Lanciotto as disregarded as +the rest, advanced menacingly towards him and caught him by the leg, as +Ercole had caught his master. Exasperated at that, Lanciotto had swung +his leg free, and caught the rash fellow a vicious kick in the face that +had felled him, stunned and bleeding. + +The roar from the man's companions told Lanciotto what to expect. In an +instant they were upon him, clamouring for his blood. He sought to draw +his master's sword, which together with the Count's other armour was +slung across his saddle-bow; but before he could extricate it, he was +seized by a dozen hands, and cropped, fighting, from the saddle. On the +ground they overpowered him, and a mailed hand was set upon his mouth, +crushing back into his throat the cry for help he would have raised. + +On the west side of the courtyard a fountain issuing from the wall +had once poured its water through a lion's head into a vast tank of +moss-grown granite. But it had been disused for some time, and the pipe +in the lion's mouth was dry. The tank, however, was more than half full +of water, which, during the late untenanting of the castle, had turned +foul and stagnant. To drown Lanciotto in this was the amiable suggestion +that emanated from Fortemani himself--a suggestion uproariously received +by his knaves, who set themselves to act upon it. They roughly dragged +the bleeding and frantically struggling Lanciotto across the yard and +gained the border of the tank, intending fully to sink him into it and +hold him under, to drown there like a rat. + +But in that instant a something burst upon him like a bolt from out of +Heaven. In one or two, and presently in more, the cruel laughter turned +to sudden howls of pain as a lash of bullock-hide caught them about head +and face and shoulders. + +"Back there, you beasts, you animals, back!" roared a voice of thunder, +and back they went unquestioning before that pitiless lash, like the +pack of craven hounds they were. + +It was Francesco, who, single-handed, and armed with no more than a +whip, was scattering them from about his maltreated servant, as the hawk +scatters a flight of noisy sparrows. And now between him and Lanciotto +there stood no more than the broad bulk of Ercole Fortemani, his back to +the Count; for, as yet, he had not realised the interruption. + +Francesco dropped his whip, and setting one hand at the captain's +girdle, and the other at his dirty neck, he hoisted him up with a +strength incredible, and hurled him from his path and into the slimy +water of the tank. + +There was a mighty roar drowned in a mightier splash as Fortemani, +spread-eagle, struck the surface and sank from sight, whilst with the +flying spray there came a fetid odour to tell of the unsavouriness of +that unexpected bath. + +Without pausing to see the completion of his work, Francesco stooped +over his prostrate servant. + +"Have the beasts hurt you, Lanciotto?" he questioned. But before the +fellow could reply, one of those hinds had sprung upon the stooping +Count, and struck him with a dagger between the shoulder-blades. + +A woman's alarmed cry rang out, for Valentina was watching the affray +from the steps of the hall, with Gonzaga at her elbow. + +But Francesco's quilted brigandine had stood the test of steel, and the +point of that assassin's dagger glanced harmlessly aside, doing no worse +hurt than a rent in the silk surface of the garment. A second later +the fellow found himself caught as in a bond of steel. The dagger was +wrenched from his grasp, and the point of it laid against his breast +even as the Count forced him down upon his knees. + +In a flash was the thing done, yet to the wretched man who saw himself +upon the threshold of Eternity, and who--like a true son of the +Church--had a wholesome fear of hell, it seemed an hour whilst, with +livid cheeks and eyes starting from his head, he waited for that poniard +to sink into his heart, as it was aimed. But not in his heart did the +blow fall. With a sudden snort of angry amusement, the Count pitched the +dagger from him and brought down his clenched fist with a crushing force +into the ruffian's face. The fellow sank unconscious beneath that mighty +blow, and Francesco, regaining the whip that lay almost at his feet, +rose up to confront what others there might be. + +From the tank, standing breast-deep in that stinking water, his head +and face grotesquely masked in a vile green slime of putrid vegetation, +Ercole Fortemani bellowed with horrid blasphemy that he would have his +aggressor's blood, but stirred never a foot to take it. Not that he was +by nature wholly a coward; but inspired by a wholesome fear of the +man who could perform such a miracle of strength, he remained out of +Francesco's reach, well in the middle of that square basin, and lustily +roared orders to his men to tear the fellow to pieces. But his men +had seen enough of the Count's methods, and made no advance upon that +stalwart, dauntless figure that stood waiting for them with a whip +which several had already tasted. Huddled together, more like a flock of +frightened sheep than a body of men of war, they stood near the entrance +tower, the mock of Peppe, who from the stone-gallery above--much to +the amusement of Valentina's ladies and two pert pages that were with +him--applauded in high-flown terms their wondrous valour. + +They stirred at last, but it was at Valentina's bidding. She had +been conferring with Gonzaga, who--giving it for his reason that she, +herself, might need protection--had remained beside her, well out of the +fray. She had been urging him to do something, and at last he had obeyed +her, and moved down the short flight of steps into the court; but so +reluctantly and slowly, that with an exclamation of impatience, she +suddenly brushed past him, herself to do the task she had begged of him. +Past Francesco she went, with a word of such commendation of his valour +and a look of such deep admiration, that the blood sprang, responsive, +to his cheek. She paused with a solicitous inquiry for the now risen but +sorely bruised Lanciotto. She flashed an angry look and an angry command +of silence at the great Ercole, still bellowing from his tank, and then, +within ten paces of his followers, she halted, and with wrathful mien, +and hand outstretched towards their captain, she bade them arrest him. + +That sudden, unexpected order struck dumb the vociferous Fortemani. He +ceased, and gaped at his men, who eyed one another now in doubt; but the +doubt was quickly dispelled by the lady's own words: + +"You will make him prisoner, and conduct him to the guardroom, or I +will have you and him swept out of my castle," she informed them, as +confidently as though she had a hundred men-at-arms to do her bidding on +them. + +A pace or so behind her stood the lily-cheeked Gonzaga, gnawing his lip, +timid and conjecturing. Behind him again loomed the stalwart height +of Francesco del Falco with, at his side, Lanciotto, of mien almost as +resolute as his own. + +That was the full force with which the lady spoke of sweeping them--as +if they had been so much foulness--from Roccaleone, unless they did +her bidding. They were still hesitating, when the Count advanced to +Valentina's side. + +"You have heard the choice our lady gives you," he said sternly. "Let +us know whether you will obey or disobey. This choice that is yours now, +may not be yours again. But if you elect to disobey Madonna, the gate is +behind you, the bridge still down. Get you gone!" + +Furtively, from under lowering brows, Gonzaga darted a look of impotent +malice at the Count. Whatever issue had the affair, this man must not +remain in Roccaleone. He was too strong, too dominant, and he would +render himself master of the place by no other title than that strength +of his and that manner of command which Gonzaga accounted a coarse, +swashbuckling bully's gift, but would have given much to be possessed +of. Of how strong and dominant indeed he was never had Francesco offered +a more signal proof. Those men, bruised and maltreated by him, would +beyond doubt have massed together and made short work of one less +dauntless but when a mighty courage such as his goes hand-in-hand with +the habit of command, such hinds as they can never long withstand it. +They grumbled something among themselves, and one of them at last made +answer: + +"Noble sir, it is our captain that we are bidden to arrest." + +"True; but your captain, like yourselves, is in this lady's pay; and +she, your true, your paramount commander, bids you arrest him." And now, +whilst yet they hesitated, his quick wits flung them the bait that must +prove most attractive. "He has shown himself to-day unfitted for the +command entrusted him and it may become a question, when he has been +judged, of choosing one of you to fill the place he may leave empty." + +Hinds were they in very truth; the scum of the bravi that haunted the +meanest borgo of Urbino. Their hesitation vanished, and such slight +loyalty as they felt towards Ercole was overruled by the prospect of his +position and his pay, should his disgrace become accomplished. + +They called upon him to come forth from his refuge, where he still +stood, dumb and stricken at this sudden turn events had taken. He +sullenly refused to obey the call to yield, until Francesco--who now +assumed command with a readiness that galled Gonzaga more and more--bade +one of them go fetch an arquebuse and shoot the dog. At that he cried +out for mercy, and came wading to the edge of the tank swearing that +if the immersion had not drowned him, it were a miracle but he was +poisoned. + +Thus closed an incident that had worn a mighty ugly look, and it served +to open Valentina's eyes to the true quality of the men Gonzaga had +hired her. Maybe that it opened his own for that amiable lute-thrummer +was green of experience in these matters. She bade Gonzaga care for +Francesco, and called one of the grinning pages from the gallery to be +his esquire. A room was placed at his disposal for the little time that +he might spend at Roccaleone, whilst she debated what her course should +be. + +A bell tolled in the far southern wing of the castle, beyond the second +courtyard, and summoned her to chapel, for there Fra Domenico said Mass +each morning. And so she took her leave of Francesco, saying she +would pray Heaven to direct her to a wise choice, whether to fly from +Roccaleone, or whether to remain and ward off the onslaught of Gian +Maria. + +Francesco, attended by Gonzaga and the page, repaired to a handsome room +under the Lion's Tower, which rose upon the south-eastern angle of the +fortress. His windows overlooked the second, or inner, courtyard, across +which Valentina and her ladies were now speeding on their way to Mass. + +Gonzaga made shift to stifle the resentment that he felt against this +man, in whom he saw an interloper, and strove to treat him with the +courtesy that was his due. He would even have gone the length of +discussing with him the situation--prompted by a certain mistrust, and +cunningly eager to probe the real motive that had brought this stranger +to interest himself in the affairs of Valentina. But Francesco, wearily, +yet with an unimpeachable politeness, staved him off, and requested +that Lanciotto might be sent to attend him. Seeing the futility of +his endeavours, Gonzaga withdrew in increased resentment, but with a +heightened sweetness of smile and profoundness of courtesies. + +He went below to issue orders for the raising of the bridge, and finding +the men singularly meek and tractable after the sharp lesson Francesco +had read them, he vented upon them some of the vast ill-humour that +possessed him. Next he passed on to his own apartments, and there he sat +himself by a window overlooking the castle gardens, with his unpleasant +thoughts for only company. + +But presently his mood lightened and he took courage, for he could +be very brave when peril was remote. It was best, he reflected, that +Valentina should leave Roccaleone. Such was the course he would advise +and urge. Naturally, he would go with her, and so he might advance his +suit as well elsewhere as in that castle. On the other hand, if she +remained, why, so would he, and, after all, what if Gian Maria came? +As Francesco had said, the siege could not be protracted, thanks to the +tangled affairs of Babbiano. Soon Gian Maria would be forced to turn him +homeward, to defend his Duchy. If, then, for a little while they could +hold him in check, all would yet be well. Surely he had been over-quick +to despond. + +He rose and stretched himself with indolent relish, then pushing wide +his casement, he leaned out to breathe the morning air. A soft laugh +escaped him. He had been a fool indeed to plague himself with fears when +he had first heard of Gian Maria's coming. Properly viewed, it became a +service Gian Maria did him--whether they remained, or whether they went. +Love has no stronger promoter than a danger shared, and a week of such +disturbances as Gian Maria was likely to occasion them should do more +to advance his suit than he might hope to achieve in a whole month of +peaceful wooing. Then the memory of Francesco set a wrinkle 'twixt his +brows, and he bethought him how taken Valentina had been with the fellow +when first she had beheld him at Acquasparta, and of how, as she +rode that day, she had seen naught but the dark eyes of this Knight +Francesco. + +"Knight Francesco of what or where?" he muttered to himself. "Bah! A +nameless, homeless adventurer; a swashbuckling bully, reeking of blood +and leather, and fit to drive such a pack as Fortemani's. But with a +lady--what shalt such an oaf attain, how shall he prevail?" He laughed +the incipient jealousy to scorn, and his brow grew clear, for now he was +in an optimistic mood--perhaps a reaction from his recent tremors. +"Yet, by the Host!" he pursued, bethinking him of the amazing boldness +Francesco had shown in the courtyard, "he has the strength of Hercules, +and a way with him that makes him feared and obeyed. Pish!" he laughed +again, as, turning, he unhooked his lute from where it hung upon the +wall. "The by-blow of some condottiero, who blends with his father's +bullying arrogance the peasant soul of his careless mother. And I fear +that such a one as that shall touch the heart of my peerless Valentina? +Why, it is a thought that does her but poor honour." + +And dismissing Francesco from his mind, he sought the strings with his +fingers, and thrummed an accompaniment as he returned to the window, his +voice, wondrous sweet and tender, breaking into a gentle love-song. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. THE MERCY OF FRANCESCO + + +Monna Valentina and her ladies dined at noon in a small chamber opening +from the great hall, and thither were bidden Francesco and Gonzaga. The +company was waited upon by the two pages, whilst Fra Domenico, with +a snow-white apron girt about his portentous waist, brought up the +steaming viands from the kitchen where he had prepared them; for, like +a true conventual, he was something of a master in the confection--and a +very glutton in the consumption--of delectable comestibles. The kitchen +was to him as the shrine of some minor cult, and if his breviary +and beads commanded from him the half of the ecstatic fervour of his +devotions to pot and pan, to cauldron and to spit, then was canonisation +indeed assured him. + +He set before them that day a dinner than which a better no prince +commanded, unless it were the Pope. There were ortolans, shot in the +valley, done with truffles, that made the epicurean Gonzaga roll his +eyes, translated through the medium of his palate into a very paradise +of sensual delight. There was a hare, trapped on the hillside, and +stewed in Malmsey, of a flavour so delicate that Gonzaga was regretting +him his heavy indulgence in the ortolans; there was trout, fresh caught +in the stream below, and a wondrous pasty that turned liquid in the +mouth. To wash down these good things there was stout red wine of Puglia +and more delicate Malvasia, for in his provisioning of the fortress +Gonzaga had contrived that, at least, they should not go thirsty. + +"For a garrison awaiting siege you fare mighty well at Roccaleone," was +Francesco's comment on that excellent repast. + +It was the fool who answered him. He sat out of sight upon the floor, +hunched against the chair of one of Valentina's ladies, who now and +again would toss him down a morsel from her plate, much as she might +have treated a favourite hound. + +"You have the friar to thank for it," said he, in a muffled voice, for +his mouth was crammed with pasty. "Let me be damned when I die, if I +make him not my confessor. The man who can so minister to bodies should +deal amazingly well with souls. Fra Domenico, you shall confess me after +sunset." + +"You need me not," answered the monk, in disdainful wrath. "There is a +beatitude for such as you--'Blessed are the poor in spirit.'" + +"And is there no curse for such as you?" flashed back the fool. "Does it +say nowhere--'Damned are the gross of flesh, the fat and rotund gluttons +who fashion themselves a god of their own bellies'?" + +With his sandalled foot the friar caught the fool a surreptitious kick. + +"Be still, you adder, you bag of venom." + +Fearing worse, the fool gathered himself up. + +"Beware!" he cried shrilly. "Bethink you, friar, that anger is a +cardinal sin. Beware, I say!" + +Fra Domenico checked his upraised hand, and fell to muttering scraps of +Latin, his lids veiling his suddenly downcast eyes. Thus Peppe gained +the door. + +"Say, friar; in my ear, now--Was that a hare you stewed, or an outworn +sandal?" + +"Now, God forgive me," roared the monk, springing towards him. + +"For your cooking? Aye, pray--on your knees." He dodged a blow, ducked, +and doubled back into the room. "A cook, you? Pish! you tun of convent +lard! Your ortolans were burnt, your trout swam in grease, your +pasty----" + +What the pasty may have been the company was not to learn, for Fra +Domenico, crimson of face, had swooped down upon the fool, and would +have caught him but that he dived under the table by Valentina's skirts, +and craved her protection from this gross maniac that held himself a +cook. + +"Now, hold your wrath, father," she said, laughing with the rest. "He +does but plague you. Bear with him for the sake of that beautitude you +cited, which has fired him to reprisals." + +Mollified, but still grumbling threats of a beating to be bestowed on +Peppe when the opportunity should better serve him, the friar turned to +his domestic duties. They rose soon after, and at Gonzaga's suggestion +Valentina paused in the great hall to issue orders that Fortemani be +brought before her for judgment. In a score of ways, since their coming +to Roccaleone, had Ercole been wanting in that respect to which Gonzaga +held himself entitled, and this opportunity he seized with eagerness to +vent his vindictive rancour. + +Valentina begged of Francesco that he, too, would stay, and help them +with his wide experience, a phrase that sent an unpleasant pang through +the heart of Romeo Gonzaga. It was perhaps as much to assert himself +as to gratify his rancour against Fortemani, that, having despatched a +soldier to fetch the prisoner, he turned to suggest curtly that Ercole +should be hanged at once. + +"What boots a trial?" he demanded. "We were all witnesses of his +insubordination, and for that there can be but one punishment. Let the +animal hang!" + +"But the trial is of your own suggestion," she protested. + +"Nay, Madonna. I but suggested judgment. It is since you have begged +Messer Francesco, here, to assist us that I opine you mean to give the +knave a trial." + +"Would you credit this dear Gonzaga with so much bloodthirstiness?" she +asked Francesco. "Do you, sir, share his opinion that the captain should +hang unheard? I fear me you do, for, from what I have seen of them, your +ways do not incline to gentleness." + +Gonzaga smiled, gathering from that sentence how truly she apprised the +coarse nature of this stranger. Francesco's answer surprised them. + +"Nay, I hold Messer Gonzaga's an ill counsel. Show mercy to Fortemani +now, where he expects none, and you will have made a faithful servant of +him. I know his kind." + +"Ser Francesco speaks without the knowledge that we have, Madonna," +was Gonzaga's rude comment. "An example must be made if we would have +respect and orderliness from these men." + +"Then make it an example of mercy," suggested Francesco sweetly. + +"Well, we shall see," was Valentina's answer. "I like your counsel, +Messer Francesco, and yet I see a certain wisdom in Gonzaga's words. +Though in such a case as this I would sooner consort with folly than +have a man's death upon my conscience. But here he comes, and, at least, +we'll give him trial. Maybe he is penitent by now." + +Gonzaga sneered, and took his place on the right of Valentina's chair, +Francesco standing on her left; and in this fashion they disposed +themselves to hold judgment upon the captain of her forces. + +He was brought in between two mailed men-at-arms, his hands pinioned +behind him, his tread heavy as that of a man in fear, his eyes directed +sullenly upon the waiting trio, but sullenest of all upon Francesco, who +had so signally encompassed his discomfiture. Valentina spread a hand +to Gonzaga, and from Gonzaga waved it slightly in the direction of the +Bully. Responsive to that gesture, Gonzaga faced the pinioned captain +truculently. + +"You know your offence, knave," he bawled at him. "Have you aught to +urge that may deter us from hanging you?" + +Fortemani raised his brows a moment in surprise at this ferocity from +one whom he had always deemed a very woman. Then he uttered a laugh of +such contempt that the colour sprang to Gonzaga's cheek. + +"Take him out----" he began furiously, when Valentina interposed, +setting a hand upon his arm. + +"Nay, nay, Gonzaga, your methods are all wrong. Tell him---- Nay, I will +question him myself. Messer Fortemani, you have been guilty of an act of +gross abuse. You and your men were hired for me by Messer Gonzaga, and +to you was given the honourable office of captain over them, that you +might lead them in this service of mine in the ways of duty, submission, +and loyalty. Instead of that, you were the instigator of that outrage +this morning, when murder was almost done upon an inoffensive man who +was my guest. What have you to say?" + +"That I was not the instigator," he answered sullenly. + +"It is all one," she returned, "for at least it was done with your +sanction, and you took a share in that cruel sport, instead of +restraining it, as was clearly your duty. It is upon you, the captain, +that the responsibility rests." + +"Lady," he explained, "they are wild souls, but very true." + +"True to their wildness, maybe," she answered him disdainfully. Then she +proceeded: "You will remember that twice before has Messer Gonzaga had +occasion to admonish you. These last two nights your men have behaved +riotously within my walls. There has been hard drinking, there has been +dicing, and such brawling once or twice as led me to think there would +be throats cut among your ranks. You were warned by Messer Gonzaga to +hold your followers in better leash, and yet to-day, without so much as +drunkenness to excuse them, we have this vile affair, with yourself for +a ringleader in it." + +There followed a pause, during which Ercole stood with bent head like +one who thinks, and Francesco turned his wonder-laden glance upon this +slight girl with the gentle brown eyes which had been so tender and +pitiful. Marvelling at the greatness of her spirit, he grew--all +unconsciously--the more enslaved. + +Gonzaga, all unconcerned in this, eyed Fortemani in expectation of his +answer. + +"Madonna," said the bully at last, "what can you look for from such a +troop as this? Messer Gonzaga cannot have expected me to enlist acolytes +for a business that he told me bordered upon outlawry. Touching their +drunkenness and the trifle of rioting, what soldiers have not these +faults? When they have them not, neither have they merit. The man that +is tame in times of peace is a skulking woman in times of war. For +the rest, whence came the wine they drank? It was of Messer Gonzaga's +providing." + +"You lie, hound!" blazed Gonzaga. "I provided wine for Madonna's table, +not for the men." + +"Yet some found its way to them; which is well. For water on the stomach +makes a man poor-spirited. Where is the sin of a little indulgence, +Madonna?" he went on, turning again to Valentina. "These men of +mine will prove their mettle when it comes to blows. They are dogs +perhaps--but mastiffs every one of them, and would lose a hundred lives +in your service if they had them." + +"Aye, if they had them," put in Gonzaga sourly; "but having no more than +one apiece, they'll not care to spare it." + +"Nay, there you wrong them," cried Fortemani, with heat. "Give them a +leader strong enough to hold them, to encourage and subject them, and +they will go anywhere at his bidding." + +"And there," put in Gonzaga quickly, "you bring us back to the main +issue. Such a leader you have shown us that you are not. You have done +worse. You have been insubordinate when you should not only have been +orderly, but have enforced orderliness in others. And for that, by my +lights, you should be hanged. Waste no more time on him, Madonna," he +concluded, turning to Valentina. "Let the example be made." + +"But, Madonna----" began Fortemani, paling under the tan of his rugged +countenance. + +Gonzaga silenced him. + +"Your words are vain. You have been insubordinate, and for +insubordination there is but one penalty." + +The bully hung his head, deeming himself lost, and lacking the wit to +retort as Francesco unexpectedly retorted for him. + +"Madonna, there your adviser is at fault. The charge against the man is +wrong. There has been no insubordination." + +"How?" she questioned, turning to the Count. "None, say you?" + +"A Solomon is arisen," sneered Gonzaga. Then peevishly; "Waste not words +with him, Madonna," he pursued. "Our business is with Fortemani." + +"But stay, my good Gonzaga. He may be right." + +"Your heart is over-tender," answered Romeo impatiently. But she had +turned from him now, and was begging Francesco to make his meaning +clearer. + +"Had he raised his hand against you, Madonna, or even against Messer +Gonzaga, or had he disobeyed an order given him by either of you, then, +and then only, could there be question of insubordination. But he has +done none of these things. He is guilty of grossly misusing my servant, +it is true, but there is no insubordination in that, since he was under +no promise of loyalty to Lanciotto." + +They stared at him as though his words were words of recondite wisdom +instead of the simple statement of a plain case. Gonzaga crestfallen, +Fortemani with a light of hope and wonder shining in his eyes, and +Madonna with a faint nodding of the head that argued agreement. They +wrangled a while yet, Gonzaga bitter and vindictive and rashly scornful +of both Francesco and Fortemani. But the Count so resolutely held the +ground he had taken that in the end Valentina shrugged her shoulders, +acknowledged herself convinced, and bade Francesco deliver judgment. + +"You are in earnest, Madonna?" quoth Francesco in surprise, whilst a +black scowl disfigured the serenity of Gonzaga's brow. + +"I am indeed. Deal with him as you account best and most just, and it +shall fare with him precisely as you ordain." + +Francesco turned to the men-at-arms. "Unbind him, one of you," he said +shortly. + +"I believe that you are mad," cried Gonzaga, in a frenzy, but his mood +sprang rather from the chagrin of seeing his interloper prevail where he +had failed. "Madonna, do not heed him." + +"I pray you let be, my good Gonzaga," she answered soothingly, and +Gonzaga, ready to faint from spite, obeyed her. + +"Leave him there, and go," was Paolo's next order to the men, and they +departed, leaving the astonished Fortemani standing alone, unbound and +sheepish. + +"Now mark me well, Messer Fortemani," Francesco admonished him. "You +did a cowardly thing, unworthy of the soldier that you would have men +believe you. And for that, I think, the punishment you received at my +hands has been sufficient, in that the indignity to which I submitted +you has shaken your standing with your followers. Go back to them now +and retrieve what you have lost, and see that in the future you are +worthier. Let this be a lesson to you, Messer Fortemani. You have gone +perilously near hanging, and you have had it proved to you that in +moments of peril your men are ready to raise their hands against you. +Why is that? Because you have not sought their respect. You have been +too much a fellow of theirs in their drinking and their brawling, +instead of holding yourself aloof with dignity." + +"Lord, I have learnt my lesson!" answered the cowed bully. + +"Then act upon it. Resume your command, and discipline your men to a +better order. Madonna, here, and Messer Gonzaga will forget this thing. +Is it not so, Madonna? Is it not so, Messer Gonzaga?" + +Swayed by his will and by an intuition that told her that to whatever +end he might be working, he was working wisely, Valentina gave Fortemani +the assurance Francesco begged, and Gonzaga was forced grudgingly to +follow her example. + +Fortemani bowed low, his face pale and his limbs trembling as not even +fear had made them tremble. He advanced towards Valentina, and sinking +on one knee, he humbly kissed the hem of her gown. + +"Your clemency, Madonna, shall give you no regret. I will serve you to +the death, lady, and you, lord." At the last words he raised his eyes +to Francesco's calm face. Then, without so much as a glance at the +disappointed Gonzaga, he rose, and bowing again--a very courtier--he +withdrew. + +The closing of the door was to Gonzaga a signal to break out in a +torrent of bitter reproofs against Francesco, reproofs that were stemmed +midway by Valentina. + +"You are beside yourself, Gonzaga," she exclaimed. "What has been done, +has been done with my sanction. I do not doubt the wisdom of it." + +"Do you not? God send you never may! But that man will know no peace +until he is avenged on us." + +"Messer Gonzaga," returned Francesco, with an incomparable politeness, +"I am an older man than are you, and maybe that I have seen more warring +and more of such men. There is a certain valour lurks in that bully +for all his blustering boastfulness and swagger, and there is, too, a +certain sense of justice. Mercy he has had to-day, and time will show +how right I am in having pardoned him in Madonna's name. I tell you, +sir, that nowhere has Monna Valentina a more faithful servant than he is +now likely to become." + +"I believe you, Messer Francesco. Indeed, I am sure your act was wisdom +itself." + +Gonzaga gnawed his lip. + +"I may be wrong," said he, in grudging acquiescence. "I hope, indeed, I +may be." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. GONZAGA UNMASKS + + +The four great outer walls of Roccaleone stood ranged into a mighty +square, of which the castle proper occupied but half. The other half, +running from north to south, was a stretch of garden, broken into three +terraces. The highest of these was no more than a narrow alley under +the southern wall, roofed from end to end by a trellis of vines on beams +blackened with age, supported by uprights of granite, square and roughly +hewn. + +A steep flight of granite steps, weedy in the interstices of the old +stone, and terminating in a pair of couchant lions at the base, led down +to the middle terrace, which was called the upper garden. This was split +in twain by a very gallery of gigantic box trees running down towards +the lower terrace, and bearing eloquent witness to the age of that old +garden. Into this gallery no sun ever penetrated by more than a furtive +ray, and on the hottest day in summer a grateful cool dwelt in its green +gloom. Rose gardens spread on either side of it, but neglect of late had +left them rank with weeds. + +The third and lowest of these terraces, which was longer and broader +than either of those above, was no more than a smooth stretch of lawn, +bordered by acacias and plane trees, from the extreme corner of which +sprang a winding, iron-railed staircase of stone, leading to an eerie +which corresponded diagonally with the Lion's Tower, where the Count of +Aquila was lodged. + +On this green lawn Valentina's ladies and a page beguiled the eventide +in a game of bowls, their clumsiness at the unwonted pastime provoking +the good-humoured banter of Peppe, who looked on, and their own still +better-humoured laughter. + +Fortemani, too, was there, brazening out the morning's affair, which it +almost seemed he must have forgotten, so self-possessed and mightily at +his ease was he. He was of the kind with whom shame strikes never very +deeply, and he ruffled it gaily there, among the women, rolling his +fierce eyes to ogle them seductively, tossing his gaudy new cloak with +a high-born disdain--gloriously conscious that it would not rend in +the tossing, like the cloaks to which grim Circumstance had lately +accustomed him--and strutting it like any cock upon a dunghill. + +But the lesson he had learnt was not likely to share the same +forgetfulness. Indeed, its fruits were to be observed already in the +more orderly conduct of his men, four of whom, partisan on shoulder, +were doing duty on the walls of the castle. They had greeted his return +amongst them with sneers and derisive allusions to his immersion, but +with a few choicely-aimed blows he had cuffed the noisiest into silence +and a more subservient humour. He had spoken to them in a rasping, +truculent tone, issuing orders that he meant should be obeyed, unless +the disobeyer were eager for a reckoning with him. + +Indeed, he was an altered man, and when that night his followers, having +drunk what he accounted enough for their good, and disregarding his +orders that they should desist and get them to bed, he went in quest +of Monna Valentina. He found her in conversation with Francesco and +Gonzaga, seated in the loggia of the dining-room. They had been there +since supper, discussing the wisdom of going or remaining, of fleeing +or standing firm to receive Gian Maria. Their conference was interrupted +now by Ercole with his complaint. + +She despatched Gonzaga to quell the men, a course that Fortemani +treated to a covert sneer. The fop went rejoicing at this proof that +her estimate of his commanding qualities had nowise suffered by contrast +with those of that swashbuckling Francesco. But his pride rode him to a +bitter fall. + +They made a mock of his remonstrances, and when he emulated Francesco's +methods, addressing them with sharp ferocity, and dubbing them beasts +and swine, they caught the false ring of his fierceness, which was +as unlike the true as the ring of lead is unlike that of silver. They +jeered him insults, they mimicked his tenor voice, which excitement +had rendered shrill, and they bade him go thrum a lute for his lady's +delectation, and leave men's work to men. + +His anger rose, and they lost patience; and from showing their teeth +in laughter, they began to show them in snarls. At this his ferocity +deserted him. Brushing past Fortemani, who stood cold and contemptuous +by the doorway, watching the failure he had expected, he returned with +burning cheeks and bitter words to Madonna Valentina. + +She was dismayed at the tale he bore her, magnified to cover his own +shame. Francesco sat quietly drumming on the sill, his eyes upon the +moonlit garden below, and never by word or sign suggesting that he might +succeed where Romeo had failed. At last she turned to him. + +"Could you----?" she began, and stopped, her eyes wandering back to +Gonzaga, loath to further wound a pride that was very sore already. On +the instant Francesco rose. + +"I might try, Madonna," he said quietly, "although Messer Gonzaga's +failure gives me little hope. And yet, it may be that he has taken the +keen edge from their assurance, and that, thus, an easier task awaits +me. I will try, Madonna." And with that he went. + +"He will succeed, Gonzaga," she said, after he had gone. "He is a man of +war, and knows the words to which these fellows have no answer." + +"I wish him well of his errand," sneered Gonzaga, his pretty face white +now with sullenness. "And I'll wager you he fails." + +But Valentina disdained the offer whose rashness was more than +proven when, at the end of some ten minutes, Francesco re-entered, as +imperturbable as when he went. + +"They are quiet now, Madonna," he announced. + +She looked at him questioningly. "How did you accomplish it?" she +inquired. + +"I had a little difficulty," he said, "yet not over-much." His eye roved +to Gonzaga, and he smiled. "Messer Gonzaga is too gentle with them. Too +true a courtier to avail himself of the brutality that is necessary +when we deal with brutes. You should not disdain to use your hands upon +them," he admonished the fop in all seriousness, and without a trace of +irony. Nor did Gonzaga suspect any. + +"I, soil my hands on that vermin?" he cried, in a voice of horror. "I +would die sooner." + +"Or else soon after," squeaked Peppe, who had entered unobserved. +"Patrona mia, you should have seen this paladin," he continued, coming +forward. "Why, Orlando was never half so furious as he when he stood +there telling them what manner of dirt they were, and bidding them to +bed ere he drove them with a broomstick." + +"And they went?" she asked. + +"Not at first," said the fool. "They had drunk enough to make them very +brave, and one who was very drunk was so brave as to assault him. But +Ser Francesco fells him with his hands, and calling Fortemani he bids +him have the man dropped in a dungeon to grow sober. Then, without +waiting so much as to see his orders carried out, he stalks away, +assured that no more was needed. Nor was it. They rose up, muttering +a curse or two, maybe--yet not so loud that it might reach the ears of +Fortemani--and got themselves to bed." + +She looked again at Francesco with admiring eyes, and spoke of his +audacity in commending terms. This he belittled; but she persisted. + +"You have seen much warring, sir," she half-asked, halfasserted. + +"Why, yes, Madonna." + +And here the writhing Gonzaga espied his opportunity. + +"I do not call to mind your name, good sir," he purred. + +Francesco half-turned towards him, and for all that his mind was working +with a lightning quickness, his face was indolently calm. To disclose +his true identity he deemed unwise, for all connected with the Sforza +brood must earn mistrust at the hands of Valentina. It was known that +the Count of Aquila stood high in the favour of Gian Maria, and the news +of his sudden fall and banishment could not have reached Guidobaldo's +niece, who had fled before the knowledge of it was in Urbino. His name +would awaken suspicion, and any story of disgrace and banishment might +be accounted the very mask to fit a spy. There was this sleek, venomous +Gonzaga, whom she trusted and relied on, to whisper insidiously into her +ear. + +"My name," he said serenely, "is, as I have told you. Francesco." + +"But you have another?" quoth Valentina, interest prompting the +question. + +"Why, yes, but so closely allied to the first as to be scarce worth +reciting. I am Francesco Franceschi, a wandering knight." + +"And a true one, as I know." She smiled at him so sweetly that Gonzaga +was enraged. + +"I have not heard the name before," he murmured, adding: + +"Your father was----?" + +"A gentleman of Tuscany." + +"But not at Court?" suggested Romeo. + +"Why, yes, at Court." + +Then with a sly insolence that brought the blood to Francesco's cheeks, +though to the chaste mind of Valentina's it meant nothing--"Ah!" he +rejoined. "But then, your mother----?" + +"Was more discriminating, sir, than yours," came the sharp answer, and +from the shadows the fool's smothered burst of laughter added gall to +it. + +Gonzaga rose heavily, drawing a sharp breath, and the two men stabbed +each other with their eyes. Valentina, uncomprehending, looked from one +to the other. + +"Sirs, sirs, what have you said?" she cried. "Why all this war of +looks?" + +"He is over-quick to take offence, Madonna, for an honest man," was +Gonzaga's answer. "Like the snake in the grass, he is very ready with +his sting when we seek to disclose him." + +"For shame, Gonzaga," she cried, now rising too. "What are you saying? +Are you turned witless? Come, sirs, since you are both my friends, be +friends each with the other." + +"Most perfect syllogism!" murmured the fool, unheeded. + +"And you, Messer Francesco, forget his words. He means them not. He is +very hot of fancy, but sweet at heart, this good Gonzaga." + +On the instant the cloud lifted from Francesco's brow. + +"Why, since you ask me," he answered, inclining his head, "if he'll but +say he meant no malice by his words, I will confess as much for mine." + +Gonzaga, cooling, saw that haply he had gone too fast, and was the +readier to make amends. Yet in his bosom he nursed an added store of +poison, a breath of which escaped him as he was leaving Valentina, and +after Francesco had already gone: + +"Madonna," he muttered, "I mistrust that man." + +"Mistrust him? Why?" she asked, frowning despite her faith in the +magnificent Romeo. + +"I know not why; but it is here. I feel it." And with his hand he +touched the region of his heart. "Say that he is no spy, and call me a +fool." + +"Why, I'll do both," she laughed. Then more sternly, added: "Get you to +bed, Gonzaga. Your wits play you false. Peppino, call my ladies." + +In the moment that they were left alone he stepped close up to her, +spurred to madness by the jealous pangs he had that day endured. His +face gleamed white in the candlelight, and in his eyes there was a +lurking fierceness that gave her pause. + +"Have your way, Madonna," he said, in a concentrated voice; "but +to-morrow, whether we go hence, or whether we stay, he remains not with +us." + +She drew herself up to the full of her slender, graceful height, her +eyes on a level with Gonzaga's own. + +"That," she answered, "is as shall be decreed by me or him." + +He breathed sharply, and his voice hardened beyond belief in one usually +so gentle of tone and manner. + +"Be warned, Madonna," he muttered, coming so close that with the +slightest swaying she must touch him, "that if this nameless sbirro +shall ever dare to stand 'twixt you and me, by God and His saints, I'll +kill him! Be warned, I say." + +And the door re-opening at that moment, he fell back, bowed, and +brushing past the entering ladies, gained the threshold. Here someone +tugged at the prodigious foliated sleeves that spread beside him on the +air like the wings of a bird. He turned, and saw Peppino motioning him +to lower his head. + +"A word in your ear, Magnificent. There was a man once went out for wool +that came back shorn." + +Angrily cuffing the fool aside, he was gone. + +Valentina sank down upon her window-seat, in a turmoil of mingled anger +and amazement that paled her cheek and set her bosom heaving. It was the +first hint of his aims respecting her that Gonzaga had ever dared let +fall, and the condition in which it left her boded ill for his ultimate +success. Her anger he could have borne, had he beheld it, for he would +have laid it to the score of the tone he had taken with her. But her +incredulity that he could indeed have dared to mean that which her +senses told her he had meant, would have shown him how hopeless was his +case and how affronted, how outraged in soul she had been left by this +moment of passionate self-revealing. He would have understood then +that in her eyes he never had been, was never like to be, aught but a +servant--and one, hereafter, that, deeming presumptuous, she would keep +at greater distance. + +But he, dreaming little of this as he paced his chamber, smiled at his +thoughts, which flowed with ready optimism. He had been a fool to give +way so soon, perhaps. The season was not yet; the fruit was not ripe +enough for plucking; still, what should it signify that he had given +the tree a slight premonitory shake? A little premature, perhaps, but +it would predispose the fruit to fall. He bethought him of her +never-varying kindness to him, her fond gentleness, and he lacked the +wit to see that this was no more than the natural sweetness that flowed +from her as freely as flows the perfume from the flower--because Nature +has so fashioned it, and not because Messer Gonzaga likes the smell. +Lacking that wit, he went in blissful confidence to bed, and smiled +himself softly to his sleep. + +Away in the room under the Lion's Tower, the Count of Aquila, too, paced +his chamber ere he sought his couch, and in his pacing caught sight +of something that arrested his attention, and provoked a smile. In a +corner, among his harness which Lanciotto had piled there, his shield +threw back the light, displaying the Sforza lion quartered with the +Aquila eagle. + +"Did my sweet Gonzaga get a glimpse of that he would have no further +need to pry into my parentage," he mused. And dragging the escutcheon +from amongst that heap of armour, he softly opened his window and flung +it far out, so that it dropped with a splash into the moat. That done, +he went to bed, and he, too, fell asleep with a smile upon his lips, +and in his mind a floating vision of Valentina. She needed a strong and +ready hand to guide her in this rebellion against the love-at-arms of +Gian Maria, and that hand he swore should be his, unless she scorned +the offer of it. And so, murmuring her name with a lingering fervour, of +whose true significance he was all-nescient, he sank to sleep, nor +waked again until a thundering at his door aroused him. And to his still +dormant senses came the voice of Lanciotto, laden with hurry and alarm. + +"Awake, lord! Up, afoot! We are beset." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. THE ENEMY + + +The Count leapt from his bed, and hastened to throw wide the door to +admit his servant, who with excited face and voice bore him the news +that Gian Maria had reached Roccaleone in the night, and was now +encamped in the plain before the castle. + +He was still at his tale when a page came with the message that Monna +Valentina besought Messer Francesco's presence in the great hall. +He dressed in all haste, and then, with Lanciotto at his heels, he +descended to answer her summons. As he crossed the second courtyard +he beheld Valentina's ladies grouped upon the chapel-steps in excited +discussion of this happening with Fra Domenico, who, in full canonicals, +was waiting to say the morning's Mass. He gave them a courteous "Good +morrow," and passed on to the banqueting-hall, leaving Lanciotto +without. + +Here he found Valentina in conference with Fortemani. She was pacing +the great room as she talked; but, beyond that, there was no sign of +excitement in her bearing, and if any fear of the issue touched her +heart now that the moment for action was at hand, it was wondrously +well-suppressed. At sight of Francesco, a look that was partly dismay +and partly pleasure lighted her face. She greeted him with such a smile +as she would bestow in that hour upon none but a trusted friend. Then, +with a look of regret: + +"I am beyond measure grieved, sir, that you should thus stand committed +to my fortunes. They will have told you that already we are besieged, +and so you will see how your fate is now bound up with ours. For I fear +me there is no road hence for you until Gian Maria raises this siege. +The choice of going or remaining is no longer mine. We must remain, and +fight this battle out." + +"At least, lady," he answered readily, gaily almost, "I cannot share +your regrets for me. The act of yours may be a madness, Madonna, but it +is the bravest, sweetest madness that ever was, and I shall be proud to +play my part if you'll assign me one." + +"But, sir, I have no claim upon you!" + +"The claim that every beset lady has upon a true knight," he assured +her. "I could ask no better employment for these arms of mine than in +your defence against the Duke of Babbiano. I am at your service, and +with a glad heart, Monna Valentina. I have seen something of war, and +you may find me useful." + +"Make him Provost of Roccaleone, Madonna," urged Fortemani, whose +gratitude to the man who had saved his life was blent with an admiring +appreciation of his powers, of which the bully had had such practical +experience. + +"You hear what Ercole says?" she cried, turning to Francesco with a +sudden eagerness that showed how welcome that suggestion was. + +"It were too great an honour," he answered solemnly. "Yet, if you were +to place in my hands that trust, I would defend it to my last breath." + +And then, before she could answer him, Gonzaga entered by the side-door, +and frowned to see Francesco there before him. He was a trifle pale, +he carried his cloak on the right shoulder, instead of the left, and in +general his apparel was less meticulous than usual, and showed signs of +hasty donning. With a curt nod to the Count, and an utter ignoring of +Fortemani--who was scowling upon him in memory of yesterday--he bowed +low before Valentina. + +"I am distraught, Madonna----" he began, when she cut him short. + +"You have little cause to be. Have things fallen out other than we +expected?" + +"Perhaps not. Yet I had hoped that Gian Maria would not allow his humour +to carry him so far." + +"You had hoped that--after the message Messer Francesco brought us?" +And she looked him over with an eye of sudden understanding. "Yet you +expressed no such hope when you advised this flight to Roccaleone. You +were all for fighting then. A martial ardour consumed you. Whence this +change? Is it the imminence of danger that gives it a reality too grim +for your appetite?" + +There was a scorn in her words that wounded him as she meant it should. +His last night's rashness had shown her the need to leave him in no +false opinion of the extent of her esteem, and, in addition, those last +words of his had shown him revealed in a new light, and she liked him +the less by it. + +He inclined his head slightly, shame blazing red in his cheeks, that +he should be thus reproved before Fortemani and that upstart Francesco. +That Francesco was an upstart was no longer a matter of surmise with +him. His soul assured him of it. + +"Madonna," he said, with some show of dignity, ignoring her gibes, "I +came to bear you news that a herald from Gian Maria craves a hearing. +Shall I hold parley with him for you?" + +"You are too good," she answered sweetly. "I will hear the man myself." + +He bowed submissively, and then his eye moved to Francesco. + +"We might arrange with him for the safe-conduct of this gentleman," he +suggested. + +"There is no hope they would accord it," she answered easily. "Nor could +I hope so if they would, for Messer Francesco has consented to fill +the office of Provost of Roccaleone. But we are keeping the messenger +waiting. Sirs, will you attend me to the ramparts?" + +They bowed, and followed her, Gonzaga coming last, his tread heavy as a +drunkard's, his face white to the lips in the bitter rage with which he +saw himself superseded, and read his answer to the hot words that last +night he had whispered in Valentina's ear. + +As they crossed the courtyard Francesco discharged the first act of his +new office in ordering a half-dozen men-at-arms to fall in behind them, +to the end that they might make some show upon the wall when they came +to parley with the herald. + +They found a tall man on a tall, grey horse, whose polished helm shone +like silver in the morning sun, and whose haubergeon was almost hidden +under a crimson tabard ornamented with the Sforza lion. He bowed low as +Valentina appeared, followed by her escort, foremost in which stood the +Count of Aquila, his broad castor pulled down upon his brow, so that it +left his face in shadow. + +"In the name of my master, the High and Mighty Lord Gian Maria Sforza, +Duke of Babbiano, I call upon you to yield, lady, laying down your arms +and throwing open your gates." + +There followed a pause, at the end of which she asked him was that the +sum of his message, or was there something that he had forgotten. +The herald, bowing gracefully upon the arched neck of his caracoling +palfrey, answered her that what he had said was all he had been bidden +say. + +She turned with a bewildered and rather helpless look to those behind +her. She wished that the matter might be conducted with due dignity, +and her convent rearing left her in doubt of how this might best be +achieved. She addressed herself to Francesco. + +"Will you give him his answer, my Lord Provost," she said, with a +smile, and Francesco, stepping forward and leaning on a merlon of that +embattled wall, obeyed her. + +"Sir Herald," he said, in a gruff voice that was unlike his own, "will +you tell me since when has the Duke of Babbiano been at war with +Urbino that he should thus beset one of its fortresses, and demand the +surrender of it?" + +"His Highness," replied the herald, "is acting with the full sanction of +the Duke of Urbino in sending this message to the Lady Valentina della +Rovere." + +At that Valentina elbowed the Count aside, and forgetting her purpose of +conducting this affair with dignity, she let her woman's tongue deliver +the answer of her heart. + +"This message, sir, and the presence here of your master, is but another +of the impertinences that I have suffered at his hands, and it is the +crowning one. Take you that message back to him, and tell him that when +I am instructed by what right he dares to send you upon such an errand, +I may render him an answer more germane with his challenge." + +"Would you prefer, Madonna, that his Highness should come himself to +speak with you?" + +"There is nothing I should prefer less. Already has necessity compelled +me to have more to say to Gian Maria than I could have wished." And +with a proud gesture she signified that the audience was at an end, and +turned to quit the wall. + +She had a brief conference with Francesco, during which he consulted her +as to certain measures of defence to be taken, and made suggestions, +to all of which she agreed, her hopes rising fast to see that here, at +least, she had a man with knowledge of the work to which he had set his +hand. It lightened her heart and gave her a glad confidence to look on +that straight, martial figure, the hand so familiarly resting on the +hilt of the sword that seemed a part of him, and the eyes so calm; +whilst when he spoke of perils, they seemed to dwindle 'neath the +disdain of them so manifest in his tone. + +With Fortemani at his heels he went about the execution of the measures +he had suggested, the bully following him now with the faithful wonder +of a dog for its master, realising that here, indeed, was a soldier of +fortune by comparison with whom the likes of himself were no better than +camp-followers. Confidence, too, did Ercole gather from that magnetism +of Francesco's unfaltering confidence; for he seemed to treat the matter +as a great jest, a comedy played for the Duke of Babbiano and at +that same Duke's expense. And just as Francesco's brisk tone breathed +confidence into Fortemani and Valentina, so, too, did it breathe it into +Fortemani's wretched followers. They grew zestful in the reflection of +his zest, and out of admiration for him they came to admire the business +on which they were engaged, and, finally, to take a pride in the part he +assigned to each of them. Within an hour there was such diligent +bustle in Roccaleone, such an air of grim gaiety and high spirits, that +Valentina, observing it, wondered what manner of magician was this she +had raised to the command of her fortress, who in so little time could +work so marvellous a change in the demeanour of her garrison. + +Once only did Francesco's light-heartedness fail him, and this was when, +upon visiting the armoury, he found but one single cask of gunpowder +stored there. He turned to Fortemani to inquire where Gonzaga had +bestowed it, and Fortemani being as ignorant as himself upon the subject +he went forthwith in quest of Gonzaga. After ransacking the castle +for him, he found him pacing the vine-alley in the garden in animated +conversation with Valentina. At his approach the courtier's manner grew +more subdued, and his brows sullen. + +"Messer Gonzaga," Francesco hailed him. The courtier, surprised, looked +up. "Where have you hidden your store of powder?" + +"Powder?" faltered Gonzaga, chilled by a sudden apprehension. "Is there +none in the armoury?" + +"Yes--one small cask, enough to load a cannon once or twice, leaving us +nothing for our hand-guns. Is that your store?" + +"If that is all there is in the armoury, that is all we have." + +Franceseo stood speechless, staring at him, a dull flush creeping into +his cheeks. In that moment of wrath he forgot their positions, and gave +never a thought to the smarting that must be with Gonzaga at the loss of +rank he had suffered since Valentina had appointed a provost. + +"And are these your methods of fortifying Roccaleone?" he asked, in a +voice that cut like a knife. "You have laid in good store of wine, a +flock of sheep, and endless delicacies, sir," he jeered. "Did you expect +to pelt the enemy with these, or did you reckon upon no enemy at all?" + +Now this question touched so closely upon the truth, that it fired in +Gonzaga's bosom an anger that for the moment made a man of him. It was +the last breath that blew into a blaze the smouldering wrath he carried +in his soul. + +His retort came fierce and hot. It was as unmeasured and contemptuous as +Francesco's erst recriminations, and it terminated in a challenge to +the Count to meet him on horse or foot, with sword or lance, and that as +soon as might be. + +But Valentina intervened, and rebuked them both. Yet to Francesco her +rebuke was courteous, and ended in a prayer that he should do the +best with such resources as Roccaleone offered; to Gonzaga it was +contemptuous in the last degree, for Francesco's question--which Gonzaga +had left unanswered--coming at a moment when she was full of suspicions +of Gonzaga, and the ends he had sought to serve in advising her upon a +course which he had since shown himself so utterly unfitted to guide, +had opened wide her eyes. She remembered how strangely moved he had been +upon learning yesterday that Gian Maria was marching upon Roccaleone, +and how ardently he had advised flight from the fortress--he that had so +bravely talked of holding it against the Duke. + +They were still wrangling there in a most unseemly fashion when a +trumpet-blast reached them from beyond the walls. + +"The herald again," she cried. "Come, Messer Francesco, let us hear what +fresh message he brings." + +She led Francesco away, leaving Gonzaga in the shadow of the vines, +reduced well-nigh to tears in the extremity of his mortification. + +The herald was returned with the announcement that Valentina's answer +left Gian Maria no alternative but to await the arrival of Duke +Guidobaldo, who was then marching to join him. The Duke of Urbino's +presence would be, he thought, ample justification in her eyes for the +challenge Gian Maria had sent, and which he would send again when her +uncle arrived to confirm it. + +Thereafter, the remainder of the day was passed in peace at Roccaleone, +if we except the very hell of unrest that surged in the heart of Romeo +Gonzaga. He sat disregarded at supper that evening, save by Valentina's +ladies and the fool, who occasionally rallied him upon his glumness. +Valentina herself turned her whole attention to the Count, and whilst +Gonzaga--Gonzaga, the poet of burning fancy, the gay songster, the +acknowledged wit, the mirror of courtliness--was silent and +tongue-tied, this ruffling, upstart swashbuckler entertained them with +a sprightliness that won him every heart--always excepting that of Romeo +Gonzaga. + +Francesco made light of the siege in a manner that enlivened every soul +present with relief. He grew merry at the expense of Gian Maria, and +made it very plain that he could have found naught more captivating to +his warlike fancy than this business upon which an accident had embarked +him. He was as full of confidence for the issue as he was full of eager +anticipation of the fray itself. + +Is it wonderful that--never having known any but artificial men; men of +court and ante-chamber; men of dainty ways and mincing, affected tricks +of speech; in short, such men as circumstance ordains shall surround +the great--Monna Valentina's eyes should open very wide, the better to +behold this new pattern of a man, who, whilst clearly a gentleman +of high degree, carried with him an air of the camp rather than the +camerion, was imbued by a spirit of chivalry and adventure, and ignored +with a certain lofty dignity, as if beneath his observance, the poses +that she was wont to see characterising the demeanour of the gentlemen +of his Highness, her uncle. + +He was young, moreover, yet no longer callow; comely, yet with a strong +male comeliness; he had a pleasantly modulated voice, yet one that +they had heard swell into a compelling note of command; he had the most +joyous, careless laugh in all the world--such a laugh as endears a man +to all that hear it--and he indulged it without stint. + +Gonzaga sat glum and moody, his heart bursting with the resentment of +the mean and the incompetent for the man of brilliant parts. But the +morrow was to bring him worse. + +The Duke of Urbino arrived next morning, and rode up to the moat in +person, attended only by a trumpeter, who, for the third time, wound a +note of challenge to the fortress. + +As on the previous day, Valentina answered the summons, attended by +Francesco, Fortemani and Gonzaga--the latter uninvited yet not denied, +and following sullenly in her train, in a last, despairing attempt to +assert himself one of her captains. + +Francesco had put on his harness, and came arrayed from head to foot +in resplendent steel, to do worthy honour to the occasion. A bunch of +plumes nodded in his helm, and for all that his beaver was open, yet +the shadows of the head-piece afforded at the distance sufficient +concealment to his features. + +The sight of her uncle left Valentina unmoved. Well-beloved though he +was of his people, between himself and his niece he had made no effort +ever to establish relations of affection. Less than ever did he now seek +to prevail by the voice of kinship. He came in the panoply of war, as +a prince to a rebel subject, and in precisely such a tone did he greet +her. + +"Monna Valentina," he said--seeming entirely to overlook the +circumstance that she was his kinswoman--"deeply though this rebellion +grieves me, you are not to think that your sex shall gain you any +privileges or any clemency. We will treat you precisely as we would any +other rebel subject who acted as you have done." + +"Highness," she replied, "I solicit no privilege beyond that to which my +sex gives me the absolute right, and which has no concern with war and +arms. I allude to the privilege of disposing of myself, my hand and +heart, as it shall please me. Until you come to recognise that I am a +woman endowed with a woman's nature, and until, having realised it, you +are prepared to submit to it, and pass me your princely word to urge the +Duke of Babbiano's suit no further with me, here will I stay in spite +of you, your men-at-arms, and your paltry ally, Gian Maria, who imagines +that love may be made successfully in armour, and that a way to a +woman's heart is to be opened with cannon-shot." + +"I think we shall bring you to a more subjective and dutiful frame of +mind, Madonna," was the grim answer. + +"Dutiful to whom?" + +"To the State, a princess of which you have had the honour to be born." + +"And what of my duty to myself, to my heart, and to my womanhood? Is no +account to be taken of that?" + +"These are matters, Madonna, that are not to be discussed in shouts from +the walls of a castle--nor, indeed, do I wish to discuss them anywhere. +I am here to summon you to surrender. If you resist us, you do so at +your peril." + +"Then at my peril I will resist you--gladly. I defy you. Do your worst +against me, disgrace your manhood and the very name of chivalry by +whatsoever violence may occur to you, yet I promise you that Valentina +della Rovere never shall become the wife of his Highness of Babbiano." + +"You refuse to open your gates?" he returned, in a voice that shook with +anger. + +"Utterly and finally." + +"And you think to persist in this?" + +"As long as I have life." + +The Prince laughed sardonically. + +"I wash my hands of the affair and of its consequences," he answered +grimly. "I leave it in the care of your future husband, Gian Maria +Sforza, and if, in his very natural eagerness for the nuptials, he uses +your castle roughly, the blame of it must rest with you. But what he +does, he does with my full sanction, and I have come hither to advise +you of it since you appeared in doubt. I beg that you will remain there +for a few moments, to hear what his Highness himself may have to say. I +trust his eloquence may prove more persuasive." + +He saluted ceremoniously, and, wheeling his horse about, he rode away. +Valentina would have withdrawn, but Francesco urged her to remain, and +await the Duke of Babbiano's coming. And so they paced the battlements, +Valentina in earnest talk with Francesco, Gonzaga following in moody +silence with Fortemani, and devouring them with his eyes. + +From their eminence they surveyed the bustling camp in the plain, +where tents, green, brown, and white, were being hastily erected by +half-stripped soldiers. The little army altogether, may have numbered +a hundred men, which, in his vainglory, Gian Maria accounted all that +would be needed to reduce Roccaleone. But the most formidable portion of +his forces rolled into the field even as they watched. It was heralded +by a hoarse groaning of the wheels of bullock-carts to the number of +ten, on each of which was borne a cannon. Other carts followed with +ammunition and victuals for the men encamped. + +They looked on with interest at the busy scene that was toward, and as +they watched they saw Guidobaldo ride into the heart of the camp, and +dismount. Then from out of a tent more roomy and imposing than the rest +advanced the short, stout figure of Gian Maria, not to be recognised at +that distance save by the keen eyes of Francesco that were familiar with +his shape. + +A groom held a horse for him and assisted him to mount, and then, +attended by the same trumpeter that had escorted Guidobaldo, he rode +forward towards the castle. At the edge of the moat he halted, and at +sight of Valentina and her company, he doffed his feathered hat, and +bowed his straw-coloured head. + +"Monna Valentina," he called, and when she stepped forth in answer, he +raised his little, cruel eyes in a malicious glance and showed the +round moon of his white face to be whiter even, than its wont--a pallor +atrabilious and almost green. + +"I am grieved that his Highness, your uncle, should not have prevailed +with you. Where he has failed, I may have little hope of succeeding--by +the persuasion of words. Yet I would beg you to allow me to have speech +of your captain, whoever he may be." + +"My captains are here in attendance," she answered tranquilly. + +"So! You have a plurality of them; to command--how many men?" + +"Enough," roared Francesco, interposing, his voice sounding hollow +from his helmet, "to blow you and your woman besieging scullions to +perdition." + +The Duke stirred on his horse, and peered up at the speaker. But there +was too little of his face visible for recognition, whilst his voice was +altered and his figure dissembled in its steel casing. + +"Who are you, rogue?" he asked. + +"Rogue in your teeth, be you twenty times a Duke," returned the other, +at which Valentina laughed outright. + +Never from the day when he had uttered his first wail had his Highness +of Babbiano heard words of such import from the lips of living man. A +purple flush mottled his cheeks at the indignity of it. + +"Attend to me, knave!" he bellowed. "Whatever betide the rest of this +misguided garrison when ultimately it falls into my hands, for you I can +promise a rope and a cross-beam." + +"Bah!" sneered the knight. "First catch your bird. Be none so sure that +Roccaleone ever will fall into your hands. While I live you do not enter +here, and my life, Highness, is for me a precious thing, which I'll not +part with lightly." + +Valentina's eyes were mirthless now as she turned them upon that +gleaming, martial figure standing so proudly at her side, and seeming +so well-attuned to the proud defiance he hurled at the princely bully +below. + +"Hush, sir!" she murmured. "Do not anger him further." + +"Aye," groaned Gonzaga, "in God's name say no more, or you'll undo us +hopelessly." + +"Madonna," said the Duke, without further heeding Francesco, "I give you +twenty-four hours in which to resolve upon your action. Yonder you see +them bringing the cannon into camp. When you wake to-morrow you shall +find those guns trained upon your walls. Meanwhile, enough said. May I +speak a word with Messer Gonzaga ere I depart." + +"So that you depart, you may say a word to whom you will," she answered +contemptuously. And, turning aside, she motioned Gonzaga to the crenel +she abandoned. + +"I'll swear that mincing jester is trembling already with the fear of +what is to come," bawled the Duke, "and perhaps fear will show him the +way to reason. Messer Gonzaga!" he called, raising his voice. "As I +believe the men of Roccaleone are in your service, I call upon you to +bid them throw down that drawbridge, and in the name of Guidobaldo as +well as my own, I promise them free pardon and no hurt--saving only that +rascal at your side. But if your knaves resist me, I promise you that +when I shall have dashed Roccaleone stone from stone, not a man of you +all will I spare." + +Shaking like an aspen Gonzaga stood there, his voice palsied and making +no reply, whereupon Francesco leant forward again. + +"We have heard your terms," he answered, "and we are not like to heed +them. Waste not the day in vain threats." + +"Sir, my terms were not for you. I know you not; I addressed you not, +nor will I suffer myself to be addressed by you." + +"Linger there another moment," answered the vibrating voice of +the knight, "and you will find yourself addressed with a volley of +arquebuse-shot. Olá, there!" he commanded, turning and addressing an +imaginary body of men on the lower ramparts of the garden, to his left. +"Arquebusiers to the postern! Blow your matches! Make ready! Now, my +Lord Duke, will you draw off, or must we blow you off?" + +The Duke's reply took the form of a bunch of blasphemous threats of how +he would serve his interlocutor when he came to set hands on him. + +"Present arms!" roared the knight to his imaginary arquebusiers, +whereupon, without another word, the Duke turned his horse and rode +off in disgraceful haste, his trumpeter following hot upon his heels, +pursued by a derisive burst of laughter from Francesco. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. TREACHERY + + +"Sir," gulped Gonzaga, as they were descending from the battlements, +"you will end by having us all hanged. Was that a way to address a +prince?" + +Valentina frowned that he should dare rebuke her knight. But Francesco +only laughed. + +"By St. Paul! How would you have had me address him?" he inquired. +"Would you have had me use cajolery with him--the lout? Would you +have had me plead mercy from him, and beg him, in honeyed words, to be +patient with a wilful lady? Let be, Messer Gonzaga, we shall weather it +yet, never doubt it." + +"Messer Gonzaga's courage seems of a quality that wanes as the need for +it increases," said Valentina. + +"You are confounding courage, Madonna, with foolhardy recklessness," the +courtier returned. "You may learn it to your undoing." + +That Gonzaga was not the only one entertaining this opinion they were +soon to learn, for, as they reached the courtyard a burly, black-browed +ruffian, Cappoccio by name, thrust himself in their path. + +"A word with you, Messer Gonzaga, and you, Ser Ercole." His attitude +was full of truculent insolence, and all paused, Francesco and Valentina +turning from him to the two men whom he addressed, and waiting to hear +what he might have to say to them. "When I accepted service under you, +I was given to understand that I was entering a business that should +entail little risk to my skin. I was told that probably there would be +no fighting, and that if there were, it would be no more than a brush +with the Duke's men. So, too, did you assure my comrades." + +"Did you indeed?" quoth Valentina, intervening, and addressing herself +to Fortemani, to whom Cappoccio's words had been directed. + +"I did, Madonna," answered Ercole. "But I had Messer Gonzaga's word for +it." + +"Did you," she continued, turning to Gonzaga, "permit their engagement +on that understanding?" + +"On some such understanding, yes, Madonna," he was forced to confess. + +She looked at him a moment in amazement. Then: + +"Msser Gonzaga," she said at length, "I think that I begin to know you." + +But Cappoccio, who was nowise interested in the extent of Valentina's +knowledge of the man, broke in impetuously: + +"Now we have heard what has passed between this new Provost here and his +Highness of Babbiano. We have heard the terms that were offered, and +his rejection of them, and I am come to tell you, Ser Ercole, and you, +Messer Gonzaga, that I for one will not remain here to be hanged when +Roccaleone shall fall into the hands of Gian Maria. And there are others +of my comrades who are of the same mind." + +Valentina looked at the rugged, determined features of the man, and +fear for the first time stole into her heart and was reflected on her +countenance. She was half-turning to Gonzaga, to vent upon him some of +the bitterness of her humour--for him she accounted to blame--when once +again Francesco came to the rescue. + +"Now, shame on you, Cappoccio, for a paltry hind! Are these words for +the ears of a besieged and sorely harassed lady, craven?" + +"I am no craven," the man answered hoarsely, his face flushing under the +whip of Francesco's scorn. "Out in the open I will take my chances, and +fight in any cause that pays me. But this is not my trade--this waiting +for the death of a trapped rat." + +Francesco met his eyes steadily for a moment, then glanced at the other +men, to the number of a half-score or so--all, in fact, whom the duties +he had apportioned them did not hold elsewhere. They hung in the rear +of Cappoccio, all ears for what was being said, and their countenances +plainly showing how their feelings were in sympathy with their +spokesman. + +"And you a soldier, Cappoccio?" sneered Francesco. "Shall I tell you +in what Fortemani was wrong when he enlisted you? He was wrong in not +hiring you for scullion duty in the castle kitchen." + +"Sir Knight!" + +"Bah! Do you raise your voice to me? Do you think I am of your kind, +animal, to be affrighted by sounds--however hideous?" + +"I am not affrighted by sounds." + +"Are you not? Why, then, all this ado about a bunch of empty threats +cast at us by the Duke of Babbiano? If you were indeed the soldier you +would have us think you, would you come here and say, 'I will not die +this way, or that'? Confess yourself a boaster when you tell us that you +are ready to die in the open." + +"Nay! That am I not." + +"Then, if you are ready to die out there, why not in here? Shall +it signify aught to him that dies where he gets his dying done? But +reassure yourself, you woman," he added, with a laugh, and in a +voice loud enough to be heard by the others, "you are not going to +die--neither here, nor there." + +"When Roccaleone capitulates----" + +"It will not capitulate," thundered Francesco. + +"Well, then--when it is taken." + +"Nor will it be taken," the Provost insisted, with an assurance that +carried conviction. "If Gian Maria had time unlimited at his command, +he might starve us into submission. But he has not. An enemy is menacing +his own frontiers, and in a few days--a week, at most--he will be forced +to get him hence to defend his crown." + +"The greater reason for him to use stern measures and bombard us as he +threatens," answered Cappoccio shrewdly but rather in the tone of a man +who expects to have his argument disproved. And Francesco, if he could +not disprove it, could at least contradict it. + +"Believe it not," he cried, with a scornful laugh. "I tell you that Gian +Maria will never dare so much. And if he did, are these walls that will +crumble at a few cannon-shots? Assault he might attempt; but I need not +tell a soldier that twenty men who are stout and resolute, as I will +believe you are for all your craven words, could hold so strong a place +as this against the assault of twenty times the men the Duke has with +him. And for the rest, if you think I tell you more than I believe +myself, I ask you to remember how I am included in Gian Maria's threat. +I am but a soldier like you, and such risks as are yours are mine as +well. Do you see any sign of faltering in me, any sign of doubting the +issue, or any fear of a rope that shall touch me no more than it shall +touch you? There, Cappoccio! A less merciful provost would have hanged +you for your words--for they reek of sedition. Yet I have stood and +argued with you, because I cannot spare a brave man such as you +will prove yourself. Let us hear no more of your doubtings. They are +unworthy. Be brave and resolute, and you shall find yourself well +rewarded when the baffled Duke shall be forced to raise this siege." + +He turned without waiting for the reply of Cappoccio--who stood +crestfallen, his cheeks reddened by shame of his threat to get him +hence--and conducted Valentina calmly across the yard and up the steps +of the hall. + +It was his way never to show a doubt that his orders would be obeyed, +yet on this occasion scarce had the door of the hall closed after them +when he turned sharply to the following Ercole. + +"Get you an arquebuse," he said quickly, "and take my man Lanciotto, +with you. Should those dogs still prove mutinous, fire into any that +attempt the gates--fire to kill--and send me word. But above all, +Ercole, do not let them see you or suspect your presence; that were to +undermine such effect as my words may have produced." + +From out of a woefully pale face Valentina raised her brown eyes to his, +in a look that was as a stab to the observing Gonzaga. + +"I needed a man here," she said, "and I think that Heaven it must have +been that sent you to my aid. But do you think," she asked, and with her +eyes she closely scanned his face for any sign of doubt, "that they are +pacified?" + +"I am assured of it, Madonna. Come, there are signs of tears in your +eyes, and--by my soul!--there is naught to weep at." + +"I am but a woman, after all," she smiled up at him, "and so, subject to +a woman's weakness. It seemed as if the end were indeed come just now. +It had come, but for you. If they should mutiny----" + +"They shall not, while I am here," he answered, with a cheering +confidence. And she, full of faith in this true knight of hers, went to +seek her ladies, and to soothe in her turn any alarm to which they might +have fallen a prey. + +Francesco went to disarm, and Gonzaga to take the air upon the ramparts, +his heart a very bag of gall. His hatred for the interloper was as +nothing now to his rage against Valentina, a rage that had its birth +in a wondering uncomprehension of how she should prefer that coarse, +swashbuckling bully to himself, the peerless Gonzaga. And as he walked +there, under the noontide sky, the memory of Francesco's assurance that +the men would not mutiny returned to him, and he caught himself most +ardently desiring that they might, if only to bear it home to Valentina +how misplaced was her trust, how foolish her belief in that loud +boaster. He thought next--and with increasing bitterness--of his own +brave schemes, of his love for Valentina, and of how assured he had +been that his affections were returned, before this ruffler came +amongst them. He laughed in bitter scorn as the thought returned to her +preferring Francesco to himself. Well, it might be so now--now that the +times were warlike, and this Francesco was such a man as shone at his +best in them. But what manner of companion would this sbirro make in +times of peace? Had he the wit, the grace, the beauty even that was +Gonzaga's? Circumstance, it seemed to him, was here to blame, and he +roundly cursed that same Circumstance. In other surroundings, he was +assured that she would not have cast an eye upon Francesco whilst he, +himself, was by; and if he recalled their first meeting at Acquasparta, +it was again to curse Circumstance for having placed the knight in such +case as to appeal to the tenderness that is a part of woman's nature. + +He reflected--assured that he was right--that if Francesco had not come +to Roccaleone, he might by now have been wed to Valentina; and once wed, +he could throw down the bridge and march out of Roccaleone, assured that +Gian Maria would not care to espouse his widow, and no less assured that +Guidobaldo--who was at heart a kind and clement prince--would be content +to let be what was accomplished, since there would be naught gained +beyond his niece's widowhood in hanging Gonzaga. It was the specious +argument that had lured him upon this rash enterprise, the hopes that +he was confident would have fructified but for the interloping of +Francesco. + +He stood looking down at the tented plain, with black rage and black +despair blotting the beauty from the sunlight of that May morning, and +then it came to him that since there was naught to be hoped from his +old plans, might it not be wise to turn his attention to new ones that +would, at least, save him from hanging? For he was assured that whatever +might betide the others, his own fate was sealed, whether Roccaleone +fell or not. It would be remembered against him that the affair was of +his instigating, and from neither Gian Maria nor Guidobaldo might he +look for mercy. + +And now the thought of extricating himself from his desperate peril +turned him cold by its suddenness. He stood very still a moment; then +looked about him as though he feared that some watching spy might read +on him the ugly intention that of a sudden had leapt to life in his +heart. Swiftly it spread, and took more definite shape, the reflection +of it showing now upon his smooth, handsome face, and disfiguring it +beyond belief. He drew away from the wall, and took a turn or two upon +the ramparts, one hand behind him, the other raised to support his +drooping chin. Thus he brooded for a little while. Then, with another of +his furtive glances, he turned to the north-western tower, and entered +the armoury. There he rummaged until he had found the pen, ink and paper +that he sought, and with the door wide open--the better that he might +hear the sound of approaching steps--he set himself feverishly to write. +It was soon done, and he stood up, waving the sheet to dry the ink. Then +he looked it over again, and this is what he had written: + +"I have it in my power to stir the garrison to mutiny and to throw open +the gates of Roccaleone. Thus shall the castle fall immediately into +your hands, and you shall have a proof of how little I am in sympathy +with this rebellion of Monna Valentina's. What terms do you offer me +if I accomplish this? Answer me now, and by the same means as I am +employing, but dispatch not your answer if I show myself upon the +ramparts. + +"ROMEO GONZAGA." + + +He folded the paper, and on the back he wrote the superscription--"To +the High and Mighty Duke of Babbiano." Then opening a large chest that +stood against the wall, he rummaged a moment, and at last withdrew an +arbalest quarrel. About the body of this he tied his note. Next, from +the wall he took down a cross-bow, and from a corner a moulinet for +winding it. With his foot in the stirrup he made the cord taut and set +the shaft in position. + +And now he closed the door, and, going to the window, which was little +more than an arrow-slit, he shouldered his arbalest. He took careful aim +in the direction of the ducal tent, and loosed the quarrel. He watched +its light, and it almost thrilled him with pride in his archery to see +it strike the tent at which he had aimed, and set the canvas shuddering. + +In a moment there was a commotion. Men ran to the spot, others emerged +from the tent, and amongst the latter Gonzaga recognised the figures of +Gian Maria and Guidobaldo. + +The bolt was delivered to the Duke of Babbiano, who, with an upward +glance at the ramparts, vanished into the tent once more. + +Gonzaga moved from his eerie, and set wide the door of the tower, +so that his eyes could range the whole of the sun-bathed ramparts. +Returning to his window, he waited impatiently for the answer. Nor was +his impatience to endure long. At the end of some ten minutes Gian +Maria reappeared, and, summoning an archer to his side, he delivered +him something and made a motion of his hand towards Roccaleone. Gonzaga +moved to the door, and stood listening breathlessly. At the least sign +of an approach, he would have shown himself, and thus, by the provision +made in his letter have cautioned the archer against shooting his bolt. +But all was quiet, and so Gonzaga remained where he was until something +flashed like a bird across his vision, struck sharply against the +posterior wall, and fell with a tinkle on the broad stones of the +rampart. A moment later the answer from Gian Maria was in his hands. + +He swiftly unwound it from the shaft that had brought it, and dropped +the bolt into a corner. Then unfolding the letter, he read it, leaning +against one of the merlons of the wall. + +"If you can devise a means to deliver Roccaleone at once into my +hands you shall earn my gratitude, full pardon for your share in Monna +Valentina's rebellion, and the sum of a thousand gold florins. + +"GIAN MARIA." + + +As he read, a light of joy leapt to his eyes. Gian Maria's terms were +very generous. He would accept them, and Valentina should realise when +too late upon what manner of broken reed she leaned in relying upon +Messer Francesco. Would he save her now, as he so loudly boasted? Would +there indeed be no mutiny, as he so confidently prophesied? Gonzaga +chuckled evilly to himself. She should learn her lesson, and when she +was Gian Maria's wife, she might perhaps repent her of her treatment of +Romeo Gonzaga. + +He laughed softly to himself. Then suddenly he turned cold, and he felt +his skin roughening. A stealthy step sounded behind him. + +He crumpled the Duke's letter in his hand, and in the alarm of the +moment, he dropped it over the wall. Seeking vainly to compose the +features that a chilling fear had now disturbed, he turned to see who +came. + +Behind him stood Peppe, his solemn eyes bent with uncanny intentness +upon Gonzaga's face. + +"You were seeking me?" quoth Romeo, and the quaver in his voice sorted +ill with his arrogance. + +The fool made him a grotesque bow. + +"Monna Valentina desires that you attend her in the garden, +Illustrious." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. PLOT AND COUNTERPLOT + + +Peppe's quick eyes had seen Gonzaga crumple and drop the paper, no less +than he had observed the courtier's startled face, and his suspicions +had been aroused. He was by nature prying, and experience had taught +him that the things men seek to conceal are usually the very things +it imports most to have knowledge of. So when Gonzaga had gone, in +obedience to Valentina's summons, the jester peered carefully over the +battlements. + +At first he saw nothing, and he was concluding with disappointment that +the thing Gonzaga had cast from him was lost in the torrential waters +of the moat. But presently, lodged on a jutting stone, above the foaming +stream into which it would seem that a miracle had prevented it +from falling, he espied a ball of crumpled paper. He observed +with satisfaction that it lay some ten feet immediately below the +postern-gate by the drawbridge. + +Secretly, for it was not Peppy's way to take men into his confidence +where it might be avoided, he got himself a coil of rope. Having +descended and quietly opened the postern, he made one end fast and +lowered the other to the water with extreme care, lest he should +dislodge, and so lose, that paper. + +Assuring himself again that he was unobserved, he went down, hand over +hand, like a monkey, his feet against the rough-hewn granite of the +wall. Then, with a little swinging of the rope, he brought himself +nearer that crumpled ball, his legs now dangling in the angry water, and +by a mighty stretch that all but precipitated him into the torrent, he +seized the paper and transferred it to his teeth. Then hand over hand +again, and with a frantic haste, for he feared observation not only from +the castle sentries but also from the watchers in the besieger's camp, +he climbed back to the postern, exulting in that he had gone unobserved, +and contemptuous for the vigilance of those that should have observed +him. + +Softly he closed the wicket, locked it and shot home the bolts at top +and base, and went to replace the key on its nail in the guard-room, +which he found untenanted. Next, with that mysterious letter in his +hand, he scampered off across the courtyard and through the porch +leading to the domestic quarters, nor paused until he had gained the +kitchen, where Fra Domenico was roasting the quarter of a lamb that +he had that morning butchered. For now that the siege was established, +there was no more fish from the brook, nor hares and ortolans from the +country-side. + +The friar cursed the fool roundly, as was his wont upon every +occasion, for he was none so holy that he disdained the milder forms +of objurgatory oaths. But Peppe for once had no vicious answer ready, a +matter that led the Dominican to ask him was he ill. + +Never heeding him, the fool unfolded and smoothed the crumpled paper in +a corner by the fire. He read it and whistled, then stuffed it into the +bosom of his absurd tunic. + +"What ails you?" quoth the friar. "What have you there?" + +"A recipe for a dish of friar's brains. A most rare delicacy, and +rendered costly by virtue of the scarcity of the ingredients." And with +that answer Peppe was gone, leaving the monk with an ugly look in his +eyes, and an unuttered imprecation on his tongue. + +Straight to the Count of Aquila went the fool with his letter. Francesco +read it, and questioned him closely as to what he knew of the manner in +which it had come into Gonzaga's possession. For the rest, those lines, +far from causing him the uneasiness Peppe expected, seemed a source of +satisfaction and assurance to him. + +"He offers a thousand gold florins," he muttered, "in addition to +Gonzaga's liberty and advancement. Why, then, I have said no more than +was true when I assured the men that Gian Maria was but idly threatening +us with bombardment. Keep this matter secret, Peppe." + +"But you will watch Messer Gonzaga?" quoth the fool. + +"Watch him? Why, where is the need? You do not imagine him so vile that +this offer could tempt him?" + +Peppe looked up, his great, whimsical face screwed into an expression of +cunning doubt. + +"You do not think, lord, that he invited it?" + +"Now, shame on you for that thought. Messer Gonzaga may be an idle +lute-thrummer, a poor-spirited coward; but a traitor----! And to betray +Monna Valentina! No, no." + +But the fool was far from reassured. He had had the longer acquaintance +of Messer Gonzaga, and his shrewd eyes had long since taken the man's +exact measure. Let Francesco scorn the notion of betrayal at Romeo's +hands; Peppe would dog him like a shadow. This he did for the remainder +of that day, clinging to Gonzaga as if he loved him dearly, and +furtively observing the man's demeanour. Yet he saw nothing to confirm +his suspicions beyond a certain preoccupied moodiness on the courtier's +part. + +That night, as they supped, Gonzaga pleaded toothache, and with +Valentina's leave he quitted the table at the very outset of the meal. +Peppe rose to follow him, but as he reached the door, his natural enemy, +the friar--ever anxious to thwart him where he could--caught him by the +nape of the neck, and flung him unceremoniously back into the room. + +"Have you a toothache too, good-for-naught?" quoth the frate. "Stay you +here and help me to wait upon the company." + +"Let me go, good Fra Domenico," the fool whispered, in a voice so +earnest that the monk left his way clear. But Valentina's voice now bade +him stay with them, and so his opportunity was lost. + +He moved about the room a very dispirited, moody fool with no quip for +anyone, for his thoughts were all on Gonzaga and the treason that he +was sure he was hatching. Yet faithful to Francesco, who sat all +unconcerned, and not wishing to alarm Valentina, he choked back the +warning that rose to his lips, seeking to convince himself that his +fears sprang perhaps from an excess of suspicion. Had he known +how well-founded indeed they were he might have practised less +self-restraint. + +For whilst he moved sullenly about the room, assisting Fra Domenico with +the dishes and platters, Gonzaga paced the ramparts beside Cappoccio, +who was on sentry duty on the north wall. + +His business called for no great diplomacy, nor did Gonzaga employ much. +He bluntly told Cappoccio that he and his comrades had allowed Messer +Francesco's glib tongue to befool them that morning, and that the +assurances Francesco had given them were not worthy of an intelligent +man's consideration. + +"I tell you, Cappoccio," he ended, "that to remain here and protract +this hopeless resistance will cost you your life at the unsavoury hands +of the hangman. You see I am frank with you." + +Now for all that what Gonzaga told him might sort excellently well with +the ideas he had himself entertained, Cappoccio was of a suspicious +nature, and his suspicions whispered to him now that Gonzaga was +actuated by some purpose he could not gauge. + +He stood still, and leaning with both hands upon his partisan, he sought +to make out the courtier's features in the dim light of the rising moon. + +"Do you mean," he asked, and in his voice sounded the surprise with +which Gonzaga's odd speech had filled him, "that we are foolish to have +listened to Messer Francesco, and that we should be better advised to +march out of Roccaleone?" + +"Yes; that is what I mean." + +"But why," he insisted, his surprise increasing, "do you urge such a +course upon us?" + +"Because, Cappoccio," was the plausible reply, "like yourselves, I was +lured into this business by insidious misrepresentations. The assurances +that I gave Fortemani, and with which he enrolled you into his service, +were those that had been given to me. I did not bargain with such a +death as awaits us here, and I frankly tell you that I have no stomach +for it." + +"I begin to understand," murmured Cappoccio, sagely wagging his head, +and there was a shrewd insolence in his tone and manner. "When we leave +Roccaleone you come with us?" + +Gonzaga nodded. + +"But why do you not say these things to Fortemani?" questioned +Cappoccio, still doubting. + +"Fortemani!" echoed Gonzaga. "By the Host, no! The man is bewitched +by that plausible rogue, Francesco. Far from resenting the fellow's +treatment of him, he follows and obeys his every word, like the +mean-spirited dog that he is." + +Again Cappoccio sought to scrutinise Gonzaga's face. But the light was +indifferent. + +"Are you dealing with me fairly?" he asked. "Or does some deeper purpose +lie under your wish that we should rebel against the lady?" + +"My friend," answered Gonzaga, "do you but wait until Gian Maria's +herald comes for his answer in the morning. Then you will learn again +the terms on which your lives are offered you. Do nothing until then. +But when you hear yourselves threatened with the rope and the wheel, +bethink you of what course you will be best advised in pursuing. You ask +me what purpose inspires me. I have already told you--for I am as open +as the daylight with you--that I am inspired by the purpose of saving my +own neck. Is not that purpose enough?" + +A laugh of such understanding as would have set a better man on fire +with indignation was the answer he received. + +"Why, yes, it is more than enough. To-morrow, then, my comrades and I +march out of Roccaleone. Count upon that." + +"But do not accept my word. Wait until the herald comes again. Do +nothing until you have heard the terms he brings." + +"Why, no, assuredly not." + +"And do not let it transpire among your fellows that it is I who have +suggested this." + +"Why no. I'll keep your secret," laughed the bravo offensively, +shouldering his partisan and resuming his sentinel's pacing. + +Gonzaga sought his bed. A fierce joy consumed him at having so +consummately planned Valentina's ruin, yet he did not wish to face her +again that night. + +But when on the morrow the herald wound his horn again beneath the +castle walls, Gonzaga was prominent in the little group that attended +Monna Valentina. The Count of Aquila was superintending the work to +which he had set a half-score of men. With a great show, and as much +noise as possible--by which Francesco intended that the herald should be +impressed--they were rolling forward four small culverins and some +three cannons of larger calibre, and planting them so that they made a +menacing show in the crenels of the parapet. + +Whilst watching and directing the men, he kept his ears open for the +message, and he heard the herald again recite the terms on which the +garrison might surrender, and again the threat to hang every man from +the castle-walls if they compelled him to reduce them by force of arms. +He brought his message to an end by announcing that in his extreme +clemency Gian Maria accorded them another half-hour's grace in which to +resolve themselves upon their course. Should the end of that time +still find them obstinate, the bombardment would commence. Such was the +message that in another of his arrow-borne letters Gonzaga had suggested +Gian Maria should send. + +It was Francesco who stepped forward to reply. He had been stooping over +one of the guns, as if to assure himself of the accuracy of its aim, and +as he rose he pronounced himself satisfied in a voice loud enough for +the herald's hearing. Then he advanced to Valentina's side, and whilst +he stood there delivering his answer he never noticed the silent +departure of the men from the wall. + +"You will tell his Highness of Babbiano," he replied, "that he reminds +us of the boy in the fable who cried 'Wolf!' too often. Tell him, sir, +that his threats leave this garrison as unmoved as do his promises. If +so be that he intends in truth to bombard us, let him begin forthwith. +We are ready for him, as you perceive. Maybe he did not suppose us +equipped with cannon; but there they stand. Those guns are trained upon +his camp, and the first shot he fires upon us shall be a signal for +such a reply as he little dreams of. Tell him, too, that we expect no +quarter, and will yield none. We are unwilling for bloodshed, but if he +drives us to it and executes his purpose of employing cannon, then the +consequences be upon his own head. Bear him that answer, and tell him to +send you no more with empty threats." + +The herald bowed upon the withers of his horse. The arrogance, the cold +imperiousness of the message struck him dumb with amazement. Amazement +was his, too, that Roccaleone should be armed with cannon, as with his +own eyes he saw. That those guns were empty he could not guess, nor +could Gian Maria when he heard a message that filled him with rage, and +would have filled him with dismay, but that he counted upon the mutiny +which Gonzaga had pledged himself to stir up. + +As the herald was riding away a gruff laugh broke from Fortemani, who +stood behind the Count. + +Valentina turned to Francesco with eyes that beamed admiration and a +singular tenderness. + +"Oh, what had I done without you, Messer Francesco?" she cried, for +surely the twentieth time since his coming. "I tremble to think how +things had gone without your wit and valour to assist me." She never +noticed the malicious smile that trembled on Gonzaga's pretty face. +"Where did you find the powder?" she asked innocently, for her mind had +not yet caught that humour of the situation that had drawn a laugh from +Fortemani. + +"I found none," answered Francesco, smiling from the shadow of his helm. +"My threats"--and he waved his hand in the direction of that formidable +array of guns--"are as empty as Gian Maria's. Yet I think they will +impress him more than his do us. I will answer for it, Madonna, that +they deter him from bombarding us--if so be that he ever intended to. So +let us go and break our fast with a glad courage." + +"Those guns are empty?" she gasped. "And you could talk so boldly and +threaten so defiantly!" + +Mirth crept now into her face, and thrust back the alarm, a little of +which had peeped from her eyes even as she was extolling Francesco. + +"There!" he cried joyously. "You are smiling now, Madonna. Nor have +you cause for aught else. Shall we descend? This early morning work has +given me the hunger of a wolf." + +She turned to go with him, and in that moment, Peppe, his owlish face +spread over with alarm, dashed up the steps from the courtyard. + +"Madonna!" he gasped, breathless. "Messer Francesco! The +men--Cappoccio---- He is haranguing them. He--is inciting them to +treachery." + +So, in gasps, he got out his tale, which swept the mirth again from +Valentina's eyes, and painted very white her cheek. Strong and brave +though she was, she felt her senses swimming at that sudden revulsion +from confidence to fear. Was all indeed ended at the very moment when +hope had reached its high meridian? + +"You are faint, Madonna; lean on me." + +It was Gonzaga who spoke. But beyond the fact that the words had been +uttered, she realised nothing. She saw an arm advanced, and she took it. +Then she dragged Gonzaga with her to the side overlooking the courtyard, +that with her own eyes she might have evidence of what was toward. + +She heard an oath--a vigorous, wicked oath--from Francesco, followed by +a command, sharp and rasping. + +"To the armoury yonder, Peppe! Fetch me a two-handed sword--the stoutest +you can find. Ercole, come with me. Gonzaga---- Nay, you had best stay +here. See to Monna Valentina." + +He stepped to her side now, and rapidly surveyed the surging scene +below, where Cappoccio was still addressing the men. At sight of +Francesco, they raised a fierce yell, as might a pack of dogs that have +sighted their quarry. + +"To the gates!" was the shout. "Down the drawbridge! We accept the +terms of Gian Maria. We will not die like rats." + +"By God, but you shall, if I so will it!" snarled Francesco through his +set teeth. Then turning his head in a fever of impatience "Peppe," he +shouted, "will you never bring that sword?" + +The fool came up at that moment, staggering under the weight of a great, +double-edged two-hander, equipped with lugs, and measuring a good six +feet from point to pummel. Francesco caught it from him, and bending, he +muttered a swift order in Peppino's ear. + +"...In the box that stands upon the table in my chamber," Gonzaga +overheard him say. "Now go, and bring it to me in the yard. Speed you, +Peppino!" + +A look of understanding flashed up from the hunchback's eyes, and as he +departed at a run Francesco hoisted the mighty sword to his shoulder as +though its weight were that of a feather. In that instant Valentina's +white hand was laid upon the brassart that steeled his fore-arm. + +"What will you do?" she questioned, in a whisper, her eyes dilating with +alarm. + +"Stem the treachery of that rabble," he answered shortly. "Stay you +here, Madonna. Fortemani and I will pacify them--or make an end of +them." And so grimly did he say it that Gonzaga believed it to lie +within his power. + +"But you are mad!" she cried, and the fear in her eyes increased. "What +can you do against twenty?" + +"What God pleases," he answered, and for a second put the ferocity from +his heart that he might smile reassurance. + +"But you will be killed," she cried. "Oh! don't go, don't go! Let them +have their way, Messer Francesco. Let Gian Maria invest the castle. I +care not, so that you do not go." + +Her voice, and the tale it told of sweet anxiety for his fate overruling +everything else in that moment--even her horror of Gian Maria--quickened +his blood to the pace of ecstasy. He was taken by a wild longing to +catch her in his arms--this lady hitherto so brave and daunted now by +the fear of his peril only. Every fibre of his being urged him to gather +her to his breast, whilst he poured courage and comfort into her ear. He +fainted almost with desire to kiss those tender eyes, upturned to his +in her piteous pleading that he should not endanger his own life. But +suppressing all, he only smiled, though very tenderly. + +"Be brave, Madonna, and trust in me a little. Have I failed you yet? +Need you then fear that I shall fail you now?" + +At that she seemed to gather courage. The words reawakened her +confidence in his splendid strength. + +"We shall laugh over this when we break our fast," he cried. "Come, +Ercole!" And without waiting for more, he leapt down the steps with an +agility surprising in one so heavily armed as he. + +They were no more than in time. As they gained the courtyard the +men came sweeping along towards the gates, their voices raucous and +threatening. They were full of assurance. All hell they thought could +not have hindered them, and yet at sight of that tall figure, bright +as an angel, in his panoply of glittering steel, with that great sword +poised on his left shoulder, some of the impetuousness seemed to fall +from them. + +Still they advanced, Cappoccio's voice shouting encouragement. Almost +were they within range of that lengthy sword, when of a sudden it +flashed from his shoulder, and swept a half-circle of dazzling light +before their eyes. Round his head it went, and back again before them, +handled as though it had been a whip, and bringing them, silent, to a +standstill. He bore it back to his shoulder, and alert for the first +movement, his blood on fire, and ready to slay a man or two should the +example become necessary, he addressed them. + +"You see what awaits you if you persist in this," he said, in a +dangerously quiet voice. "Have you no shame, you herd of cowardly +animals! You are loud-voiced enough where treason to the hand that pays +you is in question; but there, it seems, your valour ends." + +He spoke to them now in burning words. He recapitulated the arguments +which yesterday he had made use of to quell the mutinous spirit of +Cappoccio. He assured them that Gian Maria threatened more than he could +accomplish; and so, perhaps, more than he would fulfil if they were so +foolish as to place themselves in his power. Their safety, he pointed +out to them, lay here, behind these walls. The siege could not long +endure. They had a stout ally in Caesar Borgia, and he was marching +upon Babbiano by then, so that Gian Maria must get him home perforce ere +long. Their pay was good, he reminded them, and if the siege were soon +raised they should be well rewarded. + +"Gian Maria threatens to hang you when he captures Roccaleone. But even +should he capture it, do you think he would be allowed to carry out so +inhuman a threat? You are mercenaries, after all, in the pay of Monna +Valentina, on whom and her captains the blame must fall. This is Urbino, +not Babbiano, and Gian Maria is not master here. Do you think the noble +and magnanimous Guidobaldo would let you hang? Have you so poor an +opinion of your Duke? Fools! You are as safe from violence as are those +ladies in the gallery up there. For Guidobaldo would no more think of +harming you than of permitting harm to come to them. If any hanging +there is it will be for me, and perhaps for Messer Gonzaga who hired +you. Yet, do I talk of throwing down my arms? What think you holds me +here? Interest--just as interest holds you--and if I think the risk +worth taking, why should not you? Are you so tame and so poor-spirited +that a threat is to vanquish you? Will you become a byword in Italy, and +when men speak of cowardice, will you have them say: 'Craven as Monna +Valentina's garrison'?" + +In this strain he talked to them, now smiting hard with his scorn, now +cajoling them with his assurances, and breeding confidence anew in their +shaken spirits. It was a thing that went afterwards to the making of an +epic that was sung from Calabria to Piedmont, how this brave knight, +by his words, by the power of his will and the might of his presence, +curbed and subdued that turbulent score of rebellious hinds. + +And from the wall above Valentina watched him, her eyes sparkling with +tears that had not their source in sorrow nor yet in fear, for she knew +that he must prevail. How could it be else with one so dauntless? + +Thus thought she now. But in the moment of his going, fear had chilled +her to the heart, and when she first saw him take his stand before them, +she had turned half-distraught, and begged Gonzaga not to linger at her +side, but to go lend what aid he could to that brave knight who stood so +sorely in need of it. And Gonzaga had smiled a smile as pale as January +sunshine, and his soft blue eyes had hardened in their glance. Not +weakness now was it that held him there, well out of the dangerous +turmoil. For he felt that had he possessed the strength of Hercules, and +the courage of Achilles, he would not in that instant have moved a step +to Francesco's aid. And as much he told her. + +"Why should I, Madonna?" he had returned coldly. "Why should I raise a +hand to help the man whom you prefer to me? Why should I draw sword in +the cause of this fortress?" + +She looked at him with troubled eyes. "What are you saying, my good +Gonzaga?" + +"Aye--your good Gonzaga!" he mocked her bitterly. "Your lap-dog, your +lute-thrummer; but not man enough to be your captain; not man enough to +earn a thought that is kinder than any earned by Peppe or your hounds. +I may endanger my neck to serve you, to bring you hither to a place of +safety from Gian Maria's persecution, and be cast aside for one who, it +happens, has a little more knowledge of this coarse trade of arms. Cast +me aside if you will," he pursued, with increasing bitterness, "but +having done so, do not ask me to serve you again. Let Messer Francesco +fight it out----" + +"Hush, Gonzaga!" she interrupted. "Let me hear what he is saying." + +And her tone told the courtier that his words had been lost upon +the morning air. Engrossed in the scene below she had not so much as +listened to his bitter tirade. For now Francesco was behaving oddly. The +fool was returned from the errand on which he had been despatched, and +Francesco called him to his side. Lowering his sword he received a paper +from Peppe's hand. + +Burning with indignation at having gone unheeded, Gonzaga stood gnawing +his lip, whilst Valentina craned forward to catch Francesco's words. + +"I have here a proof," he cried, "of what I tell you; proof of how +little Gian Maria is prepared to carry out his threats of cannon. It is +that fellow Cappoccio has seduced you with his talk. And you, like the +sheep you are, let yourselves be driven by his foul tongue. Now listen +to the bribe that Gian Maria offers to one within these walls if he can +contrive a means to deliver Roccaleone into his hands." And to Gonzaga's +paralysing consternation, he heard Francesco read the letter with which +Gian Maria had answered his proposed betrayal of the fortress. He +went white with fear and he leant against the low wall to steady +the tell-tale trembling that had seized him. Then Francesco's voice, +scornful and confident, floated up to his ears. "I ask you, my friends, +would his Highness of Babbiano be disposed to the payment of a +thousand gold florins if by bombardment he thought to break a way into +Roccaleone? This letter was written yesterday. Since then we have made +a brave display of cannon ourselves; and if yesterday he dared not fire, +think you he will to-day? But here, assure yourselves, if there is one +amongst you that can read." + +He held out the letter to them. Cappoccio took it, and calling one +Aventano, he held it out in his turn. This Aventano, a youth who had +been partly educated for the Church, but had fallen from that lofty +purpose, now stood forward and took the letter. He scrutinised it, read +it aloud, and pronounced it genuine. + +"Whom is it addressed to?" demanded Cappoccio. + +"Nay, nay!" cried Francesco. "What need for that?" + +"Let be," Cappoccio answered, almost fiercely. "If you would have us +remain in Roccaleone, let be. Aventano, tell me." + +"To Messer Romeo Gonzaga," answered the youth, in a voice of wonder. + +So evil a light leapt to Cappoccio's eye that Francesco carried his free +hand to the sword which he had lowered. But Cappoccio only looked up at +Gonzaga, and grinned malevolently. It had penetrated his dull wits that +he had been the tool of a judas, who sought to sell the castle for a +thousand florins. Further than that Cappoccio did not see; nor was he +very resentful, and his grin was rather of mockery than of anger. He was +troubled by no lofty notions of honour that should cause him to see in +this deed of Gonzaga's anything more than such a trickster's act as it +is always agreeable to foil. And then, to the others, who knew naught +of what was passing in Cappoccio's mind, he did a mighty strange thing. +From being the one to instigate them to treachery and mutiny, he was +the one now to raise his voice in a stout argument of loyalty. He agreed +with all that Messer Francesco had said, and he, for one, ranged himself +on Messer Francesco's side to defend the gates from any traitors who +sought to open them to Gian Maria Sforza. + +His defection from the cause of mutiny was the signal for the utter +abandoning of that cause itself, and another stout ally came opportunely +to weigh in Francesco's favour was the fact that the half-hour of grace +was now elapsed, and Gian Maria's guns continued silent. He drew their +attention to the fact with a laugh, and bade them go in peace, adding +the fresh assurance that those guns would not speak that day, nor the +next, nor indeed ever. + +Utterly conquered by Francesco and--perhaps even more--by his unexpected +ally, Cappoccio, they slunk shamefacedly away to the food and drink that +he bade them seek at Fra Domenico's hands. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. THE LOVERS + + +"How came that letter to your hands?" Valentina asked Gonzaga, when +presently they stood together in the courtyard, whither the courtier had +followed her when she descended. + +"Wrapped round an arbalest-bolt that fell on the ramparts yesterday +whilst I was walking there alone," returned Gonzaga coolly. + +He had by now regained his composure. He saw that he stood in deadly +peril, and the very fear that possessed him seemed, by an odd paradox, +to lend him the strength to play his part. + +Valentina eyed him with a something of mistrust in her glance. But on +Francesco's clear countenance no shadow of suspicion showed. His eyes +almost smiled as he asked Gonzaga: + +"Why did you not bear it to Monna Valentina?" + +A flush reddened the courtier's cheeks. He shrugged his shoulders +impatiently, and in a voice that choked with anger he delivered his +reply. + +"To you, sir, who seem bred in camps and reared in guard-rooms, the +fulness of this insult offered me by Gian Maria may not be apparent. It +may not be yours to perceive that the very contact of that letter soiled +my hands, that it shamed me unutterably to think that that loutish +Duke should have deemed me a target for such a shaft. It were idle, +therefore, to seek to make you understand how little I could bear to +submit to the further shame of allowing another to see the affront that +I was powerless to avenge. I did, sir, with that letter the only thing +conceivable. I crumpled it in my hand and cast it from me, just as I +sought to cast its contents from my mind. But your watchful spies, Ser +Francesco, bore it to you, and if my shame has been paraded before the +eyes of that rabble soldiery, at least it has served the purpose of +saving Monna Valentina. To do that, I would, if the need arose, immolate +more than the pride that caused me to be silent on the matter of this +communication." + +He spoke with such heat of sincerity that he convinced both Francesco +and Valentina, and the lady's eyes took on a softer expression as she +surveyed Gonzaga--this poor Gonzaga whom, her heart told her, she had +sorely wronged in thought. Francesco, ever generous, took his passionate +utterances in excellent part. + +"Messer Gonzaga, I understand your scruples. You do me wrong to think +that I should fail in that." + +He checked the suggestion he was on the point of renewing that, +nevertheless, Gonzaga would have been better advised to have laid that +letter at once before Monna Valentina. Instead, he dismissed the subject +with a laugh, and proposed that they should break their fast so soon as +he had put off his harness. + +He went to do so, whilst Valentina bent her steps towards the +dining-room, attended by Gonzaga, to whom she now sought to make amends +for her suspicions by an almost excessive friendliness of bearing. + +But there was one whom Gonzaga's high-sounding words in connection with +that letter had left cold. This was Peppe, that most wise of fools. He +hastened after Francesco, and while the knight was disarming he came to +voice his suspicions. But Francesco drove him out with impatience, and +Peppe went sorrowing and swearing that the wisdom of the fool was truly +better than the folly of the wise. + +Throughout that day Gonzaga hardly stirred from Valentina's side. +He talked with her in the morning at great length and upon subjects +poetical or erudite, by which he meant to display his vast mental +superiority over the swashbuckling Francesco. In the evening, when the +heat of the day was spent, and whilst that same Messer Francesco was +at some defensive measures on the walls, Gonzaga played at bowls with +Valentina and her ladies--the latter having now recovered from the panic +to which earlier they had been a prey. + +That morning Gonzaga had stood at bay, seeing his plans crumble. That +evening, after the day spent in Valentina's company--and she so sweet +and kind to him--he began to take heart of grace once more, and his +volatile mind whispered to his soul the hope that, after all, things +might well be as he had first intended, if he but played his cards +adroitly, and did not mar his chances by the precipitancy that had once +gone near to losing him. His purpose gathered strength from a message +that came that evening from Gian Maria, who was by then assured that +Gonzaga's plan had failed. He sent word that, being unwilling to provoke +the bloodshed threatened by the reckless madman who called himself Monna +Valentina's Provost, he would delay the bombardment, hoping that in +the meantime hunger would beget in that rebellious garrison a more +submissive mood. + +Francesco read the message to Madonna's soldiers, and they received it +joyously. Their confidence in him increased a hundredfold by this proof +of the accuracy of his foresight. They were a gay company at supper in +consequence, and gayest of all was Messer Gonzaga, most bravely dressed +in a purple suit of taby silk to honour so portentous an occasion. + +Francesco was the first to quit the table, craving Monna Valentina's +leave to be about some duty that took him to the walls. She let him go, +and afterwards sat pensive, nor heeded now Romeo's light chatter, nor +yet the sonnet of Petrarca that presently he sang the company. Her +thoughts were all with him that had left the board. Scarcely a word had +she exchanged with Francesco since that delirious moment when they had +looked into each other's eyes upon the ramparts, and seen the secret +that each was keeping from the other. Why had he not come to her? she +asked herself. And then she bethought her of how Gonzaga had all day +long been glued to her side, and she realised, too, that it was she had +shunned Francesco's company, grown of a sudden strangely shy. + +But greater than her shyness was now her desire to be near him, and to +hear his voice; to have him look again upon her as he had looked that +morning, when in terror for him she had sought to dissuade him from +opposing the craven impulse of her men-at-arms. A woman of mature age, +or one riper in experience, would have waited for him to seek her out. +But Valentina, in her sweet naturalness, thought never of subterfuge or +of dalliant wiles. She rose quietly from the table ere Gonzaga's song +was done, and as quietly she slipped from the room. + +It was a fine night, the air heavy with the vernal scent of fertile +lands, and the deep cobalt of the heavens a glittering, star-flecked +dome in a lighter space of which floated the half-disk of the growing +moon. Such a moon, she bethought her, as she had looked at with thoughts +of him, the night after their brief meeting at Acquasparta. She had +gained that north rampart on which he had announced that duty took him, +and yonder she saw a man---the only tenant of the wall--leaning upon the +embattled parapet, looking down at the lights of Gian Maria's camp. He +was bareheaded, and by the gold coif that gleamed in his hair she knew +him. Softly she stole up behind him. + +"Do we dream here, Messer Francesco?" she asked him, as she reached his +side, and there was laughter running through her words. + +He started round at the sound of her voice, then he laughed too, softly +and gladly. + +"It is a night for dreams, and I was dreaming indeed. But you have +scattered them." + +"You grieve me," she rallied him. "For assuredly they were pleasant, +since, to come here and indulge them, you left--us." + +"Aye--they were pleasant," he answered. "And yet, they were fraught with +a certain sadness, but idle as is the stuff of dreams. They were yours +to dispel, for they were of you." + +"Of me?" she questioned, her heart-beats quickening and bringing to her +cheeks a flush that she thanked the night for concealing. + +"Yes, Madonna--of you and our first meeting in the woods at Acquasparta. +Do you recall it?" + +"I do, I do," she murmured fondly. + +"And do you recall how I then swore myself your knight and ever your +champion? Little did we dream how the honour that I sighed for was to be +mine." + +She made him no answer, her mind harking back to that first meeting on +which so often and so fondly she had pondered. + +"I was thinking, too," he said presently, "of that man Gian Maria in the +plain yonder, and of this shameful siege." + +"You--you have no misgivings?" she faltered, for his words had +disappointed her a little. + +"Misgivings?" + +"For being here with me. For being implicated in what they call my +rebellion?" + +He laughed softly, his eyes upon the silver gleam of waters below. + +"My misgivings are all for the time when this siege shall be ended; when +you and I shall have gone each our separate way," he answered boldly. +He turned to face her now, and his voice rang a little tense. "But for +being here to guide this fine resistance and lend you the little aid I +can---- No, no, I have no misgiving for that. It is the dearest frolic +ever my soldiering led me into. I came to Roccaleone with a message of +warning; but underneath, deep down in my heart, I bore the hope that +mine should be more than a messenger's part; that mine it might be to +remain by you and do such work as I am doing." + +"Without you they would have forced me by now to surrender." + +"Perhaps they would. But while I am here I do not think they will. I +burn for news of Babbiano. If I could but tell what is happening there +I might cheer you with the assurance that this siege can last but a few +days longer. Gian Maria must get him home or submit to the loss of +his throne. And if he loses that your uncle would no longer support so +strenuously his suit with you. To you, Madonna, this must be a cheering +thought. To me--alas! Why should I hope for it?" + +He was looking away now into the night, but his voice quivered with the +emotion that was in him. She was silent, and emboldened perhaps by +that silence of hers, encouraged by the memory of what he had seen that +morning reflected in her eyes: + +"Madonna," he cried, "I would it might be mine to cut a road for you +through that besieging camp, and bear you away to some blessed place +where there are neither courts nor princes. But since this may not be, +Madonna mia, I would that this siege might last for ever." + +And then--was it the night breeze faintly stirring through his hair that +mocked him with the whisper, "So indeed would I?" He turned to her, his +hand, brown and nervous, fell upon hers, ivory-white, where it rested on +the stone. + +"Valentina!" he cried, his voice no louder than a whisper, his eyes +ardently seeking her averted ones. And then, as suddenly as it had leapt +up, was the fire in his glance extinguished. He withdrew his hand from +hers, he sighed, and shifted his gaze to the camp once more. "Forgive, +forget, Madonna," he murmured bitterly, "that which in my madness I have +presumed." + +Silent she stood for a long moment; then she edged nearer to him, and +her voice murmured back: "What if I account it no presumption?" + +With a gasp he swung round to face her, and they stood very close, +glance holding glance, and hers the less timid of the two. They thus +remained for a little space. Then shaking his head and speaking with an +infinite sadness: + +"It were better that you did, Madonna," he made answer. + +"Better? But why?" + +"Because I am no duke, Madonna." + +"And what of that?" she cried, to add with scorn: "Out yonder sits a +duke. Oh, sir, how shall I account presumptuous in you the very words +that I would hear? What does your rank signify to me? I know you for the +truest knight, the noblest gentleman, and the most valiant friend +that ever came to the aid of distressed maiden. Do you forget the very +principles that have led me to make this resistance? That I am a woman, +and ask of life no more than is a woman's due--and no less." + +There she stopped; again the blood suffused her cheeks as she bethought +her of how fast she talked, and of how bold her words might sound. She +turned slightly from him, and leant now upon the parapet, gazing out +into the night. And as she stood thus, a very ardent voice it was that +whispered in her ear: + +"Valentina, by my soul, I love you!" And there that whisper, which +filled her with an ecstasy that was almost painful in its poignancy, +ended sharply as if throttled. Again his hand sought hers, which was +yielded to him as she would have yielded her whole life at his sweet +bidding, and now his voice came less passionately. + +"Why delude ourselves with cruel hopes, my Valentina?" he was saying. +"There is the future. There is the time when this siege shall be done +with, and when, Gian Maria having got him home, you will be free to +depart. Whither will you go?" + +She looked at him as if she did not understand the question, and her +eyes were troubled, although in such light as there was he could scarce +see this. + +"I will go whither you bid me. Where else have I to go?" she added, with +a note of bitterness. + +He started. Her answer was so far from what he had expected. + +"But your uncle----?" + +"What duty do I owe to him? Oh, I have thought of it, and until--until +this morning, it seemed that a convent must be my ultimate refuge. I +have spent most of my young life at Santa Sofia, and the little that I +have seen of the world at my uncle's court scarce invites me to see +more of it. The Mother Abbess loved me a little. She would take me back, +unless----" + +She broke off and looked at him, and before that look of absolute and +sweet surrender his senses swam. That she was niece to the Duke +of Urbino he remembered no more than that he was Count of Aquila, +well-born, but of none too rich estate, and certainly no more a +match for her in Guidobaldo's eyes than if he had been the simple +knight-errant that he seemed. + +He moved closer to her, his hands--as if obeying a bidding greater than +his will, the bidding of that glance of hers, perhaps--took her by the +shoulders, whilst his whole soul looked at her from his eyes. Then, with +a stifled cry, he caught her to him. For a moment she lay, palpitant, +within his arms, her tall, bronze head on a level with his chin, her +heart beating against his heart. Stooping suddenly, he kissed her on the +lips. She suffered it with an unresistance that invited. But when it +was done, she gently put him from her; and he, obedient to her slightest +wish, curbed the wild ardour of his mood, and set her free. + +"Anima mia!" he cried rapturously. "You are mine now, betide what may. +Not Gian Maria nor all the dukes in Christendom shall take you from me." + +She set her hand upon his lips to silence him, and he kissed the palm, +so that laughing she drew back again. And now from laughter she passed +to a great solemnity, and with arm outstretched towards the ducal camp: +"Win me a way through those lines," said she, "and bear me away from +Urbino--far away where Guidobaldo's power and the vengeance of Gian +Maria may not follow us--and you shall have won me for your own. But +until then, let there be a truce to--to this, between us. Here is a +man's work to be done, and if I am weak as to-night, I may weaken you, +and then we should both be undone. It is upon your strength I count, +Franceschino mio, my true knight." + +He would have answered her. He had much to tell her--who and what he +was. But she pointed to the head of the steps, where a man's figure +loomed. + +"Yonder comes the sentinel," she said. "Leave me now, dear Francesco. +Go. It is growing late." + +He bowed low before her, obedient ever, like the true knight he was, and +took his leave of her, his soul on fire. + +Valentina watched his retreating figure until it had vanished round the +angle of the wall. Then with a profound sigh, that was as a prayer of +thanksgiving for this great good that had come into her life, she leaned +upon the parapet and looked out into the darkness, her cheeks flushed, +her heart still beating high. She laughed softly to herself out of the +pure happiness of her mood. The camp of Gian Maria became a subject for +her scorn. What should his might avail whilst she had such a champion to +defend her now and hereafter? + +There was an irony in that siege on which her fancy fastened. By coming +thus in arms against her Gian Maria sought to win her for his wife; yet +all that he had accomplished was to place her in the arms of the one +man whom she had learnt to love by virtue of this very siege. The mellow +warmth of the night, the ambient perfume of the fields were well-sorted +to her mood, and the faint breeze that breathed caressingly upon her +cheek seemed to re-echo the melodies her heart was giving forth. In that +hour those old grey walls of Roccaleone seemed to enclose for her a +very paradise, and the snatch of an old love song stole softly from her +parted lips. But like a paradise--alas!--it had its snake that crept up +unheard behind her, and was presently hissing in her ear. And its voice +was the voice of Romeo Gonzaga. + +"It comforts me, Madonna, that there is one, at least, in Roccaleone has +the heart to sing." + +Startled out of her happy pensiveness by that smooth and now unutterably +sinister voice, she turned to face its owner. + +She saw the white gleam of his face and something of the anger that +smouldered in his eye, and despite herself a thrill of alarm ran through +her like a shudder. She looked beyond him to a spot where lately she +had seen the sentry. There was no one there nor anywhere upon that wall. +They were alone, and Messer Gonzaga looked singularly evil. + +For a moment there was a tense silence, broken only by the tumbling +waters of the torrent-moat and the hoarse challenge of a sentry's "Chi +va lŕ?" in Gian Maria's camp. Then she turned nervously, wondering +how much he might have heard of what had passed between herself and +Francesco, how much have seen. + +"And yet, Gonzaga," she answered him, "I left you singing below when I +came away." + +"--To wanton it here in the moonlight with that damned swashbuckler, +that brigand, that kennel-bred beast of a sbirro!" + +"Gonzaga! You would dare!" + +"Dare?" he mocked her, beside himself with passion. "Is it you who speak +of daring--you, the niece of Guidobaldo da Montefeltro, a lady of the +noble and illustrious house of Rovere, who cast yourself into the arms +of a low-born vassal such as that, a masnadiero, a bandit, a bravo? +And can you yet speak of daring, and take that tone with me, when shame +should strike you either dead or dumb?" + +"Gonzaga," she answered him, her face as white as his own, but her voice +steady and hard with anger, "leave me now--upon the instant, or I will +have you flogged--flogged to the bone." + +A moment he stared at her like a man dazed. Then he tossed his arms +to Heaven, and letting them fall heavily to his sides, he shrugged his +shoulders and laughed evilly. But of going he made no shift. + +"Call your men," he answered her, in a choking voice. "Do your will on +me. Flog me to the bone or to the death--let that be the reward of all +that I have done, all that I have risked, all that I have sacrificed to +serve you. It were of a piece with your other actions." + +Her eyes sought his in the gloom, her bosom heaving wildly in her +endeavours to master herself before she spoke. + +"Messer Gonzaga," said she at last, "I'll not deny that you served me +faithfully in the matter of my escape from Urbino----" + +"Why speak of it?" he sneered. "It was a service of which you but avail +yourself until another offered on whom you might bestow your favour and +the supreme command of your fortress. Why speak of it?" + +"To show you that the service you allude to is now paid," she riposted +sternly. "By reproaching me you have taken payment, and by insulting me +you have stamped out my gratitude." + +"A most convenient logic yours," he mocked. "I am cast aside like an +outworn garment, and the garment is accounted paid for because through +much hard usage it has come to look a little threadbare." + +And now it entered her mind that perhaps there was some justice in what +he said. Perhaps she had used him a little hardly. + +"Do you think, Gonzaga," she said, and her tone was now a shade more +gentle, "that because you have served me you may affront me, and that +knight who has served me, also, and----" + +"In what can such service as his compare with mine? What has he done +that I have not done more?" + +"Why, when the men rebelled here----" + +"Bah! Cite me not that. Body of God! it is his trade to lead such swine. +He is one of themselves. But for the rest, what has such a man as this +to lose by his share in your rebellion, compared with such a loss as +mine must be?" + +"Why, if things go ill, I take it he may lose his life," she answered, +in a low voice. "Can you lose more?" + +He made a gesture of impatience. + +"If things go ill--yes. It may cost him dearly. But if they go well, +and this siege is raised, he has nothing more to fear. Mine is a parlous +case. However ends this siege, for me there will be no escape from the +vengeance of Gian Maria and Guidobaldo. They know my share in it. They +know that your action was helped by me, and that without me you could +never have equipped yourself for such resistance. Whatever may betide +you and this Ser Franceseo, for me there will be no escape." + +She drew a deep breath, then set him the obvious question: + +"Did you not consider it--did you not weigh these chances--before you +embarked upon this business, before you, yourself, urged me to this +step?" + +"Aye, did I," he answered sullenly. + +"Then, why these complaints now?" + +He was singularly, madly frank with her in his reply. He told her that +he had done it because he loved her, because she had given him signs +that his love was not in vain. + +"I gave you signs?" she interrupted him. "Mother in Heaven! Recite these +signs that I may know them." + +"Were you not ever kind to me?" he demanded. "Did you not ever manifest +a liking for my company? Were you not ever pleased that I should sing +to you the songs that in your honour I had made? Was it not to me you +turned in the hour of your need?" + +"See now how poor a thing you are, Gonzaga?" she answered witheringly. +"A woman may not smile on you, may not give you a kind word, may not +suffer you to sing to her, but you must conclude she is enamoured of +you. And if I turned to you in my hour of need, as you remind me, needs +that be a sign of my infatuation? Does every cavalier so think when +a helpless woman turns to him in her distress? But even so," she +continued, "how should all that diminish the peril you now talk of? +Even were your suit with me to prosper, would that make you any the less +Romeo Gonzaga, the butt of the anger of my uncle and Gian Maria? Rather +do I think that it should make you more." + +But he disillusioned her. He did not scruple, in his angry mood, to lay +before her his reasonings that as her husband he would be screened. + +She laughed aloud at that. + +"And so it is by such sophistries as these that your presumption came to +life?" + +That stung him. Quivering with the passion that obsessed him, he stepped +close up to her. + +"Tell me, Madonna--why shall we account presumption in Romeo Gonzaga a +suit that in a nameless adventurer we encourage?" he asked, his voice +thick and tremulous. + +"Have a care," she bade him. + +"A care of what?" he flashed back. "Answer me, Monna Valentina. Am I +so base a man that by the very thought of love for you I must presume, +whilst you can give yourself into the arms of this swashbuckling bravo, +and take his kisses? Your reasoning sorts ill with your deeds." + +"Craven!" she answered him. "Dog that you are!" And before the blaze of +passion in her eyes he recoiled, his courage faltering. She cropped her +anger in mid-career, and in a dangerously calm voice she bade him see +to it that by morning he was no longer in Roccaleone. "Profit by the +night," she counselled him, "and escape the vigilance of Gian Maria as +best you can. Here you shall not stay." + +At that a great fear took possession of him, putting to flight the last +remnant of his anger. Nor fear alone was it, to do him full justice. It +was also the realisation that if he would take payment from her for this +treatment of him, if he would slake his vengeance, he must stay. One +plan had failed him. But his mind was fertile, and he might devise +another that might succeed and place Gian Maria in Roccaleone. Thus +should he be amply venged. She was turning away, having pronounced his +banishment, but he sprang after her, and upon his knees he now besought +her piteously to hear him yet awhile. + +And she, regretting her already of her harshness, and thinking that +perhaps in his jealousy he had been scarce responsible for what he had +said, stood still to hear him. + +"Not that, not that, Madonna," he wailed, his tone suggesting the +imminence of tears. "Do not send me away. If die I must, let me die here +at Roccaleone, helping the defence to my last breath. But do not cast me +out to fall into the hands of Gian Maria. He will hang me for my share +in this business. Do not requite me thus, Madonna. You owe me a little, +surely, and if I was mad when I talked to you just now, it was love of +you that drove me--love of you and suspicion of that man of whom none of +us know anything. Madonna, be pitiful a little. Suffer me to remain." + +She looked down at him, her mind swayed between pity and contempt. Then +pity won the day in the wayward but ever gentle heart of Valentina. She +bade him rise. + +"And go, Gonzaga. Get you to bed, and sleep you into a saner frame of +mind. We will forget all this that you have said, so that you never +speak of it again--nor of this love you say you bear me." + +The hypocrite caught the hem of her cloak, and bore it to his lips. + +"May God keep your heart ever as pure and noble and forgiving," he +murmured brokenly. "I know how little I am deserving of your clemency. +But I shall repay you, Madonna," he protested--and truly meant it, +though not in the sense it seemed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. THE PENITENT + + +A week passed peacefully at Roccaleone; so peacefully that it was +difficult to conceive that out there in the plain sat Gian Maria with +his five-score men besieging them. + +This inaction fretted the Count of Aquila, as did the lack of news from +Fanfulla; and he wondered vaguely what might be taking place at Babbiano +that Gian Maria should be content to sit idly before them, as though he +had months at his disposal in which to starve them into yielding. The +mystery would have been dispelled had he known that he had Gonzaga to +thank for this singular patience of Gian Maria's. For the courtier had +found occasion to send another letter-carrying shaft into the Duke's +camp, informing him of how and why the last plot had failed, and urging +Gian Maria to wait and trust in him to devise a better scheme for +delivering the castle into his power. He had promised boldly and +confidently enough, and Gian Maria--facts showed--had trusted to that +promise of his, and awaited its fulfilment. But tax his mind though he +did incessantly, no inspiration came to him, no scheme suggested itself +by which he might accomplish his treacherous purpose. + +He employed the time cunningly to win back Valentina's favour and +confidence. On the morning after his stormy interview with Guidobaldo's +niece, he had confessed himself to Fra Domenico, and approached the +Sacrament. Every morning thereafter he appeared at Mass, and by the +piety and fervour of his devotions became an example to all the others. +Now this was not lost on Valentina, who was convent-bred, and in a +measure devout. She read in this singular alteration of his ways the +undoubtable indication of an altered character. That he had approached +the Sacrament on the morning after his wild words to her, she took +to mean that he repented him the viciousness of the animosity he +had entertained that he continued so extremely devout thereafter she +construed into meaning that his repentance was sincere and persistent. + +And so she came to ask herself whether, indeed, he had not been as much +sinned against as sinning, and she ended by assuring herself that in a +measure the fault was hers. Seeing him so penitent, and concluding from +it that he was not likely to transgress again, she readmitted him to her +favour, and, little by little, the old friendly state was re-established +and was the sounder, perhaps, by virtue of her confidence that after +what had passed he would not again misunderstand her. + +He did not, nor did he again allow his optimism and ever-ready vanity to +cozen him with false hopes. He read her with exact precision, and whilst +the reading but served to embitter him the more and render him more +steadfast in his vengeful purpose, it, nevertheless, made him smile the +more sweetly and fawn the more obsequiously. + +And not content with this, he did not limit his sycophancy to Valentina, +but sought also by a smiling persistence to ingratiate himself +with Francesco. No voice in Roccaleone--not even that of the bully +Ercole--was raised more often or more enthusiastically to praise and +glorify their Provost. Valentina, observing this, and accepting it as +another sign of his contrition for the past and purpose of amendment +for the future, grew yet more cordial towards him. He was not lacking in +astuteness, this pretty Ser Romeo, nor in knowledge of a woman's heart, +and the apprehension of the fact that there is no flattery she prefers +to that which has for object the man she loves. + +Thus did Gonzaga conquer the confidence and esteem of all during that +peaceful week. He seemed a changed man, and all save Peppe saw in this +change a matter for increased trust and friendship towards him. But the +astute fool looked on and pondered. Such transformations as these were +not effected in a night. He was no believer in any human chrysalis that +shall make of the grub of yesterday the butterfly of to-day. And so, in +this fawning, smiling, subservient Gonzaga, he saw nothing but an object +of mistrust, a fellow to be watched with the utmost vigilance. To this +vigilance the hunchback applied himself with a zeal born of his cordial +detestation of the courtier. But Gonzaga, aware of the fool's mistrust +and watchfulness, contrived for once to elude him, and to get a letter +to Gian Maria setting forth the ingenious plan he had hatched. + +The notion had come to him that Sunday at Mass. On all sanctified days +it was Monna Valentina's way to insist that the entire garrison, with +the exception of one single sentinel--and this only at Francesco's very +earnest urging--should attend the morning service. Like an inspiration +it came to him that such a half-hour as that would be a most opportune +season in which to throw open the gates of Roccaleone to the besiegers. +The following Wednesday was the feast of Corpus Christi. Then would be +his opportunity. + +Kneeling there, with head bent in ecstatic devotion, he matured his +treacherous plan. The single sentry he could suborn, or else--if bribery +failed--poniard. He realised that single-handed he might not lower the +cumbrous drawbridge, nor would it be wise, even if possible, for the +noise of it might give the alarm. But there was the postern. Gian Maria +must construct him a light, portable bridge, and have it in readiness +to span the moat and silently pour his soldiers into the castle through +that little gate. + +And so, the plot matured and every detail clear, he got him to his +chamber and penned the letter that was to rejoice the heart of Gian +Maria. He chose a favourable moment to despatch it, as he had despatched +the former ones, tied about the quarrel of an arbalest, and he saw Gian +Maria's signal--for which the letter had provided--that the plan would +be adopted. Humming a gay measure, jubilant at the prospect of seeing +himself so amply avenged, Gonzaga passed down and out into the castle +gardens to join the ladies in their merry-making over a game of hoodman +blind. + +Now, however much the Duke of Babbiano may have congratulated himself +upon the ally he possessed in Gonzaga, and the cunning scheme the latter +had devised for placing him in possession of Roccaleone, there came +news to him on the morrow that caused him to rejoice a hundredfold more +fervently. His subjects of Babbiano were in a condition approaching open +rebellion, resulting from the disquieting rumours that Caesar Borgia was +arming at Rome for a decent upon the Duchy, and the continued absence of +Gian Maria in such a season, upon a wooing that they deemed ill-timed. A +strong party had been formed, and the leaders had nailed upon the Palace +gates a proclamation that, unless Gian Maria returned within three days +to organise the defence of Babbiano, they would depose him and repair to +Aquila to invite his cousin, Francesco del Falco--whose patriotism and +military skill were known to all--to assume the crown of Babbiano and +protect them. + +At the news, and upon reading the proclamation, which Alvari had brought +with him, Gian Maria flew into one of those fits of rage that made his +name a byword in Babbiano. Presently, however, he cooled. There +was Gonzaga yonder, who had promised to admit him to Roccaleone on +Wednesday. That left him time to first possess himself of his reluctant +bride, and then ride hard to Babbiano, to arrive there before the expiry +of the three days' grace his subjects gave him. + +He conferred with Guidobaldo, and urged that a priest should be in +waiting to wed them so soon as he should have brought her out of the +fortress. Upon that detail they were within an ace of quarrelling. +Guidobaldo would not at first agree to such hasty nuptials; they were +unfitting the dignity and the station of his niece, and if Gian Maria +would wed her he must come to Urbino and let the ceremony be performed +by a cardinal. Well was it then for Gian Maria that he mastered his +wonted hastiness and curbed the hot, defiant retort that rose to his +lips. Had he done so, an enduring rupture between them would probably +have ensued; for Guidobaldo was not one to permit himself to be +hectored, and, after all, he amply realised that Gian Maria had more +need of him than he of Gian Maria. And this in that moment the Duke of +Babbiano realised too, and realising it he set himself to plead +where otherwise he might have demanded, to beg as a favour that +which otherwise he might have commanded with a threat. And so he won +Guidobaldo--although reluctant--to his wishes in the matter, and in +his good-nature the Duke of Urbino consented to pocket the dignity that +prompted him to see the ceremony performed with princely pomp. + +This being settled, Gian Maria blessed Gonzaga who rendered it all +possible, and came most opportunely to his aid where without him he +should have been forced to resort to cannon and bloodshed. + +With Gonzaga the only shadow of doubt that remained to mar the perfect +certainty of his success lay in his appreciation of Francesco's daring +character and resourceful mind, and now as if the gods were eager to +favour him to the very last degree--a strange weapon to combat this was +unexpectedly thrust into his hand. + +It happened that Alvari was not the only messenger who travelled that +day to Roccaleone. There followed him by some hours, the Count of +Aquila's servant, Zaccaria, who rode hard and reached the approaches of +the castle by sunset. His destination being the fortress itself, he was +forced to wait in the woods until night had fallen, and even then his +mission was fraught with peril. + +It befell that somewhere near the second hour of night, the moon being +overcast at the time--for there were threats of a storm in the sky--the +sentinel on the eastern wall heard a sound of splashing in the moat +below, accompanied by the stertorous breathing of a swimmer whose mouth +is not well above water. He challenged the sound, but receiving no reply +he turned to go and give the alarm, and ran into the arms of Gonzaga, +who had come up to take the air. + +"Illustrious," he exclaimed, "there is someone swimming the moat." + +"Eh?" cried Gonzaga, a hundred suspicions of Gian Maria running through +his mind. "Treachery?" + +"It is what I thought." + +Gonzaga took the man by the sleeve of his doublet, and drew him back to +the parapet. They peered over, and from out of the blackness they were +hailed by a faint "Olá!" + +"Who goes there?" demanded Romeo. + +"A friend," came the answer softly. "A messenger from Babbiano with +letters for the Lord Count of Aquila. Throw me a rope, friends, before I +drown in this trough." + +"You rave, fool!" answered him Gonzaga. "We have no counts at +Roccaleone." + +"Surely, sir sentinel," replied the voice, "my master, Messer Francesco +del Falco, is here. Throw me a rope, I say." + +"Messer Fran----" began Gonzaga. Then he made a noise like a man +choking. It was as if a sudden light of revelation had flooded his +brain. "Get a rope," he harshly bade the sentry. "In the armoury yard. +Despatch, fool!" he added sharply, now fearing interruption. + +In a moment the man was back, and the rope was lowered to the visitor +below. A few seconds later Zaccaria stood on the ramparts of Roccaleone, +the water dripping from his sodden garments, and gathering in a pool +about his feet. + +"This way," said Gonzaga, leading the man towards the armoury tower, +where a lanthorn was burning. By the light of it he surveyed the +newcomer, and bade the sentry close the door and remain within call, +without. + +Zaccaria looked startled at the order. This was scarcely the reception +he had expected after so imperilling his life to reach the castle with +his letter. + +"Where is my lord?" he inquired, through teeth that chattered from +the cold of his immersion, wondering vaguely who this very magnificent +gentleman might be. + +"Is Messer Francesco del Falco your lord?" asked Romeo. + +"He is, sir. I have had the honour to serve him these ten years. I bring +him letters from Messer Fanfulla degli Arcipreti. They are very urgent. +Will you lead me to him?" + +"You are very wet," murmured Gonzaga solicitously. "You will take your +death from cold, and the death of a man so brave as to have found a way +through Gian Maria's lines were truly deplorable." He stepped to the +door. "Olá!" he called to the sentry. "Take this brave fellow up there +and find him a change of raiment." He pointed to the upper chamber of +the tower, where, indeed, such things were stored. + +"But my letters, sir!" cried Zaccaria impatiently. "They are very +urgent, and hours have I wasted already in waiting for the night." + +"Surely you can wait until you have changed your garments? Your life, I +take it, is of more account than the loss of a few moments." + +"But my orders from Messer degli Arcipreti were that I must not lose an +instant." + +"Oh, si, si!" cried Gonzaga, with a show of good-tempered impatience. +"Give me the letters, then, and I will take them to the Count while you +are stripping those wet clothes." + +Zaccaria eyed him a moment in doubt. But he looked so harmless in his +finery, and the expression of his comely face was so winning and honest, +that the man's hesitancy faded as soon as it sprang up. Removing his +cap, he drew from within the crown the letter, which he had placed there +to keep dry. This package he now handed to Gonzaga, who, with a final +word of instruction to the sentry touching the finding of raiment for +the messenger, stepped out to go his errand. But outside the door he +paused, and called the sentry to him again. + +"Here is a ducat for you," he whispered. "Do my bidding and you shall +have more. Detain him in the tower till I return, and on no account let +him be seen or heard by anyone." + +"Yes, Excellency," the man replied. "But what if the captain comes and +finds me absent from my post?" + +"I will provide for that. I will tell Messer Fortemani that I have +employed you on a special matter, and ask him to replace you. You are +dispensed sentry duty for to-night." + +The man bowed, and quietly withdrew to attend to his prisoner, for in +that light he now regarded Zaccaria. + +Gonzaga sought Fortemani in the guard-room below, and did as he had +promised the sentry. + +"But," snapped Ercole, reddening, "by whose authority have you done +this? By what right do you send sentinels on missions of your own? +Christo Santo! Is the castle to be invaded while you send my watchmen to +fetch your comfitbox or a book of verses?" + +"You will remember----" began Romeo, with an air of overwhelming +dignity. + +"Devil take you and him that sent you!" broke in the bully. "The Messer +Provost shall hear of this." + +"On no account," cried Gonzaga, now passing from anger to alarm, and +snatching the skirts of Fortemani's cloak as the captain was in the act +of going out to execute his threat. "Ser Ercole be reasonable, I beg +of you. Are we to alarm the castle and disturb Monna Valentina over a +trumpery affair such as this? Man, they will laugh at you." + +"Eh?" There was nothing Ercole relished less than to be laughed at. He +pondered a moment, and it occurred to him that perhaps he was making +much of nothing. Then: + +"You, Aventano," he called, "take your partisan, and patrol the eastern +rampart. There, Messer Gonzaga, I have obeyed your wishes; but Messer +Francesco shall hear of it when he comes his rounds." + +Gonzaga left him. Francesco would not make his rounds for another hour, +and by then it would not matter what Fortemani told him. In one way or +another he would be able to account for his action. + +He crossed the courtyard, and mounted the steps leading to his own +chamber. Once there, he closed and barred the door. He kindled a light, +and flinging the letter on the table, he sat and contemplated its +exterior and the great red seal that gleamed in the yellow light of his +taper. + +So! This knight-errant, this man whom he had accounted a low-born hind, +was none other than the famous Count of Aquila, the well-beloved of the +people of Babbiano, the beau-ideal of all military folk from Sicily to +the Alps. And he had never suspected it! Dull-witted did he now account +himself. Enough descriptions had he heard of that famous condottiero, +that mirror of Italian chivalry. He might have known that there did +not live two men of such commanding ways as he had seen instanced at +Roccaleone. What was his object there? Was it love of Valentina, or was +it----? He paused, as in his mind he made a swift review of the politics +of Babbiano. A sudden possibility occurred to him that made his eyes +sparkle and his hands tremble with eagerness. Was this but a political +scheme to undermine his cousin's throne, to which Gonzaga had heard it +rumoured that Francesco del Falco was an aspirant? If it were so, what a +vengeance would be his to unmask him! How it must humble Valentina! The +letter lay before him. Within it the true facts would be disclosed. What +did his friend Fanfulla write him? + +He took the letter up and made a close inspection of the seal. Then +softly, quietly, slowly he drew his dagger. If his suspicions were +unfounded, his dagger heated in the taper should afford him the means to +conceal the fact that he had tampered with that missive. He slipped his +blade under the seal, and worked it cautiously until it came up and set +the letter open. He unfolded it, and as he read his eyes dilated. He +seemed to crouch on his chair, and the hand that held the paper shook. +He drew the candle nearer, and shading his eyes he read it again, word +for word: + +"MY DEAR LORD COUNT,--I have delayed writing until the time when the +signs I observed should have become more definite, as they have now +done, so that I may delay no longer. This, then, goes by the hand of +Zaccaria, to tell you that to-day has word been sent Gian Maria giving +him three days in which to return to Babbiano, or to abandon all hope +of his crown, of which the people will send the offer then to you at +Aquila, where you are believed to be. So now, my dear lord, you have the +tyrant at your mercy, tossed between Scylla and Charybdis. Yours it is +to resolve how you will act; but I rejoice in being the one to send you +word that your presence at Roccaleone and your stubborn defence of +the fortress has not been vain, and that presently you are to reap the +well-earned reward of it. The people have been stirred to this extreme +action by the confusion prevailing here. + +"News has reached us that Caesar Borgia is arming, at Rome, a condotta +to invade Babbiano, and the people are exasperated at Gian Maria's +continued absence in such a season. They are short-sighted in this, for +they overlook the results that must attend the alliance with Urbino. May +God protect and prosper your Excellency, whose most devoted servant is + +"FANFULLA DEGLI AROIPRETI." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. A REVELATION + + +"Francesco," said Valentina, and the name came from her lips as if it +were an endearment, "why that frowning, careworn look?" + +They were in the dining-room alone, where the others had left them, and +they were still seated at the table at which they had supped. Francesco +raised his dark, thoughtful eyes, and as they lighted now on Valentina +the thoughtfulness that was in them gave place to tenderness. + +"I am fretted by this lack of news," he acknowledged. "I would I knew +what is being done in Babbiano. I had thought that ere now Caesar Borgia +had stirred Gian Maria's subjects into some manner of action. I would I +knew!" + +She rose, and coming close to him, she stood with one hand resting upon +his shoulder, her eyes smiling down upon his upturned face. + +"And shall such a trifle fret you--you who professed a week ago that you +would this siege might last for ever?" + +"Account me not fickle, anima mia," he answered her, and he kissed the +ivory fingers that rested on his shoulder. "For that was before the +world changed for me at the magic of your bidding. And so," he repeated, +"I would I knew what is toward at Babbiano!" + +"But why sigh over a wish so idle?" she exclaimed. "By what means can +news reach you here of the happenings of the world without?" + +He pondered a moment, seeking words in which to answer her. A score of +times during that week had he been on the point of disclosing himself, +of telling her who and what he was. Yet ever had he hesitated, putting +off that disclosure until the season should appear more fitting. This he +now considered the present. She trusted him, and there was no reason to +remain silent longer. Perhaps already he had delayed too long, and so he +was about to speak when she started from his side, and crossed hastily +to the window, alarmed by the sound of approaching steps. A second later +the door opened, and Gonzaga appeared. + +A moment he hesitated in the doorway, looking from one to the other, and +Francesco, lazily regarding him in his turn, noted that his cheeks were +pale and that his eyes glittered like those of a man with the fever. +Then he stepped forward, and, leaving the door open behind him, he +advanced into the room. + +"Monna Valentina, I have something to communicate to you." His voice +shook slightly. "Messer--Francesco, will you give us leave?" And his +feverish eyes moved to the open door with an eloquence that asked no +words. + +Francesco rose slowly, endeavouring to repress his surprise and glanced +across at Valentina, as if awaiting her confirmation or refusal of this +request that he should leave them. + +"A communication for me?" she marvelled, a slight frown drawing her +brows together. "Of what nature, sir?" + +"Of a nature as important as it is private." + +She raised her chin, and with a patient smile she seemed to beg of +Francesco that he would suffer her to humour this mood of Gonzaga's. In +quick obedience Francesco inclined his head. + +"I shall be in my chamber until the hour of my rounds, Madonna," he +announced, and with that took his departure. + +Gonzaga attended him to the door, which he closed after him, and +composing his features to an expression of sorrowing indignation, he +came back and stood facing Valentina across the table. + +"Madonna," he said, "I would to Heaven this communication I have to make +to you came from other lips. In the light of what has passed--here at +Roccaleone--through my folly--you--you may think my mission charged with +vindictiveness." + +Perplexity stared at him from her eyes. + +"You fill me with alarm, my good Gonzaga," she answered him, though +smiling. + +"Alas it has fallen to my unfortunate lot to do more than that. I have +made the discovery of as foul a piece of treachery here in your fortress +as ever traitor hatched." + +She looked at him more seriously now. The vehemence of his tone, and the +suggestion of sorrow that ran through it and gave it so frank an accent, +commanded her attention. + +"Treachery!" she echoed, in a low voice, her eyes dilating. "And from +whom?" + +He hesitated a moment, then waving his hand: + +"Will you not sit, Madonna?" he suggested nervously. + +Mechanically she seated herself at the table, her eyes ever on his face, +alarm spreading in her heart, born of suspense. + +"Be seated too," she bade him, "and tell me." + +He drew up a chair, sat down opposite to her, and taking a deep breath: +"Heard you ever of the Count of Aquila?" he inquired. + +"It were odd if I had not. The most valiant knight in Italy, fame dubs +him." + +His eyes were intently on her face, and what he saw there satisfied him. + +"You know how he stands with the people of Babbiano?" + +"I know that he is beloved of them." + +"And do you know that he is a pretender to the throne of Babbiano? You +will remember that he is cousin to Gian Maria?" + +"His relationship to Gian Maria I know. That he pretends to the throne +of Babbiano I was not aware. But whither are we straying?" + +"We are not straying, Madonna," answered Gonzaga, "we are making a +straight line for the very heart and soul of this treachery I spoke of. +Would you believe me if I told you that here, in Roccaleone, we have +an agent of the Count of Aquila one who in the Count's interest is +protracting this siege with the pretended aim of driving Gian Maria +off." + +"Gonzaga----" she began, more than half guessing the drift of his +explanation. But he interrupted her with unusual brusqueness. + +"Wait, Madonna," he cried, his eyes upon her face, his hand imperiously +raised. "Hear me out in patience. I am not talking idly. Of what I tell +you I am armed with proof and witness. Such an agent of--of the Count's +interests we have among us, and his true object in protracting this +siege, and encouraging and aiding you in your resistance, is to outwear +the patience of the people of Babbiano with Gian Maria, and drive them +in the hour of their approaching peril from Caesar Borgia's armies to +bestow the throne on Aquila." + +"Where learnt you this foul lie?" she asked him, her cheeks crimson, her +eyes on fire. + +"Madonna," he said, in a patient voice, "this that you call a lie is +already an accomplished fact. I am not laying before you the fruits of +idle speculation. I have upon me the most positive proof that such +a result as was hoped for has already been reached. Gian Maria has +received from his subjects a notification that unless he is in his +capital within three days from this, they will invest the Lord of Aquila +with the ducal crown." + +She rose, her anger well controlled, her voice calm. + +"Where is this proof? No, no; I don't need to see it. Whatever it is, +what shall it prove to me? That your words, in so far as the politics +of Babbiano are concerned, may be true; our resistance of Gian Maria may +indeed be losing him his throne and doing good service to the cause of +the Count of Aquila; but how shall all this prove that lie of yours, +that Messer Francesco--for it is clearly of him you speak--that Messer +Francesco should be this agent of the Count's? It is a lie, Gonzaga, for +which you shall be punished as you deserve." + +She ceased, and stood awaiting his reply, and as she watched him his +calm demeanour struck a chill into her heart. He was so confident, so +full of assurance; and that, in Gonzaga, she had learnt to know meant a +strong bulwark 'twixt himself and danger. He sighed profoundly. + +"Madonna, these cruel words of yours do not wound me, since they are +no more than I expected. But it will wound me--and sorely--if when you +shall have learnt the rest you do not humbly acknowledge how you have +wronged me, how grossly you have misjudged me. You think I come to +you with evil in my heart, urged by a spirit of vindictiveness against +Messer Francesco. Instead, I come to you with nothing but a profound +sorrow that mine must be the voice to disillusion you, and a deep +indignation against him that has so foully used you to his own ends. +Wait, Madonna! In a measure you are right. It was not strictly true to +say that this Messer Francesco is the agent of the Count of Aquila." + +"Ah! You are recanting already?" + +"Only a little--an insignificant little. He is no agent because----" He +hesitated, and glanced swiftly up. Then he sighed, lowered his voice, +and with consummately simulated sorrow, he concluded "Because he is, +himself, Francesco del Falco. Count of Aquila." + +She swayed a moment, and the colour died from her cheeks, leaving them +ivory pale. She leaned heavily against the table, and turned over in her +mind what she had heard. And then, as suddenly as it had gone, the blood +rushed back into her face, mounting to her very temples. + +"It's a lie!" she blazed at him; "a lie for which you shall be whipped." + +He shrugged his shoulders, and cast Francesco's letter on to the table. + +"There, Madonna, is something that will prove all that I have said." + +She eyed the paper coldly. Her first impulse was to call Fortemani and +carry out her threat of having Gonzaga whipped, refusing so much as to +see this thing that he so confidently termed a proof; but it may be that +his confidence wrought upon her, touching a chord of feminine curiosity. +That he was wrong she never doubted; but that he believed himself right +she was also assured, and she wondered what this thing might be that +had so convinced him. Still she did not touch it, but asked in an +indifferent voice: + +"What is it?" + +"A letter that was brought hither to-night by a man who swam the moat, +and whom I have ordered to be detained in the armoury tower. It is from +Fanfulla degli Arcipreti to the Count of Aquila. If your memory will +bear you back to a certain day at Acquasparta, you may recall that +Fanfulla was the name of a very gallant cavalier who addressed this +Messer Francesco with marked respect." + +She took that backward mental glance he bade her, and remembered. Then +she remembered, too, how that very evening Francesco had said that he +was fretting for news of Babbiano, and that when she had asked how +he hoped that news could reach him at Roccaleone, Gonzaga had entered +before he answered her. Indeed, he had seemed to hesitate upon that +answer. A sudden chill encompassed her at that reflection. Oh, it was +impossible, absurd! And yet she took the letter from the table. With +knit brows she read it, whilst Gonzaga watched her, scarce able to keep +the satisfaction from gleaming in his eyes. + +She read it slowly, and as she read her face grew deathly pale. When +she had finished she stood silent for a long minute, her eyes upon +the signature and her mind harking back to what Gonzaga had said, and +drawing comparison between that and such things as had been done +and uttered, and nowhere did she find the slightest gleam of that +discrepancy which so ardently she sought. + +It was as if a hand were crushing the heart in her bosom. This man whom +she had trusted, this peerless champion of her cause, to be nothing but +a self-seeker, an intriguer, who, to advance his own ends, had made a +pawn of her. She thought of how for a moment he had held her in his arms +and kissed her, and at that her whole soul revolted against the notion +that here was no more than treachery. + +"It's all a plot against him!" she cried, her cheeks scarlet again. +"It's an infamous thing of your devising, Messer Gonzaga, an odious +lie!" + +"Madonna, the man that brought the letter is still detained. Confront +him with Messer Francesco; or apply the question to him, and learn +his master's true name and station. As for the rest, if that letter is +insufficient proof for you, I beg that you will look back at facts. Why +should he lie to you? and say that his name was Francesco Franceschi? +Why should he have urged you--against all reason--to remain here, when +he brought you news that Gian Maria was advancing? Surely had he but +sought to serve you he had better accomplished this by placing his own +castle of Aquila at your disposal, and leaving here an empty nest for +Gian Maria, as I urged." + +She sank to a chair, a fever in her mind. + +"I tell you, Madonna, there is no mistake. What I have said is true. +Another three days would he have held Gian Maria here, whilst if you +gave him that letter, it is odds he would slip away in the night of +to-morrow, that he might be in Babbiano on the third day to take the +throne his cousin treats so lightly. Sainted God!" he cried out. "I +think this is the most diabolically treacherous plot that ever mind of +man conceived and human heartlessness executed." + +"But--but----" she faltered, "all this is presupposing that Messer +Francesco is indeed the Count of Aquila. May there--may it not be that +this letter was meant for some other destination?" + +"Will you confront this messenger with the Count?" + +"With the Count?" she inquired dully. "With Messer Francesco, you mean?" +She shuddered, and with strange inconsistence: "No," she said, in a +choking voice, her lip twisting oddly at the corner. "I do not wish to +see his face again." + +A light gleamed in Gonzaga's eye, and was extinguished on the instant. + +"Best make certain," he suggested, rising. "I have ordered Fortemani +to bring Lanciotto here. He will be waiting now, without. Shall I admit +them?" + +She nodded without speaking, and Gonzaga opened the door, and called +Fortemani. A voice answered him from the gloom of the banqueting-hall. + +"Bring Lanciotto here," he commanded. + +When Francesco's servant entered, a look of surprise on his face at +these mysterious proceedings, it was Valentina who questioned him, and +that in a voice as cold as though the issue concerned her no whit. + +"Tell me, sirrah," she said, "and as you value your neck, see that you +answer me truly--what is your master's name?" + +Lanciotto looked from her to Gonzaga, who stood by, a cynical curl on +his sensual lips. + +"Answer Monna Valentina," the courtier urged him. "State your master's +true name and station." + +"But, lady," began Lanciotto, bewildered. + +"Answer me!" she stormed, her small clenched hands beating the table in +harsh impatience. And Lanciotto, seeing no help for it, answered: + +"Messer Francesco del Falco, Count of Aquila." + +Something that began in a sob and ended in a laugh burst from the lips +of Valentina. Ercole's eyes were wide at the news, and he might have +gone the length of interposing a question, when Gonzaga curtly bade +him go to the armoury tower, and bring thence the soldier and the man +Gonzaga had left in his care. + +"I will leave no shadow of doubt in your mind, Madonna," he said in +explanation. + +They waited in silence--for Lanciotto's presence hindered +conversation--until Ercole returned accompanied by the man-at-arms and +Zaccaria, who had now changed his raiment. Before they could question +the new-comer, such questions as they might have put were answered by +the greeting that passed between him and his fellow-servant Lanciotto. + +Gonzaga turned to Valentina. She sat very still, her tawny head bowed +and in her eyes a look of sore distress. And in that instant a brisk +step sounded without. The door was thrust open, and Francesco himself +stood upon the threshold, with Peppe's alarmed face showing behind him. +Gonzaga instinctively drew back a pace, and his countenance lost some of +its colour. + +At sight of Francesco, Zaccaria rushed forward and bowed profoundly. + +"My lord!" he greeted him. + +And if one little thing had been wanting to complete the evidence +against the Count, that thing, by an odd mischance, Francesco himself +seemed to supply. The strange group in that dining-room claiming +his attention, and the portentous air that hung about those present, +confirmed the warning Peppe had brought him that something was amiss. +He disregarded utterly his servant's greeting, and with eyes of a +perplexity that may have worn the look of alarm he sought the face of +Valentina. + +She rose upon the instant, an angry red colouring her cheeks. His very +glance, it seemed, was become an affront unbearable after what had +passed--for the memory of his kiss bit like a poisoned fang into +her brain. An odd laugh broke from her. She made a gesture towards +Francesco. + +"Fortemani, you will place the Count of Aquila under arrest," she +commanded, in a stern, steady voice, "and as you value your life you +will see that he does not elude you." + +The great bully hesitated. His knowledge of Francesco's methods was not +encouraging. + +"Madonna!" gasped Francesco, his bewilderment increasing. + +"Did you hear me, Fortemani," she demanded. "Remove him." + +"My lord?" cried Lanciotto, laying hand to his sword his eyes upon his +master's, ready to draw and lay about him at a glance of bidding. + +"Sh! Let be," answered Franeesco coldly. "Here, Messer Fortemani." And +he proffered his dagger, the only weapon that he carried. + +Valentina, calling Gonzaga to attend her, made shift to quit the +apartment. At that Francesco seemed to awaken to his position. + +"Madonna, wait," he cried, and he stepped deliberately before her. "You +must hear me. I have surrendered in earnest of my faith and confident +that once you have heard me----" + +"Captain Fortemani," she cried, almost angrily, "will you restrain your +prisoner? I wish to pass." + +Ercole, with visible reluctance, laid a hand on Francesco's shoulder; +but it was unnecessary. Before her words, the Count recoiled as if +he had been struck. He stood clear of her path with a gasp at once of +unbelief and angry resignation. An instant his eyes rested on Gonzaga, +so fiercely that the faint smile withered on the courtier's lips, and +his knees trembled under him as he hastened from the room in Valentina's +wake. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. IN THE ARMOURY TOWER + + +The rough stones of the inner courtyard shone clean and bright in +the morning sun, still wet with the heavy rains that had washed them +yesternight. + +The fool sat on a rude stool within the porch of the long gallery, and, +moodily eyeing that glistening pavement, ruminated. He was angry, +which, saving where Fra Domenico was concerned, was a rare thing with +good-humoured Peppe. He had sought to reason with Monna Valentina +touching the imprisonment in his chamber of Messer Francesco, and she +had bidden him confine his attention to his capers with a harshness +he had never known in her before. But he had braved her commands, and +astonished her with the information that the true identity of this +Messer Francesco had been known to him since that day when they had +first met him at Acquasparta. He had meant to say more. He had meant +to add the announcement of Francesco's banishment from Babbiano and his +notorious unwillingness to mount his cousin's throne. He had meant to +make her understand that had Francesco been so minded, he had no need +to stoop to such an act as this that she imputed to him. But she had cut +him short, and with angry words and angrier threats she had driven him +from her presence. + +And so she was gone to Mass, and the fool had taken shelter in the porch +of the gallery, that there he might vent some of his ill-humour--or +indeed indulge it--in pondering the obtuseness of woman and the +insidiousness of Gonzaga, to whom he never doubted that this miserable +state of things was due. + +And as he sat there--a grotesque, misshapen figure in gaudy motley--an +ungovernable rage possessed him. What was to become of them now? Without +the Count of Aquila's stern support the garrison would have forced her +to capitulate a week ago. What would betide, now that the restraint of +his formidable command was withdrawn? + +"She will know her folly when it's too late. It's the way of women," he +assured himself. And, loving his mistress as he did, his faithful soul +was stricken at the thought. He would wait there until she returned from +Mass, and then she should hear him--all should hear him. He would +not permit himself to be driven away again so easily. He was intently +turning over in his mind what he would say, with what startling, +pregnant sentence he would compel attention, when he was startled by +the appearance of a figure on the chapel steps. Sudden and quietly as an +apparition it came, but it bore the semblance of Romeo Gonzaga. + +At sight of him, Peppe instinctively drew back into the shadows of the +porch, his eyes discerning the suspicious furtiveness of the courtier's +movements, and watching them with a grim eagerness. He saw Romeo look +carefully about him, and then descend the steps on tiptoe, evidently +so that no echo of his footfalls should reach those within the chapel. +Then, never suspecting the presence of Peppe, he sped briskly across the +yard and vanished through the archway that led to the outer court. And +the fool, assured that some knowledge of the courtier's purpose would +not be amiss, set out to follow him. + +In his room under the Lion's Tower the Count of Aquila had spent a +restless night, exercised by those same fears touching the fate of +the castle that had beset the fool, but less readily attributing his +confinement to Gonzaga's scheming. Zaccaria's presence had told him that +Fanfulla must at last have written, and he could but assume that the +letter, falling into Monna Valentina's hands, should have contained +something that she construed into treason on his part. + +Bitterly he reproached himself now with not having from the very outset +been frank with her touching his identity; bitterly he reproached her +with not so much as giving a hearing to the man she had professed to +love. Had she but told him upon what grounds her suspicions against him +had been founded, he was assured that he could have dispelled them at +a word, making clear their baselessness and his own honesty of purpose +towards her. Most of all was he fretted by the fact that Zaccaria's +presence, after a coming so long expected and so long delayed, argued +that the news he bore was momentous. From this it might result that +Gian Maria should move at any moment and that his action might be of a +desperate character. + +Now through the ranks of Fortemani's men there had run an inevitable +dismay at Francesco's arrest, and a resentment against Valentina who +had encompassed it. His hand it was that had held them together, his +judgment--of which they had had unequivocal signs--that had given them +courage. He was a leader who had shown himself capable of leading, and +out of confidence for whom they would have undertaken anything that +he bade them. Whom had they now? Fortemani was but one of themselves, +placed in command over them by an event purely adventitious. Gonzaga was +a fop whose capers they mimicked and whose wits they despised; whilst +Valentina, though brave enough and high-spirited, remained a girl of no +worldly and less military knowledge, whose orders it might be suicidal +to carry out. + +Now by none were these opinions more strongly entertained than by +Ercole Fortemani himself. Never had he performed anything with greater +reluctance than the apprehension of Francesco, and when he thought of +what was likely to follow his consternation knew no bounds. He had come +to respect and, in his rough way, even to love their masterful Provost, +and since learning his true identity, in the hour of arresting him, his +admiration had grown to something akin to reverence for the condottiero +whose name to the men-at-arms of Italy was like the name of some patron +saint. + +To ensure the safe keeping of his captive, he had been ordered by +Gonzaga, who now resumed command of Roccaleone, to spend the night in +the ante-room of Francesco's chamber. These orders he had exceeded by +spending a considerable portion of the night in the Count's very room. + +"You have but to speak," the bully had sworn, by way of showing +Francesco the true nature of his feelings, "and the castle is yours. At +a word from you my men will flock to obey you, and you may do your will +at Roccaleone." + +"Foul traitor that you are," Francesco had laughed at him. "Do you +forget under whom you have taken service? Let be what is, Ercole. But +if a favour you would do me, let me see Zaccaria--the man that came to +Roccaleone to-night." + +This Ercole had done for him. Now Zaccaria was fully aware of the +contents of the letter he had carried, having been instructed by +Fanfulla against the chance arising of his being compelled, for his +safety, to destroy it--an expedient to which he now bitterly repented +him that he had not had recourse. From Zaccaria, then, Francesco learnt +all that there was to learn, and since the knowledge but confirmed his +fears that Gian Maria would delay action no longer, he fell a prey to +the most passionate impatience at his own detention. + +In the grey hours of the morning he grew calmer, and by the light of +a lamp that he had called Ercole to replenish, he sat down to write a +letter to Valentina, which he thought should carry conviction of his +honesty to her heart. Since she would not hear him, this was the only +course. At the end of an hour--his moribund light grown yellow now that +the sun was risen--his letter was accomplished, and he summoned Ercole +again, to charge him to deliver it at once to Monna Valentina. + +"I shall await her return from chapel," answered Ercole. He took the +letter and departed. As he emerged into the courtyard he was startled to +see the fool dash towards him, gasping for breath, and with excitement +in every line of his quaint face. + +"Quickly, Ercole!" Peppe enjoined him. "Come with me." + +"Devil take you, spawn of Satan--whither?" growled the soldier. + +"I will tell you as we go. We have not a moment to spare. There is +treachery afoot---- Gonzaga----" he gasped, and ended desperately: "Will +you come?" + +Fortemani needed no second bidding. The chance of catching pretty Messer +Romeo at a treachery was too sweet a lure. Snorting and puffing--for +hard drinking had sorely impaired his wind--the great captain hurried +the fool along, listening as they went to the gasps in which he brought +out his story. It was not much, after all. Peppe had seen Messer Gonzaga +repair to the armoury tower. Through an arrow-slit he had watched him +take down and examine an arbalest, place it on the table and sit down to +write. + +"Well?" demanded Ercole. "What else?" + +"Naught else. That is all," answered the hunchback. + +"Heaven and hell!" roared the swashbuckler, coming to a standstill and +glowering down upon his impatient companion. "And you have made me run +for this?" + +"And is it not enough?" retorted Peppe testily. "Will you come on?" + +"Not a foot farther," returned the captain, getting very angry. "Is this +a miserable jest? What of the treachery you spoke of?" + +"A letter and an arbalest!" panted the maddened Peppe, grimacing +horribly at this delay. "God, was there ever such a fool! Does this mean +nothing to that thick, empty thing you call a head? Have you forgotten +how Gian Maria's offer of a thousand florins came to Roccaleone? On an +arbalest quarrel, stupid! Come on, I say, and afterwards you shall have +my motley--the only livery you have a right to wear." + +In the shock of enlightenment Ercole forgot to cuff the jester for his +insolence, and allowed himself once more to be hurried along, across the +outer court and up the steps that led to the battlements. + +"You think----" he began. + +"I think you had best tread more softly," snapped the fool, under his +breath, "and control that thunderous wheeze, if you would surprise Ser +Romeo." + +Ercole accepted the hint, meek as a lamb, and leaving the fool behind +him on the steps, he went softly up, and approached the armoury tower. +Peering cautiously through the arrow-slit, and favoured by the fact that +Gonzaga's back was towards him, he saw that he was no more than in time. + +The courtier was bending down, and by the creaking sound that reached +him Ercole guessed his occupation to be the winding of the arbalest +string. On the table at his side lay a quarrel swathed in a sheet of +paper. + +Swiftly and silently Ercole moved round the tower, and the next instant +he had pushed open the unfastened door and entered. + +A scream of terror greeted him, and a very startled face was turned upon +him by Gonzaga, who instantly sprang upright. Then, seeing who it was, +the courtier's face reassumed some of its normal composure, but his +glance was uneasy and his cheek pale. + +"Sant Iddio!" he gasped. "You startled me, Ercole. I did not hear you +coming." + +And now something in the bully's face heightened the alarm in Gonzaga. +He still made an effort at self-control, as planting himself between +Ercole and the table, so as to screen the tell-tale shaft, he asked him +what he sought there. + +"That letter you have written Gian Maria," was the gruff, uncompromising +answer, for Ercole reeked nothing of diplomatic issues. + +Gonzaga's mouth jerked itself open, and his upper lip shuddered against +his teeth. + +"What---- Wha----" + +"Give me that letter," Ercole insisted, now advancing upon him, and +wearing an air of ferocity that drove back into Gonzaga's throat such +resentful words as he bethought him of. Then, like an animal at bay--and +even a rat will assert itself then--he swung aloft the heavy arbalest he +held, and stood barring Ercole's way. + +"Stand back!" he cried; "or by God and His saints, I'll beat your brains +out." + +There was a guttural laugh from the swashbuckler, and then his arms +were round Gonzaga's shapely waist, and the popinjay was lifted from his +feet. Viciously he brought down the cross-bow, as he had threatened; but +it smote the empty air. The next instant Gonzaga was hurtled, bruised, +into a corner of the tower. + +In a rage so great that he felt it draining him of his very strength +and choking the breath in his body, he made a movement to rise and fling +himself again upon his aggressor. But Fortemani was down upon him, and +for all his struggles contrived to turn him over on his face, twisting +his arms behind him, and making them fast with a belt that lay at hand. + +"Lie still, you scorpion!" growled the ruffler, breathing hard from his +exertions. He rose, took the shaft with the letter tied about it, read +the superscription--"To the High and Mighty Lord Gian Maria Sforza"--and +with a chuckle of mingled relish and scorn, he was gone, locking the +door. + +Left alone, Gonzaga lay face downward where he had been flung, able to +do little more than groan and sweat in the extremity of his despair, +whilst he awaited the coming of those who would probably make an end of +him. Not even from Valentina could he hope for mercy, so incriminating +was the note he had penned. His letter was to enjoin the Duke to hold +his men in readiness at the hour of the Angelus next morning, and to +wait until Gonzaga should wave a handkerchief from the battlements. At +that he was to advance immediately to the postern, which he would find +open, and the rest, Gonzaga promised him, would be easy. He would take +the whole garrison at their prayers and weaponless. + +When Francesco read it a light leapt to his eye and an oath to his +lips; but neither glance nor oath were of execration, as Ercole stood +expecting. A sudden idea flashed through the Count's mind, so strange +and humorous and yet so full of promise of easy accomplishment, that he +burst into a laugh. + +"Now may God bless this fool for the most opportune of traitors!" he +exclaimed, in surprise at which Fortemani's mouth fell open, and the +eyes of Peppe grew very round. + +"Ercole, my friend, here is a bait to trap that lout my cousin, such as +I could never have devised myself." + +"You mean----?" + +"Take it back to him," cried the Count, holding out the letter with a +hand that trembled in the eagerness of his spirit. "Take it back, and +get him by fair means or foul to shoot it as he intended; or if he +refuses, why, then, do you seal it up and shoot it yourself. But see +that it gets to Gian Maria!" + +"May I not know what you intend?" quoth the bewildered Ercole. + +"All in good time, my friend. First do my bidding with that letter. +Listen! It were best that having read it you agree to join him in his +betrayal of Roccaleone, your own fears as to the ultimate fate awaiting +you at Gian Maria's hands being aroused. Urge him to promise you money, +immunity, what you will, as your reward; but make him believe you +sincere, and induce him to shoot his precious bolt. Now go! Lose no +time, or they may be returning from chapel, and your opportunity will +be lost. Come to me here, afterwards, and I will tell you what is in my +mind. We shall have a busy night of it to-night, Ercole, and you must +set me free when the others are abed. Now go!" + +Ercole went, and Peppe, remaining, plagued the Count with questions +which he answered until in the end the fool caught the drift of his +scheme, and swore impudently that a greater jester than his Excellency +did not live. Then Ercole returned. + +"Is it done? Has the letter gone?" cried Francesco. Fortemani nodded. + +"We are sworn brothers in this business, he and I. He added a line to +his note to say that he had gained my cooperation, and that, therefore, +immunity was expected for me too." + +"You have done well, Ercole." Francesco applauded him. "Now return me +the letter I gave you for Monna Valentina. There is no longer the need +for it. But return to me to-night toward the fourth hour, when all are +abed, and bring with you my men, Lanciotto and Zaccaria." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. THE INTERRUPTED MASS + + +The morning of that Wednesday of Corpus Christi, fateful to all +concerned in this chronicle, dawned misty and grey, and the air was +chilled by the wind that blew from the sea. The chapel bell tinkled out +its summons, and the garrison trooped faithfully to Mass. + +Presently came Monna Valentina, followed by her ladies, her pages, and +lastly, Peppe, wearing under his thin mask of piety an air of eager +anxiety and unrest. Valentina was very pale, and round her eyes there +were dark circles that told of sleeplessness, and as she bowed her +head in prayer, her ladies observed that tears were falling on the +illuminated Mass-book over which she bent. And now came Fra Domenico +from the sacristy in the white chasuble that the Church ordains for the +Corpus Christi feast, followed by a page in a clerkly gown of black, and +the Mass commenced. + +There were absent only from the gathering Gonzaga and Fortemani, besides +a sentry and the three prisoners. Francesco and his two followers. + +Gonzaga had presented himself to Valentina with the plausible tale that, +as the events of which Fanfulla's letter had given them knowledge might +lead Gian Maria at any moment to desperate measures, it might be well +that he should reinforce the single man-at-arms patrolling the walls. +Valentina, little recking now whether the castle held or fell, and still +less such trifles as Gonzaga's attendance at Mass, had assented without +heeding the import of what he said. + +And so, his face drawn and his body quivering with the excitement of +what he was about to do, Gonzaga had repaired to the ramparts so soon +as he had seen them all safely into chapel. The sentinel was that same +clerkly youth Aventano, who had read to the soldiers that letter Gian +Maria had sent Gonzaga. This the courtier accepted as a good omen. If a +man there was among the soldiery at Roccaleone with whom he deemed that +he had an account to settle, that man was Aventano. + +The mist was rapidly lightening, and the country grew visible for miles +around. In the camp of Gian Maria he observed a coming and going of men +that argued an inordinate bustle for so early an hour. They awaited his +signal. + +He approached the young sentinel, growing more and more nervous as the +time for action advanced. He cursed Fortemani, who had selfishly refused +to take an active part in the admission of Gian Maria. Here was a task +that Fortemani could perform more satisfactorily than he. He had urged +this fact on Ercole's attention, but the swashbuckler had grinned and +shook his head. To Gonzaga fell the greater reward, and so Gonzaga must +do the greater work. It was only fair, the knave had urged; and +while Gonzaga was about it, he would watch the chapel door against +interruption. And so Gonzaga had been forced to come alone to try +conclusions with the sentry. + +He gave the young man a nervous but pleasant "Good-morrow," and observed +with satisfaction that he wore no body armour. His original intention +had been to attempt to suborn him, and render him pliable by bribery; +but now that the moment for action was arrived he dared not make the +offer. He lacked for words in which to present his proposal, and he was +afraid lest the man should resent it, and in a fit of indignation +attack him with his partisan. He little imagined that Aventano had been +forewarned by Ercole that a bribe would be offered him and that he +was to accept it promptly. Ercole had chosen this man because he was +intelligent, and had made him understand enough of what was toward, +besides offering a substantial reward if he played his part well, and +Aventano waited. But Gonzaga, knowing naught of this, abandoned at the +last moment the notion of bribing him--which Ercole had enjoined him, +and which he in his turn had promised Ercole was the course he would +pursue. + +"You seem cold, Excellency," said the young man deferentially, for he +had observed that Gonzaga shivered. + +"A chill morning, Aventano," returned the gallant, with a grin. + +"True; but the sun is breaking through yonder. It will be warmer soon." + +"Why, yes," answered the other abstractedly, and still he remained by +the sentinel, his hand, under the gay mantle of blue velvet, nervously +fingering the hilt of a dagger that he dared not draw. It came to him +that moments were passing, and that the thing must be done. Yet Aventano +was a sinewy youth, and if the sudden stab he meditated failed him, he +would be at the fellow's mercy. At the thought he shivered again, and +his face turned grey. He moved away a step, and then inspiration brought +him a cruel ruse. He uttered a cry. + +"What is that?" he exclaimed, his eyes on the ground. + +In an instant Aventano was beside him, for his voice had sounded +alarmed--a tone, in his present condition, not difficult to simulate. + +"What, Excellency?" + +"Down there," cried Gonzaga excitedly. "There from that fissure in the +stone. Saw you nothing?" And he pointed to the ground at a spot where +two slabs met. + +"I saw nothing, Illustrious." + +"It was like a flash of yellow light below there. What is under us here? +I'll swear there's treachery at work. Get down on your knees, and try if +anything is to be seen." + +With a wondering glance at the courtier's white, twitching face, the +unfortunate young man went down on all fours to do his bidding. After +all--poor fellow!--he was hardly intelligent as Fortemani opined. + +"There is nothing, Excellency," he said. "The plaster is cracked. +But---- Ah!" + +In a panic of haste Gonzaga had whipped the dagger from its sheath and +sunk it into the middle of Aventano's broad back. The fellow's arms slid +out, and with a long-drawn, gurgling sigh he sank down and stretched +himself horribly on the stones. + +In that instant the clouds parted overhead and the sun came out in a +blaze of golden glory. High above Gonzaga's head a lark burst into song. + +For a moment the assassin remained standing above the body of his victim +with head sunk between the shoulders like a man who expects a blow, his +face grey, his teeth chattering, and his mouth twitching hideously. A +shudder shook him. It was the first life he had taken, and that carrion +at his feet filled him with sickly horror. Not for a kingdom--not +to save his vile soul from the eternal damnation that act had earned +it--would he have dared stoop to pluck the dagger from the back of the +wretch he had murdered. With something like a scream he turned, and fled +in a panic from the spot. Panting with horror, yet subconsciously aware +of the work he had to do, he paused a moment to wave a kerchief, then +dashed down the steps to the postern. + +With trembling fingers he unlocked the door and set it wide to Gian +Maria's men, who, in answer to his signal, were now hurrying forward +with a bridge composed of pine trees, that they had hastily and roughly +put together during the previous day. This, with some efforts and more +noise than Gonzaga relished, was thrust across the moat. One of the men +crept across, and assisted Gonzaga to make fast his end. + +A moment later Gian Maria and Guidobaldo stood in the castle-yard, and +after them came almost every man of the five score that Gian Maria had +brought to that siege. This was what Francesco had confidently expected, +knowing that it was not his cousin's way to run any risks. + +The Duke of Babbiauo, whose face was disfigured by a bristling hedge of +reddish stubble--for in obedience to the vow he had made, he now carried +a fortnight's growth of beard on his round face--turned to Gonzaga. + +"Is all well?" he asked, in a friendly tone, whilst Guidobaldo +contemptuously eyed the popinjay. + +Gonzaga assured them that the whole thing had been effected without +disturbing the garrison at their prayers. Now that he deemed himself +well protected his usual serenity of manner returned. + +"You may felicitate yourself, Highness," he ventured to say, with a +grin, to Guidobaldo, "that you have reared your niece in devout ways." + +"Did you address me?" quoth the Duke of Urbino coldly. "I trust it may +not again be necessary." + +Before the look of loathing in his handsome face Gonzaga cringed. Gian +Maria laughed in his piping treble. + +"Have I not served your Highness faithfully?" fawned the gallant. + +"So has the meanest scullion in my kitchens, the lowliest groom in my +stables--and with more honour to himself," answered the proud Duke. "Yet +he does not go the length of jesting with me." His eye carried a menace +so eloquent that Gonzaga drew back, afraid; but Gian Maria clapped him +on the shoulder in a friendly manner. + +"Be of good heart, Judas," he laughed, his pale face a-grin, "I shall +find room for you in Babbiano, and work too, if you do it as well as +this. Come; the men are here now. Let us go forward whilst they are at +their prayers. But we must not disturb them," he added, more seriously. +"I will not be guilty of an impiety. We can lie in wait for them +without." + +He laughed gaily, for he seemed in a preposterously good humour, and +bidding Gonzaga lead the way he followed, with Guidobaldo at his side. +They crossed the courtyard, where his men were ranged, armed to the +teeth, and at the door of the archway leading to the inner court they +paused for Gonzaga to open it. + +A moment the gallant stood staring. Then he turned a face of +consternation on the Dukes. His knees shook visibly. + +"It is locked," he announced, in a husky voice. + +"We made too much noise in entering," suggested Guidobaldo, "and they +have taken the alarm." + +The explanation relieved the growing uneasiness in Gian Maria's mind. He +turned with an oath to his men. + +"Here, some of you," his sharp voice commanded. "Beat me down this door. +By the Host! Do the fools think to keep me out so easily?" + +The door was broken down, and they advanced. But only some half-dozen +paces, for at the end of that short gallery they found the second +door barring their progress. Through this, too, they broke, Gian Maria +fiercely blaspheming at the delay. Yet when it was done he was none so +eager to lead the way. + +In the second courtyard he deemed it extremely probable that they should +find Valentina's soldiers awaiting them. So bidding his men pass on, he +remained behind with Guidobaldo until he heard word that the inner court +was likewise empty. + +And now the entire hundred of his followers were assembled there +to overpower the twenty that served Monna Valentina; and +Guidobaldo--despite Gian Maria's scruples--strode coolly forward to the +chapel door. + + * * * * * + +Within the chapel Mass had started. Fra Domenico at the foot of the +altar had pattered through the Confiteor, his deep voice responded to +by the soprano of the ministering page. The Kyrie was being uttered when +the attention of the congregation was attracted by the sound of steps +approaching the chapel door to the accompaniment of an ominous clank of +steel. The men rose in a body, fearing treachery, and cursing--despite +the sanctity of the place--the circumstance that they were without +weapons. + +Then the door opened, and down the steps rang the armed heels of the +new-comers, so that every eye was turned upon them, including that +of Fra Domenico, who had pronounced the last "Christe eleison" in a +quavering voice. + +A gasp of relief, followed by an angry cry from Valentina, went up when +they recognised those that came. First stepped the Count of Aquila in +full armour, sword at side and dagger on hip, carrying his head-piece on +the crook of his left arm. Behind him towered the bulk of Fortemani, his +great face flushed with a strange excitement, a leather hacketon over +his steel cuirass, girt, too, with sword and dagger, and carrying his +shining morion in his hand. Last came Lanciotto and Zaccaria, both fully +equipped and armed at all points. + +"Who are you that come thus accoutred into God's House to interrupt the +holy Mass?" cried the bass voice of the friar. + +"Patience, good father," answered Francesco calmly, "The occasion is our +justification." + +"What does this mean, Fortemani?" demanded Valentina imperiously, her +eyes angrily set upon her captain, utterly ignoring the Count. "Do you +betray me too?" + +"It means, Madonna," answered the giant bluntly, "that your lap-dog, +Messer Gonzaga, is at this very moment admitting Gian Maria and his +forces to Roccaleone, by the postern." + +There was a hoarse cry from the men, which Francesco silenced by a wave +of his mailed hand. + +Valentina looked wildly at Fortemani, and then, as if drawn by a greater +will than her own, her eyes were forced to travel to the Count. He +instantly advanced, and bowed his head before her. + +"Madonna, this is no hour for explanations. Action is needed, and that +at once. I was wrong in not disclosing my identity to you before you +discovered it by such unfortunate means and with the assistance of the +only traitor Roccaleone has harboured, Romeo Gonzaga--who, as Fortemani +has just told you, is at this moment admitting my cousin and your uncle +to the castle. But that my object was ever other than to serve you, or +that I sought, as was represented to you, to turn this siege to my own +political profit, that, Madonna, I implore you in your own interests to +believe untrue." + +She sank on to her knees and with folded hands began to pray to the +Mother of Mercy, deeming herself lost, for his tone carried conviction, +and he had said that Gian Maria was entering the castle. + +"Madonna," he cried, touching her lightly on the shoulder; "let your +prayers wait until they can be of thanksgiving. Listen. By the vigilance +of Peppe there, who, good soul that he is, never lost faith in me or +deemed me a dastard, we were informed last night--Fortemani and I--of +this that Gonzaga was preparing. And we have made our plans and prepared +the ground. When Gian Maria's soldiers enter, they will find the outer +doors barred and locked, and we shall gain a little time while they +break through them. My men, as you will observe, are even now barring +the door of the chapel to impose a further obstacle. Now while they are +thus engaged we must act. Briefly, then, if you will trust us we will +bear you out of this, for we four have worked through the night to some +purpose." + +She looked at him through a film of tears, her face drawn and +startled. Then she put her hands to her brow in a gesture of bewildered +helplessness. + +"But they will follow us," she complained. + +"Not so," he answered, smiling. "For that, too, have we provided. Come, +Madonna, time presses." + +A long moment she looked at him. Then brushing aside the tears that +dimmed her sight, she set a hand on either of his shoulders, and stood +so, before them all, gazing up into his calm face. + +"How shall I know that what you say is true--that I may trust you?" +she asked, but her voice was not the voice of one that demands an +overwhelming proof ere she will believe. + +"By my honour and my knighthood," he answered, in a ringing voice, "I +make oath here, at the foot of God's altar, that my purpose--my only +purpose--has been, is, and shall be to serve you, Monna Valentina." + +"I believe you," she cried; to sob a moment later: + +"Forgive me, Francesco, and may God, too, forgive my lack of faith in +you." + +He softly breathed her name in such sweet accents that a happy peace +pervaded her, and the bright courage of yore shone in her brown eyes. + +"Come, sirs!" he cried now, with a sudden briskness that startled them +into feverish obedience. "You, Fra Domenico, cut off your sacerdotals, +and gird high your habit. There is climbing for you. Here, a couple of +you, move aside that altar-step. My men and I have spent the night in +loosening its old hinges." + +They raised the slab, and in the gap beneath it was disclosed a flight +of steps leading down to the dungeons and cellars of Roccaleone. + +Down this they went in haste but in good order, marshalled by Francesco, +and when the last had passed down, he and Lanciotto, aided by others +below, who had seized a rope that he had lowered them, replaced the slab +from underneath, so that no trace should remain of the way by which they +had come. + +A postern had been unbarred below by Fortemani, who had led the way with +a half-dozen of the men; and a huge scaling ladder that lay in readiness +in that subterranean gallery was rushed out across the moat, which at +this point was a roaring torrent. + +Fortemani was the first to descend that sloping bridge, and upon +reaching the ground he made fast the lower end. + +Next went a dozen men at Francesco's bidding, armed with the pikes +that had been left overnight in the gallery. At a word of command they +slipped quietly away. Then came the women, and lastly, the remainder of +the men. + +Of the enemy they caught no glimpse; not so much as a sentry, for every +one of Gian Maria's men had been pressed into the investment of the +castle. Thus they emerged from Roccaleone, and made their way down that +rough bridge into the pleasant meadows to the south. Already Fortemani +and his dozen men had disappeared at the trot, making for the front of +the castle, when Francesco stepped last upon the bridge, and closed the +postern after him. Then he glided rapidly to the ground, and with the +assistance of a dozen ready hands he dragged away the scaling ladder. +They carried it some yards from the brink of the torrent, and deposited +it in the meadow. With a laugh of purest relish Francesco stepped to +Valentina's side. + +"It will exercise their minds to discover how we got out," he cried, +"and they will be forced to the conclusion that we are angels all, with +wings beneath our armour. We have not left them a single ladder or a +strand of rope in Roccaleone by which to attempt to follow us, even if +they discover how we came. But come, Valentina mia, the comedy is not +finished yet. Already Fortemani will have removed the bridge by which +they entered and engaged such few men as may have been left behind, and +we have the High and Mighty Gian Maria in the tightest trap that was +ever fashioned." + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. THE CAPITULATION OF ROCCALEONE + + +In the sunshine of that bright May morning Francesco and his men went +merrily to work to possess themselves of the ducal camp, and the first +business of the day was to arm those soldiers who had come out unarmed. +Of weapons there was no lack, and to these they helped themselves +in liberal fashion, whilst here and there a man would pause to don a +haubergeon or press a steel cap on his head. + +Three sentries only had been left to guard the tents, and of these +Fortemani and a couple of his men had made prisoners whilst the others +were removing the bridge by which the invaders had entered. And now +beneath the open postern by the drawbridge gaped a surging torrent that +no man would have the hardihood to attempt to swim. + +In that opening, presently, appeared Gian Maria, his face red for +once, and behind him a clamouring crowd of men-at-arms who shared their +master's rage at the manner in which they had been trapped. + +At the rear of the tents Valentina and her ladies awaited the issue of +the parley that now seemed toward. The bulk of the men were busy at Gian +Maria's cannons, and under Francesco's supervision they were training +them upon the drawbridge. + +From the castle a mighty shout went up. The men disappeared from the +postern to reappear a moment later on the ramparts, and Francesco +laughed deep down in his throat as he perceived the purpose of this. +They had bethought them of the guns that were mounted there, and were +gone to use them against Valentina's little army. Gun after gun they +tried, and a fierce cry of rage burst forth when they realised by what +dummies they had been held in check during the past week. This was +followed by a silence of some moments, terminated at last by the sound +of a bugle. + +Answering that summons to a parley, and with a last word of injunction +to Fortemani, who was left in charge of the men at the guns, Francesco +rode forward on one of Gian Maria's horses, escorted by Lanciotto and +Zaccaria similarly mounted, and each armed with a loaded arquebuse. + +Under the walls of Roccaleone he drew rein, laughing to himself at this +monstrous change of sides. As he halted--helmet on head, but beaver +open--a body came hurtling over the battlements and splashed into the +foaming waters below. It was the corpse of Aventano, which Gian Maria +had peremptorily bidden them to remove from his sight. + +"I desire to speak with Monna Valentina della Rovere," cried the furious +Duke. + +"You may speak with me, Gian Maria," answered Francesco's voice, +clear and metallic. "I am her representative, her sometime Provost of +Roccaleone." + +"Who are you?" quoth the Duke, struck by a familiar note in that mocking +voice. + +"Francesco del Falco, Count of Aquila." + +"By God! You!" + +"An age of marvels, is it not?" laughed Francesco. + +"Which will you lose, my cousin--a wife or a duchy?" + +Rage struck Gian Maria speechless for a moment. Then he turned to +Guidobaldo and whispered something; but Guidobaldo, who seemed vastly +interested now in this knight below, merely shrugged his shoulders. + +"I will lose neither, Messer Francesco," roared the Duke. "Neither, by +God!" he screamed. "Neither, do you hear me?" + +"I should be deaf else," was the easy answer, "But you are gravely at +fault. One or the other you must relinquish, and it is yours to make a +choice between them. The game has gone against you, Gian Maria, and you +must pay." + +"But have I no voice in the bartering of my niece?" asked Guidobaldo, +with cold dignity. "Is it for you, Lord Count, to say whether your +cousin shall wed her or not?" + +"Why, no. He may wed her if he will, but he will be a duke no longer. In +fact, he will be an outcast with no title to lay claim to, if indeed the +Babbianians will leave him a head at all; whilst I, at least, though +not a duke with a tottering throne, am a count with lands, small +but securely held, and shall become a duke if Gian Maria refuses to +relinquish me your niece. So that if he be disposed to marry her, +will you be disposed to let her marry a homeless vagrant or a headless +corpse?" + +Guidobaldo's face seemed to change, and his eyes looked curiously at the +white-faced Duke beside him. + +"So you are the other pretender to my niece's hand, Lord Count?" he +asked, in his coldest voice. + +"I am, Highness," answered Francesco quietly. "The matter stands thus: +Unless Gian Maria is in Babbiano by morning, he forfeits his crown, and +it passes to me by the voice of the people; but if he will relinquish +his claim to Monna Valentina in my favour, then I shall journey straight +to Aquila, and I shall trouble Babbiano no more. If he refuses, and +insists upon this wedding, abhorrent to Monna Valentina, why, then, my +men shall hold him captive behind those walls until it be too late for +him to reach his duchy in time to save the crown. In the meantime I will +ride to Babbiano in his stead, and--reluctant though I be to play the +duke--I shall accept the throne and silence the people's importunities. +He can then endeavour to win your Highness's consent to the union." + +For perhaps the first time in his life Guidobaldo was guilty of an act +of positive discourtesy. He broke into a laugh--a boisterous, amused +laugh that cut into Gian Maria's heart like a knife. + +"Why, Lord Count," he said, "I confess that you have us very much in +your hands to mould us as you will. Now, you are such a soldier and such +a strategist as it would pleasure me to have about my person in Urbino. +What says your Highness?" he continued, turning now to the almost +speechless Gian Maria. "I have yet another niece with whom we might +cement the union of the two duchies; and she might prove more willing. +Women, it seems, will insist upon being women. Do you not think that +Monna Valentina and this your valiant cousin----" + +"Heed him not!" screamed Gian Maria, now in a white heat of passion. +"He is a smooth-tongued dog that would argue the very devil out of hell. +Make no terms with the hind! I have a hundred men, and----" He swung +suddenly round. "Let down that drawbridge, cowards!" he bawled at them, +"and sweep me those animals from my tents." + +"Gian Maria, I give you warning," cried Francesco, loudly and firmly. "I +have trained your own guns on to that bridge, and at the first attempt +to lower it I'll blow it into splinters. You come not out of Roccaleone +save at my pleasure and upon my terms, and if you lose your duchy by +your obstinacy, it will be your own work; but answer me now, that I may +take my course." + +Guidobaldo, too, restrained Gian Maria, and countermanded his order for +the lowering of the bridge. And now on his other side Gonzaga crept up +to him, and whispered into his ear the suggestion that he should wait +until night had fallen. + +"Wait until night, fool!" blazed the Duke, turning on him, in a fierce +joy at finding one whom he might rend. "If I wait until then, my throne +is lost to me. This comes of sorting with traitors. It is your fault, +you Judas!" he cried more fiercely still, his face distorted; "but you +at least shall pay for what you have done." + +Gonzaga saw a sudden flash of steel before his eyes, and a piercing +scream broke from him as Gian Maria's dagger buried itself in his +breast. Too late Guidobaldo put forward a hand to stay the Duke. + +And so, by a strangely avenging justice, the magnificent Gonzaga +sank dead on the very spot on which he had so cravenly and dastardly +poniarded Aventano. + +"Throw me that carrion into the moat," growled Gian Maria, still +quivering with rage that had prompted his ferocious act. + +He was obeyed, and thus murdered and murderer were united in a common +grave. + +After the first attempt to restrain Gian Maria, Guidobaldo had looked +on in unconcern, deeming the act a very fitting punishment of a man with +whose treachery he, at least, had never been in sympathy. + +As he saw the body vanish in the torrent below, Gian Maria seemed to +realise what he had done. His anger fell from him, and with bent head he +piously crossed himself. Then turning to an attendant who stood at his +elbow: + +"See that a Mass is said for his soul to-morrow," he solemnly bade him. + +As if the act had served to pacify him and restore him to his senses, +Gian Maria now stepped forward and asked his cousin, in calmer tones +than he had hitherto employed, to make clear the terms on which he would +permit him to return to Babbiano within the time to which his people +limited him. + +"They are no more than that you relinquish your claim to Monna +Valentina, and that you find consolation--as I think his Highness of +Urbino has himself suggested--in the Lord Guidobaldo's younger niece." + +Before he could reply Guidobaldo was urging him, in a low voice to +accept the terms. + +"What else is there for you?" Montefeltro ended pregnantly. + +"And this other niece of yours----?" quoth Gian Maria lamely. + +"I have already passed my word," answered Guidobaldo. + +"And Monna Valentina?" the other almost whined. + +"May wed this headstrong condottiero of hers. I'll not withstand them. +Come; I am your friend in this. I am even sacrificing Valentina to your +interests. For if you persist, he will ruin you. The game is his, my +lord. Acknowledge your defeat, as I acknowledge mine, and pay." + +"But what is your defeat to mine?" cried Gian Maria, who saw through +Guidobaldo's appreciation of the fact that such a nephew-in-law as +Francesco del Falco was far from undesirable in the troublous times that +threatened. + +"It is at least as absolute," returned Guidobaldo, with a shrug. And in +this vein the Duke of Urbino continued for some moments, till, in the +end, Gian Maria found himself not only deserted by his ally, but having +this ally now combating on his cousin's side and pressing him to accept +his cousin's terms, distasteful though they were. Thus urged, Gian Maria +lamely acknowledged his defeat and his willingness to pay the forfeit. +With that he asked how soon he might be permitted to leave the castle. + +"Why, at once, now that I have your word," answered Francesco readily, +whereat treachery gleamed from Gian Maria's eye, to be swiftly quenched +by Francesco's next words. "But lest your men and mine should come to +trouble with one another, you will order yours to come forth without +arms or armour, and you will depose your own. His Highness Guidobaldo is +the only man in whose favour I can make an exception to this condition. +Let it be broken, and I promise you that you will very bitterly regret +it. At sight of the first armed man issuing from those gates, I'll give +the word to fire on you, and your own guns shall work your destruction." + +Thus was the second siege of Roccaleone ended almost as soon as it was +begun, and thus did Gian Maria capitulate to the conqueror. The Duke of +Babbiano and his men marched out sheepishly and silently, and took their +way to Babbiano, no word--not even so much as a glance--passing between +Gian Maria and the lady who had been the cause of his discomfiture, and +who blithely looked on at his departure. + +Guidobaldo and his few attendants lingered after his late ally had gone. +Then he bade Francesco lead him to his niece, in which Francesco readily +obeyed him. + +The Duke embraced her coldly--still that he embraced her at all after +what was passed augured well. + +"You will come with me to Urbino, Lord Count?" he said suddenly to +Francesco. "It were best to celebrate the nuptials there. Everything is +in readiness--for all had been prepared for Gian Maria." + +A great joy came into Valentina's eyes; her cheeks flushed and her +glance fell; but Francesco scanned the Duke's face with the keen eye of +one who is incredulous of so much good fortune. + +"Your Highness means me well?" he made bold to ask. Guidobaldo +stiffened, and a frown broke the serenity of his lofty brow. + +"You have my princely word," he answered solemnly, at which, with bended +knee, Francesco stooped to kiss his ducal hand. + +And so they departed on the horses that they kept as the spoils of war. +They made a goodly show, Guidobaldo riding at their head, with Francesco +and Valentina, whilst the rear was brought up by Peppe and Fra Domenico, +who, touched by this epidemic of goodwill, were at last fraternising +with each other. + +And as they rode it chanced that presently Guidobaldo fell behind, +so that for a moment Francesco and Valentina found themselves alone a +little ahead of the others. She turned to him, a shyness in her brown +eyes, a tremble at the corners of her red lips: + +"You have not yet said that you forgive me, Francesco," she complained, +in a timerous whisper. "Were it not seemly that you did since we are to +be wed so soon?" + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Love-at-Arms, by Raphael Sabatini + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOVE-AT-ARMS *** + +***** This file should be named 3530-8.txt or 3530-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/3/3530/ + +Produced by John Stuart Middleton + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Love-at-Arms</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Rafael Sabatini</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Release Date: May 24, 2001 [eBook #3530]<br /> +[Most recently updated: January 27, 2021]</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: John Stuart Middleton, and David Widger</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOVE-AT-ARMS ***</div> + + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + LOVE-AT-ARMS + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + Being a narrative excerpted from the chronicles of Urbino during the<br /> + dominion of the High and Mighty Messer Guidobaldo da Montefeltro + </h3> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Rafael Sabatini + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Le donne, i cavalier', l'arme, gli amori, + Le cortesie, l'audace imprese io canto.” + + ARIOSTO + </pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> VOX POPULI + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> ON A + MOUNTAIN PATH <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a> SACKCLOTH + AND MOTLEY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a> MONNA + VALENTINA <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a> GIAN + MARIA <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a> THE + AMOROUS DUKE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a> GONZAGA + THE INSIDIOUS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a> AMONG + THE DREGS OF WINE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a> THE + “TRATTA DI CORDE” <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a> THE + BRAYING OF AN ASS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a> WANDERING + KNIGHTS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a> THE + FOOL'S INQUISITIVENESS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. + </a> GIAN MARIA MAKES A VOW <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014"> + CHAPTER XIV. </a> FORTEMANI DRINKS WATER <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a> THE MERCY OF FRANCESCO + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a> GONZAGA + UNMASKS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a> THE + ENEMY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. </a> TREACHERY + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a> PLOT + AND COUNTERPLOT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. </a> THE + LOVERS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a> THE + PENITENT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </a> A + REVELATION <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. </a> IN + THE ARMOURY TOWER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. </a> THE + INTERRUPTED MASS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. </a> THE + CAPITULATION OF ROCCALEONE <br /><br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. VOX POPULI + </h2> + <p> + From the valley, borne aloft on the wings of the evening breeze, rose + faintly the tolling of an Angelus bell, and in a goat-herd's hut on the + heights above stood six men with heads uncovered and bowed, obeying its + summons to evening prayer. A brass lamp, equipped with three beaks, swung + from the grimy ceiling, and, with more smoke than flame, shed an + indifferent light, and yet a more indifferent smell, throughout the + darkening hovel. But it sufficed at least to reveal in the accoutrements + and trappings of that company a richness that was the more striking by + contrast with the surrounding squalor. + </p> + <p> + As the last stroke of the Ave Maria faded on the wind that murmured + plaintively through the larches of the hillside, they piously crossed + themselves, and leisurely resuming their head-gear, they looked at one + another with questioning glances. Yet before any could voice the inquiry + that was in the minds of all, a knock fell upon the rotten timbers of the + door. + </p> + <p> + “At last!” exclaimed old Fabrizio da Lodi, in a voice charged with relief, + whilst a younger man of good shape and gay garments strode to the door in + obedience to Fabrizio's glance, and set it wide. + </p> + <p> + Across the threshold stepped a tall figure under a wide, featherless hat, + and wrapped in a cloak which he loosened as he entered, revealing the very + plainest of raiment beneath. A leather hacketon was tightened at the waist + by a girdle of hammered steel, from which depended on his left a long + sword with ringed, steel quillons, whilst from behind his right hip peeped + the hilt of a stout Pistoja dagger. His hose of red cloth vanished into + boots of untanned leather, laced in front and turned down at the knees, + and completed in him the general appearance of a mercenary in time of + peace, in spite of which the six nobles, in that place of paradoxes, bared + their heads anew, and stood in attitudes of deferential attention. + </p> + <p> + He paused a moment to throw off his cloak, of which the young man who had + admitted him hastened to relieve him as readily as if he had been born a + servitor. He next removed his hat, and allowed it to remain slung from his + shoulders, displaying, together with a still youthful countenance of + surpassing strength and nobility, a mane of jet-black hair coiffed in a + broad net of gold thread—the only article of apparel that might have + suggested his station to be higher than at first had seemed. + </p> + <p> + He stepped briskly to the coarse and grease-stained table, about which the + company was standing, and his black eyes ran swiftly over the faces that + confronted him. + </p> + <p> + “Sirs,” he said at last, “I am here. My horse went lame a half-league + beyond Sant' Angelo, and I was constrained to end the journey on foot.” + </p> + <p> + “Your Excellency will be tired,” cried Fabrizio, with that ready + solicitude which is ever at the orders of the great. “A cup of Puglia + wine, my lord. Here, Fanfulla,” he called, to the young nobleman who had + acted as usher. But the new-comer silenced him and put the matter aside + with a gesture. + </p> + <p> + “Let that wait. Time imports as you little dream. It may well be, + illustrious sirs, that had I not come thus I had not come at all.” + </p> + <p> + “How?” cried one, expressing the wonder that rose in every mind, even as + on every countenance some consternation showed. “Are we betrayed?” + </p> + <p> + “If you are in case to fear betrayal, it may well be, my friends. As I + crossed the bridge over the Metauro and took the path that leads hither, + my eyes were caught by a crimson light shining from a tangle of bushes by + the roadside. That crimson flame was a reflection of the setting sun + flashed from the steel cap of a hidden watcher. The path took me nearer, + and with my hat so set that it might best conceal my face, I was all eyes. + And as I passed the spot where that spy was ambushed, I discerned among + the leaves that might so well have screened him, but that the sun had + found his helmet out, the evil face of Masuccio Torri.” There was a stir + among the listeners, and their consternation increased, whilst one or two + changed colour. “For whom did he wait? That was the question that I asked + myself, and I found the answer that it was for me. If I was right, he must + also know the distance I had come, so that he would not look to see me + afoot, nor yet, perhaps, in garments such as these. And so, thanks to all + this and to the hat and cloak in which I closely masked myself, he let me + pass unchallenged.” + </p> + <p> + “By the Virgin!” exclaimed Fabrizio hotly, “I'll swear your conclusions + were wrong. In all Italy it was known to no man beyond us six that you + were to meet us here, and with my hand upon the Gospels I could swear that + not one of us has breathed of it.” + </p> + <p> + He looked round at his companions as if inviting them to bear out his + words, and they were not slow to confirm what he had sworn, in terms as + vehement as his own, until in the end the new-comer waved them into + silence. + </p> + <p> + “Nor have I breathed it,” he assured them, “for I respected your + injunction, Messer Fabrizio. Still—what did Masuccio there, hidden + like a thief, by the roadside? Sirs,” he continued, in a slightly altered + tone, “I know not to what end you have bidden me hither, but if aught of + treason lurks in your designs, I cry you beware! The Duke has knowledge of + it, or at least, suspicion. If that spy was not set to watch for me, why, + then, he was set to watch for all, that he may anon inform his master what + men were present at this meeting.” + </p> + <p> + Fabrizio shrugged his shoulders in a contemptuous indifference which was + voiced by his neighbour Ferrabraccio. + </p> + <p> + “Let him be informed,” sneered the latter, a grim smile upon his rugged + face. “The knowledge will come to him too late.” + </p> + <p> + The new-comer threw back his head, and a look that was half wonder, half + enlightenment gleamed in the black depths of his imperious eyes. He took a + deep breath. + </p> + <p> + “It would seem, sirs, that I was right,” said he, with a touch of + sternness, “and that treason is indeed your business.” + </p> + <p> + “My Lord of Aquila,” Fabrizio answered him, “we are traitors to a man that + we may remain faithful and loyal to a State.” + </p> + <p> + “What State?” barked the Lord of Aquila contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + “The Duchy of Babbiano,” came the answer. + </p> + <p> + “You would be false to the Duke that you may be faithful to the Duchy?” he + questioned, scorn running ever stronger in his voice. “Sirs, it is a + riddle I'll not pretend to solve.” + </p> + <p> + There fell a pause in which they eyed one another, and their glances were + almost as the glances of baffled men. They had not looked for such a tone + from him, and they questioned with their eyes and minds the wisdom of + going further. At last, with a half-sigh, Fabrizio da Lodi turned once + more to Aquila. + </p> + <p> + “Lord Count,” he began, in a calm, impressive voice, “I am an old man; the + name I bear and the family from which I spring are honourable alike. You + cannot think so vilely of me as to opine that in my old age I should do + aught to smirch the fair fame of the one or of the other. To be named a + traitor, sir, is to be given a harsh title, and one, I think, that could + fit no man less than it fits me or any of these my companions. Will you do + me the honour, then, to hear me out, Excellency; and when you have heard + me, judge us. Nay, more than judgment we ask of you, Lord Count. We ask + for guidance that we may save our country from the ruin that threatens it, + and we promise you that we will take no step that has not your sanction—that + is not urged by you.” + </p> + <p> + Francesco del Falco, Count of Aquila, eyed the old noble with a glance + that had changed whilst he spoke, so that from scornful that it had been, + it had now grown full of mild wonder and inquiry. He slightly inclined his + head in token of acquiescence. + </p> + <p> + “I beg that you will speak,” was all he said, and Fabrizio would forthwith + have spoken but that Ferrabraccio intervened to demand that Aquila should + pass them his knightly word not to betray them in the event of his + rejection of the proposals they had to make. When he had given them his + promise, and they had seated themselves upon such rude stools as the place + afforded, Fabrizio resumed his office of spokesman, and unfolded the + business upon which he had invited the Count among them. + </p> + <p> + In a brief preamble he touched upon the character of Gian Maria Sforza, + the reigning Duke of Babbiano—seated upon its throne by his powerful + uncle, Lodovico Sforza, Lord of Milan. He exposed the man's reckless + extravagances, his continued self-indulgence, his carelessness in matters + of statecraft, and his apparent disinclination to fulfil the duties which + his high station imposed upon him. On all this Fabrizio touched with most + commendable discretion and restraint, as was demanded by the circumstance + that in Francesco del Falco he was addressing the Duke's own cousin. + </p> + <p> + “So far, Excellency,” he continued, “you cannot be in ignorance of the + general dissatisfaction prevailing among our most illustrious cousin's + subjects. There was the conspiracy of Bacolino, a year ago, which, had it + succeeded, would have cast us into the hands of Florence. It failed, but + another such might not fail again. The increased disfavour of his Highness + may bring more adherents to a fresh conspiracy of this character, and we + should be lost as an independent state. And the peril that menaces us is + the peril of being so lost. Not only by defection of our own, but by the + force of arms of another. That other is Caesar Borgia. His dominion is + spreading like a plague upon the face of this Italy, which he has + threatened to eat up like an artichoke—leaf by leaf. Already his + greedy eyes are turned upon us, and what power have we—all unready + as we are—wherewith successfully to oppose the overwhelming might of + the Duke of Valentinois? All this his Highness realises, for we have made + it more than clear to him, as we have, too, made clear the remedy. Yet + does he seem as indifferent to his danger as to his salvation. His time is + spent in orgies, in dancing, in hawking and in shameful dalliance, and if + we dare throw out a word of warning, threats and curses are the only + answer we receive.” + </p> + <p> + Da Lodi paused, as if growing conscious that his manner was becoming + over-vehement. But of this, his companions, at least, were all + unconscious, for they filled the pause with a murmur of angry + confirmation. Francesco wrinkled his brow, and sighed. + </p> + <p> + “I am—alas!—most fully conscious of this danger you speak of. + But—what do you expect of me? Why bear me your grievance? I am no + statesman.” + </p> + <p> + “Here is no statesman needed, lord. It is a soldier Babbiano requires; a + martial spirit to organise an army against the invasion that must come—that + is coming already. In short, Lord Count, we need such a warrior as are + you. What man is there in all Italy—or, indeed, what woman or what + child—that has not heard of the prowess of the Lord of Aquila? Your + knightly deeds in the wars 'twixt Pisa and Florence, your feats of arms + and generalship in the service of the Venetians, are matters for the + making of epic song.” + </p> + <p> + “Messer Fabrizio!” murmured Paolo, seeking to restrain his eulogistic + interlocutor, what time a faint tinge crept into his bronzed cheeks. But + Da Lodi continued, all unheeding: + </p> + <p> + “And shall you, my lord, who have borne yourself so valiantly as a + condottiero in the service of the stranger, hesitate to employ your skill + and valour against the enemies of your own homeland? Not so, Excellency. + We know the patriotic soul of Francesco del Falco, and we count upon it.” + </p> + <p> + “And you do well,” he answered firmly. “When the time comes you shall find + me ready. But until then, and touching such preparation as must be made—why + do you not address his Highness as you do me?” + </p> + <p> + A sad smile crossed the noble face of Lodi, whilst Ferrabraccio laughed + outright in chill contempt, and with characteristic roughness made answer: + </p> + <p> + “Shall we speak to him,” he cried, “of knightly deeds, of prowess, and of + valour? I would as lief enjoin Roderigo Borgia to fulfil the sacred duties + of his Vicarship; I might as profitably sprinkle incense on a dunghill. + What we could say to Gian Maria we have said, and since it had been idle + to have appealed to him as we have appealed to you, we have shown him yet + another way by which Babbiano might be saved and Valentino's onslaught + averted.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! And this other way?” inquired the Count, his glance wandering back to + Fabrizio. + </p> + <p> + “An alliance with the house of Urbino,” answered Lodi. “Guidobaldo has two + nieces. We have sounded him, and we have found him well disposed towards + such a marriage as we suggested. Allied thus to the house of Montefeltro, + we should receive not only assistance from Guidobaldo, but also from the + lords of Bologna, Perugia, Camerino, and some smaller states whose + fortunes are linked already to that of Urbino. Thus we should present to + Cesar Borgia a coalition so strong that he would never dare to bring a + lance into our territory.” + </p> + <p> + “I heard some talk of it,” said Paolo. “It would have been a wise step + indeed. Pity that the negotiations came to naught!” + </p> + <p> + “But why did they come to naught? Body of Satan!—why?” roared the + impetuous Ferrabraccio, as with his mighty fist he smote the table a blow + that well-nigh shattered it. “Because Gian Maria was not in a marrying + mood! The girl we proposed to him was beautiful as an angel; but he would + not so much as look. There was a woman in Babbiano who——” + </p> + <p> + “My lord,” cut in Fabrizio hastily, fearing the lengths to which the other + might go, “it is as Ferrabraccio says. His Highness would not marry. And + this it is has led us to invite you to meet us here to-night. His Highness + will do nothing to save the Duchy, and so we turn to you. The people are + with us; in every street of Babbiano are you spoken of openly as the duke + they would have govern them and defend their homes. In the sacred name of + the people, then,” the old man concluded, rising, and speaking in a voice + shaken by emotion, “and with the people's voice, of which we are but the + mouthpiece, we now offer you the crown of Babbiano. Return with us + to-night, my lord, and to-morrow, with but twenty spears for escort, we + shall ride into Babbiano and proclaim you Duke. Nor need you fear the + slightest opposition. One man only of Babbiano—that same Masuccio + whom you tell us that you saw to-night—remains faithful to Gian + Maria; faithful because he and the fifty Swiss mercenaries at his heels + are paid to be so. Up, my lord! Let your own good sense tell you whether + an honest man need scruple to depose a prince whose throne knows no + defence beyond the hired protection of fifty foreign spears.” + </p> + <p> + A silence followed that impassioned speech. Lodi remained standing, the + others sat, their eager glances turned upon the Count, their ears + anxiously alert for his reply. Thus they remained for a brief spell, + Aquila himself so still that he scarcely seemed to breathe. + </p> + <p> + He sat, gripping the arms of his chair, his head fallen forward until his + chin rested on his breast, a frown darkening his lofty brow. And whilst + they waited for his answer, a mighty battle was fought out within his + soul. The power so suddenly, so unexpectedly, thrust within his reach, and + offered him if he would but open his hands to grasp it, dazzled him for + one little moment. As in a flash he saw himself Lord of Babbiano. He + beheld a proud career of knightly deeds that should cause his name and + that of Babbiano to ring throughout the length and breadth of Italy. From + the obscure state that it was, his patriotism and his skill as a + condottiero should render it one of the great Italian powers—the + rival of Florence, of Venice or Milan. He had a vision of widened + territories, and of neighbouring lords becoming vassals to his might. He + saw himself wresting Romagna mile by mile from the sway of the ribald + Borgia, hunting him to the death as he was wont to hunt the boar in the + marshes of Commachio, or driving him into the very Vatican to seek shelter + within his father's gates—the last strip of soil that he would leave + him to lord it over. He dreamt of a Babbiano courted by the great + republics, and the honour of its alliance craved by them that they might + withstand the onslaughts of French and Spaniard. All this he saw in that + fleeting vision of his, and Temptation caught his martial spirit in a grip + of steel. And then another picture rose before his eyes. What would he do + in times of peace? His was a soul that pined in palaces. He was born to + the camp, and not to the vapid air of courts. In exchange for this power + that was offered him what must he give? His glorious liberty. Become their + lord in many things, to be their slave in more. Nominally to rule, but + actually to be ruled, until, should he fail to do his rulers' will, there + would be some night another meeting such as this, in which men would plot + to encompass his downfall and to supplant him as he was invited to + supplant Gian Maria. Lastly, he bethought him of the man whose power he + was bidden to usurp. His own cousin, his father's sister's son, in whose + veins ran the same blood as in his own. + </p> + <p> + He raised his head at last, and met those anxious faces on which the + fitful light was casting harsh shadows. The pale ghost of a smile hovered + for a second on the corners of his stern mouth. + </p> + <p> + “I thank you, sirs, for the honour you have done me,” he made answer + slowly, “an honour of which I fear I am all unworthy.” + </p> + <p> + In strenuous chorus their voices rose to contradict him. + </p> + <p> + “At least, then, an honour which I cannot accept.” + </p> + <p> + There was a moment's silence, and their faces from eager that they had + been, grew downcast to the point of sullenness. + </p> + <p> + “But why, my lord?” cried old Fabrizio at last, his arms outstretched + towards the Count, his voice quivering with intensity. “Santissima + Vergine! Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because—to give you but one reason out of many—the man you + ask me to overthrow and supplant is of my own blood.” And but that his + tone was calm they might have held that he rebuked them. + </p> + <p> + “I had thought,” hazarded seriously the gay Fanfulla, “that with such a + man as your Excellency, patriotism and the love of Babbiano would have + weighed even more than the ties of blood.” + </p> + <p> + “And you had thought well, Fanfulla. Did I not say that the reason I gave + you was but one of many? Tell me, sirs, what cause have you to believe + that I should rule you wisely and well? It so chances that in the crisis + now threatening Babbiano a captain is needed for its ruler. But let not + this delude you, for there may come a season in the fortunes of the State + when such a man might be as unfitted for dominion as is the present Duke + in this. What then? A good knight-errant is an indifferent courtier and a + bad statesman. Lastly, my friends—since you must know all that is in + my heart—there remains the fact that I love myself a little. I love + my liberty too well, and I have no mind to stifle in the scented + atmosphere of courts. You see I am frank with you. It is my pleasure to + roam the world, my harness on my back, free as the blessed wind of heaven. + Shall a ducal crown and a cloak of purple——” He broke off + sharply with a laugh. “There, my friends! You have had reasons and to + spare. Again I thank you, and deplore that being such as I am, I may not + become such as you would have me.” + </p> + <p> + He sank back in his chair, eyeing them with a glance never so wistful, and + after a second's silence, Da Lodi's voice implored him, in accents that + trembled with pathetic emphasis, to reconsider his resolve. The old man + would have proceeded to fresh argument, but Aquila cut him short. + </p> + <p> + “I have already so well considered it, Messer Fabrizio,” he answered + resolutely, “that nothing now could sway me. But this, sirs, I will + promise you: I will ride with you to Babbiano, and I will seek to reason + with my cousin. More will I do; I will seek at his hands the office of + Gonfalonier, and if he grant it me; I will so reorganise our forces, and + enter into such alliances with our neighbours as shall ensure, at least in + some degree, the safety of our State.” + </p> + <p> + Still they endeavoured to cajole him, but he held firm against their + efforts, until in the end, with a sorrowful mien, Da Lodi thanked him for + his promise to use his influence with Gian Maria. + </p> + <p> + “For this, at least, we thank your Excellency, and on our part we shall + exert such power as we still wield in Babbiano to the end that the high + office of Gonfalonier be conferred upon you. We had preferred to see you + fill with honour a position higher still, and should you later come to + consider——” + </p> + <p> + “Dismiss your hopes of that,” put in the Count, with a solemn shake of his + head. And then, before another word was uttered, young Fanfulla degli + Arcipreti leapt of a sudden to his feet, his brows knit, and an expression + of alarm spreading upon his comely face. A second he remained thus; then, + going swiftly to the door, he opened it, and stood listening, followed by + the surprised glances of the assembled company. But it needed not the + warning cry with which he turned, to afford them the explanation of his + odd behaviour. In the moment's tense silence that had followed his sudden + opening of the door they had caught from without the distant fall of + marching feet. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. ON A MOUNTAIN PATH + </h2> + <p> + “Armed men, my lords!” had been Fanfulla's cry. “We are betrayed!” + </p> + <p> + They looked at one another with stern eyes, and with that grimness that + takes the place which fear would hold in meaner souls. + </p> + <p> + Then Aquila rose slowly to his feet, and with him rose the others, looking + to their weapons. He softly breathed a name—“Masuccio Torri.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye,” cried Lodi bitterly, “would that we had heeded your warning! + Masuccio it will be, and at his heels his fifty mercenaries.” + </p> + <p> + “Not less, I'll swear, by the sound of them,” said Ferrabraccio. “And we + but six, without our harness.” + </p> + <p> + “Seven,” the Count laconically amended, resuming his hat and loosening his + sword in its scabbard. + </p> + <p> + “Not so, my lord,” exclaimed Lodi, laying a hand upon the Count's arm. + “You must not stay with us. You are our only hope—the only hope of + Babbiano. If we are indeed betrayed—though by what infernal means I + know not—and they have knowledge that six traitors met here to-night + to conspire against the throne of Gian Maria, at least, I'll swear, it is + not known that you were to have met us. His Highness may conjecture, but + he cannot know for sure, and if you but escape, all may yet he well—saving + with us, who matter not. Go, my lord! Remember your promise to seek at + your cousin's hand the gonfalon, and may God and His blessed Saints + prosper your Excellency.” + </p> + <p> + The old man caught the young man's hand, and bending his head until his + face was hidden in his long white hair, he imprinted a kiss of fealty upon + it. But Aquila was not so easily to be dismissed. + </p> + <p> + “Where are your horses?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Tethered at the back. But who would dare ride them at night adown this + precipice?” + </p> + <p> + “I dare for one,” answered the young man steadily, “and so shall you all + dare. A broken neck is the worst that can befall us, and I would as lief + break mine on the rocks of Sant' Angelo as have it broken by the + executioner of Babbiano.” + </p> + <p> + “Bravely said, by the Virgin!” roared Ferrabraccio. “To horse, sirs!” + </p> + <p> + “But the only way is the way by which they come,” Fanfulla remonstrated. + “The rest is sheer cliff.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, then, my sweet seducer, we'll go to meet them,” rejoined + Ferrabraccio gaily. “They are on foot, and we'll sweep over them like a + mountain torrent. Come, sirs, hasten! They draw nigh.” + </p> + <p> + “We have but six horses, and we are seven,” another objected. + </p> + <p> + “I have no horse,” said Francesco, “I'll follow you afoot.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” cried Ferrabraccio, who seemed now to have assumed command of the + enterprise. “Let our St. Michael bring up the rear! No, no. You, Da Lodi, + you are too old for this work.” + </p> + <p> + “Too old?” blazed the old man, drawing himself up to the full height of + what was still a very imposing figure, and his eyes seeming to take fire + at this reflection upon his knightly worth. “Were the season other, + Ferrabraccio, I could crave leave to show you how much of youth there is + still left in me. But——” He paused. His angry eyes had + alighted upon the Count, who stood waiting by the door, and the whole + expression of his countenance changed. “You are right, Ferrabraccio, I + grow old indeed—a dotard. Take you my horse, and begone.” + </p> + <p> + “But you?” quoth the Count solicitously. + </p> + <p> + “I shall remain. If you do your duty well by those hirelings they will not + trouble me. It will not occur to them that one was left behind. They will + think only of following you after you have cut through them. Go, go, sirs, + or all is lost.” + </p> + <p> + They obeyed him now with a rush that seemed almost to partake of panic. In + a frenzied haste Fanfulla and another tore the tetherings loose, and a + moment later they were all mounted and ready for that fearful ride. The + night was dark, yet not too dark. The sky was cloudless and thickly + starred, whilst a minguant moon helped to illumine the way by which they + were to go. But on that broken and uncertain mountain path the shadows lay + thickly enough to make their venture desperate. + </p> + <p> + Ferrabraccio claiming a better knowledge than his comrades of the way, + placed himself at their head, with the Count beside him. Behind them, two + by two, came the four others. They stood on a small ledge in the shadow of + the great cliff that loomed on their left. Thence the mountain-side might + be scanned—as well as in such a light it was to be discerned. The + tramp of feet had now grown louder and nearer, and with it came the clank + of armour. In front of them lay the path which sloped, for a hundred yards + or more, to the first corner. Below them, on the right, the path again + appeared at the point where it jutted out for some half-dozen yards in its + zigzag course, and there Fanfulla caught the gleam of steel, reflecting + the feeble moonlight. He drew Ferrabraccio's attention to it, and that + stout warrior at once gave the word to start. But Francesco interposed. + </p> + <p> + “If we do so,” he objected, “we shall come upon them past the corner, and + at that corner we shall be forced to slacken speed to avoid being carried + over the edge of the cliff. Besides, in such a strait our horses may fail + us, and refuse the ground. In any event, we shall not descend upon them + with the same force as we shall carry if we wait until they come into a + straight line with us. The shadows here will screen us from them + meanwhile.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right, Lord Count. We will wait,” was the ready answer. And what + time they waited he grumbled lustily. + </p> + <p> + “To be caught in such a trap as this! Body of Satan! It was a madness to + have met in a hut with but one approach.” + </p> + <p> + “We might perhaps have retreated down the cliff behind,” said Francesco. + </p> + <p> + “We might indeed—had we been sparrows or mountain cats. But being + men, the way we go is the only way—and a mighty bad way it is. I + should like to be buried at Sant' Angelo, Lord Count,” he continued + whimsically. “It will be conveniently near; for once I go over the + mountain-side, I'll swear naught will stop me until I reach the valley—a + parcel of broken bones.” + </p> + <p> + “Steady, my friends,” murmured the voice of Aquila. “They come.” + </p> + <p> + And round that fateful corner they were now swinging into view—a + company in steel heads and bodies with partisan on shoulder. A moment they + halted now, so that the waiting party almost deemed itself observed. But + it soon became clear that the halt was to the end that the stragglers + might come up. Masuccio was a man who took no chances; every knave of his + fifty would he have before he ventured the assault. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” murmured the Count, tightening his hat upon his brow, so that it + might the better mask his features. Then rising in his stirrups, and + raising his sword on high, he let his voice be heard again. But no longer + in a whisper. Like a trumpet-call it rang, echoed and re-echoed up the + mountain-side. + </p> + <p> + “Forward! St. Michael and the Virgin!” + </p> + <p> + That mighty shout, followed as it was by a thunder of hooves, gave pause + to the advancing mercenaries. Masuccio's voice was heard, calling to them + to stand firm; bidding them kneel and ward the charge with their pikes; + assuring them with curses that they had but to deal with half-dozen men. + But the mountain echoes were delusive, and that thunder of descending + hooves seemed to them not of a half-dozen but of a regiment. Despite + Masuccio's imprecations the foremost turned, and in that moment the riders + were upon them, through them and over them, like the mighty torrent of + which Ferrabraccio had spoken. + </p> + <p> + A dozen Swiss went down beneath that onslaught, and another dozen that had + been swept aside and over the precipice were half-way to the valley before + that cavalcade met any check. Masuccio's remaining men strove lustily to + stem this human cataract, now that they realised how small was the number + of their assailants. They got their partisans to work, and for a few + moments the battle raged hot upon that narrow way. The air was charged + with the grind and ring of steel, the stamping of men and horses and the + shrieks and curses of the maimed. + </p> + <p> + The Lord of Aquila, ever foremost, fought desperately on. Not only with + his sword fought he, but with his horse as well. Rearing the beast on its + hind legs, he would swing it round and let it descend where least it was + expected, laying about him with his sword at the same time. In vain they + sought to bring down his charger with their pikes; so swift and furious + was his action, that before their design could be accomplished, he was + upon those that meditated it, scattering them out of reach to save their + skins. + </p> + <p> + In this ferocious manner he cleared a way before him, and luck served him + so well that what blows were wildly aimed at him as he dashed by went wide + of striking him. At last he was all but through the press, and but three + men now fronted him. Again his charger reared, snorting, and pawing the + air like a cat, and two of the three knaves before him fled incontinently + aside. But the third, who was of braver stuff, dropped on one knee and + presented his pike at the horse's belly. Francesco made a wild attempt to + save the roan that had served him so gallantly, but he was too late. It + came down to impale itself upon that waiting partisan. With a hideous + scream the horse sank upon its slayer, crushing him beneath its mighty + weight, and hurling its rider forward on to the ground. In an instant he + was up and had turned, for all that he was half-stunned by his fall and + weakened by the loss of blood from a pike-thrust in the shoulder—of + which he had hitherto remained unconscious in the heat of battle. Two + mercenaries were bearing down upon him—the same two that had been + the last to fall back before him. He braced himself to meet them, thinking + that his last hour was indeed come, when Fanfulla degli Arcipreti, who had + followed him closely through the press, now descended upon his assailants + from behind, and rode them down. Beside the Count he reined up, and + stretched down his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Mount behind me, Excellency,” he urged him. + </p> + <p> + “There is not time,” answered Francesco, who discerned a half-dozen + figures hurrying towards them. “I will cling to your stirrup-leather, + thus. Now spur!” And without waiting for Fanfulla to obey him, he caught + the horse a blow with the flat of his sword across the hams, which sent it + bounding forward. Thus they continued now that perilous descent, Fanfulla + riding, and the Count half-running, half-swinging from his stirrup. At + last, when they had covered a half-mile in this fashion, and the going had + grown easier, they halted that the Count might mount behind his companion, + and as they now rode along at an easier pace Francesco realised that he + and Fanfulla were the only two that had come through that ugly place. The + gallant Ferrabraccio, hero of a hundred strenuous battles, had gone to the + ignoble doom which half in jest he had prophesied himself. His horse had + played him false at the outset of the charge, and taking fright it had + veered aside despite his efforts to control it, until, losing its + foothold, man and beast had gone hurtling over the cliff. Amerini, + Fanfulla had seen slain, whilst the remaining two, being both unhorsed, + would doubtless be the prisoners of Masuccio. + </p> + <p> + Some three miles beyond Sant' Angelo, Fanfulla's weary horse splashed + across a ford of the Metauro, and thus, towards the second hour of night, + they gained the territory of Urbino, where for the time they might hold + themselves safe from all pursuit. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. SACKCLOTH AND MOTLEY + </h2> + <p> + The fool and the friar had fallen a-quarrelling, and—to the shame of + the friar and the glory of the fool be it spoken—their subject of + contention was a woman. Now the friar, finding himself no match for the + fool in words, and being as broad and stout of girth and limb as the other + was puny and misshapen, he had plucked off his sandal that with it he + might drive the full force of his arguments through the jester's skull. At + that the fool, being a very coward, had fled incontinently through the + trees. + </p> + <p> + Running, like the fool he was, with his head turned to learn whether the + good father followed him, he never saw the figure that lay half-hidden in + the bracken, and might never have guessed its presence but that tripping + over it he shot forward, with a tinkle of bells, on to his crooked nose. + </p> + <p> + He sat up with a groan, which was answered by an oath from the man into + whose sides he had dug his flying feet. The two looked at one another in + surprise, tempered with anger in the one and dismay in the other. + </p> + <p> + “A good awakening to you, noble sir,” quoth the fool politely; for by the + mien and inches of the man he had roused, he thought that courtesy might + serve him best. + </p> + <p> + The other eyed him with interest, as well he might; for an odder figure it + would be hard to find in Italy. + </p> + <p> + Hunched of back, under-sized, and fragile of limb, he was arrayed in + doublet, hose and hood, the half of which was black the other crimson, + whilst on his shoulders fell from that same hood—which tightly + framed his ugly little face—a foliated cape, from every point of + which there hung a tiny silver bell that glimmered in the sunlight, and + tinkled as he moved. From under bulging brows a pair of bright eyes, set + wide as an owl's, took up the mischievous humour of his prodigious mouth. + </p> + <p> + “A curse on you and him that sent you,” was the answering greeting he + received. Then the man checked his anger and broke into a laugh at sight + of the fear that sprang into the jester's eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I crave your pardon—most humbly do I crave it, Illustrious,” said + the fool, still in fear. “I was pursued.” + </p> + <p> + “Pursued?” echoed the other, in a tone not free from a sudden uneasiness. + “And, pray, by whom?” + </p> + <p> + “By the very fiend, disguised in the gross flesh and semblance of a + Dominican brother.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you jest?” came the angry question. + </p> + <p> + “Jest? Had you caught his villainous sandal between your shoulders, as did + I, you would know how little I have a mind to jest.” + </p> + <p> + “Now answer me a plain question, if you have the wit to answer with,” + quoth the other, anger ever rising in his voice. “Is there hereabouts a + monk?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, is there—may a foul plague rot him!—lurking in the + bushes yonder. He is over-fat to run, or you had seen him at my heels, + arrayed in that panoply of avenging wrath that is the cognisance of the + Church Militant.” + </p> + <p> + “Go bring him hither,” was the short answer. + </p> + <p> + “GesĂą!” gasped the fool, in very real affright. “I'll not go near him till + his anger cools—not if you made me straight and bribed me with the + Patrimony of St. Peter.” + </p> + <p> + The man turned from him impatiently, and rising his voice: + </p> + <p> + “Fanfulla!” he called over his shoulder, and then, after a moment's pause, + again: “Olá, Fanfulla!” + </p> + <p> + “I am here, my lord,” came an answering voice from behind a clump of + bushes on their right, and almost immediately the very splendid youth who + had gone to sleep in its shadow stood up and came round to them. At sight + of the fool he paused to take stock of him, what time the fool returned + the compliment with wonder-stricken interest. For however much Fanfulla's + raiment might have suffered in yesternight's affray, it was very gorgeous + still, and in the velvet cap upon his head a string of jewels was + entwined. Yet not so much by the richness of his trappings was the fool + impressed, as by the fact that one so manifestly noble should address by + such a title, and in a tone of so much deference, this indifferently + apparelled fellow over whom he had stumbled. Then his gaze wandered back + to the man who lay supported on his elbow, and he noticed now the gold net + in which his hair was coiffed, and which was by no means common to mean + folk. His little twinkling eyes turned their attention full upon the face + before him, and of a sudden a gleam of recognition entered them. His + countenance underwent a change, and from grotesque that it had been, it + became more grotesque still in its hasty assumption of reverence. + </p> + <p> + “My Lord of Aquila!” he murmured, scrambling to his feet. + </p> + <p> + Scarcely had he got erect when a hand gripped him by the shoulder, and + Fanfulla's dagger flashed before his startled eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Swear on the cross of this, never to divulge his Excellency's presence + here, or take you the point of it in your foolish heart.” + </p> + <p> + “I swear, I swear!” he cried, in fearful haste, his hand upon the hilt, + which Fanfulla now held towards him. + </p> + <p> + “Now fetch the priest, good fool,” said the Count, with a smile at the + hunchback's sudden terror. “You have nothing to fear from us.” + </p> + <p> + When the jester had left them to go upon his errand, Francesco turned to + his companion. + </p> + <p> + “Fanfulla, you are over-cautious,” he said, with an easy smile. “What + shall it matter that I am recognised?” + </p> + <p> + “I would not have it happen for a kingdom while you are so near Sant' + Angelo. The six of us who met last night are doomed—those of us who + are not dead already. For me, and for Lodi if he was not taken, there may + be safety in flight. Into the territory of Babbiano I shall never again + set foot whilst Gian Maria is Duke, unless I be weary of this world. But + of the seventh—yourself—you heard old Lodi swear that the + secret could not have transpired. Yet should his Highness come to hear of + your presence in these parts and in my company, suspicion might set him on + the road that leads to knowledge.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! And then?” + </p> + <p> + “Then?” returned the other, eyeing Francesco in surprise. “Why, then, the + hopes we found on you—the hopes of every man in Babbiano worthy of + the name—would be frustrated. But here comes our friend the fool, + and, in his wake, the friar.” + </p> + <p> + Fra Domenico—so was he very fitly named, this follower of St. + Dominic—approached with a solemnity that proceeded rather from his + great girth than from any inflated sense of the dignity of his calling. He + bowed before Fanfulla until his great crimson face was hidden, and he + displayed instead a yellow, shaven crown. It was as if the sun had set, + and the moon had risen in its place. + </p> + <p> + “Are you skilled in medicine?” quoth Fanfulla shortly. + </p> + <p> + “I have some knowledge, Illustrious.” + </p> + <p> + “Then see to this gentleman's wounds.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Dio mio! You are wounded, then?” he began, turning to the Count, and + he would have added other questions as pregnant, but that Aquila, drawing + aside his hacketon at the shoulder, answered him quickly: + </p> + <p> + “Here, sir priest.” + </p> + <p> + His lips pursed in solicitude, the friar would have gone upon his knees, + but that Francesco, seeing with what labour the movement must be fraught, + rose up at once. + </p> + <p> + “It is not so bad that I cannot stand,” said he, submitting himself to the + monk's examination. + </p> + <p> + The latter expressed the opinion that it was nowise dangerous, however + much it might be irksome, whereupon the Count invited him to bind it up. + To this Fra Domenico replied that he had neither unguents nor linen, but + Fanfulla suggested that he might get these things from the convent of + Acquasparta, hard by, and proffered to accompany him thither. + </p> + <p> + This being determined, they departed, leaving the Count in the company of + the jester. Francesco spread his cloak, and lay down again, whilst the + fool, craving his permission to remain, disposed himself upon his haunches + like a Turk. + </p> + <p> + “Who is your master, fool?” quoth the Count, in an idle spirit. + </p> + <p> + “There is a man who clothes and feeds me, noble sir, but Folly is my only + master.” + </p> + <p> + “To what end does he do this?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I pretend to be a greater fool than he, so that by contrast with + me he seems unto himself wise, which flatters his conceit. Again, perhaps, + because I am so much uglier than he that, again by contrast, he may + account himself a prodigy of beauty.” + </p> + <p> + “Odd, is it not?” the Count humoured him. + </p> + <p> + “Not half so odd as that the Lord of Aquila should lie here, roughly clad, + a wound in his shoulder, talking to a fool.” + </p> + <p> + Francesco eyed him with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Give thanks to God that Fanfulla is not here to hear you, or they had + been your last words for pretty though he be, Messer Fanfulla is a very + monster of bloodthirstiness. With me it is different. I am a man of very + gentle ways, as you may have heard, Messer Buffoon. But see that you + forget at once my station and my name, or you may realise how little they + need buffoons in the Court of Heaven.” + </p> + <p> + “My lord, forgive. I shall obey you,” answered the hunchback, with a + stricken manner. And then through the glade came a voice—a woman's + voice, wondrous sweet and rich—calling: “Peppino! Peppino!” + </p> + <p> + “It is my mistress calling me,” quoth the fool, leaping to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “So that you own a mistress, though Folly be your only master,” laughed + the Count. “It would pleasure me to behold the lady whose property you + have the honour to be, Ser Peppino.” + </p> + <p> + “You may behold her if you but turn your head,” Peppino whispered. + </p> + <p> + Idly, with a smile upon his lips that was almost scornful, the Lord of + Aquila turned his eyes in the direction in which the fool was already + walking. And on the instant his whole expression changed. The amused scorn + was swept from his countenance, and in its place there sat now a look of + wonder that was almost awe. + </p> + <p> + Standing there, on the edge of the clearing, in which he lay, he beheld a + woman. He had a vague impression of a slender, shapely height, a fleeting + vision of a robe of white damask, a camorra of green velvet, and a + choicely wrought girdle of gold. But it was the glory of her peerless face + that caught and held his glance in such ecstatic awe; the miracle of her + eyes, which, riveted on his, returned his glance with one of mild + surprise. A child she almost seemed, despite her height and womanly + proportions, so fresh and youthful was her countenance. + </p> + <p> + Raised on his elbow, he lay there for a spell, and gazed and gazed, his + mind running on visions which godly men have had of saints from Paradise. + </p> + <p> + At last the spell was broken by Peppino's voice, addressing her, his back + servilely bent. Francesco bethought him of the deference due to one so + clearly noble, and leaping to his feet, his wound forgotten, he bowed + profoundly. A second later he gasped for breath, reeled, and swooning, + collapsed supine among the bracken. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. MONNA VALENTINA + </h2> + <p> + In after years the Lord of Aquila was wont to aver in all solemnity that + it was the sight of her wondrous beauty set up such a disorder in his soul + that it overcame his senses, and laid him swooning at her feet. That he, + himself, believed it so, it is not ours to doubt, for all that we may be + more prone to agree with the opinion afterwards expressed by Fanfulla and + the friar—and deeply resented by the Count—that in leaping to + his feet in over-violent haste his wound re-opened, and the pain of this, + combining with the weak condition that resulted from his loss of blood, + had caused his sudden faintness. + </p> + <p> + “Who is this, Peppe?” she asked the fool, and he, mindful of the oath he + had sworn, answered her brazenly that he did not know, adding that it was—as + she might see—-some poor wounded fellow. + </p> + <p> + “Wounded?” she echoed, and her glorious eyes grew very pitiful. “And + alone?” + </p> + <p> + “There was a gentleman here, tending him, Madonna; but he is gone with Fra + Domenico to the Convent of Acquasparta to seek the necessaries to mend his + shoulder.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor gentleman,” she murmured, approaching the fallen figure. “How came + he by his hurt?” + </p> + <p> + “That, Madonna, is more than I can tell.” + </p> + <p> + “Can we do nothing for him until his friends return?” was her next + question, bending over the Count as she spoke. “Come, Peppino,” she cried, + “lend me your aid. Get me water from the brook, yonder.” + </p> + <p> + The fool looked about him for a vessel, and his eye falling upon the + Count's capacious hat, he snatched it up, and went his errand. When he + returned, the lady was kneeling with the unconscious man's head in her + lap. Into the hatful of water that Peppe brought her she dipped a + kerchief, and with this she bathed the brow on which his long black hair + lay matted and disordered. + </p> + <p> + “See how he has bled, Peppe,” said she. “His doublet is drenched, and he + is bleeding still! Vergine Santa!” she cried, beholding now the ugly wound + that gaped in his shoulder, and turning pale at the sight. “Assuredly he + will die of it—and he so young, Peppino, and so comely to behold!” + </p> + <p> + Francesco stirred, and a sigh fluttered through his pallid lips. Then he + raised his heavy lids, and their glances met and held each other. And so, + eyes that were brown and tender looked down into feverish languid eyes of + black, what time her gentle hand held the moist cloth to his aching brow. + </p> + <p> + “Angel of beauty!” he murmured dreamily, being but half-awake as yet to + his position. Then, becoming conscious of her ministrations, “Angel of + goodness!” he added, with yet deeper fervour. + </p> + <p> + She had no answer for him, saving such answer—and in itself it was + eloquent enough—as her blushes made, for she was fresh from a + convent and all innocent of worldly ways and tricks of gallant speech. + </p> + <p> + “Do you suffer?” she asked at last. + </p> + <p> + “Suffer?” quoth he, now waking more and more, and his voice sounding a + note of scorn. “Suffer? My head so pillowed and a saint from Heaven + ministering to my ills? Nay, I am in no pain, Madonna, but in a joy more + sweet than I have ever known.” + </p> + <p> + “GesĂą! What a nimble tongue!” gibed the fool from the background. + </p> + <p> + “Are you there, too, Master Buffoon?” quoth Francesco. “And Fanfulla? Is + he not here? Why, now I bethink me; he went to Acquasparta with the + friar.” He thrust his elbow under him for more support. + </p> + <p> + “You must not move,” said she, thinking that he would essay to rise. + </p> + <p> + “I would not, lady, if I must,” he answered solemnly. And then, with his + eyes upon her face, he boldly asked her name. + </p> + <p> + “My name,” she answered readily, “is Valentina della Rovere, and I am + niece to Guidobaldo of Urbino.” + </p> + <p> + His brows shot up. + </p> + <p> + “Do I indeed live,” he questioned, “or do I but dream the memories of some + old romancer's tale, in which a wandering knight is tended thus by a + princess?” + </p> + <p> + “Are you a knight?” she asked, a wonder coming now into her eyes, for even + into the seclusion of her convent-life had crept strange stories of these + mighty men-at-arms. + </p> + <p> + “Your knight at least, sweet lady,” answered he, “and ever your poor + champion if you will do me so much honour.” + </p> + <p> + A crimson flush stole now into her cheeks, summoned by his bold words and + bolder glances, and her eyes fell. Yet, resentment had no part in her + confusion. She found no presumption in his speech, nor aught that a brave + knight might not say to the lady who had succoured him in his distress. + Peppe, who stood listening and marking the Count's manner, knowing the + knight's station, was filled now with wonder, now with mockery; yet never + interfered. + </p> + <p> + “What is your name, sir knight?” she asked, after a pause. + </p> + <p> + His eyes looked troubled, and as they shot beyond her to the fool, they + caught on Peppe's face a grin of sly amusement. + </p> + <p> + “My name,” he said at last, “is Francesco.” And then, to prevent that she + should further question him—“But tell me, Madonna,” he inquired, + “how comes a lady of your station here, alone with that poor fraction of a + man?” And he indicated the grinning Peppe. + </p> + <p> + “My people are yonder in the woods, where we have halted for a little + space. I am on my way to my uncle's court, from the Convent of Santa + Sofia, and for my escort I have Messer Romeo Gonzaga and twenty spears. So + that, you see, I am well protected, without counting Ser Peppe here and + the saintly Fra Domenico, my confessor.” + </p> + <p> + There was a pause, ended at length by Francesco. + </p> + <p> + “You will be the younger niece of his Highness of Urbino?” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Not so, Messer Francesco,” she answered readily. “I am the elder.” + </p> + <p> + At that his brows grew of a sudden dark. + </p> + <p> + “Can you be she whom they would wed to Gian Maria?” he exclaimed, at which + the fool pricked up his ears, whilst she looked at the Count with a gaze + that plainly showed how far she was from understanding him. + </p> + <p> + “You said?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Why, nothing,” he answered, with a sigh, and in that moment a man's voice + came ringing through the wood. + </p> + <p> + “Madonna! Madonna Valentina!” + </p> + <p> + Francesco and the lady turned their eyes in the direction whence the voice + proceeded, and they beheld a superbly dazzling figure entering the glade. + In beauty of person and richness of apparel he was well worthy of the + company of Valentina. His doublet was of grey velvet, set off with scales + of beaten gold, and revealing a gold-embroidered vest beneath; his bonnet + matched his doublet, and was decked by a feather that sparkled with costly + gems; his gold-hilted sword was sheathed in a scabbard also of grey velvet + set with jewels. His face was comely as a damsel's, his eyes blue and his + hair golden. + </p> + <p> + “Behold,” announced Peppino gravely, “Italy's latest translation of the + Golden Ass of Apuleius.” + </p> + <p> + Upon seeing the noble niece of Guidobaldo kneeling there with Francesco's + head still pillowed in her lap, the new-comer cast up his arms in a + gesture of dismay. + </p> + <p> + “Saints in Heaven!” he exclaimed, hurrying towards them. “What occupation + have you found? Who is this ugly fellow?” + </p> + <p> + “Ugly?” was all she answered him, in accents of profound surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Who is he?” the young man insisted, his tone growing heated. “And what + does he here and thus, with you? GesĂą! What would his Highness say? How + would he deal with me were he to learn of this? Who is the man, Madonna?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, as you see, Messer Gonzaga,” she answered, with some heat, “a + wounded knight.” + </p> + <p> + “A knight he?” gibed Gonzaga. “A thief more likely, a prowling masnadiero. + What is your name?” he roughly asked the Count. + </p> + <p> + Drawing himself a little away from Valentina, and reclining entirely upon + his elbow, Francesco motioned him with a wave of the hand to come no + nearer. + </p> + <p> + “I beg, lady, that you will bid your pretty page stand back a little. I am + still faint, and his perfumes overpower me.” + </p> + <p> + Under the mask of the polite request Gonzaga detected the mocking, + contemptuous note, and it gave fuel to his anger. + </p> + <p> + “I am no page, fool,” he answered, then clapping his hands together, he + raised his voice to shout—“Olá, Beltrame! To me!” + </p> + <p> + “What would you do?” cried the lady, rising to confront him. + </p> + <p> + “Carry this ruffian in bonds to Urbino, as is my duty.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir, you may wound your pretty hands in grasping me,” replied the Count, + in chill indifference. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! You would threaten me with violence, vassal?” cried the other, + retreating some paces farther as he spoke. “Beltrame!” he called again. + “Are you never coming?” A voice answered him from the thicket, and with a + clank of steel a half-dozen men flung themselves into the glade. + </p> + <p> + “Your orders, sir?” craved he that led them, his eyes wandering to the + still prostrate Count. + </p> + <p> + “Tie me up this dog,” Gonzaga bade him. But before the fellow could move a + foot to carry out the order Valentina barred his way. + </p> + <p> + “You shall not,” she commanded, and so transformed was she from the + ingenuous child that lately had talked with him, that Francesco gaped in + pure astonishment. “In my uncle's name, I bid you leave this gentleman + where he lies. He is a wounded knight whom I have been pleased to tend—a + matter which seems to have aroused Messer Gonzaga's anger against him.” + </p> + <p> + Beltrame paused, and looked from Valentina to Gonzaga, undecided. + </p> + <p> + “Madonna,” said Gonzaga, with assumed humility, “your word is law with us. + But I would have you consider that, what I bid Beltrame do is in the + interest of his Highness, whose territory is infested by these vagabonding + robbers. It is a fact that may not have reached you in your convent + retreat, no more than has sufficient knowledge reached you yet—in + your incomparable innocence—to distinguish between rogues and honest + men. Beltrame, do my bidding.” + </p> + <p> + Valentina's foot tapped the ground impatiently, and into her eyes there + came a look of anger that heightened her likeness to her martial uncle. + But Peppe it was who spoke. + </p> + <p> + “For all that there seem to be fools enough, already, meddling in this + business,” he said, in tones of mock lament, “permit that I join their + number, Ser Romeo, and listen to my counsel.” + </p> + <p> + “Out, fool,” cried Gonzaga, cutting at him with his riding-switch, “we + need not your capers.” + </p> + <p> + “No, but you need my wisdom,” retorted Ser Peppe, as he leapt beyond + Gonzaga's reach. “Hear me, Beltrame! For all that we do not doubt Messer + Gonzaga's keen discrimination in judging 'twixt a rogue and an honest man, + I do promise you, as surely as though I were Fate herself, that if you + obey him now and tie up that gentleman, you will yourself be tied up for + it, later on, in a yet uglier fashion.” + </p> + <p> + Beltrame looked alarmed, Gonzaga incredulous. Valentina thanked Peppe with + her eyes, thinking that he had but hit upon a subterfuge to serve her + wishes, whilst Francesco, who had now risen to his feet, looked on with an + amused smile as though the matter concerned him nowise personally. And + then, in the very crux of the situation, Fanfulla and Fra Domenico + appeared upon the scene. + </p> + <p> + “You are, well-returned, Fanfulla!” the Count called to him, “This pretty + gentleman would have had me bound.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you bound?” echoed Fanfulla, in angry horror. “Upon what grounds, + pray?” he demanded, turning fiercely upon Gonzaga. + </p> + <p> + Impressed by Fanfulla's lordly air, Romeo Gonzaga grew amazingly humble + for one that but a moment back had been so overbearing. + </p> + <p> + “It would seem, sir, that my judgment was at fault in esteeming his + condition,” he excused himself. + </p> + <p> + “Your judgment?” returned the hot Fanfulla. “And who bade you judge? Go + cut your milk-teeth, boy, and meddle not with men if you would live to be + a man yourself some day.” + </p> + <p> + Valentina smiled, Peppe laughed outright, whilst even Beltrame and his + followers grinned, all of which added not a little to Gonzaga's choler. + But scant though his wisdom might be, it was yet enough to dictate + prudence. + </p> + <p> + “The presence of Madonna here restrains me,” he answered, with elaborate + dignity. “But should we meet again, I shall make bold to show you what + manhood means.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps—if by then you shall have come to it.” And with a shrug + Fanfulla turned to give his attention to the Count, whom Fra Domenico was + already tending. + </p> + <p> + Valentina, to relieve the awkwardness of the moment, proposed to Gonzaga + that he should get his escort to horse, and have her litter in readiness, + so that they might resume their journey as soon as Fra Domenico should + have concluded his ministrations. + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga bowed, and with a vicious glance at the strangers and an angry + “Follow me!” to Beltrame and the others, he departed with the men-at-arms + at his heels. + </p> + <p> + Valentina remained with Fanfulla and Peppe, whilst Fra Domenico dressed + Francesco's wound, and, presently, when the task was accomplished, they + departed, leaving Fanfulla amid the Count alone. But ere she went she + listened to Francesco's thanks, and suffered him to touch her ivory + fingers with his lips. + </p> + <p> + There was much he might have said but that the presence of the other three + restrained him. Yet some little of that much she may have seen reflected + in his eyes, for all that day she rode pensive, a fond, wistful smile at + the corners of her lips. And although to Gonzaga she manifested no + resentment, yet did she twit him touching that mistake of his. Sore in his + dignity, he liked her playful mockery little yet he liked the words in + which she framed it less. + </p> + <p> + “How came you into so grievous an error, Ser Romeo?” she asked him, more + than once. “How could you deem him a rogue—he with so noble a mien + and so beautiful a countenance?” And without heeding the sullenness of his + answers, she would lapse with a sigh once more into reflection—a + thing that galled Gonzaga more, perhaps, than did her gibes. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. GIAN MARIA + </h2> + <p> + It was a week after the meeting 'twixt the niece of Guidobaldo and the + Count of Aquila, when the latter—his wound being wellnigh healed—rode + one morning under the great archway that was the main entrance to the city + of Babbiano. The Captain of the Gate saluted him respectfully as he rode + by, and permitted himself to marvel at the pallor of his Excellency's + face. And yet, the cause was not very far to seek. It stood upon four + spears, among a noisy flock of circling crows, above that very Gate—-called + of San Bacolo—and consisted of four detruncated human heads. + </p> + <p> + The sight of those dead faces grinning horribly, their long, matted hair + fluttering like rags in the April breeze, had arrested Francesco's + attention as he drew nigh. But when presently he came nearer and looked + with more intentness, a shudder of recognition ran through him, and a + great horror filled his soul and paled his cheek. The first of those heads + was that of the valiant and well-named Ferrabraccio; the next that of + Amerino Amerini; and the other two, those of his captured companions on + that night at Sant' Angelo. + </p> + <p> + So it would seem that Gian Maria had been busy during the week that was + sped, and that there, on the walls of Babbiano, lay rotting the only + fruits which that ill-starred conspiracy was likely to bear. + </p> + <p> + For a second it entered his mind to turn back. But his stout and fearless + nature drove him on, all unattended as he was, and in despite of such + vague forebodings as beset him. How much, he wondered, might Gian Maria + know of his own share in that mountain meeting, and how would it fare with + him if his cousin was aware that it had been proposed to the Count of + Aquila to supplant him? + </p> + <p> + He was not long, however, in learning that grounds were wanting for such + fears as he had entertained. Gian Maria received him with even more than + wonted welcome, for he laid much store by Francesco's judgment and was in + sore need of it at present. + </p> + <p> + Francesco found him at table, which had been laid for him amidst the + treasures of art and learning that enriched the splendid Palace library. + It was a place beloved by Gian Maria for the material comforts that it + offered him, and so he turned it to a score of vulgar purposes of his own, + yet never to that for which it was equipped, being an utter stranger to + letters and ignorant as a ploughboy. + </p> + <p> + Ensconced in a great chair of crimson leather, at a board overladen with + choice viands and sparkling with crystal flagons and with vessels and + dishes of gold and enamel, Francesco found his cousin, and the air that + had been heavy once with the scholarly smell of parchments and musty tomes + was saturated now with pungent odours of the table. + </p> + <p> + In stature Gian Maria was short and inclining, young though he was, to + corpulency. His face was round and pale and flabby; his eyes blue and + beady; his mouth sensual and cruel. He was dressed in a suit of lilac + velvet, trimmed with lynx fur, and slashed, Spanish fashion, in the + sleeves, to show the shirt of fine Rheims linen underneath. About his neck + hung a gold chain, bearing an Agnus Dei, which contained a relic of the + True Cross—for Gian Maria pushed his devoutness to great lengths. + </p> + <p> + His welcome of Francesco was more effusive than its wont. He bade the two + servants who attended him to lay a plate for his illustrious cousin, and + when Aquila shortly yet courteously declined, with the assurance that he + had dined already, the Duke insisted that, at least, he should drink a Cup + of Malvasia. When out of a vessel of beaten gold they had filled a goblet + for the Count, his Highness bade the servants go, and relaxed—if, + indeed, so much may be said of one who never knew much dignity—before + his visitor. + </p> + <p> + “I hear,” said Aquila, when the first compliments were spent, “strange + stories of a conspiracy in your Duchy, and on the walls at the Gate of San + Bacolo I beheld four heads, of men whom I have known and honoured.” + </p> + <p> + “And who dishonoured themselves ere their heads were made a banquet for + the crows. There, Francesco!” He shuddered, and crossed himself. “It is + unlucky to speak of the dead at table.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us speak, then, of their offence alone,” persisted Francesco subtly. + “In what did it lie? + </p> + <p> + “In what?” returned the Duke amusedly. His voice was thin and inclining to + shrillness. “It is more than I can say. Masuccio knew. But the dog would + not disclose his secret nor the names of the conspirators until his task + should be accomplished and he had taken them at the treason he knew they + had gathered to ripen. But,” he continued, an olive poised 'twixt thumb + and forefinger, “it seems they were not to be captured as easily as he + thought. He told me the traitors numbered six, and that they were to meet + a seventh there. The men who returned from the venture tell me too, and + without shame, that there were but some six or seven that beset them. Yet + they gave the Swiss trouble enough, and killed some nine of them besides a + half-score of more or less grievously wounded, whilst they but slew two of + their assailants and captured another two. Those were the four heads you + saw at the Porta San Bacolo.” + </p> + <p> + “And Masuccio?” inquired Francesco. “Has he not told you since who were + those others that escaped?” + </p> + <p> + His Highness paused to masticate the olive. + </p> + <p> + “Why, there lies the difficulty,” said he at length. “The dog is dead. He + was killed in the affray. May he rot in hell for his obstinate reticence. + No, no!” he checked himself hastily. “He's dead, and the secret of this + treason, as well as the names of the traitors, have perished with him. Yet + I am a clement man, Francesco, and sorely though that dog has wronged me + by his silence, I thank Heaven for the grace to say—God rest his + vile soul!” + </p> + <p> + The Count flung himself into a chair, as much to dissemble such signs of + relief as might show upon his face, as because he wished to sit. + </p> + <p> + “But surely Masuccio left you some information!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “The very scantiest,” returned Gian Maria, in chagrined accents. “It was + ever the way of that secretive vassal. Damn him! He frankly told me that + if I knew, I would talk. Heard you ever of such insufferable insolence to + a prince? All that he would let me learn was that there was a conspiracy + afoot to supplant me, and that he was going to capture the conspirators, + together with the man whom they were inviting to take my place. Ponder it, + Francesco! Such are the murderous plans my loving subjects form for my + undoing—I who rule them with a rod of gold, the most clement, just + and generous prince in Italy. Cristo buono! Do you marvel that I lost + patience and had their hideous heads set upon spears?” + </p> + <p> + “But did you not say that two of these conspirators were brought back + captive?” + </p> + <p> + The Duke nodded, his mouth too full for words. + </p> + <p> + “Then, at their trial, what transpired?” + </p> + <p> + “Trial? There was no trial.” Gian Maria chewed vigorously for a moment. “I + tell you I was so heated with anger at this base ingratitude, that I had + not even the wit to have the names of their associates tortured out of + them. Within a half-hour of their arrival in Babbiano, the heads of these + men whom it had pleased Heaven to deliver up to me were where you saw them + to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “You sent them thus to their death?” gasped Francesco, rising to his feet + and eyeing his cousin with mingled wonder and anger. “You sent men of such + families as these to the headsman, without a trial? I think, Gian Maria, + that you must be mad if so rashly you can shed such blood as this.” + </p> + <p> + The Duke sank back in his chair to gape at his impetuous cousin. Then, in + sullen anger: “To whom do you speak?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “To a tyrant who calls himself the most clement, just and generous prince + in Italy, and who lacks the wisdom to see that he is undermining with his + own hands, and by his own rash actions, a throne that is already + tottering. Can you not think that this might mean a revolution? It amounts + to murder, and though dukes resort to it freely enough in Italy, it is not + openly and defiantly wrought, as is this.” + </p> + <p> + Anger there was in the Duke's soul, but there was still more fear—so + much, that it shouldered the anger aside. + </p> + <p> + “I have provided against rebellion,” he announced, with an ease that he + vainly strove to feel. “I have given the command of my guards to Martino + Armstadt, and he has engaged for me a company of five hundred Swiss + lanzknechte that were lately in the pay of the Baglioni of Perugia.” + </p> + <p> + “And you deem this security?” rejoined Francesco, with a smile of scorn. + “To hedge your throne with foreign spears commanded by a foreigner?” + </p> + <p> + “This and God's grace,” was the pious answer. + </p> + <p> + “Bah!” answered Francesco, impatient at the hypocrisy. “Win the hearts of + your people. Let that be your buckler.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” whispered Gian Maria. “You blaspheme. Does not every act of my + self-sacrificing life point to such an aim? I live for my people. But, by + my soul, they ask too much when they ask that I should die for them. If I + serve those who plot against my life, as I have served these men you speak + of, who shall blame me? I tell you, Francesco, I wish I might have those + others who escaped, that I might do as much by them. By the living God, I + do! And as for the man who was to have supplanted me——” He + paused, a deadly smile on his sensual mouth completing the sentence more + effectively than lay within the power of words. “Who could it have been?” + he mused. “I've vowed that if Heaven will grant me that I discover him, + I'll burn a candle to Santa Fosca every Saturday for a twelvemonth and go + fasting on the Vigil of the Dead. Who—who could it have been, + Franceschino?” + </p> + <p> + “How should I know?” returned Francesco, evading the question. + </p> + <p> + “You know so much, Checco mio. Your mind is so quick to fathom matters of + this kind. Think you, now, it might have been the Duca Valentino?” + </p> + <p> + Francesco shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “When Caesar Borgia comes he will know no need to resort to such poor + means. He will come in arms to reduce you by his might.” + </p> + <p> + “God and the saints protect me!” gasped the Duke. “You talk of it as if he + were already marching.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I talk of it advisedly. The event is none so remote as you would + make yourself believe. Listen, Gian Maria! I have not ridden from Aquila + for just the pleasure of passing the time of day with you. Fabrizio da + Lodi and Fanfulla degli Arcipreti have been with me of late.” + </p> + <p> + “With you?” cried the Duke, his little eyes narrowing themselves as they + glanced up at his cousin. “With you—Âeh?” He shrugged his shoulders + and spread his palms before him. “Pish! See into what errors even so clear + a mind as mine may fall. Do you know, Francesco, that marking their + absence since that conspiracy was laid, I had a half-suspicion they were + connected with it.” And he devoted his attention to a honeycomb. + </p> + <p> + “You have not in all your Duchy two hearts more faithful to Babbiano,” was + the equivocal reply. “It was on the matter of this very peril that + threatens you that they came to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” Gian Maria's white face grew interested. + </p> + <p> + And now the Count of Aquila talked to the Duke of Babbiano much as + Fabrizio da Lodi had talked to the Count that night at Sant' Angelo. He + spoke of the danger that threatened from the Borgia, of the utter lack of + preparation, and of Gian Maria's contempt of the counsels given him. He + alluded to the discontent rife among his subjects at this state of things, + and to the urgent need to set them right. When he had done, the Duke sat + silent a while, his eyes bent thoughtfully upon his platter, on which the + food lay now unheeded. + </p> + <p> + “An easy thing, is it not, Francesco, to say to a man: this is wrong, and + that is wrong. But who is there, pray, to set it right for me?” + </p> + <p> + “That, if you will say but the word, I will attempt to do.” + </p> + <p> + “You?” cried the Duke, and far from manifesting satisfaction at having one + offer himself to undertake to right this very crooked business, Gian + Maria's face reflected an incredulous anger and some little scorn. “And + how, my marvellous cousin, would you set about it?” he inquired, a sneer + lurking in his tone. + </p> + <p> + “I would place such matters as the levying of money by taxation in the + hands of Messer Despuglio, and at whatever sacrifice to your own + extravagance, I would see that for months to come the bulk of these moneys + is applied to the levying and arming of suitable men. I have some skill as + a condottiero—leastways, so more than one foreign prince has been + forced to acknowledge. I will lead your army when I have raised it, and I + will enter into alliances for you with our neighbouring States, who, + seeing us armed, will deem us a power worthy of their alliance. And so, + what man can do to stem the impending flood of this invasion, that will I + do to defend your Duchy. Make me your gonfalonier, and in a month I will + tell you whether it lies in my power or not to save your State.” + </p> + <p> + The eyes of Gian Maria had narrowed more and more whilst Francesco spoke, + and into his shallow face had crept an evil, suspicious look. As the Count + ceased, he gave vent to a subdued laugh, bitter with mockery. + </p> + <p> + “Make you my gonfalonier?” he muttered, in consummate amusement. “And + since when has Babbiano been a republic—or is it your aim to make it + one, and establish yourself as its chief magistrate?” + </p> + <p> + “If you misapprehend me so——” began Francesco, but his cousin + interrupted him with heightening scorn. + </p> + <p> + “Misapprehend you, Messer Franceschino? No, no. I understand you but too + well.” He rose suddenly from his interrupted meal, and came a step nearer + his cousin. “I hear rumours of this growing love my people are manifesting + for the Count of Aquila, and I have let them go unheeded. That rogue + Masuccio warned me ere he died, and I answered him with my whip across his + face. But I am by no means sure that I have been proceeding wisely. I had + a dream two nights ago—— But let that be! When it so happens + that in any State there is a man whom the people prefer to him who rules + them, and when it so happens that this man is of as good blood and high + birth as are you, he becomes a danger to him that sits the throne. I need + scarce remind you,” he added, with a horrid grin, “of how the Borgias deal + with such individuals, nor need I add that a Sforza may see fit to emulate + those very conclusive measures of precaution. The family of Sforza has + bred as yet no fools, nor shall I prove myself the first by placing in + another's hands the power to make himself my master. You see, my gentle + cousin, how transparent your aims become under my eyes. I am keen of + vision, Franceschino, keen of vision!” He tapped his nose and chuckled a + malicious appreciation of his own acute perceptions. + </p> + <p> + Francesco regarded him with an eye of stony scorn. He might have answered, + had he been so disposed, that the Duchy of Babbiano was his to take + whenever he pleased. He might have told him that, and defied him. But he + went more slowly than did this man of a family that bred no fools. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know me, then, so little, Gian Maria,” said he, not without + bitterness, “that you think I hunger for so empty a thing as this ducal + pomp you clutch so fearfully? I tell you, man, that I prefer my liberty to + an imperial throne. But I waste breath with you. Yet, some day, when your + crown shall have passed from you and your power have been engulfed in the + Borgia's rapacious maw, remember my offer which might have saved you and + which with insults you disregarded, as you disregarded the advice your + older counsellors gave you.” + </p> + <p> + Gian Maria shrugged his fat shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “If by that other advice you mean the counsel that I should take + Guidobaldo's niece to wife, you may give ease unto your patriotic soul. I + have consented to enter into this alliance. And now,” he ended, with + another of his infernal chuckles, “you see how little I need dread this + terrible son of Pope Alexander. Allied with Urbino and the other States + that are its friends, I can defy the might of Caesar Borgia. I shall sleep + tranquil of nights beside my beauteous bride, secure in the protection her + uncle's armies will afford me, and never needing so much as my valiant + cousin's aid as my gonfalonier.” + </p> + <p> + The Count of Aquila changed colour despite himself, and the Duke's + suspicious eyes were as quick to observe it as was his mind to + misinterpret its meaning. He registered a vow to set a watch on this + solicitous cousin who offered so readily to bear his gonfalon. + </p> + <p> + “I felicitate you, at least,” said Francesco gravely, “upon the wisdom of + that step. Had I known of it I had not troubled you with other proposals + for the safety of your State. But, may I ask you, Gian Maria, what + influences led you to a course which, hitherto, you have so obstinately + refused to follow?” + </p> + <p> + The Duke shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “They plagued me so,” he lamented, with a grimace, “that in the end I + consented. I could withstand Lodi and the others, but when my mother + joined them with her prayers—I should say, her commands—and + pointed out again my peril to me, I gave way. After all a man must wed. + And since in my station he need not let his marriage weigh too much upon + him, I resolved on it for the sake of security and peace.” + </p> + <p> + Since it was the salvation of Babbiano that he aimed at, the Count of + Aquila should have rejoiced at Gian Maria's wise resolve, and no other + consideration should have tempered so encompassing a thing as that joy of + his should have been. Yet, when later he left his cousin's presence, the + only feeling that he carried with him was a deep and bitter resentment + against the Fate that willed such things, blent with a sorrowing pity for + the girl that was to wed his cousin and a growing hatred for the cousin + who made him pity her. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. THE AMOROUS DUKE + </h2> + <p> + From a window of the Palace of Babbiano the Lord of Aquila watched the + amazing bustle in the courtyard below, and at his side stood Fanfulla + degli Arcipreti, whom he had summoned from Perugia with assurances that, + Masuccio being dead, no peril now menaced him. + </p> + <p> + It was a week after that interview at which Gian Maria had made known his + intentions to his cousin, and his Highness was now upon the point of + setting out for Urbino, to perform the comedy of wooing the Lady + Valentina. This was the explanation of that scurrying of servitors and + pages, that parading of men-at-arms, and that stamping of horses and mules + in the quadrangle below. Francesco watched the scene with a smile of some + bitterness, his companion with one of supreme satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “Praised be Heaven for having brought his Highness at last to a sense of + his duty,” remarked the courtier. + </p> + <p> + “It has often happened to me,” said Francesco, disregarding his + companion's words, “to malign the Fates for having brought me into the + world a count. But in the future I shall give them thanks, for I see how + much worse it might have been—I might have been born a prince, with + a duchy to rule over. I might have been as that poor man, my cousin, a + creature whose life is all pomp and no real dignity, all merryÂmaking and + no real mirth—loveless, isolated and vain.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” cried the amazed Fanfulla, “assuredly there are compensations?” + </p> + <p> + “You see that bustle. You know what it portends. What compensation can + there be for that?” + </p> + <p> + “It is a question you should be the last to ask, my lord. You have seen + the niece of Guidobaldo, and having seen her, can you still ask what + compensation does this marriage offer Gian Maria?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you, then, not understand?” returned Aquila, with a wan smile. “Do you + not see the tragedy of it? Is it nothing that two States, having found + that this marriage would be mutually advantageous, have determined that it + shall take place? That meanwhile the chief actors—the victims, I + might almost call them—have no opportunity of selecting for + themselves. Gian Maria goes about it resignedly. He will tell you that he + has always known that some day he must wed and do his best to beget a son. + He held out long enough against this alliance, but now that necessity is + driving him at last, he goes about it much as he would go about any other + State affair—a coronation, a banquet, or a ball. Can you wonder now + that I would not accept the throne of Babbiano when it was offered me? I + tell you, Fanfulla, that were I at present in my cousin's shoes, I would + cast crown and purple at whomsoever had a fancy for them ere they crushed + the life out of me and left me a poor puppet. Sooner than endure that + hollow mockery of a life I would become a peasant or a vassal; I would + delve the earth and lead a humble life, but lead it in my own way, and + thank God for the freedom of it; choose my own comrades; live as I list, + where I list; love as I list, where I list, and die when God pleases with + the knowledge that my life had not been altogether barren. And that poor + girl, Fanfulla! Think of her. She is to be joined in loveless union to + such a gross, unfeeling clod as Gian Maria. Have you no pity for her?” + </p> + <p> + Fanfulla sighed, his brow clouded. + </p> + <p> + “I am not so dull but that I can see why you should reason thus to-day,” + said he. “These thoughts have come to you since you have seen her.” + </p> + <p> + Franceseo sighed deeply. + </p> + <p> + “Who knows?” he made answer wistfully. “In the few moments that we talked + together, in the little time that I beheld her, it may be that she dealt + me a wound far deeper than the one to which she so mercifully sought to + minister.” + </p> + <p> + Now for all that in what the Lord of Aquila said touching the projected + union there was a deal of justice, yet when he asserted that the chief + actors were to have no opportunity of selecting for themselves, he said + too much. That opportunity they were to have. It occurred three days later + at Urbino, when the Duke and Valentina were brought together at the + banquet of welcome given by Guidobaldo to his intended nephew-in-law. The + sight of her resplendent beauty came as a joyful shock to Gian Maria, and + filled him with as much impatience to possess her as did his own gross + ugliness render him offensive in her eyes. Averse had she been to this + wedding from the moment that it had been broached to her. The sight of + Gian Maria completed her loathing of the part assigned her, and in her + heart she registered a vow that sooner than become the Duchess of + Babbiano, she would return to her Convent of Santa Sofia and take the + veil. + </p> + <p> + Gian Maria sat beside her at the banquet, and in the intervals of eating—which + absorbed him mightily—he whispered compliments at which she + shuddered and turned pale. The more strenuously did he strive to please, + in his gross and clumsy fashion, the more did he succeed in repelling and + disgusting her, until, in the end, with all his fatuousness, he came to + deem her oddly cold. Of this, anon, he made complaint to that magnificent + prince, her uncle. But Guidobaldo scoffed at his qualms. + </p> + <p> + “Do you account my niece a peasant girl?” he asked. “Would you have her + smirk and squirm at every piece of flattery you utter? So that she weds + your Highness what shall the rest signify?” + </p> + <p> + “I would she loved me a little,” complained Gian Maria foolishly. + </p> + <p> + Guidobaldo looked him over with an eye that smiled inscrutably, and it may + have crossed his mind that this coarse, white-faced Duke was too + ambitious. + </p> + <p> + “I doubt not that she will,” he answered, in tones as inscrutable as his + glance. “So that you woo with grace and ardour, what woman could withstand + your Highness? Be not put off by such modesty as becomes a maid.” + </p> + <p> + Those words of Guidobaldo's breathed new courage into him. Nor ever after + could he think that her coldness was other than a cloak, a sort of + maidenly garment behind which modesty bade her conceal the inclinations of + her heart. Reasoning thus, and having in support of it his wondrous + fatuity, it so befell that the more she shunned and avoided him, the more + did he gather conviction of the intensity of her affection; the more + loathing she betrayed, the more proof did it afford him of the consuming + quality of her passion. In the end, he went even so far as to applaud and + esteem in her this very maidenly conduct. + </p> + <p> + There were hunting-parties, hawking-parties, water-parties, banquets, + comedies, balls, and revels of every description, and for a week all went + well at Urbino. Then, as suddenly as if a cannon had been fired upon the + Palace, the festivities were interrupted. The news that an envoy of Caesar + Borgia's was at Babbiano with a message from his master came like a cold + douche upon Gian Maria. It was borne to him in a letter from Fabrizio da + Lodi, imploring his immediate return to treat with this plenipotentiary of + Valentino's. + </p> + <p> + No longer did he disregard the peril that threatened him from the + all-conquering Borgia, no longer deem exaggerated by his advisers the + cause for fear. This sudden presence of Valentino's messenger, coming, + too, at a time when it would almost seem as if the impending union with + Urbino had spurred the Borgia to act before the alliance was established, + filled him with apprehension. + </p> + <p> + In one of the princely chambers that had been set aside for his use during + his visit to Urbino he discussed the tragic news with the two nobles who + had accompanied him—Alvaro de Alvari and Gismondo Santi—and + both of them, whilst urging him to take the advice of Lodi and return at + once, urged him, too, to establish his betrothal ere he left. + </p> + <p> + “Bring the matter to an issue at once, your Highness,” said Santi, “and + thus you will go back to Babbiano well-armed to meet the Duca Valentino's + messenger.” + </p> + <p> + Readily accepting this advice, Gian Maria went in quest of Guidobaldo, and + laid before him his proposals, together with the news which had arrived + and which was the cause of the haste he now manifested. Guidobaldo + listened gravely. In its way the news affected him as well, for he feared + the might of Caesar Borgia as much as any man in Italy, and he was, by + virtue of it, the readier to hasten forward an alliance which should bring + another of the neighbouring states into the powerful coalition he was + forming. + </p> + <p> + “It shall be as you wish,” answered him the gracious Lord of Urbino, “and + the betrothal shall be proclaimed to-day, so that you can bear news of it + to Valentino's messenger. When you have heard this envoy, deliver him an + answer of such defiance or such caution as you please. Then return in ten + days' time to Urbino, and all shall be ready for the nuptials. But, first + of all, go you and tell Monna Valentina.” + </p> + <p> + Confident of success, Gian Maria obeyed his host, and went in quest of the + lady. He gained her ante-chamber, and thence he despatched an idling page + to request of her the honour of an audience. + </p> + <p> + As the youth passed through the door that led to the room beyond, Gian + Maria caught for a moment the accents of an exquisite male voice singing a + love-song to the accompaniment of a lute. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Una donna piĂą bella assai che 'l sole...” + </pre> + <p> + came the words of Petrarch, and he heard them still, though muffled, for a + moment or two after the boy had gone. Then it ceased abruptly, and a pause + followed, at the end of which the page returned. Raising the portière of + blue and gold, he invited Gian Maria to enter. + </p> + <p> + It was a room that spoke with eloquence of the wealth and refinement of + Montefeltro, from the gilding and ultramarine of the vaulted ceiling with + its carved frieze of delicately inlaid woodwork, to the priceless + tapestries beneath it. Above a crimson prie-dieu hung a silver crucifix, + the exquisite workmanship of the famous Anichino of Ferrara. Yonder stood + an inlaid cabinet, surmounted by a crystal mirror and some wonders of + Murano glass. There was a picture by Mantegna, some costly cameos and + delicate enamels, an abundance of books, a dulcimer which a fair-haired + page was examining with inquisitive eyes, and by a window on the right + stood a very handsome harp that Guidobaldo had bought his niece in Venice. + </p> + <p> + In that choice apartment of hers the Duke found Valentina surrounded by + her ladies, Peppe the fool, a couple of pages, and a half-dozen gentlemen + of her uncle's court. One of these—that same Gonzaga who had + escorted her from the Convent of Santa Sofia—most splendidly arrayed + in white taby, his vest and doublet rich with gold, sat upon a low stool, + idly fingering the lute in his lap, from which Gian Maria inferred that + his had been the voice that had reached him in the ante-chamber. + </p> + <p> + At the Duke's advent they all rose saving Valentina and received him with + a ceremony that somewhat chilled his ardour. He advanced; then halted + clumsily, and in a clumsy manner framed a request that he might speak with + her alone. In a tired, long-suffering way she dismissed that court of + hers, and Gian Maria stood waiting until the last of them had passed out + through the tall windows that abutted on to a delightful terrace, where, + in the midst of a green square, a marble fountain flashed and glimmered in + the sunlight. + </p> + <p> + “Lady,” he said, when they were at last alone, “I have news from Babbiano + that demands my instant return.” And he approached her by another step. + </p> + <p> + In truth he was a dull-witted fellow or else too blinded by fatuity to see + and interpret aright the sudden sparkle in her eye, the sudden, + unmistakable expression of relief that spread itself upon her face. + </p> + <p> + “My lord,” she answered, in a low, collected voice, “we shall grieve at + your departure.” + </p> + <p> + Fool of a Duke that he was! Blind, crass and most fatuous of wooers! Had + he been bred in courts and his ears attuned to words that meant nothing, + that were but the empty echoes of what should have been meant; was he so + new to courtesies in which the heart had no share, that those words of + Valentina's must bring him down upon his knees beside her, to take her + dainty fingers in his fat hands, and to become transformed into a boorish + lover of the most outrageous type? + </p> + <p> + “Shall you so?” he lisped, his glance growing mighty amorous. “Shall you + indeed grieve?” + </p> + <p> + She rose abruptly to her feet. + </p> + <p> + “I beg that your Highness will rise,” she enjoined him coldly, a coldness + which changed swiftly to alarm as her endeavours to release her hand + proved vain. For despite her struggles he held on stoutly. This was mere + coyness, he assured himself, mere maidenly artifice which he must bear + with until he had overcome it for all time. + </p> + <p> + “My lord, I implore you!” she continued. “Bethink you of where you are—of + who you are.” + </p> + <p> + “Here will I stay until the crack of doom,” he answered, with an odd + mixture of humour, ardour and ferocity, “unless you consent to listen to + me.” + </p> + <p> + “I am ready to listen, my lord,” she answered, without veiling a + repugnance that he lacked the wit to see. “But it is not necessary that + you should hold my hand, nor fitting that you should kneel.” + </p> + <p> + “Not fitting?” he exclaimed. “Lady, you do not apprehend me rightly. Is it + not fitting that all of us—be we princes or vassals—shall + kneel sometimes?” + </p> + <p> + “At your prayers, my lord, yes, most fitting.” + </p> + <p> + “And is not a man at his prayers when he woos? What fitter shrine in all + the world than his mistress's feet?” + </p> + <p> + “Release me,” she commanded, still struggling. “Your Highness grows + tiresome and ridiculous.” + </p> + <p> + “Ridiculous?” + </p> + <p> + His great, sensual mouth fell open. His white cheeks grew mottled, and his + little eyes looked up with a mighty evil gleam in their cruel blue. A + moment he stayed so, then he rose up. He released her hands as she had + bidden him, but he clutched her arms instead, which was yet worse. + </p> + <p> + “Valentina,” he said, in a voice that was far from steady, “why do you use + me thus unkindly?” + </p> + <p> + “But I do not,” she protested wearily, drawing back with a shudder from + the white face that was so near her own, inspiring her with a loathing she + could not repress. “I would not have your Highness look foolish, and you + cannot conceive how——” + </p> + <p> + “Can you conceive how deeply, how passionately I love you?” he broke in, + his grasp tightening. + </p> + <p> + “My lord, you are hurting me!” + </p> + <p> + “And are you not hurting me?” he snarled. “What is a pinched arm when + compared with such wounds as your eyes are dealing me? Are you not——” + </p> + <p> + She had twisted from his grasp, and in a bound she had reached the + window-door through which her attendants had passed. + </p> + <p> + “Valentina!” he cried, as he sprang after her, and it was more like the + growl of a beast than the cry of a lover. He caught her, and with scant + ceremony he dragged her back into the room. + </p> + <p> + At this, her latent loathing, contempt and indignation rose up in arms. + Never had she heard tell of a woman of her rank being used in this + fashion. She abhorred him, yet she had spared him the humiliation of + hearing it from her lips, intending to fight for her liberty with her + uncle. But now, since he handled her as though she had been a + serving-wench; since he appeared to know nothing of the deference due to + her, nothing of the delicacies of people well-born and well-bred, she + would endure his odious love-making no further. Since he elected to pursue + his wooing like a clown, the high-spirited daughter of Urbino promised + herself that in like fashion would she deal with him. + </p> + <p> + Swinging herself free from his grasp a second time, she caught him a + stinging buffet on the ducal cheek which—so greatly did it take him + by surprise—all but sent him sprawling. + </p> + <p> + “Madonna!” he panted. “This indignity to me!” + </p> + <p> + “And what indignities have not I suffered at your hands?” she retorted, + with a fierceness of glance before which he recoiled. And as she now + towered before him, a beautiful embodiment of wrath, he knew not whether + he loved her more than he feared her, yet the desire to possess her and to + tame her was strong within him. + </p> + <p> + “Am I a baggage of your camps,” she questioned furiously, “to be so + handled by you? Do you forget that I am the niece of Guidobaldo, a lady of + the house of Rovere, and that from my cradle I have known naught but the + respect of all men, be they born never so high? That to such by my birth I + have the right? Must I tell you in plain words, sir, that though born to a + throne, your manners are those of a groom? And must I tell you, ere you + will realise it, that no man to whom with my own lips I have not given the + right, shall set hands upon me as you have done?” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes flashed, her voice rose, and higher raged the storm; and Gian + Maria was so tossed and shattered by it that he could but humbly sue for + pardon. + </p> + <p> + “What shall it signify that I am a Duke,” he pleaded timidly, “since I am + become a lover? What is a Duke then? He is but a man, and as the meanest + of his subjects his love must take expression. For what does love know of + rank?” + </p> + <p> + She was moving towards the window again, and for all that he dared not a + second time arrest her by force, he sought by words to do so. + </p> + <p> + “Madonna,” he exclaimed, “I implore you to hear me. In another hour I + shall be in the saddle, on my way to Babbiano.” + </p> + <p> + “That, sir,” she answered him, “is the best news I have heard since your + coming.” And without waiting for his reply, she stepped through the open + window on to the terrace. + </p> + <p> + For a second he hesitated, a sense of angry humiliation oppressing his + wits. Then he started to follow her; but as he reached the window the + little crook-backed figure of Ser Peppe stood suddenly before him with a + tinkle of bells, and a mocking grin illumining his face. + </p> + <p> + “Out of the way, fool,” growled the angry Duke. But the odd figure in its + motley of red and black continued where it stood. + </p> + <p> + “If it is Madonna Valentina you seek,” said he, “behold her yonder.” + </p> + <p> + And Gian Maria, following the indication of Peppe's lean finger, saw that + she had rejoined her ladies and that thus his opportunity of speaking with + her was at an end. He turned his shoulder upon the jester, and moved + ponderously towards the door by which he had originally entered the room. + It had been well for Ser Peppe had he let him go. But the fool, who loved + his mistress dearly, and had many of the instincts of the faithful dog, + loving where she loved and hating where she hated, could not repress the + desire to send a gibe after the retreating figure, and inflict another + wound in that much wounded spirit. + </p> + <p> + “You find it a hard road to Madonna's heart, Magnificent,” he called after + him. “Where your wisdom is blind be aided by the keen eyes of folly.” + </p> + <p> + The Duke stood still. A man more dignified would have left that + treacherous tongue unheeded. But Dignity and Gian Maria were strangers. He + turned, and eyed the figure that now followed him into the room. + </p> + <p> + “You have knowledge to sell,” he guessed contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + “Knowledge I have—a vast store—but none for sale, Lord Duke. + Such as imports you I will bestow if you ask me, for no more than the joy + of beholding you smile.” + </p> + <p> + “Say on,” the Duke bade him, without relaxing the grimness that tightened + his flabby face. + </p> + <p> + Peppe bowed. + </p> + <p> + “It were an easy thing, most High and Mighty, to win the love of Madonna + if——” He paused dramatically. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes. E dunque! If——?” + </p> + <p> + “If you had the noble countenance, the splendid height, the shapely limbs, + the courtly speech and princely manner of one I wot of.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you deriding me?” the Duke questioned, unbelieving. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, no, Highness! I do but tell you how it were possible that my lady + might come to love you. Had you those glorious attributes of him I speak + of, and of whom she dreams, it might be easy. But since God fashioned you + such as you are—gross of countenance, fat and stunted of shape, + boorish of——” + </p> + <p> + With a roar the infuriated Duke was upon him. But the fool, as nimble of + legs as he was of tongue, eluded the vicious grasp of those fat hands, and + leaping through the window, ran to the shelter of his mistress's + petticoats. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. GONZAGA THE INSIDIOUS + </h2> + <p> + Well indeed had it been for Ser Peppe had he restrained his malicious mood + and curbed the mocking speech that had been as vinegar to Gian Maria's + wounds. For when Gian Maria was sore he was wont to be vindictive, and on + the present occasion he was something even more. + </p> + <p> + There abode with him the memory of the fool's words, and the suggestion + that in the heart of Valentina was framed the image of some other man. + Now, loving her, in his own coarse way, and as he understood love, the + rejected Duke waxed furiously jealous of this other at whose existence + Peppe had hinted. This unknown stood in his path to Valentina, and to + clear that path it suggested itself to Gian Maria that the simplest method + was to remove the obstacle. But first he must discover it, and to this he + thought, with a grim smile, the fool might—willy-nilly—help + him. + </p> + <p> + He returned to his own apartments, and whilst the preparations for his + departure were toward, he bade Alvaro summon Martin Armstadt—the + captain of his guard. To the latter his orders were short and secret. + </p> + <p> + “Take four men,” he bade him, “and remain in Urbino after I am gone. + Discover the haunts of Peppe the fool. Seize him, and bring him after me. + See that you do it diligently, and let no suspicion of your task arise.” + </p> + <p> + The bravo—he was little better, for all that he commanded the guards + of the Duke of Babbiano—bowed, and answered in his foreign, guttural + voice that his Highness should be obeyed. + </p> + <p> + Thereafter Gian Maria made shift to depart. He took his leave of + Guidobaldo, promising to return within a few days for the nuptials, and + leaving an impression upon the mind of his host that his interview with + Valentina had been very different from the actual. + </p> + <p> + It was from Valentina herself that Guidobaldo was to learn, after Gian + Maria's departure, the true nature of that interview, and what had passed + between his niece and his guest. She sought him out in his closet, whither + he had repaired, driven thither by the demon of gout that already + inhabited his body, and was wont to urge him at times to isolate himself + from his court. She found him reclining upon a couch, seeking distraction + in a volume of the prose works of Piccinino. He was a handsome man, of + excellent shape, scarce thirty years of age. His face was pale, and there + were dark circles round his eyes, and lines of pain about his strong + mouth. + </p> + <p> + He sat up at her advent, and setting his book upon the table beside him, + he listened to her angry complaints. + </p> + <p> + At first, the courtly Montefeltro inclined to anger upon learning of the + roughness with which Gian Maria had borne himself. But presently he + smiled. + </p> + <p> + “When all is said, I see in this no great cause for indignation,” he + assured her. “I acknowledge that it may lack the formality that should + attend the addresses of a man in the Duke's position to a lady in yours. + But since he is to wed you, and that soon, why be angered at that he seeks + to pay his court like any other man?” + </p> + <p> + “I have talked in vain, then,” she answered petulantly, “and I am + misunderstood. I do not intend to wed this ducal clod you have chosen to + be my husband.” + </p> + <p> + Guidobaldo stared at her with brows raised, and wonder in his fine eyes. + Then he shrugged his shoulders a trifle wearily. This handsome and + well-beloved Guidobaldo was very much a prince, so schooled to princely + ways as to sometimes forget that he was a man. + </p> + <p> + “We forgive much to the impetuousness of youth,” said he, very coldly. + “But there are bounds to the endurance of every one of us. As your uncle + and your prince, I claim a double duty from you, and you owe a double + allegiance to my wishes. By my twofold authority I have commanded you to + wed with Gian Maria.” + </p> + <p> + The princess in her was all forgotten, and it was just the woman who + answered him, in a voice of protest: + </p> + <p> + “But, Highness, I do not love him.” + </p> + <p> + A shade of impatience crossed his lofty face. + </p> + <p> + “I do not remember,” he made answer wearily, “that I loved your aunt. Yet + we were wed, and through habit came to love each other and to be happy + together.” + </p> + <p> + “I can understand that Monna Elizabetta should have come to love you,” she + returned. “You are not as Gian Maria. You were not fat and ugly, stupid + and cruel, as is he.” + </p> + <p> + It was an appeal that might have won its way to a man's heart through the + ever-ready channel of his vanity. But it did not so with Guidobaldo. He + only shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “The matter is not one that I will argue. It were unworthy in us both. + Princes, my child, are not as ordinary folk.” + </p> + <p> + “In what are they different?” she flashed back at him. “Do they not hunger + and thirst as ordinary folk? Are they not subject to the same ills; do + they not experience the same joys? Are they not born, and do they not die, + just as ordinary folk? In what, then, lies this difference that forbids + them to mate as ordinary folk?” + </p> + <p> + Guidobaldo tossed his arms to Heaven, his eyes full of a consternation + that clearly defied utterance. The violence of his gesture drew a gasp of + pain from him. At last, when he had mastered it: + </p> + <p> + “They are different,” said he, “in that their lives are not their own to + dispose of as they will. They belong to the State which they were born to + govern, and in nothing else does this become of so much importance as in + their mating. It behoves them to contract such alliances as shall redound + to the advantage of their people.” A toss of her auburn head was + Valentina's interpolation, but her uncle continued relentlessly in his + cold, formal tones—such tones as those in which he might have + addressed an assembly of his captains: + </p> + <p> + “In the present instance we are threatened—Babbiano and Urbino—by + a common foe. And whilst divided, neither of us could withstand him, + united, we shall combine to his overthrow. Therefore does this alliance + become necessary—imperative.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not apprehend the necessity,” she answered, in a voice that breathed + defiance. “If such an alliance as you speak of is desirable, why may it + not be made a purely political one—such a one, for instance, as now + binds Perugia and Camerino to you? What need to bring me into question?” + </p> + <p> + “A little knowledge of history would afford you an answer. Such political + alliances are daily made, and daily broken when more profit offers in + another quarter. But cemented by marriage, the tie, whilst continuing + political, becomes also one of blood. In the case of Urbino and Babbiano + it enters also into consideration that I have no son. It might well be, + Valentina,” he pursued, with a calculating coldness that revolted her, + “that a son of yours would yet more strongly link the two duchies. In time + both might become united under him into one great power that might vie + successfully with any in Italy. Now leave me, child. As you see, I am + suffering, and when it is thus with me, and this evil tyrant has me in its + clutches, I prefer to be alone.” + </p> + <p> + There was a pause, and whilst his eyes were upon hers, hers were upon the + ground in avoidance of his glance. A frown marred her white brow, her lips + were set and her hands clenched. Pity for his physical ills fought a while + with pity for her own mental torment. At last she threw back her beautiful + head, and the manner of that action was instinct with insubordination. + </p> + <p> + “It grieves me to harass your Highness in such a season,” she assured him, + “but I must beg your indulgence. These things may be as you say. Your + plans may be the noblest that were ever conceived, since to their + consummation would be entailed the sacrifice of your own flesh and blood—in + the person of your niece. But I will have no part in them. It may be that + I lack a like nobility of soul; it may be that I am all unworthy of the + high station to which I was born, through no fault of my own. And so, my + lord,” she ended, her voice, her face, her gesture, all imparting an + irrevocable finality to her words, “I will not wed this Duke of Babbiano—no, + not to cement alliances with a hundred duchies.” + </p> + <p> + “Valentina!” he exclaimed, roused out of his wonted calm. “Do you forget + that you are my niece?” + </p> + <p> + “Since you appear to have forgotten it.” + </p> + <p> + “These woman's whims——” he began, when she interrupted him. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps they will serve to remind you that I am a woman, and perhaps if + you remember that, you may consider how very natural it is that, being a + woman, I should refuse to wed for—for political ends.” + </p> + <p> + “To your chamber,” he commanded, now thoroughly aroused. “And on your + knees beg Heaven's grace to help you to see your duty, since no words of + mine prevail.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that the Duchess were returned from Mantua,” she sighed. “The good + Monna Elizabetta might melt you to some pity.” + </p> + <p> + “Monna Elizabetta is too dutiful herself to do aught but urge you to + dutifulness. There, child,” he added, in a more wheedling tone, “set aside + this disobedient mood, which is unlike you and becomes you ill. You shall + be wed with a splendour and magnificence that will set every princess in + Italy green with envy. Your dowry is set at fifty thousand ducats, and + Giuliano della Rovere shall pronounce the benediction. Already I have sent + orders to Ferrara, to the incomparable Anichino, for the majestate girdle; + I will send to Venice for gold leaf and——” + </p> + <p> + “But do you not heed me that I will not wed?” she broke in with passionate + calm, her face white, her bosom heaving. + </p> + <p> + He rose, leaning heavily upon a gold-headed cane, and looked at her a + moment without speaking, his brows contracted. Then: + </p> + <p> + “Your betrothal to Gian Maria is proclaimed,” he announced in a voice cold + with finality. “I have passed my word to the Duke, and your marriage shall + take place so soon as he returns. Now go. Such scenes as these are + wearisome to a sick man, and they are undignified.” + </p> + <p> + “But, your Highness,” she began, an imploring note now taking the place + that lately had been held by defiance. + </p> + <p> + “Go!” he blazed, stamping his foot, and then to save his dignity—for + he feared that she might still remain—he himself turned on his heel + and passed from the apartment. + </p> + <p> + Left to herself, she stood there a moment, allowed a sigh to escape her, + and brushed an angry tear from her brown eyes. Then, with a sudden + movement that seemed to imply suppression of her mood, she walked to the + door by which she entered, and left the chamber. + </p> + <p> + She went down the long gallery, whose walls glowed with the new frescoes + from the wonder-working brush of Andrea Mantegna; she crossed her + ante-chamber and gained the very room where some hours ago she had + received the insult of Gian Maria's odious advances. She passed through + the now empty room, and stepped out on to the terrace that overlooked the + paradise-like gardens of the Palace. + </p> + <p> + Close by the fountain stood a white marble seat, over which, earlier that + day, one of her women had thrown a cloak of crimson velvet. There she now + sat herself to think out the monstrous situation that beset her. The air + was warm and balmy and heavy with the scent of flowers from the garden + below. The splashing of the fountain seemed to soothe her, and for a + little while her eyes were upon that gleaming water, which rose high in a + crystal column, then broke and fell, a shower of glittering jewels, into + the broad marble basin. Then, her eyes growing tired, they strayed to the + marble balustrade, where a peacock strode with overweening dignity; they + passed on to the gardens below, gay with early blossoms, in their stately + frames of tall, boxwood hedges, and flanked by myrtles and tall cypresses + standing gaunt and black against the deep saffron of the vesper sky. + </p> + <p> + Saving the splashing of the fountain, and the occasional harsh scream of + the peacock, all was at peace, as if by contrast with the tumult that + raged in Valentina's soul. Then another sound broke the stillness—a + soft step, crunching the gravel of the walk. She turned, and behind her + stood the magnificent Gonzaga, a smile that at once reflected pleasure and + surprise upon his handsome face. + </p> + <p> + “Alone, Madonna?” he said, in accents of mild wonder, his fingers softly + stirring the strings of the lute he carried, and without which he seldom + appeared about the Court. + </p> + <p> + “As you see,” she answered, and her tone was the tone of one whose + thoughts are taken up with other things. + </p> + <p> + Her glance moved away from him again, and in a moment it seemed as if she + had forgotten his presence, so absorbed grew the expression of her face. + </p> + <p> + But Gonzaga was not easily discouraged. Patience was the one virtue that + Valentina more than any woman—and there had been many in his young + life—had inculcated into a soul that in the main was anything but + virtuous. He came a step nearer, and leant lightly against the edge of her + seat, his shapely legs crossed, his graceful body inclining ever so + slightly towards her. + </p> + <p> + “You are pensive, Madonna,” he murmured, in his rich, caressing voice. + </p> + <p> + “Why then,” she reproved him, but in a mild tone, “do you intrude upon my + thoughts?” + </p> + <p> + “Because they seem sad thoughts, Madonna.” he answered, glibly, “and I + were a poor friend did I not seek to rouse you out of them.” + </p> + <p> + “You are that, Gonzaga?” she questioned, without looking at him. “You are + my friend?” + </p> + <p> + He seemed to quiver and then draw himself upright, whilst across his face + there swept a shade of something that may have been good or bad or partly + both. Then he leant down until his head came very near her own. + </p> + <p> + “Your friend?” quoth he. “Ah, more than your friend. Count me your very + slave, Madonna.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him now, and in his countenance she saw a reflection of the + ardour that had spoken in his voice. In his eyes there was a glance of + burning intensity. She drew away from him, and at first he accounted + himself repulsed, but pointing to the space she had left: + </p> + <p> + “Sit here beside me, Gonzaga,” she said quietly, and he, scarce crediting + his own good fortune that so much favour should be showered upon him, + obeyed her in a half-timid fashion that was at odd variance with his late + bold words. + </p> + <p> + He laughed lightly, perhaps to cover the embarrassment that beset him, and + dropping his jewelled cap, he flung one white-cased leg over the other and + took his lute in his lap, his fingers again wandering to the strings. + </p> + <p> + “I have a new song, Madonna,” he announced, with a gaiety that was + obviously forced. “It is in ottava rima, a faint echo of the immortal + Niccolo Correggio, composed in honour of one whose description is beyond + the flight of human song.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet you sing of her?” + </p> + <p> + “It is no better than an acknowledgment of the impossibility to sing of + her. Thus——” And striking a chord or two, he began, a mezza + voce: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Quando sorriderán' in ciel + Gli occhi tuoi ai santi—” + </pre> + <p> + She laid a hand upon his arm to stay him. + </p> + <p> + “Not now, Gonzaga,” she begged, “I am in no humour for your song, sweet + though I doubt not that it be.” + </p> + <p> + A shade of disappointment and ruffled vanity crossed his face. Women had + been wont to listen greedily to his strambotti, enthralled by the cunning + of the words and the seductive sweetness of his voice. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, never look so glum,” she cried, smiling now at his crestfallen air. + “If I have not hearkened now, I will again. Forgive me, good Gonzaga,” she + begged him, with a sweetness no man could have resisted. And then a sigh + fluttered from her lips; a sound that was like a sob came after it, and + her hand closed upon his arm. + </p> + <p> + “They are breaking my heart, my friend. Oh, that you had left me at peace + in the Convent of Santa Sofia!” + </p> + <p> + He turned to her, all solicitude and gentleness, to inquire the reason of + her outburst. + </p> + <p> + “It is this odious alliance into which they seek to force me with that man + from Babbiano. I have told Guidobaldo that I will not wed this Duke. But + as profitably might I tell Fate that I will not die. The one is as + unheeding as the other.” + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga sighed profoundly, in sympathy, but said nothing. + </p> + <p> + Here was a grief to which he could not minister, a grievance that he could + do nothing to remove. She turned from him with a gesture of impatience. + </p> + <p> + “You sigh,” she exclaimed, “and you bewail the cruelty of the fate in + store for me. But you can do nothing for me. You are all words, Gonzaga. + You can call yourself more than my friend—my very slave. Yet, when I + need your help, what do you offer me? A sigh!” + </p> + <p> + “Madonna, you are unjust,” he was quick to answer, with some heat. “I did + not dream—I did not dare to dream—that it was my help you + sought. My sympathy, I believed, was all that you invited, and so, lest I + should seem presumptuous, it was all I offered. But if my help you need; + if you seek a means to evade this alliance that you rightly describe as + odious, such help as it lies in a man's power to render shall you have + from me.” + </p> + <p> + He spoke almost fiercely and with a certain grim confidence, for all that + as yet no plan had formed itself in his mind. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, had a course been clear to him, there had been perhaps less + confidence in his tone, for, after all, he was not by nature a man of + action, and his character was the very reverse of valiant. Yet so + excellent an actor was he as to deceive even himself by his acting, and in + this suggestion of some vague fine deeds that he would do, he felt himself + stirred by a sudden martial ardour, and capable of all. He was stirred, + too, by the passion with which Valentina's beauty filled him—a + passion that went nearer to making a man of him than Nature had succeeded + in doing. + </p> + <p> + That now, in the hour of her need, she should turn so readily to him for + assistance, he accepted as proof that she was not deaf to the voice of + this great love he bore her, but of which he never yet had dared to show a + sign. The passing jelousy that he had entertained for that wounded knight + they had met at Acquasparta was laid to rest by her present attitude + towards him, the knight, himself forgotten. + </p> + <p> + As for Valentina, she listened to his ready speech and earnest tone with + growing wonder both at him and at herself. Her own words had been little + more than a petulant outburst. Of actually finding a way to elude her + uncle's wishes she had no thought—unless it lay in carrying out that + threat of hers to take the veil. Now, however, that Gonzaga spoke so + bravely of doing what man could do to help her to evade that marriage, the + thought of active resistance took an inviting shape. + </p> + <p> + A timid hope—a hope that was afraid of being shattered before it + grew to any strength—peeped now from the wondering eyes she turned + on her companion. + </p> + <p> + “Is there a way, Gonzaga?” she asked, after a pause. + </p> + <p> + Now during that pause his mind had been very busy. Something of a poet, he + was blessed with wits of a certain quickness, and was a man of very ready + fancy. Like an inspiration an idea had come to him; out of this had sprung + another, and yet another, until a chain of events by which the frustration + of the schemes of Babbiano and Urbino might be accomplished, was complete. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” he said slowly, his eyes upon the ground, “that I know a way.” + </p> + <p> + Her glance was now eager, her lip tremulous, and her face a little pale. + She leant towards him. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me,” she besought him feverishly. + </p> + <p> + He set his lute on the seat beside him, and his eyes looked round in + apprehensive survey. + </p> + <p> + “Not here,” he muttered. “There are too many ears in the Palace of Urbino. + Will it please you to walk in the gardens? I will tell you there.” + </p> + <p> + They rose together, so ready was her assent. They looked at each other for + a second. Then, side by side, they passed down the wide marble steps that + led from the terrace to the box-flanked walks of the gardens. Here, among + the lengthening shadows, they paced in silence for a while, what time + Gonzaga sought for words in which to propound his plan. At length, grown + impatient, Valentina urged him with a question. + </p> + <p> + “What I counsel, Madonna,” he answered her, “is open defiance.” + </p> + <p> + “Such a course I am already pursuing. But whither will it lead me?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not mean the mere defiance of words—mere protestations that + you will not wed Gian Maria. Listen, Madonna! The Castle of Roccaleone is + your property. It is perhaps the stoutest fortress in all Italy, to-day. + Lightly garrisoned and well-provisioned it might withstand a year's + siege.” + </p> + <p> + She turned to him, having guessed already the proposal in his mind, and + for all that at first her eyes looked startled, yet presently they kindled + to a light of daring that augured well for a very stout adventure. It was + a wildly romantic notion, this of Gonzaga's, worthy of a poet's perfervid + brain, and yet it attracted her by its unprecedented flavour. + </p> + <p> + “Could it be done?” she wondered, her eyes sparkling at the anticipation + of such a deed. + </p> + <p> + “It could, indeed it could,” he answered, with an eagerness no whit less + than her own. “Immure yourself in Roccaleone, and thence hurl defiance at + Urbino and Babbiano, refusing to surrender until they grant your terms—that + you are to marry as you list.” + </p> + <p> + “And you will help me in this?” she questioned, her mind—in its + innocence—inclining more and more to the mad project. + </p> + <p> + “With all my strength and wit,” he answered, readily and gallantly. “I + will so victual the place that it shall be able to stand siege for a whole + year, should the need arise, and I will find you the men to arm it—a + score will, I should think, be ample for our needs, since it is mainly + upon the natural strength of the place that we rely.” + </p> + <p> + “And then,” said she, “I shall need a captain.” + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga made her a low bow. + </p> + <p> + “If you will honour me with the office, Madonna, I shall serve you loyally + whilst I have life.” + </p> + <p> + A smile quivered for a second on her lips, but was gone ere the courtier + had straightened himself from his bow, for far was it from her wishes to + wound his spirit. But the notion of this scented fop in the role of + captain, ruling a handful of rough mercenaries, and directing the + operations for the resistance of an assiduous siege, touched her with its + ludicrous note. Yet, if she refused him this, it was more than likely he + would deem himself offended, and refuse to advance their plans. It crossed + her mind—in the full confidence of youth—that if he should + fail her when the hour of action came, she was of stout enough heart to + aid herself. And so she consented, whereat again he bowed, this time in + gratitude. And then a sudden thought occurred to her, and with it came + dismay. + </p> + <p> + “But for all this, Gonzaga—for the men and the victualling—money + will be needed.” + </p> + <p> + “If you will let my friendship be proven also in that——” he + began. + </p> + <p> + But she interrupted him, struck suddenly with a solution to the riddle. + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” she exclaimed. His face fell a little. He had hoped to place her + in his debt in every possible way, yet here was one in which she raised a + barrier. Upon her head she wore a fret of gold, so richly laced with + pearls as to be worth a prince's ransom. This she now made haste to + unfasten with fingers that excitement set a-tremble. “There!” she cried, + holding it out to him. “Turn that to money, my friend. It should yield you + ducats enough for this enterprise.” + </p> + <p> + It next occurred to her that she could not go alone into that castle with + just Gonzaga and the men he was about to enrol. His answer came with a + promptness that showed he had considered, also, that. + </p> + <p> + “By no means,” he answered her. “When the time comes you must select such + of your ladies—say three or four—as appear suitable and have + your trust. You may take a priest as well, a page or two, and a few + servants.” + </p> + <p> + Thus, in the gloaming, amid the shadows of that old Italian garden, was + the plot laid by which Valentina was to escape alliance with his Highness + of Babbiano. But there was more than that in it, although that was all + that Valentina saw. It was, too, a plot by which she might become the wife + of Messer Romeo Gonzaga. + </p> + <p> + He was an exiled member of that famous Mantua family, which has bred some + scoundrels and one saint. With the money which, at parting, a doting + mother had bestowed upon him, he was cutting a brave figure at the Urbino + court, where he was tolerated by virtue of his kinship with Guidobaldo's + Duchess, Monna Elizabetta. But his means were running low, and it behoved + him to turn his attention to such quarters as might yield him profit. + Being poor-spirited, and—since his tastes had not inclined that way—untrained + in arms, it would have been futile for him to have sought the career + common to adventurers of his age. Yet an adventurer at heart he was, and + since the fields of Mars were little suited to his nature, he had long + pondered upon the possibilities afforded him by the lists of Cupid. + Guidobaldo—purely out of consideration for Monna Elizabetta—had + shown him a high degree of favour, and upon this he had been vain enough + to found great hopes—for Guidobaldo had two nieces. High had these + hopes run when he was chosen to escort the lovely Valentina della Rovere + from the Convent of Santa Sofia to her uncle's court. But of late they had + withered, since he had learnt what were her uncle's plans for this lady's + future. And now, by her own action, and by the plot into which she had + entered with him, they rose once more. + </p> + <p> + To thwart Guidobaldo might prove a dangerous thing, and his life might pay + the forfeit if his schemes miscarried—clement and merciful though + Guidobaldo was. But if they succeeded, and if by love or by force he could + bring Valentina to wed him, he was tolerably confident that Guidobaldo, + seeing matters had gone too far—since Gian Maria would certainly + refuse to wed Gonzaga's widow—would let them be. To this end no plan + could be more propitious than that into which he had lured her. Guidobaldo + might besiege them in Roccaleone and might eventually reduce them by force + of arms—a circumstance, however, which, despite his words, he deemed + extremely remote. But if only he could wed Valentina before they + capitulated, he thought that he would have little cause to fear any + consequences of Guidobaldo's wrath. After all, in so far as birth and + family were concerned, Romeo Gonzaga was nowise the inferior of his + Highness of Urbino. Guidobaldo had yet another niece, and he might cement + with her the desired alliance with Babbiano. + </p> + <p> + Alone in the gardens of the Palace, Gonzaga paced after night had fallen, + and with his eyes to the stars that began to fleck the violet sky, he + smiled a smile of cunning gratification. He bethought him how well advised + had been his suggestion that they should take a priest to Roccaleone. + Unless his prophetic sense led him deeply into error, they would find work + for that priest before the castle was surrendered. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. AMONG THE DREGS OF WINE + </h2> + <p> + And so it befell that whilst by Guidobaldo's orders the preparations for + Valentina's nuptials went forward with feverish haste—whilst + painters, carvers, and artificers in gold and silver applied themselves to + their hurried tasks; whilst messengers raced to Venice for gold leaf and + ultramarine for the wedding-chests whilst the nuptial bed was being + brought from Rome and the chariot from Ferrara; whilst costly stuffs were + being collected, and the wedding-garments fashioned—the magnificent + Romeo Gonzaga was, on his side, as diligently contriving to render vain + all that toil of preparation. + </p> + <p> + On the evening of the third day of his conspiring he sat in the room + allotted to him in the Palace of Urbino, and matured his plans. And so + well pleased was he with his self-communion that, as he sat at his window, + there was a contented smile upon his lips. + </p> + <p> + He allowed his glance to stray adown the slopes of that arid waste of + rocks, to the River Metauro, winding its way to the sea, through fertile + plains, and gleaming here silver and yonder gold in the evening light. Not + quite so complacently would he have smiled had he deemed the enterprise + upon which he was engaging to be of that warlike character which he had + represented to Valentina. He did not want for cunning, nor for judgment of + the working of human minds, and he very reasonably opined that once the + Lady Valentina immured herself in Roccaleone and sent word to her uncle + that she would not wed Gian Maria, nor return to the Court of Urbino until + he passed her his ducal word that she should hear no more of the union, + the Duke would be the first to capitulate. + </p> + <p> + He contended that this might not happen at once—nor did he wish it + to; messages would pass, and Guidobaldo would seek by cajolery to win back + his niece. This she would resist, and, in the end her uncle would see the + impassable nature of the situation, and agree to her terms that it might + be ended. That it should come to arms, and that Guidobaldo should move to + besiege Roccaleone, he did not for a moment believe—for what manner + of ridicule would he not draw upon himself from the neighbouring States? + At the worst, even if a siege there was, it would never be carried out + with the rigour of ordinary warfare; there would be no assaults, no + bombarding; it would be a simple investment, with the object of + intercepting resources, so as to starve the garrison into submission—for + they would never dream of such victualling as Gonzaga was preparing. + </p> + <p> + Thus communed Gonzaga with himself, and the smile enlivening the corners + of his weak mouth grew more thoughtful. He dreamed great dreams that + evening; he had wondrous visions of a future princely power that should + come to be his own by virtue of this alliance that he was so skilfully + encompassing—a fool in a fool's paradise, with his folly for only + company. + </p> + <p> + But for all that, his dreams were wondrous sweet to indulge and his + visions truly alluring to contemplate. There were plans to be formed and + means to be devised for the flight to Roccaleone. There were calculations + to be made; the estimating of victuals, arms, and men; and once these + calculations were complete, there were all these things to be obtained. + The victuals he had already provided for, whilst of arms he had no need to + think; Roccaleone should be well stocked with them. But the finding of the + men gave him some concern. He had decided to enrol a score, which was + surely the smallest number with which he could make a fair show of being + martially in earnest. But even though the number was modest, where was he + to find twenty fellows who reeked so little of their lives as to embark + upon such an enterprise—even if lured by generous pay—and + thereby incur the ducal displeasure of Guidobaido? + </p> + <p> + He dressed himself with sober rigour for once in his foppish life, and + descended, after night had fallen, to a tavern in a poor street behind the + Duomo, hoping that there, among the dregs of wine, he might find what he + required. + </p> + <p> + By great good fortune he chanced upon an old freebooting captain, who once + had been a meaner sort of condottiero, but who was sorely reduced by bad + fortune and bad wine. + </p> + <p> + The tavern was a dingy, cut-throat place, which the delicate Gonzaga had + not entered without a tremor, invoking the saints' protection, and + crossing himself ere he set foot across the threshold. Some pieces of goat + were being cooked on the embers, in a great fireplace at the end of the + room farthest from the door. Before this, Ser Luciano—the taverner—squatted + on his heels and fanned so diligently that a cloud of ashes rose ceiling + high and spread itself, together with the noisome smoke, throughout the + squalid chamber. A brass lamp swung from the ceiling, and shone freely + through that smoke, as shines the moon through an evening mist. So foully + stank the place that at first Gonzaga was moved to get him thence. Only + the reflection that nowhere in Urbino was he as likely as here to find the + thing he sought, impelled him to stifle his natural squeamishness and + remain. He slipped upon some grease, and barely saved himself from + measuring his length upon that filthy floor, a matter which provoked a + malicious guffaw from a tattered giant who watched with interest his + mincing advent. + </p> + <p> + Perspiring, and with nerves unstrung, the courtier picked his way to a + table by the wall, and seated himself upon the coarse deal bench before + it, praying that he might be left its sole occupant. + </p> + <p> + On the opposite wall hung a blackened crucifix and a small holy-water + stoup that had been dry for a generation, and was now a receptacle for + dust and a withered sprig of rosemary. Immediately beneath this—in + the company of a couple of tatterdemalions worthy of him—sat the + giant who had mocked his escape from falling, and as Gonzaga took his seat + he heard the fellow's voice, guttural, bottle-thickened and contentious. + </p> + <p> + “And this wine, Luciano? Sangue della Madonna! Will you bring it before + dropping dead, pig?” + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga shuddered and would have crossed himself again for protection + against what seemed a very devil incarnate, but that the ruffian's + blood-shot eye was set upon him in a stony stare. + </p> + <p> + “I come, cavaliere, I come,” cried the timid host, leaping to his feet, + and leaving the goat to burn while he ministered to the giant's + unquenchable thirst. + </p> + <p> + The title caused Gonzaga to start, and he bent his eyes again on the man's + face. He found it villainous of expression, inflamed and blotched; the + hair hung matted about a bullet head, and the eyes glared fiercely from + either side of a pendulous nose. Of the knightly rank by which the + taverner addressed him the fellow bore no outward signs. Arms he carried, + it is true; a sword and dagger at his belt, whilst beside him on the table + stood a rusty steel-cap. But these warlike tools served only to give him + the appearance of a roving masnadiero or a cut-throat for hire. Presently + abandoning the comtemplation of Gonzaga he turned to his companions, and + across to the listener floated a coarse and boasting tale of a plunderous + warfare in Sicily ten years agone. Gonzaga became excited. It seemed + indeed as if this were man who might be useful to him. He made pretence to + sip the wine Luciano had brought him, and listened avidly to that + swashbuckling story, from which it appeared that this knave had once been + better circumstanced and something of a leader. Intently he listened, and + wondered whether such men as he boasted he had led in that campaign were + still to be found and could be brought together. + </p> + <p> + At the end of perhaps a half-hour the two companions of that thirsty giant + rose and took their leave of him. They cast a passing glance upon Gonzaga, + and were gone. + </p> + <p> + A little while he hesitated. The ruffian seemed to have lapsed into a + reverie, or else he slept with open eyes. Calling up his courage the + gallant rose at last and moved across the room. All unversed in tavern + ways was the magnificent Gonzaga, and he who at court, in ballroom or in + antechamber, was a very mirror of all the graces of a courtier, felt + awkward here and ill at ease. + </p> + <p> + At length, summoning his wits to his aid: + </p> + <p> + “Good sir,” said he, with some timidity, “will you do me the honour to + share a flagon with me?” + </p> + <p> + The ruffian's eye, which but a moment back had looked vacuous and + melancholy, now quickened until it seemed ablaze. He raised his bloodshot + orbs and boldly encountered Gonzaga's uneasy glance. His lips fell apart + with an anticipatory smack, his back stiffened, and his head was raised + until his chin took on so haughty a tilt that Gonzaga feared his proffered + hospitality was on the point of suffering a scornful rejection. + </p> + <p> + “Will I share a flagon?” gasped the fellow, as, being the sinner that he + was and knew himself to be, he might have gasped: “Will I go to Heaven?” + “Will I—will I——?” He paused, and pursed his lips. His + eyebrows were puckered and his expression grew mighty cunning as again he + took stock of this pretty fellow who offered flagons of wine to + down-at-heel adventurers like himself. He had all but asked what was to be + required of him in exchange for this, when suddenly he bethought him—with + the knavish philosophy adversity had taught him—that were he told + for what it was intended that the wine should bribe him, and did the + business suit him not, he should, in the confession of it, lose the wine; + whilst did he but hold his peace until he had drunk, it would be his + thereafter to please himself about the business when it came to be + proposed. + </p> + <p> + He composed his rugged features into the rude semblance of a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Sweet young sir,” he murmured, “sweet, gentle and most illustrious lord, + I would share a hogshead with such a nobleman as you.” + </p> + <p> + “I am to take it that you will drink?” quoth Gonzaga, who had scarce known + what to make of the man's last words. + </p> + <p> + “Body of Bacchus! Yes. I'll drink with you gentile signorino, until your + purse be empty or the world run dry.” And he leered a mixture of mockery + and satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga, still half uncertain of his ground, called the taverner and bade + him bring a flagon of his best. While Luciano was about the fetching of + the wine, constraint sat upon that oddly discordant pair. + </p> + <p> + “It is a chill night,” commented Gonzaga presently, seating himself + opposite his swashbuckler. + </p> + <p> + “Young sir, your wits have lost their edge. The night is warm. + </p> + <p> + “I said,” spluttered Gonzaga, who was unused to contradiction from his + inferiors, and wished now to assert himself, “that the night is chill.” + </p> + <p> + “You lied, then,” returned the other, with a fresh leer, “for, as I + answered you, the night is warm. Piaghe di Cristo! I am an ill man to + contradict, my pretty gallant, and if I say the night is warm, warm it + shall be though there be snow on Mount Vesuvius.” + </p> + <p> + The courtier turned pink at that, and but for the arrival of the taverner + with the wine, it is possible he might have done an unconscionable + rashness. At sight of the red liquor the fury died out of the ruffler's + face. + </p> + <p> + “A long life, a long thirst, a long purse, and a short memory!” was his + toast, into whose cryptic meaning Gonzaga made no attempt to pry. As the + fellow set down his cup, and with his sleeve removed the moisture from his + unshorn mouth, “May I not learn,” he inquired, “whose hospitality I have + the honour of enjoying?” + </p> + <p> + “Heard you ever of Romeo Gonzaga?” + </p> + <p> + “Of Gonzaga, yes; though of Romeo Gonzaga never. Are you he?” + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga bowed his head. + </p> + <p> + “A noble family yours,” returned the swashbuckler, in a tone that implied + his own to be as good. “Let me name myself to you. I am Ercole Fortemani,” + he said, with the proud air of one who announced himself an emperor. + </p> + <p> + “A formidable name,” said Gonzaga, in accents of surprise, “and it bears a + noble sound.” + </p> + <p> + The great fellow turned on him in a sudden anger. + </p> + <p> + “Why that astonishment?” he blazed. “I tell you my name is both noble and + formidable, and you shall find me as formidable as I am noble. Diavolo! + Seems it incredible?” + </p> + <p> + “Said I so?” protested Gonzaga. + </p> + <p> + “You had been dead by now if you had, Messer Gonzaga. But you thought so, + and I may take leave to show you how bold a man it needs to think so + without suffering.” + </p> + <p> + Ruffled as a turkey-cock, wounded in his pride and in his vanity, Ercole + hastened to enlighten Gonzaga on his personality. + </p> + <p> + “Learn, sir,” he announced, “that I am Captain Ercole Fortemani. I held + that rank in the army of the Pope. I have served the Pisans and the noble + Baglioni of Perugia with honour and distinction. I have commanded a + hundred lances of Gianinoni's famous free-company. I have fought with the + French against the Spaniards, and with the Spaniards against the French, + and I have served the Borgia, who is plotting against both. I have trailed + a pike in the emperor's following, and I have held the rank of captain, + too, in the army of the King of Naples. Now, young sir, you have learned + something of me, and if my name is not written in letters of fire from one + end of Italy to the other, it is—Body of God!—because the + hands that hired me to the work garnered the glory of my deeds.” + </p> + <p> + “A noble record,” said Gonzaga, who had credulously absorbed that + catalogue of lies, “a very noble record.” + </p> + <p> + “Not so,” the other contradicted, for the lust of contradiction that was a + part of him. “A great record, if you will, to commend me to hireling + service. But you may not call the service of a hireling noble.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a matter we will not quarrel over,” said Gonzaga soothingly. The + man's ferocity was terrific. + </p> + <p> + “Who says that we shall not?” he demanded. “Who will baulk me if I have a + mind to quarrel over it? Answer me!” and he half rose from his seat, moved + by the anger into which he was lashing himself. “But patience!” he broke + off, subsiding on a sudden. “I take it, it was not out of regard for my + fine eyes, nor drawn by the elegance of my apparel”—and he raised a + corner of his tattered cloak—“nor yet because you wish to throw a + main with me, that you have sought my acquaintance, and called for this + wine. You require service of me?” + </p> + <p> + “You have guessed it.” + </p> + <p> + “A prodigious discernment, by the Host!” He seemed to incline rather + tediously to irony. Then his face grew stern, and he lowered his voice + until it was no more than a growling whisper. “Heed me, Messer Gonzaga. If + the service you require be the slitting of a gullet or some kindred foul + business, which my seeming neediness leads you to suppose me ripe for, let + me counsel you, as you value your own skin, to leave the service + unmentioned, and get you gone.” + </p> + <p> + In hasty, frantic, fearful protest were Gonzaga's hands outspread. + </p> + <p> + “Sir, sir—I—I could not have thought it of you,” he + spluttered, with warmth, much of which was genuine, for it rejoiced him to + see some scruples still shining in the foul heap of this man's rascally + existence. A knave whose knavery knew no limits would hardly have suited + his ends. “I do need a service, but it is no dark-corner work. It is a + considerable enterprise, and one in which, I think, you should prove the + very man I need.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me know more,” quoth Ercole grandiloquently. + </p> + <p> + “I need first your word that should the undertaking prove unsuited to you, + or beyond you, you will respect the matter, and keep it secret.” + </p> + <p> + “Body of Satan! No corpse was ever half so dumb as I shall be.” + </p> + <p> + “Excellent! Can you find me a score of stout fellows to form a bodyguard + and a garrison, who, in return for good quarters—perchance for some + weeks—and payment at four times the ordinary mercenaries' rate, will + be willing to take some risk, and chance even a brush with the Duke's + forces?” + </p> + <p> + Ercole blew out his mottled cheeks until Gonzaga feared that he would + burst them. + </p> + <p> + “It's outlawry!” he roared, when he had found his voice. “Outlawry, or I'm + a fool.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes,” confessed Gonzaga. “It is outlaw matter of a kind. But the + risk is slender.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you tell me no more?” + </p> + <p> + “I dare not.” + </p> + <p> + Ercole emptied his wine-cup at a draught and splashed the dregs on to the + floor. Then, setting down the empty vessel, he sat steeped in thought + awhile. Growing impatient: + </p> + <p> + “Well,” cried Gonzaga at last, “can you help me? Can you find the men?” + </p> + <p> + “If you were to tell me more of the nature of this service you require, I + might find a hundred with ease.” + </p> + <p> + “As I have said—I need but a score.” + </p> + <p> + Ercole looked mighty grave, and thoughtfully rubbed his long nose. + </p> + <p> + “It might be done,” said he, after a pause. “But we shall have to look for + desperate knaves; men who are already under a ban, and to whom it will + matter little to have another item added to their indebtedness to the law + should they fall into its talons. How soon shall you require this forlorn + company?” + </p> + <p> + “By to-morrow night.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder——” mused Ercole. He was counting on his fingers, and + appeared to have lapsed into mental calculations. “I could get + half-a-score or a dozen within a couple of hours. But a score——” + Again he paused, and again he fell to thinking. At last, more briskly: + “Let us hear what pay you offer me, to thrust myself thus blindfolded into + this business of yours as leader of the company you require?” he asked + suddenly. + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga's face fell at that. Then he suddenly stiffened, and put on an + expression of haughtiness. + </p> + <p> + “It is my intent to lead this company myself,” he loftily informed the + ruffler. + </p> + <p> + “Body of God!” gasped Ercole, upon whose mind intruded a grotesque picture + of such a company as he would assemble, being led by this mincing + carpet-knight. Then recollecting himself: “If that be so,” said he, “you + had best, yourself, enrol it. Felicissima notte!” And he waved him a + farewell across the table. + </p> + <p> + Here was a poser for Gonzaga. How was he to go about such a business as + that? It was beyond his powers. Thus much he protested frankly. + </p> + <p> + “Now attend to me, young sir,” was the other's answer. “The matter stands + thus: If I can repair to certain friends of mine with the information that + an affair is afoot, the particulars of which I may not give them, but in + which I am to lead them myself, sharing such risk as there may be, I do + not doubt but that by this time to-morrow I can have a score of them + enrolled—such is their confidence in Ercole Fortemani. But if I take + them to enter a service unknown, under a leader equally unknown, the + forming of such a company would be a mighty tedious matter.” + </p> + <p> + This was an argument to the force of which Gonzaga could not remain + insensible. After a moment's consideration, he offered Ercole fifty gold + florins in earnest of good faith and the promise of pay, thereafter, at + the rate of twenty gold florins a month for as long as he should need his + services and Ercole, who in all his free-lancing days had never earned the + tenth of such a sum, was ready to fall upon this most noble gentleman's + neck, and weep for very joy and brotherly affection. + </p> + <p> + The matter being settled, Gonzaga produced a heavy bag which gave forth a + jangle mighty pleasant to the ears of Fortemani, and let it drop with a + chink upon the table. + </p> + <p> + “There are a hundred florins for the equipment of this company. I do not + wish to have a regiment of out-at-elbow tatterdemalions at my heels.” And + his eye swept in an uncomplimentary manner over Ercole's apparel. “See + that you dress them fittingly.” + </p> + <p> + “It shall be done, Magnificent,” answered Ercole, with a show of such + respect as he had not hitherto manifested. “And arms?” + </p> + <p> + “Give them pikes and arquebuses, if you will; but nothing more. The place + we are bound for is well stocked with armour—but even that may not + be required.” + </p> + <p> + “May not be required?” echoed the more and more astonished swashbuckler. + Were they to be paid on so lordly a scale, clothed and fed, to induce them + upon a business that might carry no fighting with it? Surely he had never + sold himself into a more likely or promising service, and that night he + dreamt in his sleep that he was become a gentleman's steward, and that at + his heels marched an endless company of lacqueys in flamboyant liveries. + On the morrow he awoke to the persuasion that at last, of a truth, was his + fortune made, and that hereafter there would be no more pike-trailing for + his war-worn old arms. + </p> + <p> + Conscientiously he set about enrolling the company, for, in his way, this + Ercole Fortemani was a conscientious man—boisterous and unruly if + you will; a rogue, in his way, with scant respect for property; not above + cogging dice or even filching a purse upon occasion when hard driven by + necessity—for all that he was gently born and had held honourable + employment; a drunkard by long habit, and a swaggering brawler upon the + merest provocation. But for all that, riotous and dishonest though he + might be in the general commerce of life, yet to the hand that hired him + he strove—not always successfully, perhaps, but, at least, always + earnestly—to be loyal. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. THE “TRATTA DI CORDE” + </h2> + <p> + Whilst the bustle of preparation went on briskly in Urbino, Gian Maria, on + his side, was rapidly disposing of affairs in Babbiano, that he might + return to the nuptials for which he was impatient. But he had chanced upon + a deeper tangle than he had reckoned with, and more to do than he had + looked for. + </p> + <p> + On the day of his departure from Urbino, he had ridden as far as Cagli, + and halted at the house of the noble Messer Valdicampo. This had been + placed at his disposal, and there he proposed to lie the night. They had + supped—the Duke, de' Alvari, Gismondo Santi, MessĂ©r Valdicampo, his + wife and two daughters, and a couple of friends, potential citizens of + Cagli, whom he had invited, that they might witness the honour that was + being done his house. It waxed late, and the torpor that ensues upon the + generous gratification of appetite was settling upon the company when + Armstadt—Gian Maria's Swiss captain—entered and approached his + master with the air of a man who is the bearer of news. He halted a pace + or two from the Duke's high-backed chair, and stood eyeing Gian Maria in + stupid patience. + </p> + <p> + “Well, fool?” growled the Duke, turning his head. + </p> + <p> + The Swiss approached another step. “They have brought him, Highness,” he + said in a confidential whisper. + </p> + <p> + “Am I a wizard that I must read your thoughts?” hectored Gian Maria. “Who + has brought whom?” + </p> + <p> + Armstadt eyed the company in hesitation. Then, stepping close to the Duke, + he murmured in his ear: + </p> + <p> + “The men I left behind have brought the fool—Ser Peppe.” + </p> + <p> + A sudden brightening of the eye showed that Gian Maria understood. Without + apology to the board, he turned and whispered back to his captain to have + the fellow taken to his chamber, there to await him. “Let a couple of your + knaves be in attendance, and do you come too, Martino.” + </p> + <p> + Martin bowed, and withdrew, whereupon Gian Maria found grace to crave his + host's pardon, with the explanation that the man had brought him news he + had been expecting. Valdicampo, who for the honour of having a Duke sleep + beneath his roof would have stomached improprieties far more flagrant, + belittled the matter and dismissed it. And presently Gian Maria rose with + the announcement that he had far to journey on the morrow, and so, with + his host's good leave, would be abed. + </p> + <p> + Valdicampo, himself, then played the part of chamberlain, and taking up + one of the large candle branches, he lighted the Duke to his apartments. + He would have carried his good offices, and his candles, as far as Gian + Maria's very bed-chamber, but that in the ante-room his Highness, as + politely as might be, bade him set down the lights and leave him. + </p> + <p> + The Duke remained standing for a moment, deliberating whether to afford + knowledge to Alvari and Santi—who had followed him and stood + awaiting his commands—of what he was about to do. In the end he + decided that he would act alone and upon his sole discretion. So he + dismissed them. + </p> + <p> + When they had gone and he was quite alone, he clapped his hands together, + and in answer to that summons the door of his bedroom opened, revealing + Martin Armstadt on the threshold. + </p> + <p> + “He is there?” inquired the Duke. + </p> + <p> + “Awaiting your Highness,” answered the Swiss, and he held the door for + Gian Maria to enter. + </p> + <p> + The bedchamber apportioned the Duke in the Palazzo Valdicampo was a noble + and lofty room, in the midst of which loomed the great carved bed of + honour, with its upright pillars and funereal canopy. + </p> + <p> + On the overmantel stood two five-armed sconces with lighted tapers. Yet + Gian Maria did not seem to deem that there was light enough for such + purpose as he entertained, for he bade Martin fetch him the candelabra + that had been left behind. Then he turned his attention to the group + standing by the window, where the light from the overmantel fell full upon + it. + </p> + <p> + This consisted of three men, two being mercenaries of Armstadt's guard, in + corselet and morion, and the third, who stood captive between, the + unfortunate Ser Peppe. The fool's face was paler than its wont, whilst the + usual roguery had passed from his eyes and his mouth, fear having taken + possession of its room. He met the Duke's cruel glance with one of alarm + and piteous entreaty. + </p> + <p> + Having assured himself that Peppe had no weapons, and that his arms were + pinioned behind him, Gian Maria bade the two guards withdraw, but hold + themselves in readiness in the ante-chamber with Armstadt. Then he turned + to Peppe with a scowl on his low brow. + </p> + <p> + “You are not so merry as you were this morning, fool,” he scoffed. + </p> + <p> + Peppino squirmed a little, but his nature, schooled by the long habit of + jest, prompted a bold whimsicality in his reply. + </p> + <p> + “The circumstances are scarcely as propitious—to me. Your Highness, + though, seems in excellent goodÂhumour.” + </p> + <p> + Gian Maria looked at him angrily a moment. He was a slow-witted man, and + he could devise no ready answer, no such cutting gibe as it would have + pleasured him to administer. He walked leisurely to the fire-place, and + leant his elbow on the overmantel. + </p> + <p> + “Your humour led you into saying some things for which I should be + merciful if I had you whipped.” + </p> + <p> + “And, by the same reasoning, charitable if you had me hanged,” returned + the fool dryly, a pale smile on his lips. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! You acknowledge it?” cried Gian Maria, never seeing the irony + intended. “But I am a very clement prince, fool.” + </p> + <p> + “Proverbially clement,” the jester protested, but he did not succeed this + time in excluding the sarcasm from his voice. + </p> + <p> + Gian Maria shot him a furious glance. + </p> + <p> + “Are you mocking me, animal? Keep your venomous tongue in bounds, or I'll + have you deprived of it.” + </p> + <p> + Peppe's face turned grey at the threat, as well it might—for what + should such a one as he do in the world without a tongue? + </p> + <p> + Seeing him dumb and stricken, the Duke continued: + </p> + <p> + “Now, for all that you deserve a hanging for your insolence, I am willing + that you should come by no hurt so that you answer truthfully such + questions as I have for you.” + </p> + <p> + Peppino's grotesque figure was doubled in a bow. + </p> + <p> + “I await your questions, glorious lord,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “You spoke——” the Duke hesitated a moment, writhing inwardly + at the memory of the exact words in which the fool had spoken. “You spoke + this morning of one whom the Lady Valentina had met.” + </p> + <p> + The fear seemed to increase on the jester's face. “Yes,” he answered, in a + choking voice. + </p> + <p> + “Where did she meet this knight you spoke of, and in such wondrous words + of praise described to me?” + </p> + <p> + “In the woods at Acquasparta, where the river Metauro is no better than a + brook. Some two leagues this side of Sant' Angelo.” + </p> + <p> + “Sant' Angelo!” echoed Gian Maria, starting at the very mention of the + place where the late conspiracy against him had been hatched. “And when + was this?” + </p> + <p> + “On the Wednesday before Easter, as Monna Valentina was journeying from + Santa Sofia to Urbino.” + </p> + <p> + No word spake the Duke in answer. He stood still, his head bowed, and his + thoughts running again on that conspiracy. The mountain fight in which + Masuccio had been killed had taken place on the Tuesday night, and the + conviction—scant though the evidence might be—grew upon him + that this man was one of the conspirators who had escaped. + </p> + <p> + “How came your lady to speak with this man—was he known to her?” he + inquired at last. + </p> + <p> + “No, Highness; but he was wounded, and so aroused her compassion. She + sought to minister to his hurt.” + </p> + <p> + “Wounded?” cried Gian Maria, in a shout. “Now, by God, it is as I + suspected. I'll swear he got that wound the night before at Sant' Angelo. + What was his name, fool? Tell me that, and you shall go free.” + </p> + <p> + For just a second the hunchback seemed to hesitate. He stood in awesome + fear of Gian Maria, of whose cruelties some ghastly tales were told. But + in greater fear he stood of the eternal damnation he might earn did he + break the oath he had plighted not to divulge that knight's identity. + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” he sighed, “I would it might be mine to earn my freedom at so + light a price; yet it is one that ignorance will not let me pay. I do not + know his name.” + </p> + <p> + The Duke looked at him searchingly and suspiciously. + </p> + <p> + Dull though he was by nature, eagerness seemed now to have set a cunning + edge upon his wits, and suspicion had led him to observe the fool's + momentary hesitation. + </p> + <p> + “Of what appearance was he? Describe him to me. How was he dressed? What + was the manner of his face?” + </p> + <p> + “Again, Lord Duke, I cannot answer you. I had but the most fleeting + glimpse of him.” + </p> + <p> + The Duke's sallow countenance grew very evil-looking, and an ugly smile + twisted his lip and laid bare his strong white teeth. + </p> + <p> + “So fleeting that no memory of him is left you?” quoth he. + </p> + <p> + “Precisely, Highness.” + </p> + <p> + “You lie, you filth,” Gian Maria thundered in a towering rage. “It was but + this morning that you said his height was splendid, his countenance noble, + his manner princely, his speech courtly, and—I know not what + besides. Yet now you tell me—you tell me—that your glimpse of + him was so fleeting that you cannot describe him. You know his name, + rogue, and I will have it from you, or else——” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, indeed, most noble lord, be not incensed——” the fool + began, in fearful protestation. But the Duke interrupted him. + </p> + <p> + “Incensed?” he echoed, his eyes dilating in a sort of horror at the + notion. “Do you dare impute to me the mortal sin of choler? I am not + incensed; there is no anger in me.” He crossed himself, as if to exorcise + the evil mood if it indeed existed, and devotedly bowing his head and + folding his hands—“Libera me a malo, Domine!” he murmured audibly. + Then, with a greater fierceness than before—“Now,” he demanded, + “will you tell me his name?” + </p> + <p> + “I would I could,” the terrified hunchback began. But at that the Duke + turned from him with a shrug of angry impatience, and clapping his hands + together: + </p> + <p> + “Olá! Martino!” he called. Instantly the door opened, and the Swiss + appeared. “Bring in your men and your rope.” + </p> + <p> + The captain turned on his heel, and simultaneously the fool cast himself + at Gian Maria's feet. + </p> + <p> + “Mercy, your Highness!” he wailed. “Do not have me hanged. I am——” + </p> + <p> + “We are not going to hang you,” the Duke broke in coldly. “Dead you would + indeed be dumb, and avail us nothing. We want you alive, Messer Peppino—alive + and talkative; we find you very reserved for a fool. But we hope to make + you speak.” + </p> + <p> + On his knees, Peppe raised his wild eyes to Heaven. + </p> + <p> + “Mother of the Afflicted,” he prayed, at which the Duke broke into a + contemptuous laugh. + </p> + <p> + “What has the Heavenly Mother to do with such filth as you? Make your + appeals to me. I am the more immediate arbiter of your fate. Tell me the + name of that man you met in the woods, and all may yet be well with you.” + </p> + <p> + Peppino knelt in silence, a cold sweat gathering on his pale brow, and a + horrid fear tightening at his heart and throat. + </p> + <p> + And yet greater than this horror they were preparing for him was the + horror of losing his immortal soul by a breach of the solemn oath he had + sworn. Gian Maria turned from him, at last, to his bravi, who now entered + silently and with the air of men who knew the work expected of them. + Martino mounted the bed, and swung for an instant from the framework of + the canopy. + </p> + <p> + “It will hold, Highness,” he announced. + </p> + <p> + Gian Maria bade him, since that was so, remove the velvet hangings, whilst + he despatched one of the men to see that the ante-chamber door was closed, + so that no cry should penetrate to the apartments of the Valdicampo + household. + </p> + <p> + In a few seconds all was ready, and Peppino was rudely lifted from his + knees and from the prayers he had been pattering to the Virgin to lend him + strength in this hour of need. + </p> + <p> + “For the last time, sir fool,” quoth the Duke, “will you tell us his + name?” + </p> + <p> + “Highness, I cannot,” answered Peppe, for all that terror was freezing his + very blood. + </p> + <p> + A light of satisfaction gleamed now in Gian Maria's eyes. + </p> + <p> + “So you know it!” he exclaimed. “You no longer protest your ignorance, but + only that you cannot tell me. Up with him, Martino.” + </p> + <p> + In a last pitiable struggle against the inevitable, the fool broke from + his guards, and flung himself towards the door. One of the burly Swiss + caught him by the neck in a grip that made him cry out with pain. Gian + Maria eyed him with a sinister smile, and Martin proceeded to fasten one + end of the rope to his pinioned wrists. Then they led him, shivering to + the great bed. The other end of the cord was passed over one of the bared + arms of the canopy-frame. This end was grasped by the two men-at-arms. + Martin stood beside the prisoner. The Duke flung himself into a great + carved chair, an air of relish now investing his round, pale face. + </p> + <p> + “You know what is about to befall you,” he said, in tones of chilling + indifference. “Will you speak before we begin?” + </p> + <p> + “My lord,” said the fool, in a voice that terror was throttling, “you are + a good Christian, a loyal son of Mother Church, and a believer in the + eternal fires of hell?” + </p> + <p> + A frown settled on Gian Maria's brow. Was the fool about to intimidate him + with talk of supernatural vengeance? + </p> + <p> + “Thus,” Peppe continued, “you will perhaps be merciful when I confess my + position. I made most solemn oath to the man I met at Acquasparta on that + luckless day, that I would never reveal his identity. What am I to do? If + I keep my oath, you will torture me to death perhaps. If I break it, I + shall be damned eternally. Have mercy, noble lord, since now you know how + I am placed.” + </p> + <p> + The smile broadened on Gian Maria's face, and the cruelty of his mouth and + eyes seemed intensified by it. The fool had told him that which he would + have given much to learn. He had told him that this man whose name he + sought, had so feared that his presence that day at Acquasparta should + become known, that he had bound the fool by oath not to divulge the secret + of it. Of what he had before suspected he was now assured. The man in + question was one of the conspirators; probably the very chief of them. + Nothing short of the fool's death under torture would now restrain him + from learning the name of that unknown who had done him the double injury + of conspiring against him, and—if the fool were to be believed—of + capturing the heart of Valentina. + </p> + <p> + “For the damnation of your soul I shall not be called to answer,” he said + at last. “Care enough have I to save my own—for temptations are many + and this poor flesh is weak. But it is this man's name I need, and—by + the five wounds of Lucia of Viterbo!—I will have it. Will you + speak?” + </p> + <p> + Something like a sob shook the poor fool's deformed frame. But that was + all. With bowed head he preserved a stubborn silence. The Duke made a sign + to the men, and instantly the two of them threw their weight upon the + rope, hoisting Peppe by his wrists until he was at the height of the + canopy itself. That done, they paused, and turned their eyes upon the Duke + for further orders. Again Gian Maria called upon the fool to answer his + questions; but Peppe, a writhing, misshapen mass from which two wriggling + legs depended, maintained a stubborn silence. + </p> + <p> + “Let him go,” snarled Gian Maria, out of patience. The men released the + rope, and allowed some three feet of it to run through their hands. Then + they grasped it again, so that Peppe's sudden fall was as suddenly + arrested by a jerk that almost wrenched his arms from their sockets. A + shriek broke from him at that exquisite torture, and he was dragged once + more to the full height of the canopy. + </p> + <p> + “Will you speak now?” asked Gian Maria coldly, amusedly almost. But still + the fool was silent, his nether lip caught so tightly in his teeth that + the blood trickled from it adown his chin. Again the Duke gave the signal, + and again they let him go. This time they allowed him a longer drop, so + that the wrench with which they arrested it was more severe than had been + the first. + </p> + <p> + Peppe felt his bones starting from their joints, and it was as if a + burning iron were searing him at shoulder, elbow and wrist. + </p> + <p> + “Merciful God!” he screamed. “Oh, have pity, noble lord.” + </p> + <p> + But the noble lord had him hoisted anew to the canopy. Writhing there in + the extremity of his anguish, the poor hunchback poured forth from + frothing lips a stream of curses and imprecations, invoking Heaven and + hell to strike his tormentors dead. + </p> + <p> + But the Duke, from whose demeanour it might be inferred that he was inured + to the effect produced by this form of torture, looked on with a cruel + smile, as of one who watches the progress of events towards the end that + he desires and has planned. He was less patient, and his signal came more + quickly now. For a third time the fool was dropped, and drawn up, now, a + short three feet from the ground. + </p> + <p> + This time he did not so much as scream. He hung there, dangling at the + rope's end, his mouth all bloody, his face ghastly in its glistening + pallor, and of his eyes naught showing save the whites. He hung there, and + moaned piteously and incessantly. Martin glanced questioningly at Gian + Maria, and his eyes very plainly inquired whether they had not better + cease. But Gian Maria paid no heed to him. + </p> + <p> + “Will that suffice you?” he asked the fool. “Will you speak now?” + </p> + <p> + But the fool's only answer was a moan, whereupon again, at the Duke's + relentless signal, he was swung aloft. But at the terror of a fourth drop, + more fearful than any of its three predecessors, he awoke very suddenly to + the impossible horror of his position. That this agony would endure until + he died or fainted, he was assured. And since he seemed incapable of + either fainting or dying, suffer more he could not. What was heaven or + hell to him then that the thought of either could efface the horror of + this torture and strengthen him to continue to endure the agony of it? He + could endure no more—no, not to save a dozen souls if he had had + them: + </p> + <p> + “I'll speak,” he screamed. “Let me down, and you shall have his name, Lord + Duke.” + </p> + <p> + “Pronounce it first, or the manner of your descent shall be as the + others.” + </p> + <p> + Peppe passed his tongue over his bleeding lips, hung still and spoke. + </p> + <p> + “It was your cousin,” he panted, “Francesco del Falco, Count of Aquila.” + </p> + <p> + The Duke stared at him a moment, with startled countenance and mouth + agape. + </p> + <p> + “You are telling me the truth, animal?” he demanded, in a quivering voice. + “It was the Count of Aquila who was wounded and whom Monna Valentina + tended?” + </p> + <p> + “I swear it,” answered the fool. “Now, in the name of God and His blessed + saints, let me down.” + </p> + <p> + For a moment yet he was held there, awaiting Gian Maria's signal. The Duke + continued to eye him with that same astonished look, what time he turned + over in his mind the news he had gathered. Then conviction of the truth + sank into his mind. It was the Lord of Aquila who was the idol of the + Babbianians. What, then, more natural than that the conspirators should + have sought to place him on the throne they proposed to wrest from Gian + Maria? He dubbed himself a fool that he had not guessed so much before. + </p> + <p> + “Let him down,” he curtly bade his men. “Then take him hence, and let him + go with God. He has served his purpose.” + </p> + <p> + Gently they lowered him, but when his feet touched the ground he was + unable to stand. His legs doubled under him, and he lay—a little + crook-backed heap—upon the rushes of the floor. His senses had + deserted him. + </p> + <p> + At a sign from Armstadt the two men picked him up and carried him out + between them. + </p> + <p> + Gian Maria moved across the room to a tapestried prieÂdieu, and knelt down + before an ivory crucifix to render thanks to God for the signal light of + grace, by which He had vouchsafed to show the Duke his enemy. + </p> + <p> + Thereafter, drawing from the breast of his doublet a chaplet of gold and + amber beads, he piously discharged his nightly devotions. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. THE BRAYING OF AN ASS + </h2> + <p> + When on the morrow, towards the twenty-second hour, the High and Mighty + Gian Maria Sforza rode into his capital at Babbiano, he found the city in + violent turmoil, occasioned, as he rightly guessed, by the ominous + presence of Caesar Borgia's envoy. + </p> + <p> + A dense and sullen crowd met him at the Porta Romana, and preserved a + profound silence as he rode into the city, accompanied by Alvari and + Santi, and surrounded by his escort of twenty spears in full armour. There + was a threat in that silence more ominous than any vociferations, and very + white was the Duke's face as he darted scowls of impotent anger this way + and that. But there was worse to come. As they rode up the Borgo dell' + Annunziata the crowd thickened, and the silence was now replaced by a + storm of hooting and angry cries. The people became menacing, and by + Armstadt's orders—the Duke was by now too paralysed with fear to + issue any—the men-at-arms lowered their pikes in order to open a + way, whilst one or two of the populace, who were thrust too near the + cavalcade by the surging human tide, went down and were trampled under + foot. + </p> + <p> + Satirical voices asked the Duke derisively was he wed, and where might be + his uncle-in-law's spears that were to protect them against the Borgia. + Some demanded to know whither the last outrageous levy of taxes was gone, + and where was the army it should have served to raise. To this, others + replied for the Duke, suggesting a score of vile uses to which the money + had been put. + </p> + <p> + Then, of a sudden, a cry of “Murderer!” arose, followed by angry demands + that he should restore life to the valiant Ferrabraccio, to Amerini, the + people's friend, and to those others whom he had lately butchered, or else + follow them in death. Lastly the name of the Count of Aquila rang wildly + in his ears, provoking a storm of “Evviva! Live Francesco del Falco!” and + one persistent voice, sounding loudly above the others, styled him already + “il Duca Francesco.” At that the blood mounted to Gian Maria's brain, and + a wave of anger beat back the fear from his heart. He rose in his + stirrups, his eyes ablaze with the jealous wrath that possessed him. + </p> + <p> + “Ser Martino!” he roared hoarsely to his captain. “Couch lances and go + through them at the gallop!” + </p> + <p> + The burly Swiss hesitated, brave man though he was. Alvaro de' Alvari and + Gismondo Santi looked at each other in alarm, and the intrepid old + statesman, in whose heart no pang of fear had been awakened by the + rabble's threatening bay, changed colour as he heard that order given. + </p> + <p> + “Highness,” he implored the Duke, “You cannot mean this.” + </p> + <p> + “Not mean it?” flashed back Gian Maria, his eye travelling from Santi to + the hesitating captain. “Fool!” he blazed at the latter. “Brute beast, for + what do you wait? Did you not hear me?” + </p> + <p> + Without a second's delay the captain now raised his sword, and his deep, + guttural voice barked an order to his men which brought their lances below + the horizontal. The mob, too, had heard that fierce command, and awakening + to their peril, those nearest the cavalcade would have fallen back but + that the others, pressing tightly from behind, held them in the death-tide + that now swept by with clattering arms and hoarse cries. + </p> + <p> + Shrieks filled the air where lately threats had been loudly tossed. But + some there were in that crowd that would be no passive witnesses of this + butchery. Half the stones of the borgo went after that cavalcade, and fell + in a persistent shower upon them, rattling like giant hail upon their + armour, dinting many a steel-cap to its wearer's sore discomfort. The Duke + himself was struck twice, and on Santi's unprotected scalp an ugly wound + was opened from which the blood flowed in profusion to dye his snowy + locks. + </p> + <p> + In this undignified manner they reached, at last, the Palazzo Ducale, + leaving a trail of dead and maimed to mark the way by which they had come. + </p> + <p> + In a white heat of passion Gian Maria sought his apartments, and came not + forth again until, some two hours later, the presence was announced him of + the emissary from Caesar Borgia, Duke of Valentinois, who sought an + audience. + </p> + <p> + Still beside himself, and boiling with wrath at the indignities he had + received, Gian Maria—in no mood for an interview that would have + demanded coolness and presence of mind from a keener brain than his—received + the envoy, a gloomy, priestly-faced Spaniard, in the throne-room of the + Palace. The Duke was attended by Alvari, Santi, and Fabrizio da Lodi, + whilst his mother, Caterina Colonna, occupied a chair of crimson velvet on + which the Sforza lion was wrought in gold. + </p> + <p> + The interview was brief, and marked by a rudeness at its close that + contrasted sharply with the ceremoniousness of its inception. It soon + became clear that the ambassador's true mission was to pick a quarrel with + Babbiano on his master's behalf, to the end that the Borgia might be + afforded a sound pretext for invading the Duchy. He demanded, at first + politely and calmly, and later—when denied—with arrogant + insistance, that Gian Maria should provide the Duke of Valentinois with a + hundred lances—equivalent to five hundred men—as some + contribution on his part towards the stand which Caesar Borgia meant to + make against the impending French invasion. + </p> + <p> + Gian Maria never heeded the restraining words which Lodi whispered in his + ear, urging him to temporise, and to put off this messenger until the + alliance with the house of Urbino should be complete and their position + strengthened sufficiently to permit them to brave the anger of Caesar + Borgia. But neither this nor the wrathful, meaning glances which his + cunning mother bent upon him served to curb him. He obeyed only the voice + of his headstrong mood, never dreaming of the consequences with which he + might be visited. + </p> + <p> + “You will bear to the Duca Valentino this message from me,” he said, in + conclusion. “You will tell him that what lances I have in Babbiano I + intend to keep, that with them I may defend my own frontiers against his + briganding advances. Messer da Lodi,” he added, turning to Fabrizio and + without so much as waiting to see if the envoy had anything further to + say, “let this gentleman be reconducted to his quarters, and see that he + has safe conduct hence until he is out of our Duchy.” + </p> + <p> + When the envoy, crimson of face and threatening of eye, had withdrawn + under Lodi's escort, Monna Caterina rose, the very incarnation of outraged + patience, and poured her bitter invective upon her rash son's head. + </p> + <p> + “Fool!” she stormed at him. “There goes your Duchy—in the hollow of + that man's hand.” Then she laughed in bitterness. “After all, in casting + it from you, perhaps you have chosen the wiser course, for, as truly as + there is a God in Heaven, you are utterly unfitted to retain it.” + </p> + <p> + “My lady mother,” he answered her, with such dignity as he could muster + from the wretched heap in which his wits now seemed to lie, “you will be + well advised to devote yourself to your woman's tasks, and not to + interfere in a man's work.” + </p> + <p> + “Man's work!” she sneered. “And you perform it like a petulant boy or a + peevish woman.” + </p> + <p> + “I perform it, Madonna, as best seems to me, for it happens that I am Duke + of Babbiano,” he answered sullenly. “I do not fear any Pope's son that + ever stepped. The alliance with Urbino is all but completed. Let that be + established, and if Valentino shows his teeth—by God we'll show + ours.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, but with this difference, that his are a wolf's teeth, and yours a + lamb's. Besides, this alliance with Urbino is all incomplete as yet. You + had been better advised to have sent away the envoy with some indefinite + promise that would have afforded you respite enough in which to seal + matters with the house of Montefeltro. As it is, your days are numbered. + Upon that message you have sent him Caesar will act at once. For my own + part, I have no mind to fall a prey to the invader, and I shall leave + Babbiano, and seek refuge in Naples. And if a last word of advice I may + offer you, it is that you do the same.” + </p> + <p> + Gian Maria rose and came down from the dais, eyeing her in a sort of dull + amazement. Then he looked, as if for help, to Alvari, to Santi, and lastly + to Lodi, who had returned while Caterina was speaking. But no word said + any of them, and grave were the eyes of all. + </p> + <p> + “Poor-spirited are you all!” he sneered. Then his face grew dark and his + tone concentrated. “Not so am I,” he assured them, “if in the past I may + have seemed it sometimes. I am aroused at length, sirs. I heard a voice in + the streets of Babbiano to-day, and I saw a sight that has put a fire into + my veins. This good-tempered, soft, indulgent Duke you knew is gone. The + lion is awake at last, and you shall see such things as you had not dreamt + of.” + </p> + <p> + They regarded him now with eyes in which the gravity was increased by a + light of fearsome wonder and inquiry. Was his mind giving way under the + prodigious strain that had been set upon it that day? If not madness, what + else did that wild boasting argue? + </p> + <p> + “Are you all dumb?” he asked them, his eyes feverish. “Or do you deem that + I promise more than is mine to fulfil. You shall judge, and soon. + To-morrow, my lady mother, whilst you journey south, as you have told us, + I go north again, back to Urbino. Not a day will I now waste. Within the + week, sirs, by God's grace, I shall be wed. That will give us Urbino for a + buckler, and with Urbino comes Perugia and Camerino. But more than that. + There is a princely dowry comes to us with the Lady Valentina. How think + you will I spend it? To the last florin it shall go to the arming of men. + I will hire me every free condotta in Italy. I will raise me such an army + as has never before been seen at any one time, and with this I shall seek + out the Duca Valentino. I'll not sit here at home awaiting the pleasure of + his coming, but I'll out to meet him, and with that army I shall descend + upon him as a thunderbolt out of Heaven. Aye, my lady mother,” he laughed + in his madness, “the lamb shall hunt the wolf, and rend it so that it + shall never stand again to prey on other lambs. This will I do, my + friends, and there shall be such fighting as has not been seen since the + long-dead days of Castracani.” + </p> + <p> + They stared at him, scarce believing now that he was sane, and marvelling + deeply whence had sprung this sudden martial fervour in one whose nature + was more indolent than active, more timid than warlike. And yet the reason + was not far to seek, had they but cared to follow the line of thought to + which he, himself, had given them the clue when he referred to the voice + he had heard, and the sights he had seen in the streets of Babbiano. The + voice was the voice that had acclaimed his cousin Francesco Duke. That it + was through that a fierce jealousy had fired him. This man had robbed him + at once of the love of his people and of Valentina, and thereby had set in + his heart the burning desire to outdo him and to prove wrong in their + preference both his people and Valentina. He was like a gamer who risks + all on a single throw, and his stake was to be the dowry of his bride, the + game a tilt with the forces of the Borgia. If he won he came out covered + with glory, and not only the saviour of his people and the champion of + their liberty, but a glorious figure that all Italy—or, at least, + that part of it that had known the iron heel of Valentino—should + revere. Thus would he set himself right, and thus crush from their minds + the memory of his rebellious cousin with whom he was about to deal. + </p> + <p> + His mother turned to him now, and her words were words of caution, prayers + that he should adventure on naught so vast and appalling to her woman's + mind, without due thought and argument in council. A servant entered at + that moment, and approached the Duke. + </p> + <p> + “Madonna,” Gian Maria announced, breaking in upon her earnest words, “I am + fully resolved upon my course. If you will but delay a moment and resume + your seat, you shall witness the first scene of this great drama that I am + preparing.” Then turning to the waiting servant: “Your message?” he + demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Armstadt has returned, Highness, and has brought his Excellency.” + </p> + <p> + “Fetch lights and then admit them,” he commanded briefly. “To your places, + sirs, and you, my mother. I am about to sit in judgment.” + </p> + <p> + Amazed and uncomprehending, they obeyed his wild gestures, and resumed + their places by the throne even as he walked back to the dais and sat + himself upon the ducal chair. Servants entered, bearing great candelabra + of beaten gold which they set on table and overmantel. They withdrew, and + when the doors opened again, a clank of mail, reaching them from without, + increased the astonishment of the company. + </p> + <p> + This rose yet higher, and left them cold and speechless, when into the + chamber stepped the Count of Aquila with a man-at-arms on either side of + him, marking him a prisoner. With a swift, comprehensive glance that took + in the entire group about the throne—and without manifesting the + slightest surprise at Lodi's presence—Francesco stood still and + awaited his cousin's words. + </p> + <p> + He was elegantly dressed, but without lavishness, and if he had the air of + a great lord, it was rather derived from the distinction of his face and + carriage. He was without arms, and bareheaded save for the gold coif he + always wore, which seemed to accentuate the lustrous blackness of his + hair. His face was impassive, and the glance as that of a man rather weary + of the entertainment provided him. + </p> + <p> + There was an oppressive silence of some moments, during which his cousin + regarded him with an eye that glittered oddly. At last Gian Maria broke + into speech, his voice shrill with excitement. + </p> + <p> + “Know you of any reason,” he demanded, “why your head should not be + flaunted on a spear among those others on the Gate of San Bacolo?” + </p> + <p> + Francesco's eyebrows shot up in justifiable astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “I know of many,” he answered, with a smile, an answer which by its + simplicity seemed to nonplus the Duke. + </p> + <p> + “Let us hear some of them,” he challenged presently. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, let us hear, rather, some reason why my poor head should be so + harshly dealt with. When a man is rudely taken, as I have been, it is a + custom, which perhaps your Highness will follow, to afford him some reason + for the outrage.” + </p> + <p> + “You smooth-tongued traitor,” quoth the Duke, with infinite malice, made + angrier by his cousin's dignity. “You choicely-spoken villain! You would + learn why you have been taken? Tell me, sir, what did you at Acquasparta + on the morning of the Wednesday before Easter?” + </p> + <p> + The Count's impassive face remained inscrutable, a mask of patient wonder. + By the sudden clenching of his hands alone did he betray how that thrust + had smitten him, and his hands none there remarked. Fabrizio da Lodi, + standing behind the Duke, went pale to the lips. + </p> + <p> + “I do not recall that I did anything there of much account,” he answered. + “I breathed the good spring air in the woods.” + </p> + <p> + “And nothing else?” sneered Gian Maria. + </p> + <p> + “I can bethink me of little else that signifies. I met a lady there with + whom I had some talk, a friar, a fool, a popinjay, and some soldiers. + But,”—he shifted abruptly, his tone growing haughty—“whatever + I did, I did as best seemed to me, and I have yet to learn that the Count + of Aquila must give account of what he does and where he does it. You have + not told me yet, sir, by what right, or fancied right, you hold me + prisoner.” + </p> + <p> + “Have I not, indeed? See you no link between your offence and your + presence near Sant' Angelo on that day?” + </p> + <p> + “If I am to apprehend that you have had me brought here with this + indignity to set me riddles for your amusement, I am enlightened and yet + amazed. I am no court buffoon.” + </p> + <p> + “Words, words,” snapped the Duke. “Do not think to beguile me with them.” + With a short laugh he turned from Francesco to those upon the dais. “You + will be marvelling, sirs, and you, my lady mother, upon what grounds I + have had this traitor seized. You shall learn. On the night of the Tuesday + before Easter seven traitors met at Sant' Angelo to plot my overthrow. Of + those, the heads of four may be seen on the walls of Babbiano now; the + other three made off, but there stands one of them—the one that was + to have occupied this throne after they had unseated me.” + </p> + <p> + The eyes of all were now upon the young Count, whilst his own glance + strayed to the face of Lodi, on which there was written a consternation so + great that it must have betrayed him had the Duke but chanced to look his + way. A pause ensued which none present dared to break. Gian Maria seemed + to await an answer from Francesco; but Francesco stood impassively + regarding him, and made no sign that he would speak. At length, unable + longer to endure the silence: + </p> + <p> + “E dunque?” cried the Duke. “Have you no answer?” + </p> + <p> + “I would submit,” returned Francesco, “that I have heard no question. I + heard a wild statement, extravagant and mad, the accusation of one + demented, a charge of which no proofs can be forthcoming, else I take it + you had not withheld them. I ask you, sirs, and you, Madonna,” he + continued, turning to the others, “has his Highness said anything to which + an answer can by any means be necessary?” + </p> + <p> + “Is it proofs you lack?” cried Gian Maria, but less confidently than + hitherto, and, so, less fiercely. A doubt had arisen in his mind born of + this strange calm on the part of Francesco—a calm that to Gian + Maria's perceptions seemed hardly the garb of guilt, but belonged rather + to one who is assured that no peril threatens him. “Is it proofs you + lack?” quoth the Duke again, and then with the air of a man launching an + unanswerable question: “How came you by the wound you had that day in the + woods?” + </p> + <p> + A smile quivered on Francesco's face, and was gone. + </p> + <p> + “I asked for proofs, not questions,” he protested wearily. “What shall it + prove if I had a hundred wounds?” + </p> + <p> + “Prove?” echoed the Duke, less and less confident of his ground, fearing + already that he had perhaps gone too fast and too far upon the road of his + suspicions. “It proves to me, when coupled with your presence there, that + you were in the fight the night before.” + </p> + <p> + Francesco stirred at that. He sighed and smiled at once. Then assuming a + tone of brisk command: + </p> + <p> + “Bid these men begone,” he said, pointing to his guards. “Then hear me + scatter your foul suspicions as the hurricane scatters the leaves in + autumn.” + </p> + <p> + Gian Maria stared at him in stupefaction. That overwhelming assurance, + that lofty, dignified bearing which made such a noble contrast with his + own coarse hectoring, were gradually undermining more and more his + confidence. With a wave of his hand he motioned the soldiers to withdraw, + obeying almost unconsciously the master-mind of his cousin by which he was + as unconsciously being swayed. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Highness,” said Francesco, as soon as the men were gone, “before I + refute the charge you make, let me clearly understand it. From the + expressions you have used I gather it to be this: A conspiracy was laid a + little time ago at Sant' Angelo which had for object to supplant you on + the throne of Babbiano and set me in your place. You charge me with having + had in that conspiracy a part—the part assigned to me. It is so, is + it not?” + </p> + <p> + Gian Maria nodded. + </p> + <p> + “You have put it very clearly,” he sneered. “If you can make out your + innocence as clearly, I shall be satisfied that I have wronged you.” + </p> + <p> + “That this conspiracy took place we will accept as proven, although to the + people of Babbiano the proof may have seemed scant. A man, since dead, had + told your Highness that such a plot was being hatched. Hardly, perhaps, in + itself, evidence enough to warrant setting the heads of four very valiant + gentlemen on spears, but no doubt your Highness had other proofs to which + the rest of us had no access.” + </p> + <p> + Gian Maria shivered at the words. He recalled what Francesco had said on + the occasion of their last talk upon this very subject; he remembered the + manner of his own reception that day in Babbiano. + </p> + <p> + “We must be content that it is so,” calmly pursued Francesco. “Indeed, + your Highness's action in the matter leaves no doubt. We will accept, + then, that such a plot was laid, but that I had a part in it, that I was + the man chosen to take your place—need I prove the idleness of such + a charge?” + </p> + <p> + “You need, in truth. By God! you need, if you would save your head.” + </p> + <p> + The Count stood in an easy posture, his hands clasped behind his back, and + smiled up at his cousin's pale face and scowling brow. + </p> + <p> + “How mysterious are the ways of your justice, Cousin,” he murmured, with + infinite relish; “what a wondrous equity invests your methods! You have me + dragged here by force, and sitting there, you say to me: 'Prove that you + have not conspired against me, or the headsman shall have you!' By my + faith! Soloman was a foolish prattler when compared with you.” + </p> + <p> + Gian Maria smote the gilded arm of his chair a blow for which he was to + find his hand blackened on the morrow. + </p> + <p> + “Prove it!” he screamed, like a child in a pet. “Prove it, prove it, prove + it!” + </p> + <p> + “And have my words not already proven it?” quoth the Count, in a voice of + such mild wonder and gentle protest that it left Gian Maria gasping. + </p> + <p> + Then the Duke made a hasty gesture of impatience. + </p> + <p> + “Messer Alvari,” he said, in a voice of concentrated rage, “I think you + had best recall the guard.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait!” the Count compelled him, raising his hand. And now it was seen + that the easy insouciance was gone from his face: the smile had vanished, + and in its place there was a look of lofty and contemptuous wrath. “I will + repeat my words. You have dragged me here before you by force, and, + sitting there on the throne of Babbiano, you say: 'Prove that you have not + conspired against me if you would save your head.'” A second he paused, + and noted the puzzled look with which all regarded him. + </p> + <p> + “Is this a parable?” sneered the uncomprehending Duke. + </p> + <p> + “You have said it,” flashed back Francesco. “A parable it is. And if you + consider it, does it not afford you proof enough?” he asked, a note of + triumph in his voice. “Do not our relative positions irrefutably show the + baselessness of this your charge? Should I stand here and you sit there if + what you allege against me were true?” He laughed almost savagely, and his + eyes flashed scornfully upon the Duke. “If more plainly still you need it, + Gian Maria, I tell you that had I plotted to occupy your tottering throne, + I should be on it now, not standing here defending myself against a + foolish charge. But can you doubt it? Did you learn no lesson as you rode + into Babbiano to-day? Did you not hear them acclaim me and groan at you. + And yet,” he ended, with a lofty pity, “you tell me that I plotted. Why, + if I desired your throne, my only need would be to unfurl my banner in the + streets of your capital, and within the hour Gian Maria would be Duke no + more. Have I proved my innocence, Highness?” he ended quietly, sadly + almost. “Are you convinced how little is my need for plots?” + </p> + <p> + But the Duke had no answer for him. Speechless, and in a sort of dazed + horror, he sat and scowled before him at his cousin's handsome face, what + time the others watched him furtively, in silence, trembling for the young + man who, here, in his grasp, had dared say such things to him. Presently + he covered his face with his hands, and sat so, as one deeply in thought, + a little while. At last he withdrew them slowly and presented a + countenance that passion and chagrin had strangely ravaged in so little + time. He turned to Santi, who stood nearest. + </p> + <p> + “The guard,” he said hoarsely, with a wave of the hand, and Santi went, + none daring to utter a word. They waited thus an odd group, all very grave + save one, and he the one that had most cause for gravity. Then the captain + re-entered, followed by his two men, and Gian Maria waved a hand towards + the prisoner. + </p> + <p> + “Take him away,” he muttered harshly, his face ghastly, and passion + shaking him like an aspen. “Take him away, and await my orders in the + ante-chamber.” + </p> + <p> + “If it is farewell, Cousin,” said Francesco, “may I hope that you will + send a priest to me? I have lived a faithful Christian.” + </p> + <p> + Gian Maria returned him no answer, but his baleful eye was upon Martino. + Reading the significance of that glance, the captain touched Francesco + lightly on the arm. A moment the Count stood, looking from the Duke to the + soldiers; a second his glance rested on those assembled there; then, with + a light raising of his shoulders, he turned on his heel, and with his head + high passed out of the ducal chamber. + </p> + <p> + And silence continued after he was gone until Caterina Colonna broke it + with a laugh that grated on Gian Maria's now very tender nerves. + </p> + <p> + “You promised bravely,” she mocked him, “to play the lion. But so far, we + have only heard the braying of an ass.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. WANDERING KNIGHTS + </h2> + <p> + That taunt of his mother's stirred Gian Maria. He rose from his ducal + chair and descended from the dais on which it stood, possessed by a + tempestuous mood that would not brook him to sit still. + </p> + <p> + “The braying of an ass?” he muttered, facing Caterina. Then he laughed + unpleasantly. “The jaw-bone of an ass did sore execution on one occasion, + Madonna, and it may again. A little patience, and you shall see.” Next, + and with a brisker air, he addressed the four silent courtiers, “You heard + him, sirs,” he exclaimed, “How do you say that I shall deal with such a + traitor?” He waited some seconds for an answer, and it seemed to anger him + that none came. “Have you, then, no counsel for me?” he demanded harshly. + </p> + <p> + “I had not thought,” said Lodi hardily, “that this was a case in which + your Highness needed counsel. You were drawn to conclude that the Lord of + Aquila was a traitor, but from what we have all heard, your Highness + should now see that he is not.” + </p> + <p> + “Should I so?” the Duke returned, standing still and fixing upon Fabrizio + an eye that was dull as a snake's. “Messer da Lodi, your loyalty is a + thing that has given signs of wavering of late. Now, if by the grace of + God and His blessed saints I have ruled as a merciful prince who errs too + much upon the side of clemency, I would enjoin you not to try that + clemency too far. I am but a man, after all.” + </p> + <p> + He turned from the fearless front presented by the old statesman, to face + the troubled glances of the others. + </p> + <p> + “Your silence, sirs, tells me that in this matter your judgement runs + parallel with mine. And you are wise, for in such a case there can be but + one course. My cousin has uttered words to-day which no man has ever said + to a prince and lived. Nor shall we make exception to that rule. My Lord + of Aquila's head must pay the price of his temerity.” + </p> + <p> + “My son,” cried Caterina, in a voice of horror. Gian Maria faced her in a + passion, his countenance grown mottled. + </p> + <p> + “I have said it,” he growled. “I will not sleep until he dies.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet never may you wake again,” she answered. And with that preamble she + launched upon his head the bitterest criticism he had ever heard. By + stinging epithets and contemptuous words, she sought to make him see the + folly of what he meditated. Was he indeed tired of ruling Babbiano? If + that were so, she told him, he had but to wait for Caesar Borgia's coming. + He need not precipitate matters by a deed that must lead to a revolt, a + rising of the people to avenge their idol. + </p> + <p> + “You have given me but added reasons,” he answered her stoutly. “There is + no room in my Duchy for a man whose death, if it pleased me to encompass + it, would be avenged upon me by my own people.” + </p> + <p> + “Then send him from your dominions,” she urged. “Banish him, and all may + be well. But if you slay him, I should not count your life worth a day's + purchase.” + </p> + <p> + This advice was sound, and in the end they prevailed upon him to adopt it. + But it was not done save at the cost of endless prayers on the part of + those courtiers, and the persuasions of Caterina's biting scorn and + prophecies of the fate that surely awaited him did he touch the life of + one so wellÂbeloved. At last, against his will, he sullenly consented that + the banishment of his cousin should content him. But it was with infinite + bitterness and regret that he passed his word, for his jealousy was of a + quality that nothing short of Francesco's death could have appeased. + Certain it is that nothing but the fear of the consequences, which his + mother had instilled into his heart, could have swayed him to be satisfied + that the Count of Aquila should be banished. + </p> + <p> + He sent for Martino and bade him return the Count his sword, and he + entrusted the message of exile to Fabrizio da Lodi, charging him to + apprise Francesco that he was allowed twenty-four hours' grace in which to + take himself beyond the dominions of Gian Maria Sforza. + </p> + <p> + That done—and with an exceedingly ill grace—the Duke turned on + his heel, and with a sullen brow he left the ducal chamber, and passed, + unattended, to his own apartments. + </p> + <p> + Rejoicing, Fabrizio da Lodi went his errand, which he discharged with + certain additions that might have cost him his head had knowledge of them + come to Gian Maria. In fact, he seized the opportunity to again press upon + Francesco the throne of Babbiano. + </p> + <p> + “The hour is very ripe,” he urged the Count, “and the people love you as + surely prince was never loved. It is in their interests that I plead. You + are their only hope. Will you not come to them?” + </p> + <p> + If for a moment Francesco hesitated, it was rather in consideration of the + manner in which the crown was offered than in consequence of any + allurement that the offer may have had for him. Once—that night at + Sant' Angelo—he had known temptation, and for a moment had listened + to the seductions in the voice that invited him to power. But not so now. + A thought he gave to the people who had such faith in him, and showered + upon him such admiring love, and whom, as a matter of reciprocity, he + wished well, and would have served in any capacity but this. He shook his + head, and with a smile of regret declined the offer. + </p> + <p> + “Have patience, old friend,” he added. “I am not of the stuff that goes to + make good princes, although you think it. It is a bondage into which I + would not sell myself. A man's life for me, Fabrizio—a free life + that is not directed by councillors and at the mercy of the rabble.” + </p> + <p> + Fabrizio's face grew sad. He sighed profoundly, yet since it might not be + well for him that he should remain over-long in talk with one who, in the + Duke's eyes, was attainted with treason, he had not leisure to insist with + persuasions, which, after all, he clearly saw must in the end prove + barren. + </p> + <p> + “What was the salvation of the people of Babbiano,” he murmured, “was also + your Excellency's, since did you adopt the course I urge there would be no + need to go in banishment.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, this exile suits me excellently well,” returned Francesco. “Idle + have I been over-long, and the wish to roam is in my veins again. I'll see + the world once more, and when I weary of my vagrancy I can withdraw to my + lands of Aquila, and in that corner of Tuscany, too mean to draw a + conqueror's eye, none will molest me, and I shall rest. Babbiano, my + friend, shall know me no more after to-night. When I am gone, and the + people realise that they may not have what they would, they may rest + content perhaps with what they may.” And he waved a hand in the direction + of the doors leading to the ducal chamber. With that he took his leave of + his old friend, and, carrying in his hand the sword and dagger which + Captain Armstadt had returned to him, he repaired briskly to the northern + wing of the Palace, in which he had his lodging. + </p> + <p> + In the ante-room he dismissed those of his servants who had been taken + from the ranks of the Duke's people, and bade his own Tuscan followers, + Zaccaria and Lanciotto, see to the packing of his effects, and make all + ready to set out within the hour. + </p> + <p> + He was no coward, but he had no wish to die just yet if it might be + honourably avoided. Life had some sweets to offer Francesco del Falco, and + this spurred him to hasten, for he well knew his cousin's unscrupulous + ways. He was aware that Gian Maria had been forced by weight of argument + to let him go, and he shrewdly feared that did he linger, his cousin might + veer round again, and without pausing to seek advice a second time, have + him disposed of out of hand and reckless of consequences. + </p> + <p> + Whilst Lanciotto was left busy in the ante-room the Count passed into his + bedchamber attended by Zaccaria, to make in his raiment such changes as + were expedient. But scarce had he begun when he was interrupted by the + arrival of Fanfulla degli Arcipreti, whom Lanciotto ushered in. + Francesco's face lighted at sight of his friend, and he held out his hand. + </p> + <p> + “What is it that has happened?” cried the young gallant, adding that which + showed his question to be unnecessary, for from Fabrizio da Lodi he had + had the whole story of what was befallen. He sat himself upon the bed, and + utterly disregarding the presence of Zaccaria—whom he knew to be + faithful—he attempted to persuade the Count where Fabrizio had + failed. But Paolo cut him short ere he had gone very far. + </p> + <p> + “Have done with that,” he said, and for all that he said it with a laugh, + determination sounded sturdy in his accents. “I am a knight-errant, not a + prince, and I'll not be converted from one to the other. It were making a + helot of a free man, and you do not love me, Fanfulla, if you drive this + argument further. Do you think me sad, cast down, at the prospect of this + banishment? Why, boy, the blood runs swifter through my veins since I + heard the sentence. It frees me from Babbiano in an hour when perhaps my + duty—the reciprocation of the people's love—might otherwise + have held me here, and it gives me liberty to go forth, my good Fanfulla, + in quest of such adventure as I choose to follow.” He threw out his arms, + and displayed his splendid teeth in a hearty laugh. + </p> + <p> + Fanfulla eyed him, infected by the boisterous gladness of his mood. + </p> + <p> + “Why, true indeed, my lord,” he acknowledged, “you are too fine a bird to + sing in a cage. But to go knight-erranting——” He paused, and + spread his hands in protest. “There are no longer dragons holding + princesses captive.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas no. But the Venetians are on the eve of war, and they will find work + for these hands of mine. I want not for friends among them.” + </p> + <p> + Fanfulla sighed. + </p> + <p> + “And so we lose you. The stoutest arm in Babbiano leaves us in the hour of + need, driven out by that loutish Duke. By my soul, Ser Francesco, I would + I might go with you. Here is nothing to be done.” + </p> + <p> + Francesco paused in the act of drawing on a boot, and raised his eyes to + stare a moment at his friend. + </p> + <p> + “But if you wish it, Fanfulla, I shall rejoice to have your company.” + </p> + <p> + And now the idea of it entered Fanfulla's mind in earnest, for his + expression had been more or less an idle one. But since Francesco invited + him, why not indeed? + </p> + <p> + And thus it came to pass that at the third hour of that warm May night a + party of four men on horseback and two sumpter mules passed out of + Babbiano and took the road that leads to Vinamare, and thence into the + territory of Urbino. These riders were the Count of Aquila and Fanfulla + degli Arcipreti, followed by Lanciotto leading a mule that bore the arms + of those knights-errant, and Zaccaria leading another with their general + baggage. + </p> + <p> + All night they rode beneath the stars, and on until some three hours after + sunrise, when they made halt in a hollow of the hills not far from + Fabriano. They tethered their horses in a grove of peaceful laurel and + sheltering mulberry, at the foot of a slope that was set with olive trees, + grey, gnarled and bent as aged cripples, and beside the river Esino at a + spot where it was so narrow that an agile man might leap its width. Here, + then, they spread their cloaks, and Zaccaria unpacked his victuals, and + set before them a simple meal of bread and wine and roasted fowl, which to + their hunger made more appeal than a banquet at another season. And when + they had eaten they laid them down beside the stream, and there beguiled + in pleasant talk the time until they fell asleep. They rested them through + the heat of the day, and waking some three hours after noon, the Count + rose up and went some dozen paces down the stream to a spot where it fell + into a tiny lake—a pool deep and blue as the cloudless heavens which + it mirrored. Here he stripped off his garments and plunged headlong in, to + emerge again, some moments later, refreshed and reinvigorated in body and + in soul. + </p> + <p> + As Fanfulla awoke he beheld an apparition coming towards him, a figure + lithe and stalwart as a sylvian god, the water shining on the ivory + whiteness of his skin and glistening in his sable hair as the sunlight + caught it. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me now, Fanfulla, lives there a man of so depraved a mind that he + would prefer a ducal crown to this?” + </p> + <p> + And the courtier, seeing Francesco's radiant mien, understood perhaps, at + last, how sordid was the ambition that could lure a man from such a + god-like freedom, and from the holy all-consuming joys it brought him. His + thoughts being started upon that course, it was of this they talked what + time the Count resumed his garments—his hose of red, his knee-high + boots of untanned leather, and his quilted brigandine of plain brown + cloth, reputed dagger-proof. He rose at last to buckle on his belt of + hammered steel, from which there hung, behind his loins, a stout, lengthy + dagger, the only weapon that he carried. + </p> + <p> + At his command the horses were saddled and the sumpters laden once more. + Lanciotto held his stirrup, and Zaccaria did like service for Fanfulla, + and presently they were cantering out of that fragrant grove on to the + elastic sward of broad, green pasture-lands. They crossed the stream at a + spot where the widened sheet of water scarce went higher than their + horses' hocks; then veering to the east they rode away from the hills for + a half-league or so until they gained a road. Here they turned northward + again, and pushed on towards Cagli. + </p> + <p> + As the bells were ringing the Ave Maria the cavalcade drew up before the + Palazzo Valdicampo, where two nights ago Gian Maria had been entertained. + Its gates were now as readily thrown wide to welcome the illustrious and + glorious Count of Aquila, who was esteemed by Messer Valdicampo no less + than his more puissant cousin. Chambers were set at his disposal, and at + Fanfulla's; servants were bidden to wait upon them; fresh raiment was laid + out for them, and a noble supper was prepared to do honour to Francesco. + Nor did the generous Valdicampo's manner cool when he learned that + Francesco was in disgrace at the Court of Babbiano and banished from the + dominions of Duke Gian Maria. He expressed sympathetic regret at so + untoward a circumstance and discreetly refrained from passing any opinion + thereupon. + </p> + <p> + Yet later, as they supped, and when perhaps the choice wines had somewhat + relaxed his discretion, he permitted himself to speak of Gian Maria's ways + in terms that were very far from laudatory. + </p> + <p> + “Here, in my house,” he informed them, “he committed an outrage upon a + poor unfortunate, for which an account may yet be asked of me—since + it was under my roof that the thing befell, for all that I knew nothing of + it.” + </p> + <p> + Upon being pressed by Paolo to tell them more, he parted with the + information that the unfortunate in question was Urbino's jester Peppe. At + that, Paolo's glance became more intent. The memory of his meeting with + the fool and his mistress in the woods, a month ago, flashed now across + his mind, and it came to him that he could rightly guess the source whence + his cousin had drawn the information that had led to his own arrest and + banishment. + </p> + <p> + “Of what nature was the outrage?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “From what Peppe himself has told me it would seem that the fool was + possessed of some knowledge which Gian Maria sought, but on which Peppe + was bound by oath to silence. Gian Maria caused him to be secretly taken + and carried off from Urbino. His sbirri brought the fellow here, and to + make him speak the Duke improvised in his bedchamber a tratta di corde, + which had the desired result.” + </p> + <p> + The Count's face grew dark with anger. “The coward!” he muttered. “The + dastardly craven!” + </p> + <p> + “But bethink you, sir Count,” exclaimed Valdicampo, “that this poor Peppe + is a frail and deformed creature, lacking the strength of an ordinary man, + and do not judge him over-harshly.” + </p> + <p> + “It was not of him I spoke,” replied Francesco, “but of my cousin, that + cowardly tyrant, Gian Maria Sforza. Tell me, Messer Valdicampo—what + has become of Ser Peppe?” + </p> + <p> + “He is still here. I have had him tended, and his condition is already + much improved. It will not be long ere he is recovered, but for a few days + yet his arms will remain almost useless. They were all but torn from his + body.” + </p> + <p> + When the meal was done Francesco begged his host to conduct him to Peppe's + chamber. This Valdicampo did, and leaving Fanfulla in the company of the + ladies of his house, he escorted the Count to the room where the poor, + ill-used hunchback was abed tended by one of the women of Valdicampo's + household. + </p> + <p> + “Here is a visitor to see you, Ser Peppe,” the old gentleman announced, + setting down his candle on a table by the bed. The jester turned his great + head towards the newcomer's, and sought with melancoly eyes the face of + his visitor. At sight of him a look of terror spread itself upon his + countenance. + </p> + <p> + “My lord,” he cried, struggling into a sitting posture, “my noble, + gracious lord, have mercy on me. I could tear out this craven tongue of + mine. But did you know what agonies I suffered, and to what a torture they + submitted me to render me unfaithful, it may be that you, yourself, would + pity me.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, that I do,” answered Francesco gently. “Indeed, could I have seen + the consequences that oath would have for you, I had not bound you by it.” + </p> + <p> + The fear in Peppe's face gave place to unbelief. + </p> + <p> + “And you forgive me, lord?” he cried. “I dreaded when you entered that you + were come to punish me for what wrong I may have done you in speaking. But + if you forgive me, it may be that Heaven will forgive me also, and that I + may not be damned. And that were a thousand pities, for what, my lord, + should I do in hell?” + </p> + <p> + “Deride the agonies of Gian Maria,” answered Francesco, with a laugh. + </p> + <p> + “It were almost worth burning for,” mused Peppe, putting forth a hand, + whose lacerated, swollen wrist bore evidence to the torture he had + suffered. At sight of it the Count made an exclamation of angry horror, + and hastened to inquire into the poor fool's condition. + </p> + <p> + “It is not so bad now,” Peppe answered him, “and it is only in consequence + of Messer Valdicampo's insistence that I have kept my bed. I can scarce + use my arms, it is true, but they are improving. To-morrow I shall be up, + and I hope to set out for Urbino, where my dear mistress must be + distressed with fears for my absence, for she is a very kind and + tenderÂhearted lady.” + </p> + <p> + This resolve of Peppe's prompted the Count to offer to conduct him to + Urbino on the morrow, since he, himself, would be journeying that way—an + offer which the fool accepted without hesitation and with lively + gratitude. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. THE FOOL'S INQUISITIVENESS + </h2> + <p> + In the morning Francesco set out once more, accompanied by his servants, + Fanfulla, and the fool. The latter was now so far restored as to be able + to sit a mule, but lest the riding should over-tire him they proceeded at + little more than an ambling pace along the lovely valleys of the Metauro. + Thus it befell that when night descended it found them still journeying, + and some two leagues distant from Urbino. Another league they travelled in + the moonlight, and the fool was beguiling the time for them with a droll + story culled from the bright pages of Messer Boccaccio, when of a sudden + his sharp ears caught a sound that struck him dumb in the middle of a + sentence. + </p> + <p> + “Are you faint?” asked Francesco, turning quickly towards him, and mindful + of the fellow's sore condition. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” answered the fool, with a readiness that dispelled the Count's + alarm on that score. “I thought I heard a sound of marching in the + distance.” + </p> + <p> + “The wind in the trees, Peppino,” explained Fanfulla. + </p> + <p> + “I do not think——” He stopped short and listened and now they + all heard it, for it came wafted to them on a gust of the fitful breeze + that smote their faces. + </p> + <p> + “You are right,” said Francesco. “It is the tramp of men. But what of + that, Peppe? Men will march in Italy. Let us hear the end of your story.” + </p> + <p> + “But who should march in Urbino, and by night?” the fool persisted. + </p> + <p> + “Do I know or do I care?” quoth the Count. “Your story, man.” + </p> + <p> + For all that he was far from satisfied, the fool resumed his narrative. + But he no longer told it with his former irresistible humour. His mind was + occupied with that sound of marching, which came steadily nearer. At + length he could endure it no longer, and the apathy of his companions + fired him openly to rebel. + </p> + <p> + “My lord,” he cried, turning to the Count, and again leaving his story + interrupted, “they are all but upon us.” + </p> + <p> + “True!” agreed Francesco indifferently. “The next turn yonder should bring + us into them.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I beg you, Lord Count, to step aside. Let us pause here, under the + trees, until they have passed. I am full of fears. Perhaps I am a coward, + but I mislike these roving night-hands. It may be a company of + masnadieri.” + </p> + <p> + “What then?” returned the Count, without slackening speed. “What cause + have we to fear a party of robbers?” + </p> + <p> + But Fanfulla and the servants joined their advice to Peppe's, and + prevailed at last upon Francesco to take cover until this company should + have passed. He consented, to pacify them, and wheeling to the right they + entered the border of the forest, drawing rein well in the shadow, whence + they could survey the road and see who passed across the patch of + moonlight that illumined it. And presently the company came along and + swung into that revealing flood of light. To the astonishment of the + watchers they beheld no marauding party such as they had been led to + expect, but a very orderly company of some twenty men, soberly arrayed in + leather hacketons and salades of bright steel, marching sword on thigh and + pike on shoulder. At the head of this company rode a powerfully-built man + on a great sorrel horse, at sight of whom the fool swore softly in + astonishment. In the middle of the party came four litters borne by mules, + and at the side of one of them rode a slender, graceful figure that + provoked from Peppe a second oath. But the profoundest objurgation of all + was wrung from him at sight of a portly bulk in the black habit of the + Dominicans ambling in the rear, who just then was in angry altercation + with a fellow that was urging his mule along with the butt of his + partisan. + </p> + <p> + “May you be roasted on a gridiron like Saint Lawrence,” gasped the irate + priest. “Would you break my neck, brute beast that you are? Do you but + wait until we reach Roccaleone, and by St. Dominic, I'll get your + ruffianly commander to hang you for this ill-seasoned jest.” + </p> + <p> + But his tormentor laughed for answer, and smote the mule again, a blow + this time that almost caused it to rear up. The friar cried out in angry + alarm, and then, still storming and threatening his persecutor, he passed + on. After him came six heavily-laden carts, each drawn by a pair of + bullocks, and the rear of the procession was brought up by a flock of a + dozen bleating sheep, herded by a blasphemant man-at-arms. They passed the + astonished watchers, who remained concealed until that odd company had + melted away into the night. + </p> + <p> + “I could swear,” said Fanfulla, “that that friar and I have met before.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor would you do a perjury,” answered him the fool. “For it is that fat + hog Fra Domenico—he that went with you to the Convent of Acquasparta + to fetch unguents for his Excellency.” + </p> + <p> + “What does he in that company, and who are they?” asked the Count, turning + to the fool as they rode out of their ambush. + </p> + <p> + “Ask me where the devil keeps his lures,” quoth the fool, “and I'll make + some shift to answer you. But as for what does Fra Domenico in that + galley, it is more than I can hazard a guess on. He is not the only one + known to me,” Peppino added, “There was Ercole Fortemani, a great, dirty, + blustering ruffian whom I never saw in aught but rags, riding at their + heads in garments of most unwonted wholeness; and there was Romeo Gonzaga, + whom I never knew to stir by night save to an assignation. Strange things + must be happening in Urbino.” + </p> + <p> + “And the litters?” inquired Francesco, “Can you hazard no guess as to + their meaning?” + </p> + <p> + “None,” said he, “saving that they may account for the presence of Messer + Gonzaga. For litters argue women.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems, fool, that not even your wisdom shall avail us. But you heard + the friar say they were bound for Roccaleone?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I heard that. And by means of it we shall probably learn the rest at + the end of our journey.” + </p> + <p> + And being a man of extremely inquisitive mind, the fool set his inquiries + on foot the moment they entered the gates of Urbino in the morning—for + they had reached the city over-late to gain admittance that same night, + and were forced to seek shelter in one of the houses by the river. It was + of the Captain of the Gate that he sought information. + </p> + <p> + “Can you tell me, Ser Capitan,” he inquired, “what company was that that + travelled yesternight to Roccaleone?” + </p> + <p> + The captain looked at him a moment. + </p> + <p> + “There was none that I know of,” said he, “Certainly none from Urbino.” + </p> + <p> + “You keep a marvellous watch,” said the fool drily. “I tell you that a + company of men-at-arms some twenty strong went last night from Urbino to + Roccaleone.” + </p> + <p> + “To Roccaleone?” echoed the captain, with a musing air, more attentively + than before, as if the repetition of that name had suggested something to + his mind. “Why, it is the castle of Monna Valentina.” + </p> + <p> + “True, sapient sir. But what of the company, and why was it travelling so, + by night?” + </p> + <p> + “How know you it proceeded from Urbino?” quoth the captain earnestly. + </p> + <p> + “Because at its head I recognised the roaring warrior Ercole Fortemani, in + the middle rode Romeo Gonzaga, in the rear came Fra Domenico, Madonna's + confessor—men of Urbino all.” + </p> + <p> + The officer's face grew purple at the news. + </p> + <p> + “Were there any women in the party?” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “I saw none,” replied the fool, in whom this sudden eagerness of the + captain's awakened caution and reflection. + </p> + <p> + “But there were four litters,” put in Francesco, whose nature was less + suspicious and alert than the wise fool's. + </p> + <p> + Too late Peppe scowled caution at him. The captain swore a great oath. + </p> + <p> + “It is she,” he cried, with assurance. “And this company was travelling to + Roccaleone, you say. How know you that?” + </p> + <p> + “We heard it from the friar,” answered Francesco readily. + </p> + <p> + “Then, by the Virgin! we have them. Olá!” He turned from them, and ran + shouting into the gatehouse, to re-emerge a moment later with half-dozen + soldiers at his heels. + </p> + <p> + “To the Palace,” he commanded, and as his men surrounded Francesco's + party, “Come, sir,” he said to the Count. “You must go with us, and tell + your story to the Duke.” + </p> + <p> + “There is no need for all this force,” answered Francesco coldly. “In any + case, I could not pass through Urbino without seeing Duke Guidobaldo. I am + the Count of Aquila.” + </p> + <p> + At once the captain's bearing grew respectful. He made his apologies for + the violent measures of his zeal, and bade his men fall behind. Ordering + them to follow him, he mounted a horse that was brought him, and rode + briskly through the borgo at the Count's side. And as he rode he told them + what the jester's quick intuition had already whispered to him. The lady + Valentina was fled from Urbino in the night, and in her company were gone + three of her ladies, and—it was also supposed, since they had + disappeared—Fra Domenico and Romeo Gonzaga. + </p> + <p> + Aghast at what he heard, Francesco pressed his informer for more news; but + there was little more that the captain could tell him, beyond the fact + that it was believed she had been driven to it to escape her impending + marriage with the Duke of Babbiano. Guidobaldo was distraught at what had + happened, and anxious to bring the lady back before news of her behaviour + should reach the ears of Gian Maria. It was, therefore, a matter of no + little satisfaction to the captain that the task should be his to bear + Guidobaldo this news of her whereabouts which from Francesco and the + jester he had derived. + </p> + <p> + Peppe looked glum and sullen. Had he but bridled his cursed curiosity, and + had the Count but taken the alarm in time and held his peace, all might + have been well with his beloved patrona. As it was, he—the one man + ready to die that he might serve her—had been the very one to betray + her refuge. He heard the Count's laugh, and the sound of it was fuel to + his anger. But Francesco only thought of the splendid daring of the lady's + action. + </p> + <p> + “But these men-at-arms that she had with her?” he cried. “For what purpose + so numerous a bodyguard?” + </p> + <p> + The captain looked at him a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Can you not guess?” he inquired. “Perhaps you do not know the Castle of + Roccaleone.” + </p> + <p> + “It were odd if I did not know the most impregnable fortress in Italy.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, then, does it not become clear? She has taken this company for a + garrison, and in Roccaleone she clearly intends to resist in rebel fashion + the wishes of his Highness.” + </p> + <p> + At that the Count threw back his head, and scared the passers-by with as + hearty a peal of laughter as ever crossed his lips. + </p> + <p> + “By the Host!” he gasped, laughter still choking his utterance. “There is + a maid for you! Do you hear what the captain says, Fanfulla? She means to + resist this wedding by armed force if needs be. Now, on my soul, if + Guidobaldo insists upon the union after this, why, then, he has no heart, + no feeling. As I live, she is a kinswoman that such a warlike prince might + well be proud of. Small wonder that they do not fear the Borgia in + Urbino.” And he laughed again. But the captain scowled at him, and Peppe + frowned. + </p> + <p> + “She is a rebellious jade,” quoth the captain sourly. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, softly,” returned Francesco; for all that he still laughed. “If you + were of knightly rank I'd break a lance with you on that score. As it is——” + he paused, his laughter ceased, and his dark eyes took the captain's + measure in a curious way. “Best leave her uncensured, Ser Capitano. She is + of the house of Rovere, and closely allied to that of Montefeltro.” + </p> + <p> + The officer felt the rebuke, and silence reigned between them after that. + </p> + <p> + It was whilst Francesco, Fanfulla and Peppe waited in the ante-chamber for + admittance to the Duke that the jester vented some of the bitterness he + felt at their babbling. The splendid room was thronged with a courtly + crowd. There were magnificent nobles and envoys, dark ecclesiastics and + purple prelates, captains in steel and court officers in silk and velvet. + Yet, heedless of who might hear him, Peppe voiced his rebuke, and the + terms he employed were neither as measured nor as respectful as the + Count's rank dictated. Yet with that fairness of mind that made him so + universally beloved, Francesco offered no resentment to the fool's + reproof. He saw that it was deserved, for it threw upon the matter a light + that was new and more searching. But he presently saw further than did the + fool, and he smiled at the other's scowls. + </p> + <p> + “Not so loud Peppe,” said he. “You over-estimate the harm. At worst, we + have but anticipated by a little what the Duke must have learnt from other + sources.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is just that little—the few hours or days—that will do + the mischief,” snapped the jester testily, for all that he lowered his + voice. “In a few days Gian Maria will be back. If he were met with the + news that the Lady Valentina were missing, that she had run away with + Romeo Gonzaga—for that, you'll see, will presently be the tale—do + you think he would linger here, or further care to pursue his wooing? Not + he. These alliances that are for State purposes alone, in which the heart + plays no part, demand, at least, that on the lady's side there shall be a + record unblemished by the breath of scandal. His Highness would have + returned him home, and Madonna would have been rid of him.” + </p> + <p> + “But at a strange price, Peppe,” answered Franeesco gravely. “Still,” he + added, “I agree that I would have served her purpose better by keeping + silent. But that such an affair will cool the ardour of my cousin I do not + think. You are wrong in placing this among the alliances in which the + heart has no part. On my cousin's side—if all they say be true—the + heart plays a very considerable part indeed. But, for the rest—what + harm have we done?” + </p> + <p> + “Time will show,” said the hunchback. + </p> + <p> + “It will show, then, that I have done no hurt whatever to her interests. + By now she is safe in Roccaleone. What, then, can befall her? Guidobaldo, + no doubt, will repair to her, and across the moat he will entreat her to + be a dutiful niece and to return. She will offer to do so on condition + that he pass her his princely word not to further molest her with the + matter of this marriage. And then?” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” growled the fool, “And then? Who shall say what may befall then? + Let us say that his Highness reduces her by force.” + </p> + <p> + “A siege?” laughed the Count. “Pooh! Where is your wisdom, fool! Do you + think the splendid Guidobaldo is eager to become the sport of Italy, and + go down to posterity as the duke who besieged his niece because she + resisted his ordainings touching the matter of her wedding?” + </p> + <p> + “Guidobaldo da Montefeltro can be a violent man upon occasion,” the fool + was answering, when the officer who had left them reappeared with the + announcement that his Highness awaited them. + </p> + <p> + They found the Prince in a very gloomy mood, and after greeting Francesco + with cool ceremony, he questioned him on the matter of the company they + had met yesternight. These inquiries he conducted with characteristic + dignity, and no more show of concern than if it had been an affair of a + strayed falcon. He thanked Francesco for his information, and gave orders + that the seneschal should place apartments at his and Fanfulla's disposal + for as long as it should please them to grace his court. With that he + dismissed them, bidding the officer remain to receive his orders. + </p> + <p> + “And that,” said Francesco to Peppe, as they crossed the ante-chamber in + the wake of a servant, “is the man who would lay siege to his niece's + castle? For once, sir fool, your wisdom is at fault.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not know the Duke, Excellency,” answered the fool. “Beneath that + frozen exterior burns a furnace, and there is no madness he would not + commit.” + </p> + <p> + But Francesco only laughed as, linking arms with Fanfulla, he passed down + the gallery on his way to the apartments to which the servant was + conducting them. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. GIAN MARIA MAKES A VOW + </h2> + <p> + In a measure the events that followed would almost tend to show that the + fool was right. For even if the notion of besieging Valentina and reducing + her by force of arms was not Guidobaldo's own in the first place, yet he + lent a very willing ear to the counsel that they should thus proceed, when + angrily urged two days thereafter by the Duke of Babbiano. + </p> + <p> + Upon hearing the news Gian Maria had abandoned himself to such a licence + of rage as made those about him tremble from the highest to the meanest. + The disappointment of his passion was in itself justification enough for + this; but, in addition, Gian Maria beheld in the flight of Valentina the + frustration of those bold schemes of which had talked so loudly to his + councillors and his mother. It was his confidence in those same schemes + that had induced him to send that defiant answer to Caesar Borgia. As a + consequence of this there was haste—most desperate haste—that + he should wed, since wedding was to lend him the power to carry out his + brave promises of protecting his crown from the Duke of Valentinois, not + to speak of the utter routing of the Borgia which he had wildly undertaken + to accomplish. + </p> + <p> + That the destinies of States should be tossed to the winds of Heaven by a + slip of a girl was to him something as insufferable as it had been + unexpected. + </p> + <p> + “She must be brought back!” he had screeched, in his towering passion. + “She must be brought back at once.” + </p> + <p> + “True!” answered Guidobaldo, in his serene way; “she must be brought back. + So far, I agree with you entirely. Tell me, now, how the thing is to be + accomplished.” And there was sarcasm in his voice. + </p> + <p> + “What difficulties does it present?” inquired Gian Maria. + </p> + <p> + “No difficulties,” was the ironical reply. “She has shut herself up in the + stoutest castle in Italy, and tells me that she will not come forth until + I promise her freedom of choice in the matter of marriage. Clearly, there + are no difficulties attached to her being brought back.” + </p> + <p> + Gian Maria showed his teeth. + </p> + <p> + “Do you give me leave to go about it in my own way?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Not only do I give you leave, but I'll render you all the assistance in + my power, if you can devise a means for luring her from Roccaleone.” + </p> + <p> + “I hesitate no longer. Your niece, Lord Duke, is a rebel, and as a rebel + is she to be treated. She has garrisoned a castle, and hurled defiance at + the ruler of the land. It is a declaration of war, Highness, and war we + shall have.” + </p> + <p> + “You would resort to force?” asked Guidobaldo, disapproval lurking in his + voice. + </p> + <p> + “To the force of arms, your Highness,” answered Gian Maria, with prompt + fierceness. “I will lay siege to this castle of hers, and I shall tear it + stone from stone. Oh, I would have wooed her nicely had she let me, with + gentle words and mincing ways that maidens love. But since she defies us, + I'll woo her with arquebuse and cannon, and seek by starvation to make her + surrender to my suit. My love shall put on armour to subject her, and I + vow to God that I shall not shave my beard until I am inside her castle.” + </p> + <p> + Guidobaldo looked grave. + </p> + <p> + “I should counsel gentler measures,” said he. “Besiege her if you will, + but do not resort to too much violence. Cut off their resources and let + hunger be your advocate. Even so, I fear me, you will be laughed at by all + Italy,” he added bluntly. + </p> + <p> + “A fig for that! Let the fools laugh if they be minded to. What forces has + she at Roccaleone?” + </p> + <p> + At the question Guidobaldo's brow grew dark. It was as if he had recalled + some circumstance that had lain forgotten. + </p> + <p> + “Some twenty knaves led by a notorious ruffian of the name of Fortemani. + The company was enrolled, they tell me, by a gentleman of my court, a + kinsman of my Duchess, Messer Romeo Gonzaga.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he with her now?” gasped Gian Maria. + </p> + <p> + “It would seem he is.” + </p> + <p> + “By the Virgin's Ring of Perugia!” spluttered Gian Maria in increased + dismay. “Do you suggest that they fled together?” + </p> + <p> + “My lord!” Guidobaldo's voice rang sharp and threatening. “It is of my + niece that you are speaking. She took this gentleman with her just as she + took three of her ladies and a page or two, to form such attendance as + befits her birth.” + </p> + <p> + Gian Maria took a turn in the apartment, a frown wrinkling his brow, and + his lips pressed tight. Guidobaldo's proud words by no means convinced + him. But the one preponderating desire in his heart just then was to + humble the girl who had dared to flout him, to make her bend her stubborn + neck. At last: + </p> + <p> + “I may indeed become the laughing-stock of Italy,” he muttered, in a + concentrated voice, “but I shall carry my resolve through, and my first + act upon entering Roccaleone will be to hang this knave Gonzaga from its + highest turret.” + </p> + <p> + That very day Gian Maria began his preparations for the expedition against + Roccaleone, and word of it was carried by Fanfulla to Francesco—for + the latter had left his quarters at the palace upon hearing of Gian + Maria's coming, and was now lodging at the sign of the “Sun.” + </p> + <p> + Upon hearing the news he swore a mighty oath in which he consigned his + cousin to the devil, by whom, in that moment, he pronounced him begotten. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think,” he asked, when he was calmer, “that this man Gonzaga is + her lover?” + </p> + <p> + “It is more than I can say,” answered Fanfulla. “There is the fact that + she fled with him. Though when I questioned Peppe on this same subject he + first laughed the notion to scorn, and then grew grave. 'She loves him + not, the popinjay,' he said; 'but he loves her, or I am blind else, and + he's a villain, I know.'” + </p> + <p> + Francesco stood up, his face mighty serious, and his dark eyes full of + uneasy thought. + </p> + <p> + “By the Host! It is a shameful thing,” he cried out at last. “This poor + lady so beset on every hand by a parcel of villains, each more + unscrupulous than the other. Fanfulla, send for Peppe. We must despatch + the fool to her with warning of Gian Maria's coming, and warning, too, + against this man of Mantua she has fled with.” + </p> + <p> + “Too late,” answered Fanfulla. “The fool departed this morning for + Roccaleone, to join his patrona.” + </p> + <p> + Francesco looked his dismay. + </p> + <p> + “She will be undone,” he groaned. “Thus between the upper and the nether + stone—between Gian Maria and Romeo Gonzaga. GesĂą! she will be + undone! And she so brave and so high-spirited!” + </p> + <p> + He moved slowly to the casement, and stood staring at the windows across + the street, on which the setting sun fell in a ruddy glow. But it was not + the windows that he saw. It was a scene in the woods at Acquasparta on + that morning after the mountain fight; a man lying wounded in the bracken, + and over him a gentle lady bending with eyes of pity and solicitude. Often + since had his thoughts revisited that scene, sometimes with a smile, + sometimes with a sigh, and sometimes with both at once. + </p> + <p> + He turned suddenly upon Fanfulla. “I will go myself,” he announced. + </p> + <p> + “You?” echoed Fanfulla. “But the Venetians?” + </p> + <p> + By a gesture the Count signified how little the Venetians weighed with him + when compared with the fortunes of this lady. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to Roccaleone,” he insisted, “now—at once.” And striding + to the door he beat his hands together and called Lanciotto. + </p> + <p> + “You said, Fanfulla, that in these days there are no longer maidens held + in bondage to whom a knight-errant may lend aid. You were at fault, for in + Monna Valentina we have the captive maiden, in my cousin the dragon, in + Gonzaga another, and in me the errant knight who is destined—I hope—to + save her.” + </p> + <p> + “You will save her from Gian Maria?” questioned Fanfulla incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “I will attempt it.” + </p> + <p> + He turned to his servant, who entered as he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “We set out in a quarter of an hour, Lanciotto,” said he. “Saddle for me + and for yourself. You are to go with me. Zaccaria may remain with Messer + degli Arcipreti. You will care for him, Fanfulla, and he will serve you + well.” + </p> + <p> + “But what of me?” cried Fanfulla. “Do I not accompany you?” + </p> + <p> + “If you will, yes. But you might serve me better by returning to Babbiano + and watching the events there, sending me word of what befalls—for + great things will befall soon if my cousin returns not and the Borgia + advances. It is upon this that I am founding such hopes as I have.” + </p> + <p> + “But whither shall I send you word? To Roccaleone?” + </p> + <p> + Francesco reflected a moment. “If you do not hear from me, then send your + news to Roccaleone, for if I should linger there and we are besieged, it + will perhaps be impossible to send a message to you. But if—as I + hope—I go to Aquila, I will send you word of it.” + </p> + <p> + “To Aquila?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. It may be that I shall be at Aquila before the week is out. But keep + it secret, Fanfulla, and I'll fool these dukes to the very top of their + unhealthy bent.” + </p> + <p> + A half-hour later the Count of Aquila, mounted on a stout Calabrian horse, + and attended by Lanciotto on a mule, rode gently down towards the valley. + They went unnoticed, for what cared for them the peasants that sang at + their labours in the contado? + </p> + <p> + They met a merchant, whose servant was urging his laden sumpters up the + hilly road to the city on the heights, and they passed him with a + courteous greeting. Farther they came upon a mounted company of nobles and + ladies, returning from a hawking party, and followed by attendants bearing + their hooded falcons, and their gay laughter still rang in Francesco's + ears after he had passed from their sight and vanished in the purple mists + of eventide that came up to meet him from the river. + </p> + <p> + They turned westward towards the Apennines, and pushed on after night had + fallen, until the fourth hour, when at Francesco's suggestion they drew + rein before a sleepy, wayside locanda, and awoke the host to demand + shelter. There they slept no longer than until matins, so that the grey + light of dawn saw them once more upon their way, and by the time the sun + had struck with its first golden shaft the grey crest of the old hills, + they drew rein on the brink of the roaring torrent at the foot of the + mighty crag that was crowned by the Castle of Roccaleone. + </p> + <p> + Grim and gaunt it loomed above the fertile vale, with that torrent + circling it in a natural moat, like a giant sentinel of the Apennines that + were its background. And now the sunlight raced down the slopes of the old + mountains like a tide. It smote the square tower of the keep, then flowed + adown the wall, setting the old grey stone a-gleaming, and flashing back + from a mullioned window placed high up. Lower it came, revealing grotesque + gargoyles, flooding the crenellated battlements and turning green the ivy + and lichen that but a moment back had blackened the stout, projecting + buttresses. Thence it leapt to the ground, and drove the shadow before it + down the grassy slope, until it reached the stream and sparkled on its + foaming, tumbling waters, scattering a hundred colours through the flying + spray. + </p> + <p> + And all that time, until the sun had reached him and included him in the + picture it was awakening, the Count of Aquila sat in his saddle, with + thoughtful eyes uplifted to the fortress. + </p> + <p> + Then, Lanciotto following him, he walked his horse round the western side, + where the torrent was replaced by a smooth arm of water, for which a + cutting had been made to complete the isolation of the crag of Roccaleone. + But here, where the castle might more easily have become vulnerable, a + blank wall greeted him, broken by no more than a narrow slit or two midway + below the battlements. He rode on towards the northern side, crossing a + footbridge that spanned the river, and at last coming to a halt before the + entrance tower. Here again the moat was formed by the torrential waters of + the mountain stream. + </p> + <p> + He bade his servant rouse the inmates, and Lanciotto hallooed in a voice + that nature had made deep and powerful. The echo of it went booming up to + scare the birds on the hillside, but evoked no answer from the silent + castle. + </p> + <p> + “They keep a zealous watch,” laughed the Count. “Again, Lanciotto.” + </p> + <p> + The man obeyed him, and again and again his deep voice rang out like a + trumpet-call before sign was made from within that it had been heard. At + length, above the parapet of the tower appeared a stunted figure with head + unkempt, as grotesque almost as any of the gargoyles beneath, and an + owlish face peered at them from one of the crenels of the battlement, and + demanded, in surly, croaking tones their business. Instantly the Count + recognised Peppe. + </p> + <p> + “Good morrow, fool,” he bade him. + </p> + <p> + “You, my lord?” exclaimed the jester. + </p> + <p> + “You sleep soundly at Roccaleone,” quoth Francesco. “Bestir that knavish + garrison of yours, and bid the lazy dogs let down the bridge. I have news + for Monna Valentina.” + </p> + <p> + “At once, Excellency,” the fool replied, and would have gone upon the + instant but that Francesco recalled him. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Peppe, a knight—the knight she met at Acquasparta, if you + will. But leave my name unspoken.” + </p> + <p> + With the assurance that he would obey his wishes Peppe went his errand. A + slight delay ensued, and then upon the battlements appeared Gonzaga, + sleepy and contentious, attended by a couple of Fortemani's knaves, who + came to ask the nature of Francesco's business. + </p> + <p> + “It is with Monna Valentina,” answered him Francesco, raising head and + voice, so that Gonzaga recognised him for the wounded knight of + Acquasparta, remembered and scowled. + </p> + <p> + “I am Monna Valentina's captain here,” he announced, with arrogance. “And + you may deliver to me such messages as you bear.” + </p> + <p> + There followed a contention, conducted ill-humouredly on the part of + Gonzaga and scarcely less so on the Count's, Francesco stoutly refusing to + communicate his business to any but Valentina, and Gonzaga as stoutly + refusing to disturb the lady at that hour, or to lower the bridge. Words + flew between them across the waters of the moat, and grew hotter at each + fresh exchange, till in the end they were abruptly terminated by the + appearance of Valentina herself, attended by Peppino. + </p> + <p> + “What is this, Gonzaga?” she inquired, her manner excited, for the fool + had told her that it was the knight Francesco who sought admittance, and + at the very mention of the name she had flushed, then paled, then started + for the ramparts. “Why is this knight denied admittance since he bears a + message for me?” And from where she stood she sought with admiring eyes + the graceful shape of the Count of Aquila—the knight-errant of her + dreams. Francesco bared his head, and bent to the withers of his horse in + courteous greeting. She turned to Gonzaga impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “For what do you wait?” she cried. “Have you not understood my wishes? Let + the bridge be lowered.” + </p> + <p> + “Bethink you, Madonna,” he remonstrated. “You do not know this man. He may + be a spy of Gian Maria's—a hireling paid to betray us.” + </p> + <p> + “You fool,” she answered sharply. “Do you not see that it is the wounded + knight we met that day you were escorting me to Urbino?” + </p> + <p> + “What shall that signify?” demanded he. “Is it proof of his honesty of + purpose or loyalty to you? Be advised, Madonna, and let him deliver his + message from where he is. He is safer there.” + </p> + <p> + She measured him with a determined eye. + </p> + <p> + “Messer Gonzaga, order them to lower the bridge,” she bade him. + </p> + <p> + “But, lady, bethink you of your peril.” + </p> + <p> + “Peril?” she echoed. “Peril from two men, and we a garrison of over + twenty? Surely the man is a coward who talks so readily of perils. Have + the drawbridge lowered.” + </p> + <p> + “But if——” he began, with a desperate vehemence, when again + she cut him short. + </p> + <p> + “Am I to be obeyed? Am I mistress, and will you bid them lower the bridge, + or must I, myself, go see to it?” + </p> + <p> + With a look of despairing anger and a shrug of the shoulders he turned + from her, and despatched one of his men with an order. A few moments + later, with a creaking of hinges and a clanking of chains, the great + bridge swung down and dropped with a thud to span the gulf. Instantly the + Count spurred his horse forward, and followed by Lanciotto rode across the + plank and under the archway of the entrance tower into the first + courtyard. + </p> + <p> + Now, scarcely had he drawn rein there when through a door at the far end + appeared the gigantic figure of Fortemani, half-clad and sword in hand. At + sight of Francesco the fellow leaped down a half-dozen steps, and advanced + towards him with a burst of oaths. + </p> + <p> + “To me!” he shouted, in a voice that might have waked the dead. “Olá! Olá! + What devil's work is this? How come you here? By whose orders was the + bridge let down?” + </p> + <p> + “By the orders of Monna Valentina's captain,” answered Francesco, + wondering what madman might be this. + </p> + <p> + “Captain?” cried the other, coming to a standstill and his face turning + purple. “Body of Satan! What captain? I am captain here.” + </p> + <p> + The Count looked him over in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Why, then,” said he, “you are the very man I seek. I congratulate you on + the watch you keep, Messer Capitano. Your castle is so excellently + patrolled that had I been minded for a climb I had scaled your walls and + got within your gates without arousing any of your slumbering sentries.” + </p> + <p> + Fortemani eyed him with a lowering glance. The prosperity of the past four + days had increased the insolence inherent in the man. + </p> + <p> + “Is that your affair?” he growled menacingly. “You are over-bold, sir + stranger, to seek a quarrel with me, and over-pert to tell me how I shall + discharge my captaincy. By the Passion! You shall be punished.” + </p> + <p> + “Punished—I?” echoed Francesco, on whose brow there now descended a + scowl as black as Ercole's own. + </p> + <p> + “Aye, punished, young sir. Ercole Fortemani is my name.” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard of you,” answered the Count contemptuously, “and of how you + belie that name of yours, for they tell me that a more drunken, cowardly, + good-for-nothing rogue is not to be found in Italy—no, not even in + the Pope's dominions. And have a care how you cast the word 'punishment' + at your betters, animal. The moat is none so distant, and the immersion + may profit you. For I'll swear you've not been washed since they baptized + you—if, indeed, you be a son of Mother Church at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Sangue di Cristo!” spluttered the enraged bully, his face mottled. “This + to me? Come down from that horse.” + </p> + <p> + He laid hold of Francesco's leg to drag him to the ground, but the Count + wrenched it free by a quick motion that left a gash from his spur upon the + captain's hands. Simultaneously he raised his whip, and would have laid + the lash of it across the broad of Fortemani's back—for it had + angered him beyond words to have a ruffian of this fellow's quality + seeking to ruffle it with him—but at that moment a female voice, + stern and imperative, bade them hold in their quarrel. + </p> + <p> + Fortemani fell back nursing his lacerated hand and muttering curses, + whilst Francesco turned in the direction whence that voice had come. + Midway on the flight of stone steps he beheld Valentina, followed by + Gonzaga, Peppe, and a couple of men-at-arms, descending from the + battlements. + </p> + <p> + Calm and queenly she stood, dressed in a camorra of grey velvet with black + sleeves, which excellently set off her handsome height. Gonzaga was + leaning forward, speaking into her ear, and for all that his voice was + subdued, some of his words travelled down to Francesco on the still, + morning air. + </p> + <p> + “Was I not wise, Madonna, in that I hesitated to admit him? You see what + manner of man he is.” + </p> + <p> + The blood flamed in Francesco's cheeks, nor did it soften his chagrin to + note the look which Valentina flashed down at him. + </p> + <p> + Instantly he leapt to the ground, and flinging his reins to Lanciotto he + went forward to the foot of that stone staircase, his broad hat slung back + upon his shoulders, to meet that descending company. + </p> + <p> + “Is this seemly, sir?” she questioned angrily. “Does it become you to + brawl with my garrison the moment you are admitted?” + </p> + <p> + The blood rose higher in Francesco's face, and now suffused his temples + and reached his hair. Yet his voice was well restrained as he made answer: + </p> + <p> + “Madonna, this knave was insolent.” + </p> + <p> + “An insolence that you no doubt provoked,” put in Gonzaga, a dimple + showing on his woman's cheek. But the sterner rebuke fell from the lips of + Valentina. + </p> + <p> + “Knave?” she questioned, with flushed countenance. “If you would not have + me regret your admittance, Messer Francesco, I pray you curb your words. + Here are no knaves. That, sir, is the captain of my soldiers.” + </p> + <p> + Francesco bowed submissively, as patient under her reproof as he had been + hasty under Fortemani's. + </p> + <p> + “It was on the matter of this captaincy that we fell to words,” he + answered, with more humility. “By his own announcement I understood this + nobleman”—and his eyes turned to Gonzaga—“to be your captain.” + </p> + <p> + “He is the captain of my castle,” she informed him. + </p> + <p> + “As you see, Ser Francesco,” put in Peppe, who had perched himself upon + the balustrade, “we suffer from no lack of captains here. We have also Fra + Domenico, who is captain of our souls and of the kitchen; myself am + captain of——” + </p> + <p> + “Devil take you, fool,” snapped Gonzaga, thrusting him roughly from his + perch. Then turning abruptly to the Count: “You bear a message for us, + sir?” he questioned loftily. + </p> + <p> + Swallowing the cavalier tone, and overlooking the pronoun Gonzaga + employed, Francesco inclined his head again to the lady. + </p> + <p> + “I should prefer to deliver it in more privacy than this.” And his eye + travelled round the court and up the steps behind, where was now collected + the entire company of Fortemani. Gonzaga sneered and tossed his golden + curls, but Valentina saw naught unreasonable in the request, and bidding + Romeo attend her and Francesco follow, she led the way. + </p> + <p> + They crossed the quadrangle, and, mounting the steps down which Fortemani + had dashed to meet the Count, they passed into the banqueting-hall, which + opened directly upon the south side of the courtyard. The Count, following + in her wake, ran the gauntlet of scowls of the assembled mercenaries. He + stalked past them unmoved, taking their measure as he went, and estimating + their true value with the unerring eye of the practised condottiero who + has had to do with the enrolling of men and the handling of them. So + little did he like their looks that on the threshold of the hall he paused + and stayed Gonzaga. + </p> + <p> + “I am loath to leave my servant at the mercy of those ruffians, sir. May I + beg that you will warn them against offering him violence?” + </p> + <p> + “Ruffians?” cried the lady angrily, before Gonzaga could offer a reply. + “They are my soldiers.” + </p> + <p> + Again he bowed, and there was a cold politeness in the tones in which he + answered her: + </p> + <p> + “I crave your pardon, and I will say no more—unless it be to deplore + that I may not felicitate you on your choice.” + </p> + <p> + It was Gonzaga's turn to wax angry, for the choice had been his. + </p> + <p> + “Your message will have need to be a weighty one, sir, to earn our + patience for your impertinence.” + </p> + <p> + Francesco returned the look of those blue eyes which vainly sought to + flash ferociously, and he made little attempt to keep his scorn from + showing in his glance. He permitted himself even to shrug his shoulders a + trifle impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, indeed, I think that I had best begone,” he answered regretfully, + “for it is a place whose inmates seem all bent on quarrelling with me. + First your captain Fortemani greets me with an insolence hard to leave + unpunished. You, yourself, Madonna, resent that I should crave protection + for my man against those fellows whose looks give rise for my + solicitation. You are angry that I should dub them ruffians, as if I had + followed the calling of arms these ten years without acquiring knowledge + of the quality of a man however much you may disguise him. And lastly, to + crown all, this cicisbeo”—and he spread a hand contemptuously + towards Gonzaga—“speaks of my impertinences.” + </p> + <p> + “Madonna,” cried Gonzaga, “I beg that you will let me deal with him.” + </p> + <p> + Unwittingly, unwillingly, Gonzaga saved the situation by that prayer. The + anger that was fast rising in Madonna's heart, stirred by the proud + bearing of the Count, was scattered before the unconscious humour of her + captain's appeal, in such ludicrous contrast was his mincing speech and + slender figure with Francesco's firm tones and lean, active height. She + did not laugh, for that would have been to have spoilt all, but she looked + from one to the other with quiet relish, noting the glance of surprise and + raised eyebrows with which the Count received the courtier's request to be + let deal with him. And thus, being turned from anger, the balance of her + mind was quick to adjust itself, and she bethought her that perhaps there + was reason in what this knight advanced, and that his reception had lacked + the courtesy that was his due. In a moment, with incomparable grace and + skill, she had soothed Gonzaga's ruffled vanity, and appeased the Count's + more sturdy resentment. + </p> + <p> + “And now, Messer Francesco,” she concluded, “let us be friends, and let me + hear your business. I beg that you will sit.” + </p> + <p> + They had passed into the banqueting-hall—a noble apartment, whose + walls were frescoed with hunting and pastoral scenes, one or two of which + were the work of Pisaniello. There were, too, some stray trophies of the + chase, and, here and there, a suit of costly armour that caught the + sunlight pouring through the tall, mullioned windows. At the far end stood + a richly carved screen of cedar, and above this appeared the twisted + railing of the minstrels' gallery. In a tall armchair of untanned leather, + at the head of the capacious board, Monna Valentina sat herself, Gonzaga + taking his stand at her elbow, and Francesco fronting her, leaning lightly + against the table. + </p> + <p> + “The news I bear you, lady, is soon told,” said the Count. “I would its + quality were better. Your suitor Gian Maria returning to Guidobaldo's + court, eager for the nuptials that were promised him, has learnt of your + flight to Roccaleone and is raising—indeed will have raised by now—an + army to invest and reduce your fortress.” + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga turned as pale as the vest of white silk that gleamed beneath his + doublet of pearl-coloured velvet at this realisation of the prophecies he + had uttered without believing. A sickly fear possessed his soul. What fate + would they mete out to him who had been the leading spirit in Valentina's + rebellion? He could have groaned aloud at this miscarriage of all his fine + plans. Where now would be the time to talk of love, to press and carry his + suit with Valentina and render himself her husband? There would be war in + the air, and bloody work that made his skin creep and turn cold to ponder + on. And the irony of it all was keenly cruel. It was the very contingency + that he had prophesied, assured that neither Guidobaldo nor Gian Maria + would be so mad as to court ridicule by engaging upon it. + </p> + <p> + For a second Francesco's eyes rested on the courtier's face, and saw the + fear written there for all to read. The shadow of a smile quivered on his + lips as his glance moved on to meet the eyes of Valentina, sparkling as + sparkles frost beneath the sun. + </p> + <p> + “Why, let them come!” she exclaimed, almost in exultation. “This ducal oaf + shall find me very ready for him. We are armed at all points. We have + victuals to last us three months, if need be, and we have no lack of + weapons. Let Gian Maria come, and he will find Valentina della Rovere none + so easy to reduce. To you, sir,” she continued, with more calm, “to you on + whom I have no claim, I am more than grateful for your chivalrous act in + riding here to warn me.” + </p> + <p> + Francesco sighed; a look of regret crossed his face. + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” he said. “When I rode hither, Madonna, I had hoped to serve you to + a better purpose. I had advice to offer and assistance if you should need + it; but the sight of those men-at-arms of yours makes me fear that it is + not advice upon which it would be wise to act. For the plan I had in mind, + it would be of the first importance that your soldiers should be + trustworthy, and this, I fear me, they are not.” + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless,” put in Gonzaga feverishly, clinging to a slender hope, + “let us hear it.” + </p> + <p> + “I beg that you will,” said Valentina. + </p> + <p> + Thus enjoined, Francesco pondered a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Are you acquainted with the politics of Babbiano?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “I know something of them.” + </p> + <p> + “I will make the position quite clear to you, Madonna,” he rejoined. And + with that he told her of the threatened descent of Caesar Borgia upon Gian + Maria's duchy, and hence, of the little time at her suitor's disposal; so + that if he could but be held in check before the walls of Roccaleone for a + little while, all might be well. “But seeing in what haste he is,” he + ended, “his methods are likely to be rough and desperate, and I had + thought that meanwhile you need not remain here, Madonna.” + </p> + <p> + “Not remain?” she cried, scorn of the notion in her voice. “Not remain?” + quoth Gonzaga timorously, hope sounding in his. + </p> + <p> + “Precisely, Madonna. I would have proposed that you leave Gian Maria an + empty nest, so that even if the castle should fall into his hands he would + gain nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “You would advise me to fly?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + “I came prepared to do so, but the sight of your men restrains me. They + are not trustworthy, and to save their dirty skins they might throw + Roccaleone open to the besiegers, and thus your flight would be + discovered, while yet there might be time to render it futile.” + </p> + <p> + Before she could frame an answer there was Gonzaga feverishly urging her + to act upon so wise and timely a suggestion, and seek safety in flight + from a place that Gian Maria would tear stone from stone. His words + pattered quickly and piteously in entreaty, till in the end, facing him + squarely: + </p> + <p> + “Are you afraid, Gonzaga?” she asked him. + </p> + <p> + “I am—afraid for you, Madonna,” he answered readily. + </p> + <p> + “Then let your fears have peace. For whether I stay or whether I go, one + thing is certain: Gian Maria never shall set hands upon me.” She turned + again to Francesco. “I see a certain wisdom in the counsel of flight you + would have offered me, no less than in what I take to be your advice that + I should remain. Did I but consult my humour I should stay and deliver + battle when this tyrant shows himself. But prudence, too, must be + consulted, and I will give the matter thought.” And now she thanked him + with a generous charm for having come to her with this news and proffered + his assistance, asking what motives brought him. + </p> + <p> + “Such motives as must ever impel a knight to serve a lady in distress,” + said he, “and perhaps, too, the memory of the charity with which you + tended my wounds that day at Acquasparta.” + </p> + <p> + For a second their glances met, quivered in the meeting, and fell apart + again, an odd confusion in the breast of each, all of which Gonzaga, sunk + in moody rumination, observed not. To lighten the awkward silence that was + fallen, she asked him how it had transpired so soon that it was to + Roccaleone she had fled. + </p> + <p> + “Do you not know?” he cried. “Has not Peppe told you?” + </p> + <p> + “I have had no speech with him. He but reached the castle, himself, late + last night, and I first saw him this morning when he came to announce your + presence.” + </p> + <p> + And then, before more could be said, there arose a din of shouting from + without. The door was pushed suddenly open, and Peppe darted into the + room. + </p> + <p> + “Your man, Ser Francesco,” he cried, his face white with excitement. “Come + quickly, or they will kill him.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. FORTEMANI DRINKS WATER + </h2> + <p> + The thing had begun with the lowering glances that Francesco had observed, + and had grown to gibes and insults after he had disappeared. But Lanciotto + had preserved an unruffled front, being a man schooled in the Count of + Aquila's service to silence and a wondrous patience. This insensibility + those hinds translated into cowardice, and emboldened by it—like the + mongrels that they were—their offensiveness grew more direct and + gradually more threatening. Lanciotto's patience was slowly oozing away, + and indeed, it was no longer anything but the fear of provoking his + master's anger that restrained him. At length one burly ruffian, who had + bidden him remove his head-piece in the company of gentlemen, and whose + request had been by Lanciotto as disregarded as the rest, advanced + menacingly towards him and caught him by the leg, as Ercole had caught his + master. Exasperated at that, Lanciotto had swung his leg free, and caught + the rash fellow a vicious kick in the face that had felled him, stunned + and bleeding. + </p> + <p> + The roar from the man's companions told Lanciotto what to expect. In an + instant they were upon him, clamouring for his blood. He sought to draw + his master's sword, which together with the Count's other armour was slung + across his saddle-bow; but before he could extricate it, he was seized by + a dozen hands, and cropped, fighting, from the saddle. On the ground they + overpowered him, and a mailed hand was set upon his mouth, crushing back + into his throat the cry for help he would have raised. + </p> + <p> + On the west side of the courtyard a fountain issuing from the wall had + once poured its water through a lion's head into a vast tank of moss-grown + granite. But it had been disused for some time, and the pipe in the lion's + mouth was dry. The tank, however, was more than half full of water, which, + during the late untenanting of the castle, had turned foul and stagnant. + To drown Lanciotto in this was the amiable suggestion that emanated from + Fortemani himself—a suggestion uproariously received by his knaves, + who set themselves to act upon it. They roughly dragged the bleeding and + frantically struggling Lanciotto across the yard and gained the border of + the tank, intending fully to sink him into it and hold him under, to drown + there like a rat. + </p> + <p> + But in that instant a something burst upon him like a bolt from out of + Heaven. In one or two, and presently in more, the cruel laughter turned to + sudden howls of pain as a lash of bullock-hide caught them about head and + face and shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Back there, you beasts, you animals, back!” roared a voice of thunder, + and back they went unquestioning before that pitiless lash, like the pack + of craven hounds they were. + </p> + <p> + It was Francesco, who, single-handed, and armed with no more than a whip, + was scattering them from about his maltreated servant, as the hawk + scatters a flight of noisy sparrows. And now between him and Lanciotto + there stood no more than the broad bulk of Ercole Fortemani, his back to + the Count; for, as yet, he had not realised the interruption. + </p> + <p> + Francesco dropped his whip, and setting one hand at the captain's girdle, + and the other at his dirty neck, he hoisted him up with a strength + incredible, and hurled him from his path and into the slimy water of the + tank. + </p> + <p> + There was a mighty roar drowned in a mightier splash as Fortemani, + spread-eagle, struck the surface and sank from sight, whilst with the + flying spray there came a fetid odour to tell of the unsavouriness of that + unexpected bath. + </p> + <p> + Without pausing to see the completion of his work, Francesco stooped over + his prostrate servant. + </p> + <p> + “Have the beasts hurt you, Lanciotto?” he questioned. But before the + fellow could reply, one of those hinds had sprung upon the stooping Count, + and struck him with a dagger between the shoulder-blades. + </p> + <p> + A woman's alarmed cry rang out, for Valentina was watching the affray from + the steps of the hall, with Gonzaga at her elbow. + </p> + <p> + But Francesco's quilted brigandine had stood the test of steel, and the + point of that assassin's dagger glanced harmlessly aside, doing no worse + hurt than a rent in the silk surface of the garment. A second later the + fellow found himself caught as in a bond of steel. The dagger was wrenched + from his grasp, and the point of it laid against his breast even as the + Count forced him down upon his knees. + </p> + <p> + In a flash was the thing done, yet to the wretched man who saw himself + upon the threshold of Eternity, and who—like a true son of the + Church—had a wholesome fear of hell, it seemed an hour whilst, with + livid cheeks and eyes starting from his head, he waited for that poniard + to sink into his heart, as it was aimed. But not in his heart did the blow + fall. With a sudden snort of angry amusement, the Count pitched the dagger + from him and brought down his clenched fist with a crushing force into the + ruffian's face. The fellow sank unconscious beneath that mighty blow, and + Francesco, regaining the whip that lay almost at his feet, rose up to + confront what others there might be. + </p> + <p> + From the tank, standing breast-deep in that stinking water, his head and + face grotesquely masked in a vile green slime of putrid vegetation, Ercole + Fortemani bellowed with horrid blasphemy that he would have his + aggressor's blood, but stirred never a foot to take it. Not that he was by + nature wholly a coward; but inspired by a wholesome fear of the man who + could perform such a miracle of strength, he remained out of Francesco's + reach, well in the middle of that square basin, and lustily roared orders + to his men to tear the fellow to pieces. But his men had seen enough of + the Count's methods, and made no advance upon that stalwart, dauntless + figure that stood waiting for them with a whip which several had already + tasted. Huddled together, more like a flock of frightened sheep than a + body of men of war, they stood near the entrance tower, the mock of Peppe, + who from the stone-gallery above—much to the amusement of + Valentina's ladies and two pert pages that were with him—applauded + in high-flown terms their wondrous valour. + </p> + <p> + They stirred at last, but it was at Valentina's bidding. She had been + conferring with Gonzaga, who—giving it for his reason that she, + herself, might need protection—had remained beside her, well out of + the fray. She had been urging him to do something, and at last he had + obeyed her, and moved down the short flight of steps into the court; but + so reluctantly and slowly, that with an exclamation of impatience, she + suddenly brushed past him, herself to do the task she had begged of him. + Past Francesco she went, with a word of such commendation of his valour + and a look of such deep admiration, that the blood sprang, responsive, to + his cheek. She paused with a solicitous inquiry for the now risen but + sorely bruised Lanciotto. She flashed an angry look and an angry command + of silence at the great Ercole, still bellowing from his tank, and then, + within ten paces of his followers, she halted, and with wrathful mien, and + hand outstretched towards their captain, she bade them arrest him. + </p> + <p> + That sudden, unexpected order struck dumb the vociferous Fortemani. He + ceased, and gaped at his men, who eyed one another now in doubt; but the + doubt was quickly dispelled by the lady's own words: + </p> + <p> + “You will make him prisoner, and conduct him to the guardroom, or I will + have you and him swept out of my castle,” she informed them, as + confidently as though she had a hundred men-at-arms to do her bidding on + them. + </p> + <p> + A pace or so behind her stood the lily-cheeked Gonzaga, gnawing his lip, + timid and conjecturing. Behind him again loomed the stalwart height of + Francesco del Falco with, at his side, Lanciotto, of mien almost as + resolute as his own. + </p> + <p> + That was the full force with which the lady spoke of sweeping them—as + if they had been so much foulness—from Roccaleone, unless they did + her bidding. They were still hesitating, when the Count advanced to + Valentina's side. + </p> + <p> + “You have heard the choice our lady gives you,” he said sternly. “Let us + know whether you will obey or disobey. This choice that is yours now, may + not be yours again. But if you elect to disobey Madonna, the gate is + behind you, the bridge still down. Get you gone!” + </p> + <p> + Furtively, from under lowering brows, Gonzaga darted a look of impotent + malice at the Count. Whatever issue had the affair, this man must not + remain in Roccaleone. He was too strong, too dominant, and he would render + himself master of the place by no other title than that strength of his + and that manner of command which Gonzaga accounted a coarse, swashbuckling + bully's gift, but would have given much to be possessed of. Of how strong + and dominant indeed he was never had Francesco offered a more signal + proof. Those men, bruised and maltreated by him, would beyond doubt have + massed together and made short work of one less dauntless but when a + mighty courage such as his goes hand-in-hand with the habit of command, + such hinds as they can never long withstand it. They grumbled something + among themselves, and one of them at last made answer: + </p> + <p> + “Noble sir, it is our captain that we are bidden to arrest.” + </p> + <p> + “True; but your captain, like yourselves, is in this lady's pay; and she, + your true, your paramount commander, bids you arrest him.” And now, whilst + yet they hesitated, his quick wits flung them the bait that must prove + most attractive. “He has shown himself to-day unfitted for the command + entrusted him and it may become a question, when he has been judged, of + choosing one of you to fill the place he may leave empty.” + </p> + <p> + Hinds were they in very truth; the scum of the bravi that haunted the + meanest borgo of Urbino. Their hesitation vanished, and such slight + loyalty as they felt towards Ercole was overruled by the prospect of his + position and his pay, should his disgrace become accomplished. + </p> + <p> + They called upon him to come forth from his refuge, where he still stood, + dumb and stricken at this sudden turn events had taken. He sullenly + refused to obey the call to yield, until Francesco—who now assumed + command with a readiness that galled Gonzaga more and more—bade one + of them go fetch an arquebuse and shoot the dog. At that he cried out for + mercy, and came wading to the edge of the tank swearing that if the + immersion had not drowned him, it were a miracle but he was poisoned. + </p> + <p> + Thus closed an incident that had worn a mighty ugly look, and it served to + open Valentina's eyes to the true quality of the men Gonzaga had hired + her. Maybe that it opened his own for that amiable lute-thrummer was green + of experience in these matters. She bade Gonzaga care for Francesco, and + called one of the grinning pages from the gallery to be his esquire. A + room was placed at his disposal for the little time that he might spend at + Roccaleone, whilst she debated what her course should be. + </p> + <p> + A bell tolled in the far southern wing of the castle, beyond the second + courtyard, and summoned her to chapel, for there Fra Domenico said Mass + each morning. And so she took her leave of Francesco, saying she would + pray Heaven to direct her to a wise choice, whether to fly from + Roccaleone, or whether to remain and ward off the onslaught of Gian Maria. + </p> + <p> + Francesco, attended by Gonzaga and the page, repaired to a handsome room + under the Lion's Tower, which rose upon the south-eastern angle of the + fortress. His windows overlooked the second, or inner, courtyard, across + which Valentina and her ladies were now speeding on their way to Mass. + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga made shift to stifle the resentment that he felt against this man, + in whom he saw an interloper, and strove to treat him with the courtesy + that was his due. He would even have gone the length of discussing with + him the situation—prompted by a certain mistrust, and cunningly + eager to probe the real motive that had brought this stranger to interest + himself in the affairs of Valentina. But Francesco, wearily, yet with an + unimpeachable politeness, staved him off, and requested that Lanciotto + might be sent to attend him. Seeing the futility of his endeavours, + Gonzaga withdrew in increased resentment, but with a heightened sweetness + of smile and profoundness of courtesies. + </p> + <p> + He went below to issue orders for the raising of the bridge, and finding + the men singularly meek and tractable after the sharp lesson Francesco had + read them, he vented upon them some of the vast ill-humour that possessed + him. Next he passed on to his own apartments, and there he sat himself by + a window overlooking the castle gardens, with his unpleasant thoughts for + only company. + </p> + <p> + But presently his mood lightened and he took courage, for he could be very + brave when peril was remote. It was best, he reflected, that Valentina + should leave Roccaleone. Such was the course he would advise and urge. + Naturally, he would go with her, and so he might advance his suit as well + elsewhere as in that castle. On the other hand, if she remained, why, so + would he, and, after all, what if Gian Maria came? As Francesco had said, + the siege could not be protracted, thanks to the tangled affairs of + Babbiano. Soon Gian Maria would be forced to turn him homeward, to defend + his Duchy. If, then, for a little while they could hold him in check, all + would yet be well. Surely he had been over-quick to despond. + </p> + <p> + He rose and stretched himself with indolent relish, then pushing wide his + casement, he leaned out to breathe the morning air. A soft laugh escaped + him. He had been a fool indeed to plague himself with fears when he had + first heard of Gian Maria's coming. Properly viewed, it became a service + Gian Maria did him—whether they remained, or whether they went. Love + has no stronger promoter than a danger shared, and a week of such + disturbances as Gian Maria was likely to occasion them should do more to + advance his suit than he might hope to achieve in a whole month of + peaceful wooing. Then the memory of Francesco set a wrinkle 'twixt his + brows, and he bethought him how taken Valentina had been with the fellow + when first she had beheld him at Acquasparta, and of how, as she rode that + day, she had seen naught but the dark eyes of this Knight Francesco. + </p> + <p> + “Knight Francesco of what or where?” he muttered to himself. “Bah! A + nameless, homeless adventurer; a swashbuckling bully, reeking of blood and + leather, and fit to drive such a pack as Fortemani's. But with a lady—what + shalt such an oaf attain, how shall he prevail?” He laughed the incipient + jealousy to scorn, and his brow grew clear, for now he was in an + optimistic mood—perhaps a reaction from his recent tremors. “Yet, by + the Host!” he pursued, bethinking him of the amazing boldness Francesco + had shown in the courtyard, “he has the strength of Hercules, and a way + with him that makes him feared and obeyed. Pish!” he laughed again, as, + turning, he unhooked his lute from where it hung upon the wall. “The + by-blow of some condottiero, who blends with his father's bullying + arrogance the peasant soul of his careless mother. And I fear that such a + one as that shall touch the heart of my peerless Valentina? Why, it is a + thought that does her but poor honour.” + </p> + <p> + And dismissing Francesco from his mind, he sought the strings with his + fingers, and thrummed an accompaniment as he returned to the window, his + voice, wondrous sweet and tender, breaking into a gentle love-song. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. THE MERCY OF FRANCESCO + </h2> + <p> + Monna Valentina and her ladies dined at noon in a small chamber opening + from the great hall, and thither were bidden Francesco and Gonzaga. The + company was waited upon by the two pages, whilst Fra Domenico, with a + snow-white apron girt about his portentous waist, brought up the steaming + viands from the kitchen where he had prepared them; for, like a true + conventual, he was something of a master in the confection—and a + very glutton in the consumption—of delectable comestibles. The + kitchen was to him as the shrine of some minor cult, and if his breviary + and beads commanded from him the half of the ecstatic fervour of his + devotions to pot and pan, to cauldron and to spit, then was canonisation + indeed assured him. + </p> + <p> + He set before them that day a dinner than which a better no prince + commanded, unless it were the Pope. There were ortolans, shot in the + valley, done with truffles, that made the epicurean Gonzaga roll his eyes, + translated through the medium of his palate into a very paradise of + sensual delight. There was a hare, trapped on the hillside, and stewed in + Malmsey, of a flavour so delicate that Gonzaga was regretting him his + heavy indulgence in the ortolans; there was trout, fresh caught in the + stream below, and a wondrous pasty that turned liquid in the mouth. To + wash down these good things there was stout red wine of Puglia and more + delicate Malvasia, for in his provisioning of the fortress Gonzaga had + contrived that, at least, they should not go thirsty. + </p> + <p> + “For a garrison awaiting siege you fare mighty well at Roccaleone,” was + Francesco's comment on that excellent repast. + </p> + <p> + It was the fool who answered him. He sat out of sight upon the floor, + hunched against the chair of one of Valentina's ladies, who now and again + would toss him down a morsel from her plate, much as she might have + treated a favourite hound. + </p> + <p> + “You have the friar to thank for it,” said he, in a muffled voice, for his + mouth was crammed with pasty. “Let me be damned when I die, if I make him + not my confessor. The man who can so minister to bodies should deal + amazingly well with souls. Fra Domenico, you shall confess me after + sunset.” + </p> + <p> + “You need me not,” answered the monk, in disdainful wrath. “There is a + beatitude for such as you—'Blessed are the poor in spirit.'” + </p> + <p> + “And is there no curse for such as you?” flashed back the fool. “Does it + say nowhere—'Damned are the gross of flesh, the fat and rotund + gluttons who fashion themselves a god of their own bellies'?” + </p> + <p> + With his sandalled foot the friar caught the fool a surreptitious kick. + </p> + <p> + “Be still, you adder, you bag of venom.” + </p> + <p> + Fearing worse, the fool gathered himself up. + </p> + <p> + “Beware!” he cried shrilly. “Bethink you, friar, that anger is a cardinal + sin. Beware, I say!” + </p> + <p> + Fra Domenico checked his upraised hand, and fell to muttering scraps of + Latin, his lids veiling his suddenly downÂcast eyes. Thus Peppe gained the + door. + </p> + <p> + “Say, friar; in my ear, now—Was that a hare you stewed, or an + outworn sandal?” + </p> + <p> + “Now, God forgive me,” roared the monk, springing towards him. + </p> + <p> + “For your cooking? Aye, pray—on your knees.” He dodged a blow, + ducked, and doubled back into the room. “A cook, you? Pish! you tun of + convent lard! Your ortolans were burnt, your trout swam in grease, your + pasty——” + </p> + <p> + What the pasty may have been the company was not to learn, for Fra + Domenico, crimson of face, had swooped down upon the fool, and would have + caught him but that he dived under the table by Valentina's skirts, and + craved her protection from this gross maniac that held himself a cook. + </p> + <p> + “Now, hold your wrath, father,” she said, laughing with the rest. “He does + but plague you. Bear with him for the sake of that beautitude you cited, + which has fired him to reprisals.” + </p> + <p> + Mollified, but still grumbling threats of a beating to be bestowed on + Peppe when the opportunity should better serve him, the friar turned to + his domestic duties. They rose soon after, and at Gonzaga's suggestion + Valentina paused in the great hall to issue orders that Fortemani be + brought before her for judgment. In a score of ways, since their coming to + Roccaleone, had Ercole been wanting in that respect to which Gonzaga held + himself entitled, and this opportunity he seized with eagerness to vent + his vindictive rancour. + </p> + <p> + Valentina begged of Francesco that he, too, would stay, and help them with + his wide experience, a phrase that sent an unpleasant pang through the + heart of Romeo Gonzaga. It was perhaps as much to assert himself as to + gratify his rancour against Fortemani, that, having despatched a soldier + to fetch the prisoner, he turned to suggest curtly that Ercole should be + hanged at once. + </p> + <p> + “What boots a trial?” he demanded. “We were all witnesses of his + insubordination, and for that there can be but one punishment. Let the + animal hang!” + </p> + <p> + “But the trial is of your own suggestion,” she protested. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, Madonna. I but suggested judgment. It is since you have begged + Messer Francesco, here, to assist us that I opine you mean to give the + knave a trial.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you credit this dear Gonzaga with so much bloodthirstiness?” she + asked Francesco. “Do you, sir, share his opinion that the captain should + hang unheard? I fear me you do, for, from what I have seen of them, your + ways do not incline to gentleness.” + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga smiled, gathering from that sentence how truly she apprised the + coarse nature of this stranger. Francesco's answer surprised them. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, I hold Messer Gonzaga's an ill counsel. Show mercy to Fortemani now, + where he expects none, and you will have made a faithful servant of him. I + know his kind.” + </p> + <p> + “Ser Francesco speaks without the knowledge that we have, Madonna,” was + Gonzaga's rude comment. “An example must be made if we would have respect + and orderliness from these men.” + </p> + <p> + “Then make it an example of mercy,” suggested Francesco sweetly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, we shall see,” was Valentina's answer. “I like your counsel, Messer + Francesco, and yet I see a certain wisdom in Gonzaga's words. Though in + such a case as this I would sooner consort with folly than have a man's + death upon my conscience. But here he comes, and, at least, we'll give him + trial. Maybe he is penitent by now.” + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga sneered, and took his place on the right of Valentina's chair, + Francesco standing on her left; and in this fashion they disposed + themselves to hold judgment upon the captain of her forces. + </p> + <p> + He was brought in between two mailed men-at-arms, his hands pinioned + behind him, his tread heavy as that of a man in fear, his eyes directed + sullenly upon the waiting trio, but sullenest of all upon Francesco, who + had so signally encompassed his discomfiture. Valentina spread a hand to + Gonzaga, and from Gonzaga waved it slightly in the direction of the Bully. + Responsive to that gesture, Gonzaga faced the pinioned captain + truculently. + </p> + <p> + “You know your offence, knave,” he bawled at him. “Have you aught to urge + that may deter us from hanging you?” + </p> + <p> + Fortemani raised his brows a moment in surprise at this ferocity from one + whom he had always deemed a very woman. Then he uttered a laugh of such + contempt that the colour sprang to Gonzaga's cheek. + </p> + <p> + “Take him out——” he began furiously, when Valentina + interposed, setting a hand upon his arm. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, nay, Gonzaga, your methods are all wrong. Tell him—— + Nay, I will question him myself. Messer Fortemani, you have been guilty of + an act of gross abuse. You and your men were hired for me by Messer + Gonzaga, and to you was given the honourable office of captain over them, + that you might lead them in this service of mine in the ways of duty, + submission, and loyalty. Instead of that, you were the instigator of that + outrage this morning, when murder was almost done upon an inoffensive man + who was my guest. What have you to say?” + </p> + <p> + “That I was not the instigator,” he answered sullenly. + </p> + <p> + “It is all one,” she returned, “for at least it was done with your + sanction, and you took a share in that cruel sport, instead of restraining + it, as was clearly your duty. It is upon you, the captain, that the + responsibility rests.” + </p> + <p> + “Lady,” he explained, “they are wild souls, but very true.” + </p> + <p> + “True to their wildness, maybe,” she answered him disdainfully. Then she + proceeded: “You will remember that twice before has Messer Gonzaga had + occasion to admonish you. These last two nights your men have behaved + riotously within my walls. There has been hard drinking, there has been + dicing, and such brawling once or twice as led me to think there would be + throats cut among your ranks. You were warned by Messer Gonzaga to hold + your followers in better leash, and yet to-day, without so much as + drunkenness to excuse them, we have this vile affair, with yourself for a + ringleader in it.” + </p> + <p> + There followed a pause, during which Ercole stood with bent head like one + who thinks, and Francesco turned his wonder-laden glance upon this slight + girl with the gentle brown eyes which had been so tender and pitiful. + Marvelling at the greatness of her spirit, he grew—all unconsciously—the + more enslaved. + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga, all unconcerned in this, eyed Fortemani in expectation of his + answer. + </p> + <p> + “Madonna,” said the bully at last, “what can you look for from such a + troop as this? Messer Gonzaga cannot have expected me to enlist acolytes + for a business that he told me bordered upon outlawry. Touching their + drunkenness and the trifle of rioting, what soldiers have not these + faults? When they have them not, neither have they merit. The man that is + tame in times of peace is a skulking woman in times of war. For the rest, + whence came the wine they drank? It was of Messer Gonzaga's providing.” + </p> + <p> + “You lie, hound!” blazed Gonzaga. “I provided wine for Madonna's table, + not for the men.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet some found its way to them; which is well. For water on the stomach + makes a man poor-spirited. Where is the sin of a little indulgence, + Madonna?” he went on, turning again to Valentina. “These men of mine will + prove their mettle when it comes to blows. They are dogs perhaps—but + mastiffs every one of them, and would lose a hundred lives in your service + if they had them.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, if they had them,” put in Gonzaga sourly; “but having no more than + one apiece, they'll not care to spare it.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, there you wrong them,” cried Fortemani, with heat. “Give them a + leader strong enough to hold them, to encourage and subject them, and they + will go anywhere at his bidding.” + </p> + <p> + “And there,” put in Gonzaga quickly, “you bring us back to the main issue. + Such a leader you have shown us that you are not. You have done worse. You + have been insubordinate when you should not only have been orderly, but + have enforced orderliness in others. And for that, by my lights, you + should be hanged. Waste no more time on him, Madonna,” he concluded, + turning to Valentina. “Let the example be made.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Madonna——” began Fortemani, paling under the tan of his + rugged countenance. + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga silenced him. + </p> + <p> + “Your words are vain. You have been insubordinate, and for insubordination + there is but one penalty.” + </p> + <p> + The bully hung his head, deeming himself lost, and lacking the wit to + retort as Francesco unexpectedly retorted for him. + </p> + <p> + “Madonna, there your adviser is at fault. The charge against the man is + wrong. There has been no insubordination.” + </p> + <p> + “How?” she questioned, turning to the Count. “None, say you?” + </p> + <p> + “A Solomon is arisen,” sneered Gonzaga. Then peevishly; “Waste not words + with him, Madonna,” he pursued. “Our business is with Fortemani.” + </p> + <p> + “But stay, my good Gonzaga. He may be right.” + </p> + <p> + “Your heart is over-tender,” answered Romeo impatiently. But she had + turned from him now, and was begging Francesco to make his meaning + clearer. + </p> + <p> + “Had he raised his hand against you, Madonna, or even against Messer + Gonzaga, or had he disobeyed an order given him by either of you, then, + and then only, could there be question of insubordination. But he has done + none of these things. He is guilty of grossly misusing my servant, it is + true, but there is no insubordination in that, since he was under no + promise of loyalty to Lanciotto.” + </p> + <p> + They stared at him as though his words were words of recondite wisdom + instead of the simple statement of a plain case. Gonzaga crestfallen, + Fortemani with a light of hope and wonder shining in his eyes, and Madonna + with a faint nodding of the head that argued agreement. They wrangled a + while yet, Gonzaga bitter and vindictive and rashly scornful of both + Francesco and Fortemani. But the Count so resolutely held the ground he + had taken that in the end Valentina shrugged her shoulders, acknowledged + herself convinced, and bade Francesco deliver judgment. + </p> + <p> + “You are in earnest, Madonna?” quoth Francesco in surprise, whilst a black + scowl disfigured the serenity of Gonzaga's brow. + </p> + <p> + “I am indeed. Deal with him as you account best and most just, and it + shall fare with him precisely as you ordain.” + </p> + <p> + Francesco turned to the men-at-arms. “Unbind him, one of you,” he said + shortly. + </p> + <p> + “I believe that you are mad,” cried Gonzaga, in a frenzy, but his mood + sprang rather from the chagrin of seeing his interloper prevail where he + had failed. “Madonna, do not heed him.” + </p> + <p> + “I pray you let be, my good Gonzaga,” she answered soothingly, and + Gonzaga, ready to faint from spite, obeyed her. + </p> + <p> + “Leave him there, and go,” was Paolo's next order to the men, and they + departed, leaving the astonished Fortemani standing alone, unbound and + sheepish. + </p> + <p> + “Now mark me well, Messer Fortemani,” Francesco admonished him. “You did a + cowardly thing, unworthy of the soldier that you would have men believe + you. And for that, I think, the punishment you received at my hands has + been sufficient, in that the indignity to which I submitted you has shaken + your standing with your followers. Go back to them now and retrieve what + you have lost, and see that in the future you are worthier. Let this be a + lesson to you, Messer Fortemani. You have gone perilously near hanging, + and you have had it proved to you that in moments of peril your men are + ready to raise their hands against you. Why is that? Because you have not + sought their respect. You have been too much a fellow of theirs in their + drinking and their brawling, instead of holding yourself aloof with + dignity.” + </p> + <p> + “Lord, I have learnt my lesson!” answered the cowed bully. + </p> + <p> + “Then act upon it. Resume your command, and discipline your men to a + better order. Madonna, here, and Messer Gonzaga will forget this thing. Is + it not so, Madonna? Is it not so, Messer Gonzaga?” + </p> + <p> + Swayed by his will and by an intuition that told her that to whatever end + he might be working, he was working wisely, Valentina gave Fortemani the + assurance Francesco begged, and Gonzaga was forced grudgingly to follow + her example. + </p> + <p> + Fortemani bowed low, his face pale and his limbs trembling as not even + fear had made them tremble. He advanced towards Valentina, and sinking on + one knee, he humbly kissed the hem of her gown. + </p> + <p> + “Your clemency, Madonna, shall give you no regret. I will serve you to the + death, lady, and you, lord.” At the last words he raised his eyes to + Francesco's calm face. Then, without so much as a glance at the + disappointed Gonzaga, he rose, and bowing again—a very courtier—he + withdrew. + </p> + <p> + The closing of the door was to Gonzaga a signal to break out in a torrent + of bitter reproofs against Francesco, reproofs that were stemmed midway by + Valentina. + </p> + <p> + “You are beside yourself, Gonzaga,” she exclaimed. “What has been done, + has been done with my sanction. I do not doubt the wisdom of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you not? God send you never may! But that man will know no peace until + he is avenged on us.” + </p> + <p> + “Messer Gonzaga,” returned Francesco, with an incomparable politeness, “I + am an older man than are you, and maybe that I have seen more warring and + more of such men. There is a certain valour lurks in that bully for all + his blustering boastfulness and swagger, and there is, too, a certain + sense of justice. Mercy he has had to-day, and time will show how right I + am in having pardoned him in Madonna's name. I tell you, sir, that nowhere + has Monna Valentina a more faithful servant than he is now likely to + become.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe you, Messer Francesco. Indeed, I am sure your act was wisdom + itself.” + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga gnawed his lip. + </p> + <p> + “I may be wrong,” said he, in grudging acquiescence. “I hope, indeed, I + may be.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI. GONZAGA UNMASKS + </h2> + <p> + The four great outer walls of Roccaleone stood ranged into a mighty + square, of which the castle proper occupied but half. The other half, + running from north to south, was a stretch of garden, broken into three + terraces. The highest of these was no more than a narrow alley under the + southern wall, roofed from end to end by a trellis of vines on beams + blackened with age, supported by uprights of granite, square and roughly + hewn. + </p> + <p> + A steep flight of granite steps, weedy in the interstices of the old + stone, and terminating in a pair of couchant lions at the base, led down + to the middle terrace, which was called the upper garden. This was split + in twain by a very gallery of gigantic box trees running down towards the + lower terrace, and bearing eloquent witness to the age of that old garden. + Into this gallery no sun ever penetrated by more than a furtive ray, and + on the hottest day in summer a grateful cool dwelt in its green gloom. + Rose gardens spread on either side of it, but neglect of late had left + them rank with weeds. + </p> + <p> + The third and lowest of these terraces, which was longer and broader than + either of those above, was no more than a smooth stretch of lawn, bordered + by acacias and plane trees, from the extreme corner of which sprang a + winding, iron-railed staircase of stone, leading to an eerie which + corresponded diagonally with the Lion's Tower, where the Count of Aquila + was lodged. + </p> + <p> + On this green lawn Valentina's ladies and a page beguiled the eventide in + a game of bowls, their clumsiness at the unwonted pastime provoking the + good-humoured banter of Peppe, who looked on, and their own still + better-humoured laughter. + </p> + <p> + Fortemani, too, was there, brazening out the morning's affair, which it + almost seemed he must have forgotten, so self-possessed and mightily at + his ease was he. He was of the kind with whom shame strikes never very + deeply, and he ruffled it gaily there, among the women, rolling his fierce + eyes to ogle them seductively, tossing his gaudy new cloak with a + high-born disdain—gloriously conscious that it would not rend in the + tossing, like the cloaks to which grim Circumstance had lately accustomed + him—and strutting it like any cock upon a dunghill. + </p> + <p> + But the lesson he had learnt was not likely to share the same + forgetfulness. Indeed, its fruits were to be observed already in the more + orderly conduct of his men, four of whom, partisan on shoulder, were doing + duty on the walls of the castle. They had greeted his return amongst them + with sneers and derisive allusions to his immersion, but with a few + choicely-aimed blows he had cuffed the noisiest into silence and a more + subservient humour. He had spoken to them in a rasping, truculent tone, + issuing orders that he meant should be obeyed, unless the disobeyer were + eager for a reckoning with him. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, he was an altered man, and when that night his followers, having + drunk what he accounted enough for their good, and disregarding his orders + that they should desist and get them to bed, he went in quest of Monna + Valentina. He found her in conversation with Francesco and Gonzaga, seated + in the loggia of the dining-room. They had been there since supper, + discussing the wisdom of going or remaining, of fleeing or standing firm + to receive Gian Maria. Their conference was interrupted now by Ercole with + his complaint. + </p> + <p> + She despatched Gonzaga to quell the men, a course that Fortemani treated + to a covert sneer. The fop went rejoicing at this proof that her estimate + of his commanding qualities had nowise suffered by contrast with those of + that swashbuckling Francesco. But his pride rode him to a bitter fall. + </p> + <p> + They made a mock of his remonstrances, and when he emulated Francesco's + methods, addressing them with sharp ferocity, and dubbing them beasts and + swine, they caught the false ring of his fierceness, which was as unlike + the true as the ring of lead is unlike that of silver. They jeered him + insults, they mimicked his tenor voice, which excitement had rendered + shrill, and they bade him go thrum a lute for his lady's delectation, and + leave men's work to men. + </p> + <p> + His anger rose, and they lost patience; and from showing their teeth in + laughter, they began to show them in snarls. At this his ferocity deserted + him. Brushing past Fortemani, who stood cold and contemptuous by the + doorway, watching the failure he had expected, he returned with burning + cheeks and bitter words to Madonna Valentina. + </p> + <p> + She was dismayed at the tale he bore her, magnified to cover his own + shame. Francesco sat quietly drumming on the sill, his eyes upon the + moonlit garden below, and never by word or sign suggesting that he might + succeed where Romeo had failed. At last she turned to him. + </p> + <p> + “Could you——?” she began, and stopped, her eyes wandering back + to Gonzaga, loath to further wound a pride that was very sore already. On + the instant Francesco rose. + </p> + <p> + “I might try, Madonna,” he said quietly, “although Messer Gonzaga's + failure gives me little hope. And yet, it may be that he has taken the + keen edge from their assurance, and that, thus, an easier task awaits me. + I will try, Madonna.” And with that he went. + </p> + <p> + “He will succeed, Gonzaga,” she said, after he had gone. “He is a man of + war, and knows the words to which these fellows have no answer.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish him well of his errand,” sneered Gonzaga, his pretty face white + now with sullenness. “And I'll wager you he fails.” + </p> + <p> + But Valentina disdained the offer whose rashness was more than proven + when, at the end of some ten minutes, Francesco re-entered, as + imperturbable as when he went. + </p> + <p> + “They are quiet now, Madonna,” he announced. + </p> + <p> + She looked at him questioningly. “How did you accomplish it?” she + inquired. + </p> + <p> + “I had a little difficulty,” he said, “yet not over-much.” His eye roved + to Gonzaga, and he smiled. “Messer Gonzaga is too gentle with them. Too + true a courtier to avail himself of the brutality that is necessary when + we deal with brutes. You should not disdain to use your hands upon them,” + he admonished the fop in all seriousness, and without a trace of irony. + Nor did Gonzaga suspect any. + </p> + <p> + “I, soil my hands on that vermin?” he cried, in a voice of horror. “I + would die sooner.” + </p> + <p> + “Or else soon after,” squeaked Peppe, who had entered unobserved. “Patrona + mia, you should have seen this paladin,” he continued, coming forward. + “Why, Orlando was never half so furious as he when he stood there telling + them what manner of dirt they were, and bidding them to bed ere he drove + them with a broomstick.” + </p> + <p> + “And they went?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Not at first,” said the fool. “They had drunk enough to make them very + brave, and one who was very drunk was so brave as to assault him. But Ser + Francesco fells him with his hands, and calling Fortemani he bids him have + the man dropped in a dungeon to grow sober. Then, without waiting so much + as to see his orders carried out, he stalks away, assured that no more was + needed. Nor was it. They rose up, muttering a curse or two, maybe—yet + not so loud that it might reach the ears of Fortemani—and got + themselves to bed.” + </p> + <p> + She looked again at Francesco with admiring eyes, and spoke of his + audacity in commending terms. This he belittled; but she persisted. + </p> + <p> + “You have seen much warring, sir,” she half-asked, halfÂasserted. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, Madonna.” + </p> + <p> + And here the writhing Gonzaga espied his opportunity. + </p> + <p> + “I do not call to mind your name, good sir,” he purred. + </p> + <p> + Francesco half-turned towards him, and for all that his mind was working + with a lightning quickness, his face was indolently calm. To disclose his + true identity he deemed unwise, for all connected with the Sforza brood + must earn mistrust at the hands of Valentina. It was known that the Count + of Aquila stood high in the favour of Gian Maria, and the news of his + sudden fall and banishment could not have reached Guidobaldo's niece, who + had fled before the knowledge of it was in Urbino. His name would awaken + suspicion, and any story of disgrace and banishment might be accounted the + very mask to fit a spy. There was this sleek, venomous Gonzaga, whom she + trusted and relied on, to whisper insidiously into her ear. + </p> + <p> + “My name,” he said serenely, “is, as I have told you. Francesco.” + </p> + <p> + “But you have another?” quoth Valentina, interest prompting the question. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, but so closely allied to the first as to be scarce worth + reciting. I am Francesco Franceschi, a wandering knight.” + </p> + <p> + “And a true one, as I know.” She smiled at him so sweetly that Gonzaga was + enraged. + </p> + <p> + “I have not heard the name before,” he murmured, adding: + </p> + <p> + “Your father was——?” + </p> + <p> + “A gentleman of Tuscany.” + </p> + <p> + “But not at Court?” suggested Romeo. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, at Court.” + </p> + <p> + Then with a sly insolence that brought the blood to Francesco's cheeks, + though to the chaste mind of Valentina's it meant nothing—“Ah!” he + rejoined. “But then, your mother——?” + </p> + <p> + “Was more discriminating, sir, than yours,” came the sharp answer, and + from the shadows the fool's smothered burst of laughter added gall to it. + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga rose heavily, drawing a sharp breath, and the two men stabbed each + other with their eyes. Valentina, uncomprehending, looked from one to the + other. + </p> + <p> + “Sirs, sirs, what have you said?” she cried. “Why all this war of looks?” + </p> + <p> + “He is over-quick to take offence, Madonna, for an honest man,” was + Gonzaga's answer. “Like the snake in the grass, he is very ready with his + sting when we seek to disclose him.” + </p> + <p> + “For shame, Gonzaga,” she cried, now rising too. “What are you saying? Are + you turned witless? Come, sirs, since you are both my friends, be friends + each with the other.” + </p> + <p> + “Most perfect syllogism!” murmured the fool, unheeded. + </p> + <p> + “And you, Messer Francesco, forget his words. He means them not. He is + very hot of fancy, but sweet at heart, this good Gonzaga.” + </p> + <p> + On the instant the cloud lifted from Francesco's brow. + </p> + <p> + “Why, since you ask me,” he answered, inclining his head, “if he'll but + say he meant no malice by his words, I will confess as much for mine.” + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga, cooling, saw that haply he had gone too fast, and was the readier + to make amends. Yet in his bosom he nursed an added store of poison, a + breath of which escaped him as he was leaving Valentina, and after + Francesco had already gone: + </p> + <p> + “Madonna,” he muttered, “I mistrust that man.” + </p> + <p> + “Mistrust him? Why?” she asked, frowning despite her faith in the + magnificent Romeo. + </p> + <p> + “I know not why; but it is here. I feel it.” And with his hand he touched + the region of his heart. “Say that he is no spy, and call me a fool.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I'll do both,” she laughed. Then more sternly, added: “Get you to + bed, Gonzaga. Your wits play you false. Peppino, call my ladies.” + </p> + <p> + In the moment that they were left alone he stepped close up to her, + spurred to madness by the jealous pangs he had that day endured. His face + gleamed white in the candlelight, and in his eyes there was a lurking + fierceness that gave her pause. + </p> + <p> + “Have your way, Madonna,” he said, in a concentrated voice; “but + to-morrow, whether we go hence, or whether we stay, he remains not with + us.” + </p> + <p> + She drew herself up to the full of her slender, graceful height, her eyes + on a level with Gonzaga's own. + </p> + <p> + “That,” she answered, “is as shall be decreed by me or him.” + </p> + <p> + He breathed sharply, and his voice hardened beyond belief in one usually + so gentle of tone and manner. + </p> + <p> + “Be warned, Madonna,” he muttered, coming so close that with the slightest + swaying she must touch him, “that if this nameless sbirro shall ever dare + to stand 'twixt you and me, by God and His saints, I'll kill him! Be + warned, I say.” + </p> + <p> + And the door re-opening at that moment, he fell back, bowed, and brushing + past the entering ladies, gained the threshold. Here someone tugged at the + prodigious foliated sleeves that spread beside him on the air like the + wings of a bird. He turned, and saw Peppino motioning him to lower his + head. + </p> + <p> + “A word in your ear, Magnificent. There was a man once went out for wool + that came back shorn.” + </p> + <p> + Angrily cuffing the fool aside, he was gone. + </p> + <p> + Valentina sank down upon her window-seat, in a turmoil of mingled anger + and amazement that paled her cheek and set her bosom heaving. It was the + first hint of his aims respecting her that Gonzaga had ever dared let + fall, and the condition in which it left her boded ill for his ultimate + success. Her anger he could have borne, had he beheld it, for he would + have laid it to the score of the tone he had taken with her. But her + incredulity that he could indeed have dared to mean that which her senses + told her he had meant, would have shown him how hopeless was his case and + how affronted, how outraged in soul she had been left by this moment of + passionate self-revealing. He would have understood then that in her eyes + he never had been, was never like to be, aught but a servant—and + one, hereafter, that, deeming presumptuous, she would keep at greater + distance. + </p> + <p> + But he, dreaming little of this as he paced his chamber, smiled at his + thoughts, which flowed with ready optimism. He had been a fool to give way + so soon, perhaps. The season was not yet; the fruit was not ripe enough + for plucking; still, what should it signify that he had given the tree a + slight premonitory shake? A little premature, perhaps, but it would + predispose the fruit to fall. He bethought him of her never-varying + kindness to him, her fond gentleness, and he lacked the wit to see that + this was no more than the natural sweetness that flowed from her as freely + as flows the perfume from the flower—because Nature has so fashioned + it, and not because Messer Gonzaga likes the smell. Lacking that wit, he + went in blissful confidence to bed, and smiled himself softly to his + sleep. + </p> + <p> + Away in the room under the Lion's Tower, the Count of Aquila, too, paced + his chamber ere he sought his couch, and in his pacing caught sight of + something that arrested his attention, and provoked a smile. In a corner, + among his harness which Lanciotto had piled there, his shield threw back + the light, displaying the Sforza lion quartered with the Aquila eagle. + </p> + <p> + “Did my sweet Gonzaga get a glimpse of that he would have no further need + to pry into my parentage,” he mused. And dragging the escutcheon from + amongst that heap of armour, he softly opened his window and flung it far + out, so that it dropped with a splash into the moat. That done, he went to + bed, and he, too, fell asleep with a smile upon his lips, and in his mind + a floating vision of Valentina. She needed a strong and ready hand to + guide her in this rebellion against the love-at-arms of Gian Maria, and + that hand he swore should be his, unless she scorned the offer of it. And + so, murmuring her name with a lingering fervour, of whose true + significance he was all-nescient, he sank to sleep, nor waked again until + a thundering at his door aroused him. And to his still dormant senses came + the voice of Lanciotto, laden with hurry and alarm. + </p> + <p> + “Awake, lord! Up, afoot! We are beset.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII. THE ENEMY + </h2> + <p> + The Count leapt from his bed, and hastened to throw wide the door to admit + his servant, who with excited face and voice bore him the news that Gian + Maria had reached Roccaleone in the night, and was now encamped in the + plain before the castle. + </p> + <p> + He was still at his tale when a page came with the message that Monna + Valentina besought Messer Francesco's presence in the great hall. He + dressed in all haste, and then, with Lanciotto at his heels, he descended + to answer her summons. As he crossed the second courtyard he beheld + Valentina's ladies grouped upon the chapel-steps in excited discussion of + this happening with Fra Domenico, who, in full canonicals, was waiting to + say the morning's Mass. He gave them a courteous “Good morrow,” and passed + on to the banqueting-hall, leaving Lanciotto without. + </p> + <p> + Here he found Valentina in conference with Fortemani. She was pacing the + great room as she talked; but, beyond that, there was no sign of + excitement in her bearing, and if any fear of the issue touched her heart + now that the moment for action was at hand, it was wondrously + well-suppressed. At sight of Francesco, a look that was partly dismay and + partly pleasure lighted her face. She greeted him with such a smile as she + would bestow in that hour upon none but a trusted friend. Then, with a + look of regret: + </p> + <p> + “I am beyond measure grieved, sir, that you should thus stand committed to + my fortunes. They will have told you that already we are besieged, and so + you will see how your fate is now bound up with ours. For I fear me there + is no road hence for you until Gian Maria raises this siege. The choice of + going or remaining is no longer mine. We must remain, and fight this + battle out.” + </p> + <p> + “At least, lady,” he answered readily, gaily almost, “I cannot share your + regrets for me. The act of yours may be a madness, Madonna, but it is the + bravest, sweetest madness that ever was, and I shall be proud to play my + part if you'll assign me one.” + </p> + <p> + “But, sir, I have no claim upon you!” + </p> + <p> + “The claim that every beset lady has upon a true knight,” he assured her. + “I could ask no better employment for these arms of mine than in your + defence against the Duke of Babbiano. I am at your service, and with a + glad heart, Monna Valentina. I have seen something of war, and you may + find me useful.” + </p> + <p> + “Make him Provost of Roccaleone, Madonna,” urged Fortemani, whose + gratitude to the man who had saved his life was blent with an admiring + appreciation of his powers, of which the bully had had such practical + experience. + </p> + <p> + “You hear what Ercole says?” she cried, turning to Francesco with a sudden + eagerness that showed how welcome that suggestion was. + </p> + <p> + “It were too great an honour,” he answered solemnly. “Yet, if you were to + place in my hands that trust, I would defend it to my last breath.” + </p> + <p> + And then, before she could answer him, Gonzaga entered by the side-door, + and frowned to see Francesco there before him. He was a trifle pale, he + carried his cloak on the right shoulder, instead of the left, and in + general his apparel was less meticulous than usual, and showed signs of + hasty donning. With a curt nod to the Count, and an utter ignoring of + Fortemani—who was scowling upon him in memory of yesterday—he + bowed low before Valentina. + </p> + <p> + “I am distraught, Madonna——” he began, when she cut him short. + </p> + <p> + “You have little cause to be. Have things fallen out other than we + expected?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps not. Yet I had hoped that Gian Maria would not allow his humour + to carry him so far.” + </p> + <p> + “You had hoped that—after the message Messer Francesco brought us?” + And she looked him over with an eye of sudden understanding. “Yet you + expressed no such hope when you advised this flight to Roccaleone. You + were all for fighting then. A martial ardour consumed you. Whence this + change? Is it the imminence of danger that gives it a reality too grim for + your appetite?” + </p> + <p> + There was a scorn in her words that wounded him as she meant it should. + His last night's rashness had shown her the need to leave him in no false + opinion of the extent of her esteem, and, in addition, those last words of + his had shown him revealed in a new light, and she liked him the less by + it. + </p> + <p> + He inclined his head slightly, shame blazing red in his cheeks, that he + should be thus reproved before Fortemani and that upstart Francesco. That + Francesco was an upstart was no longer a matter of surmise with him. His + soul assured him of it. + </p> + <p> + “Madonna,” he said, with some show of dignity, ignoring her gibes, “I came + to bear you news that a herald from Gian Maria craves a hearing. Shall I + hold parley with him for you?” + </p> + <p> + “You are too good,” she answered sweetly. “I will hear the man myself.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed submissively, and then his eye moved to Francesco. + </p> + <p> + “We might arrange with him for the safe-conduct of this gentleman,” he + suggested. + </p> + <p> + “There is no hope they would accord it,” she answered easily. “Nor could I + hope so if they would, for Messer Francesco has consented to fill the + office of Provost of Roccaleone. But we are keeping the messenger waiting. + Sirs, will you attend me to the ramparts?” + </p> + <p> + They bowed, and followed her, Gonzaga coming last, his tread heavy as a + drunkard's, his face white to the lips in the bitter rage with which he + saw himself superseded, and read his answer to the hot words that last + night he had whispered in Valentina's ear. + </p> + <p> + As they crossed the courtyard Francesco discharged the first act of his + new office in ordering a half-dozen men-at-arms to fall in behind them, to + the end that they might make some show upon the wall when they came to + parley with the herald. + </p> + <p> + They found a tall man on a tall, grey horse, whose polished helm shone + like silver in the morning sun, and whose haubergeon was almost hidden + under a crimson tabard ornamented with the Sforza lion. He bowed low as + Valentina appeared, followed by her escort, foremost in which stood the + Count of Aquila, his broad castor pulled down upon his brow, so that it + left his face in shadow. + </p> + <p> + “In the name of my master, the High and Mighty Lord Gian Maria Sforza, + Duke of Babbiano, I call upon you to yield, lady, laying down your arms + and throwing open your gates.” + </p> + <p> + There followed a pause, at the end of which she asked him was that the sum + of his message, or was there something that he had forgotten. The herald, + bowing gracefully upon the arched neck of his caracoling palfrey, answered + her that what he had said was all he had been bidden say. + </p> + <p> + She turned with a bewildered and rather helpless look to those behind her. + She wished that the matter might be conducted with due dignity, and her + convent rearing left her in doubt of how this might best be achieved. She + addressed herself to Francesco. + </p> + <p> + “Will you give him his answer, my Lord Provost,” she said, with a smile, + and Francesco, stepping forward and leaning on a merlon of that embattled + wall, obeyed her. + </p> + <p> + “Sir Herald,” he said, in a gruff voice that was unlike his own, “will you + tell me since when has the Duke of Babbiano been at war with Urbino that + he should thus beset one of its fortresses, and demand the surrender of + it?” + </p> + <p> + “His Highness,” replied the herald, “is acting with the full sanction of + the Duke of Urbino in sending this message to the Lady Valentina della + Rovere.” + </p> + <p> + At that Valentina elbowed the Count aside, and forgetting her purpose of + conducting this affair with dignity, she let her woman's tongue deliver + the answer of her heart. + </p> + <p> + “This message, sir, and the presence here of your master, is but another + of the impertinences that I have suffered at his hands, and it is the + crowning one. Take you that message back to him, and tell him that when I + am instructed by what right he dares to send you upon such an errand, I + may render him an answer more germane with his challenge.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you prefer, Madonna, that his Highness should come himself to speak + with you?” + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing I should prefer less. Already has necessity compelled me + to have more to say to Gian Maria than I could have wished.” And with a + proud gesture she signified that the audience was at an end, and turned to + quit the wall. + </p> + <p> + She had a brief conference with Francesco, during which he consulted her + as to certain measures of defence to be taken, and made suggestions, to + all of which she agreed, her hopes rising fast to see that here, at least, + she had a man with knowledge of the work to which he had set his hand. It + lightened her heart and gave her a glad confidence to look on that + straight, martial figure, the hand so familiarly resting on the hilt of + the sword that seemed a part of him, and the eyes so calm; whilst when he + spoke of perils, they seemed to dwindle 'neath the disdain of them so + manifest in his tone. + </p> + <p> + With Fortemani at his heels he went about the execution of the measures he + had suggested, the bully following him now with the faithful wonder of a + dog for its master, realising that here, indeed, was a soldier of fortune + by comparison with whom the likes of himself were no better than + camp-followers. Confidence, too, did Ercole gather from that magnetism of + Francesco's unfaltering confidence; for he seemed to treat the matter as a + great jest, a comedy played for the Duke of Babbiano and at that same + Duke's expense. And just as Francesco's brisk tone breathed confidence + into Fortemani and Valentina, so, too, did it breathe it into Fortemani's + wretched followers. They grew zestful in the reflection of his zest, and + out of admiration for him they came to admire the business on which they + were engaged, and, finally, to take a pride in the part he assigned to + each of them. Within an hour there was such diligent bustle in Roccaleone, + such an air of grim gaiety and high spirits, that Valentina, observing it, + wondered what manner of magician was this she had raised to the command of + her fortress, who in so little time could work so marvellous a change in + the demeanour of her garrison. + </p> + <p> + Once only did Francesco's light-heartedness fail him, and this was when, + upon visiting the armoury, he found but one single cask of gunpowder + stored there. He turned to Fortemani to inquire where Gonzaga had bestowed + it, and Fortemani being as ignorant as himself upon the subject he went + forthwith in quest of Gonzaga. After ransacking the castle for him, he + found him pacing the vine-alley in the garden in animated conversation + with Valentina. At his approach the courtier's manner grew more subdued, + and his brows sullen. + </p> + <p> + “Messer Gonzaga,” Francesco hailed him. The courtier, surprised, looked + up. “Where have you hidden your store of powder?” + </p> + <p> + “Powder?” faltered Gonzaga, chilled by a sudden apprehension. “Is there + none in the armoury?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—one small cask, enough to load a cannon once or twice, leaving + us nothing for our hand-guns. Is that your store?” + </p> + <p> + “If that is all there is in the armoury, that is all we have.” + </p> + <p> + Franceseo stood speechless, staring at him, a dull flush creeping into his + cheeks. In that moment of wrath he forgot their positions, and gave never + a thought to the smarting that must be with Gonzaga at the loss of rank he + had suffered since Valentina had appointed a provost. + </p> + <p> + “And are these your methods of fortifying Roccaleone?” he asked, in a + voice that cut like a knife. “You have laid in good store of wine, a flock + of sheep, and endless delicacies, sir,” he jeered. “Did you expect to pelt + the enemy with these, or did you reckon upon no enemy at all?” + </p> + <p> + Now this question touched so closely upon the truth, that it fired in + Gonzaga's bosom an anger that for the moment made a man of him. It was the + last breath that blew into a blaze the smouldering wrath he carried in his + soul. + </p> + <p> + His retort came fierce and hot. It was as unmeasured and contemptuous as + Francesco's erst recriminations, and it terminated in a challenge to the + Count to meet him on horse or foot, with sword or lance, and that as soon + as might be. + </p> + <p> + But Valentina intervened, and rebuked them both. Yet to Francesco her + rebuke was courteous, and ended in a prayer that he should do the best + with such resources as Roccaleone offered; to Gonzaga it was contemptuous + in the last degree, for Francesco's question—which Gonzaga had left + unanswered—coming at a moment when she was full of suspicions of + Gonzaga, and the ends he had sought to serve in advising her upon a course + which he had since shown himself so utterly unfitted to guide, had opened + wide her eyes. She remembered how strangely moved he had been upon + learning yesterday that Gian Maria was marching upon Roccaleone, and how + ardently he had advised flight from the fortress—he that had so + bravely talked of holding it against the Duke. + </p> + <p> + They were still wrangling there in a most unseemly fashion when a + trumpet-blast reached them from beyond the walls. + </p> + <p> + “The herald again,” she cried. “Come, Messer Francesco, let us hear what + fresh message he brings.” + </p> + <p> + She led Francesco away, leaving Gonzaga in the shadow of the vines, + reduced well-nigh to tears in the extremity of his mortification. + </p> + <p> + The herald was returned with the announcement that Valentina's answer left + Gian Maria no alternative but to await the arrival of Duke Guidobaldo, who + was then marching to join him. The Duke of Urbino's presence would be, he + thought, ample justification in her eyes for the challenge Gian Maria had + sent, and which he would send again when her uncle arrived to confirm it. + </p> + <p> + Thereafter, the remainder of the day was passed in peace at Roccaleone, if + we except the very hell of unrest that surged in the heart of Romeo + Gonzaga. He sat disregarded at supper that evening, save by Valentina's + ladies and the fool, who occasionally rallied him upon his glumness. + Valentina herself turned her whole attention to the Count, and whilst + Gonzaga—Gonzaga, the poet of burning fancy, the gay songster, the + acknowledged wit, the mirror of courtliness—was silent and + tongue-tied, this ruffling, upstart swashbuckler entertained them with a + sprightliness that won him every heart—always excepting that of + Romeo Gonzaga. + </p> + <p> + Francesco made light of the siege in a manner that enlivened every soul + present with relief. He grew merry at the expense of Gian Maria, and made + it very plain that he could have found naught more captivating to his + warlike fancy than this business upon which an accident had embarked him. + He was as full of confidence for the issue as he was full of eager + anticipation of the fray itself. + </p> + <p> + Is it wonderful that—never having known any but artificial men; men + of court and ante-chamber; men of dainty ways and mincing, affected tricks + of speech; in short, such men as circumstance ordains shall surround the + great—Monna Valentina's eyes should open very wide, the better to + behold this new pattern of a man, who, whilst clearly a gentleman of high + degree, carried with him an air of the camp rather than the camerion, was + imbued by a spirit of chivalry and adventure, and ignored with a certain + lofty dignity, as if beneath his observance, the poses that she was wont + to see characterising the demeanour of the gentlemen of his Highness, her + uncle. + </p> + <p> + He was young, moreover, yet no longer callow; comely, yet with a strong + male comeliness; he had a pleasantly modulated voice, yet one that they + had heard swell into a compelling note of command; he had the most joyous, + careless laugh in all the world—such a laugh as endears a man to all + that hear it—and he indulged it without stint. + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga sat glum and moody, his heart bursting with the resentment of the + mean and the incompetent for the man of brilliant parts. But the morrow + was to bring him worse. + </p> + <p> + The Duke of Urbino arrived next morning, and rode up to the moat in + person, attended only by a trumpeter, who, for the third time, wound a + note of challenge to the fortress. + </p> + <p> + As on the previous day, Valentina answered the summons, attended by + Francesco, Fortemani and Gonzaga—the latter uninvited yet not + denied, and following sullenly in her train, in a last, despairing attempt + to assert himself one of her captains. + </p> + <p> + Francesco had put on his harness, and came arrayed from head to foot in + resplendent steel, to do worthy honour to the occasion. A bunch of plumes + nodded in his helm, and for all that his beaver was open, yet the shadows + of the head-piece afforded at the distance sufficient concealment to his + features. + </p> + <p> + The sight of her uncle left Valentina unmoved. Well-beloved though he was + of his people, between himself and his niece he had made no effort ever to + establish relations of affection. Less than ever did he now seek to + prevail by the voice of kinship. He came in the panoply of war, as a + prince to a rebel subject, and in precisely such a tone did he greet her. + </p> + <p> + “Monna Valentina,” he said—seeming entirely to overlook the + circumstance that she was his kinswoman—“deeply though this + rebellion grieves me, you are not to think that your sex shall gain you + any privileges or any clemency. We will treat you precisely as we would + any other rebel subject who acted as you have done.” + </p> + <p> + “Highness,” she replied, “I solicit no privilege beyond that to which my + sex gives me the absolute right, and which has no concern with war and + arms. I allude to the privilege of disposing of myself, my hand and heart, + as it shall please me. Until you come to recognise that I am a woman + endowed with a woman's nature, and until, having realised it, you are + prepared to submit to it, and pass me your princely word to urge the Duke + of Babbiano's suit no further with me, here will I stay in spite of you, + your men-at-arms, and your paltry ally, Gian Maria, who imagines that love + may be made successfully in armour, and that a way to a woman's heart is + to be opened with cannon-shot.” + </p> + <p> + “I think we shall bring you to a more subjective and dutiful frame of + mind, Madonna,” was the grim answer. + </p> + <p> + “Dutiful to whom?” + </p> + <p> + “To the State, a princess of which you have had the honour to be born.” + </p> + <p> + “And what of my duty to myself, to my heart, and to my womanhood? Is no + account to be taken of that?” + </p> + <p> + “These are matters, Madonna, that are not to be discussed in shouts from + the walls of a castle—nor, indeed, do I wish to discuss them + anywhere. I am here to summon you to surrender. If you resist us, you do + so at your peril.” + </p> + <p> + “Then at my peril I will resist you—gladly. I defy you. Do your + worst against me, disgrace your manhood and the very name of chivalry by + whatsoever violence may occur to you, yet I promise you that Valentina + della Rovere never shall become the wife of his Highness of Babbiano.” + </p> + <p> + “You refuse to open your gates?” he returned, in a voice that shook with + anger. + </p> + <p> + “Utterly and finally.” + </p> + <p> + “And you think to persist in this?” + </p> + <p> + “As long as I have life.” + </p> + <p> + The Prince laughed sardonically. + </p> + <p> + “I wash my hands of the affair and of its consequences,” he answered + grimly. “I leave it in the care of your future husband, Gian Maria Sforza, + and if, in his very natural eagerness for the nuptials, he uses your + castle roughly, the blame of it must rest with you. But what he does, he + does with my full sanction, and I have come hither to advise you of it + since you appeared in doubt. I beg that you will remain there for a few + moments, to hear what his Highness himself may have to say. I trust his + eloquence may prove more persuasive.” + </p> + <p> + He saluted ceremoniously, and, wheeling his horse about, he rode away. + Valentina would have withdrawn, but Francesco urged her to remain, and + await the Duke of Babbiano's coming. And so they paced the battlements, + Valentina in earnest talk with Francesco, Gonzaga following in moody + silence with Fortemani, and devouring them with his eyes. + </p> + <p> + From their eminence they surveyed the bustling camp in the plain, where + tents, green, brown, and white, were being hastily erected by + half-stripped soldiers. The little army altogether, may have numbered a + hundred men, which, in his vainglory, Gian Maria accounted all that would + be needed to reduce Roccaleone. But the most formidable portion of his + forces rolled into the field even as they watched. It was heralded by a + hoarse groaning of the wheels of bullock-carts to the number of ten, on + each of which was borne a cannon. Other carts followed with ammunition and + victuals for the men encamped. + </p> + <p> + They looked on with interest at the busy scene that was toward, and as + they watched they saw Guidobaldo ride into the heart of the camp, and + dismount. Then from out of a tent more roomy and imposing than the rest + advanced the short, stout figure of Gian Maria, not to be recognised at + that distance save by the keen eyes of Francesco that were familiar with + his shape. + </p> + <p> + A groom held a horse for him and assisted him to mount, and then, attended + by the same trumpeter that had escorted Guidobaldo, he rode forward + towards the castle. At the edge of the moat he halted, and at sight of + Valentina and her company, he doffed his feathered hat, and bowed his + straw-coloured head. + </p> + <p> + “Monna Valentina,” he called, and when she stepped forth in answer, he + raised his little, cruel eyes in a malicious glance and showed the round + moon of his white face to be whiter even, than its wont—a pallor + atrabilious and almost green. + </p> + <p> + “I am grieved that his Highness, your uncle, should not have prevailed + with you. Where he has failed, I may have little hope of succeeding—by + the persuasion of words. Yet I would beg you to allow me to have speech of + your captain, whoever he may be.” + </p> + <p> + “My captains are here in attendance,” she answered tranquilly. + </p> + <p> + “So! You have a plurality of them; to command—how many men?” + </p> + <p> + “Enough,” roared Francesco, interposing, his voice sounding hollow from + his helmet, “to blow you and your woman besieging scullions to perdition.” + </p> + <p> + The Duke stirred on his horse, and peered up at the speaker. But there was + too little of his face visible for recognition, whilst his voice was + altered and his figure dissembled in its steel casing. + </p> + <p> + “Who are you, rogue?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Rogue in your teeth, be you twenty times a Duke,” returned the other, at + which Valentina laughed outright. + </p> + <p> + Never from the day when he had uttered his first wail had his Highness of + Babbiano heard words of such import from the lips of living man. A purple + flush mottled his cheeks at the indignity of it. + </p> + <p> + “Attend to me, knave!” he bellowed. “Whatever betide the rest of this + misguided garrison when ultimately it falls into my hands, for you I can + promise a rope and a cross-beam.” + </p> + <p> + “Bah!” sneered the knight. “First catch your bird. Be none so sure that + Roccaleone ever will fall into your hands. While I live you do not enter + here, and my life, Highness, is for me a precious thing, which I'll not + part with lightly.” + </p> + <p> + Valentina's eyes were mirthless now as she turned them upon that gleaming, + martial figure standing so proudly at her side, and seeming so + well-attuned to the proud defiance he hurled at the princely bully below. + </p> + <p> + “Hush, sir!” she murmured. “Do not anger him further.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye,” groaned Gonzaga, “in God's name say no more, or you'll undo us + hopelessly.” + </p> + <p> + “Madonna,” said the Duke, without further heeding Francesco, “I give you + twenty-four hours in which to resolve upon your action. Yonder you see + them bringing the cannon into camp. When you wake to-morrow you shall find + those guns trained upon your walls. Meanwhile, enough said. May I speak a + word with Messer Gonzaga ere I depart.” + </p> + <p> + “So that you depart, you may say a word to whom you will,” she answered + contemptuously. And, turning aside, she motioned Gonzaga to the crenel she + abandoned. + </p> + <p> + “I'll swear that mincing jester is trembling already with the fear of what + is to come,” bawled the Duke, “and perhaps fear will show him the way to + reason. Messer Gonzaga!” he called, raising his voice. “As I believe the + men of Roccaleone are in your service, I call upon you to bid them throw + down that drawbridge, and in the name of Guidobaldo as well as my own, I + promise them free pardon and no hurt—saving only that rascal at your + side. But if your knaves resist me, I promise you that when I shall have + dashed Roccaleone stone from stone, not a man of you all will I spare.” + </p> + <p> + Shaking like an aspen Gonzaga stood there, his voice palsied and making no + reply, whereupon Francesco leant forward again. + </p> + <p> + “We have heard your terms,” he answered, “and we are not like to heed + them. Waste not the day in vain threats.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir, my terms were not for you. I know you not; I addressed you not, nor + will I suffer myself to be addressed by you.” + </p> + <p> + “Linger there another moment,” answered the vibrating voice of the knight, + “and you will find yourself addressed with a volley of arquebuse-shot. + Olá, there!” he commanded, turning and addressing an imaginary body of men + on the lower ramparts of the garden, to his left. “Arquebusiers to the + postern! Blow your matches! Make ready! Now, my Lord Duke, will you draw + off, or must we blow you off?” + </p> + <p> + The Duke's reply took the form of a bunch of blasphemous threats of how he + would serve his interlocutor when he came to set hands on him. + </p> + <p> + “Present arms!” roared the knight to his imaginary arquebusiers, + whereupon, without another word, the Duke turned his horse and rode off in + disgraceful haste, his trumpeter following hot upon his heels, pursued by + a derisive burst of laughter from Francesco. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII. TREACHERY + </h2> + <p> + “Sir,” gulped Gonzaga, as they were descending from the battlements, “you + will end by having us all hanged. Was that a way to address a prince?” + </p> + <p> + Valentina frowned that he should dare rebuke her knight. But Francesco + only laughed. + </p> + <p> + “By St. Paul! How would you have had me address him?” he inquired. “Would + you have had me use cajolery with him—the lout? Would you have had + me plead mercy from him, and beg him, in honeyed words, to be patient with + a wilful lady? Let be, Messer Gonzaga, we shall weather it yet, never + doubt it.” + </p> + <p> + “Messer Gonzaga's courage seems of a quality that wanes as the need for it + increases,” said Valentina. + </p> + <p> + “You are confounding courage, Madonna, with foolhardy recklessness,” the + courtier returned. “You may learn it to your undoing.” + </p> + <p> + That Gonzaga was not the only one entertaining this opinion they were soon + to learn, for, as they reached the courtyard a burly, black-browed + ruffian, Cappoccio by name, thrust himself in their path. + </p> + <p> + “A word with you, Messer Gonzaga, and you, Ser Ercole.” His attitude was + full of truculent insolence, and all paused, Francesco and Valentina + turning from him to the two men whom he addressed, and waiting to hear + what he might have to say to them. “When I accepted service under you, I + was given to understand that I was entering a business that should entail + little risk to my skin. I was told that probably there would be no + fighting, and that if there were, it would be no more than a brush with + the Duke's men. So, too, did you assure my comrades.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you indeed?” quoth Valentina, intervening, and addressing herself to + Fortemani, to whom Cappoccio's words had been directed. + </p> + <p> + “I did, Madonna,” answered Ercole. “But I had Messer Gonzaga's word for + it.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you,” she continued, turning to Gonzaga, “permit their engagement on + that understanding?” + </p> + <p> + “On some such understanding, yes, Madonna,” he was forced to confess. + </p> + <p> + She looked at him a moment in amazement. Then: + </p> + <p> + “Msser Gonzaga,” she said at length, “I think that I begin to know you.” + </p> + <p> + But Cappoccio, who was nowise interested in the extent of Valentina's + knowledge of the man, broke in impetuously: + </p> + <p> + “Now we have heard what has passed between this new Provost here and his + Highness of Babbiano. We have heard the terms that were offered, and his + rejection of them, and I am come to tell you, Ser Ercole, and you, Messer + Gonzaga, that I for one will not remain here to be hanged when Roccaleone + shall fall into the hands of Gian Maria. And there are others of my + comrades who are of the same mind.” + </p> + <p> + Valentina looked at the rugged, determined features of the man, and fear + for the first time stole into her heart and was reflected on her + countenance. She was half-turning to Gonzaga, to vent upon him some of the + bitterness of her humour—for him she accounted to blame—when + once again Francesco came to the rescue. + </p> + <p> + “Now, shame on you, Cappoccio, for a paltry hind! Are these words for the + ears of a besieged and sorely harassed lady, craven?” + </p> + <p> + “I am no craven,” the man answered hoarsely, his face flushing under the + whip of Francesco's scorn. “Out in the open I will take my chances, and + fight in any cause that pays me. But this is not my trade—this + waiting for the death of a trapped rat.” + </p> + <p> + Francesco met his eyes steadily for a moment, then glanced at the other + men, to the number of a half-score or so—all, in fact, whom the + duties he had apportioned them did not hold elsewhere. They hung in the + rear of Cappoccio, all ears for what was being said, and their + countenances plainly showing how their feelings were in sympathy with + their spokesman. + </p> + <p> + “And you a soldier, Cappoccio?” sneered Francesco. “Shall I tell you in + what Fortemani was wrong when he enlisted you? He was wrong in not hiring + you for scullion duty in the castle kitchen.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir Knight!” + </p> + <p> + “Bah! Do you raise your voice to me? Do you think I am of your kind, + animal, to be affrighted by sounds—however hideous?” + </p> + <p> + “I am not affrighted by sounds.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you not? Why, then, all this ado about a bunch of empty threats cast + at us by the Duke of Babbiano? If you were indeed the soldier you would + have us think you, would you come here and say, 'I will not die this way, + or that'? Confess yourself a boaster when you tell us that you are ready + to die in the open.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay! That am I not.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, if you are ready to die out there, why not in here? Shall it + signify aught to him that dies where he gets his dying done? But reassure + yourself, you woman,” he added, with a laugh, and in a voice loud enough + to be heard by the others, “you are not going to die—neither here, + nor there.” + </p> + <p> + “When Roccaleone capitulates——” + </p> + <p> + “It will not capitulate,” thundered Francesco. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then—when it is taken.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor will it be taken,” the Provost insisted, with an assurance that + carried conviction. “If Gian Maria had time unlimited at his command, he + might starve us into submission. But he has not. An enemy is menacing his + own frontiers, and in a few days—a week, at most—he will be + forced to get him hence to defend his crown.” + </p> + <p> + “The greater reason for him to use stern measures and bombard us as he + threatens,” answered Cappoccio shrewdly but rather in the tone of a man + who expects to have his argument disproved. And Francesco, if he could not + disprove it, could at least contradict it. + </p> + <p> + “Believe it not,” he cried, with a scornful laugh. “I tell you that Gian + Maria will never dare so much. And if he did, are these walls that will + crumble at a few cannon-shots? Assault he might attempt; but I need not + tell a soldier that twenty men who are stout and resolute, as I will + believe you are for all your craven words, could hold so strong a place as + this against the assault of twenty times the men the Duke has with him. + And for the rest, if you think I tell you more than I believe myself, I + ask you to remember how I am included in Gian Maria's threat. I am but a + soldier like you, and such risks as are yours are mine as well. Do you see + any sign of faltering in me, any sign of doubting the issue, or any fear + of a rope that shall touch me no more than it shall touch you? There, + Cappoccio! A less merciful provost would have hanged you for your words—for + they reek of sedition. Yet I have stood and argued with you, because I + cannot spare a brave man such as you will prove yourself. Let us hear no + more of your doubtings. They are unworthy. Be brave and resolute, and you + shall find yourself well rewarded when the baffled Duke shall be forced to + raise this siege.” + </p> + <p> + He turned without waiting for the reply of Cappoccio—who stood + crestfallen, his cheeks reddened by shame of his threat to get him hence—and + conducted Valentina calmly across the yard and up the steps of the hall. + </p> + <p> + It was his way never to show a doubt that his orders would be obeyed, yet + on this occasion scarce had the door of the hall closed after them when he + turned sharply to the following Ercole. + </p> + <p> + “Get you an arquebuse,” he said quickly, “and take my man Lanciotto, with + you. Should those dogs still prove mutinous, fire into any that attempt + the gates—fire to kill—and send me word. But above all, + Ercole, do not let them see you or suspect your presence; that were to + undermine such effect as my words may have produced.” + </p> + <p> + From out of a woefully pale face Valentina raised her brown eyes to his, + in a look that was as a stab to the observing Gonzaga. + </p> + <p> + “I needed a man here,” she said, “and I think that Heaven it must have + been that sent you to my aid. But do you think,” she asked, and with her + eyes she closely scanned his face for any sign of doubt, “that they are + pacified?” + </p> + <p> + “I am assured of it, Madonna. Come, there are signs of tears in your eyes, + and—by my soul!—there is naught to weep at.” + </p> + <p> + “I am but a woman, after all,” she smiled up at him, “and so, subject to a + woman's weakness. It seemed as if the end were indeed come just now. It + had come, but for you. If they should mutiny——” + </p> + <p> + “They shall not, while I am here,” he answered, with a cheering + confidence. And she, full of faith in this true knight of hers, went to + seek her ladies, and to soothe in her turn any alarm to which they might + have fallen a prey. + </p> + <p> + Francesco went to disarm, and Gonzaga to take the air upon the ramparts, + his heart a very bag of gall. His hatred for the interloper was as nothing + now to his rage against Valentina, a rage that had its birth in a + wondering uncomprehension of how she should prefer that coarse, + swashbuckling bully to himself, the peerless Gonzaga. And as he walked + there, under the noontide sky, the memory of Francesco's assurance that + the men would not mutiny returned to him, and he caught himself most + ardently desiring that they might, if only to bear it home to Valentina + how misplaced was her trust, how foolish her belief in that loud boaster. + He thought next—and with increasing bitterness—of his own + brave schemes, of his love for Valentina, and of how assured he had been + that his affections were returned, before this ruffler came amongst them. + He laughed in bitter scorn as the thought returned to her preferring + Francesco to himself. Well, it might be so now—now that the times + were warlike, and this Francesco was such a man as shone at his best in + them. But what manner of companion would this sbirro make in times of + peace? Had he the wit, the grace, the beauty even that was Gonzaga's? + Circumstance, it seemed to him, was here to blame, and he roundly cursed + that same Circumstance. In other surroundings, he was assured that she + would not have cast an eye upon Francesco whilst he, himself, was by; and + if he recalled their first meeting at Acquasparta, it was again to curse + Circumstance for having placed the knight in such case as to appeal to the + tenderness that is a part of woman's nature. + </p> + <p> + He reflected—assured that he was right—that if Francesco had + not come to Roccaleone, he might by now have been wed to Valentina; and + once wed, he could throw down the bridge and march out of Roccaleone, + assured that Gian Maria would not care to espouse his widow, and no less + assured that Guidobaldo—who was at heart a kind and clement prince—would + be content to let be what was accomplished, since there would be naught + gained beyond his niece's widowhood in hanging Gonzaga. It was the + specious argument that had lured him upon this rash enterprise, the hopes + that he was confident would have fructified but for the interloping of + Francesco. + </p> + <p> + He stood looking down at the tented plain, with black rage and black + despair blotting the beauty from the sunlight of that May morning, and + then it came to him that since there was naught to be hoped from his old + plans, might it not be wise to turn his attention to new ones that would, + at least, save him from hanging? For he was assured that whatever might + betide the others, his own fate was sealed, whether Roccaleone fell or + not. It would be remembered against him that the affair was of his + instigating, and from neither Gian Maria nor Guidobaldo might he look for + mercy. + </p> + <p> + And now the thought of extricating himself from his desperate peril turned + him cold by its suddenness. He stood very still a moment; then looked + about him as though he feared that some watching spy might read on him the + ugly intention that of a sudden had leapt to life in his heart. Swiftly it + spread, and took more definite shape, the reflection of it showing now + upon his smooth, handsome face, and disfiguring it beyond belief. He drew + away from the wall, and took a turn or two upon the ramparts, one hand + behind him, the other raised to support his drooping chin. Thus he brooded + for a little while. Then, with another of his furtive glances, he turned + to the north-western tower, and entered the armoury. There he rummaged + until he had found the pen, ink and paper that he sought, and with the + door wide open—the better that he might hear the sound of + approaching steps—he set himself feverishly to write. It was soon + done, and he stood up, waving the sheet to dry the ink. Then he looked it + over again, and this is what he had written: + </p> + <p> + “I have it in my power to stir the garrison to mutiny and to throw open + the gates of Roccaleone. Thus shall the castle fall immediately into your + hands, and you shall have a proof of how little I am in sympathy with this + rebellion of Monna Valentina's. What terms do you offer me if I accomplish + this? Answer me now, and by the same means as I am employing, but dispatch + not your answer if I show myself upon the ramparts. + </p> + <p> + “ROMEO GONZAGA.” + </p> + <p> + He folded the paper, and on the back he wrote the superscription—“To + the High and Mighty Duke of Babbiano.” Then opening a large chest that + stood against the wall, he rummaged a moment, and at last withdrew an + arbalest quarrel. About the body of this he tied his note. Next, from the + wall he took down a cross-bow, and from a corner a moulinet for winding + it. With his foot in the stirrup he made the cord taut and set the shaft + in position. + </p> + <p> + And now he closed the door, and, going to the window, which was little + more than an arrow-slit, he shouldered his arbalest. He took careful aim + in the direction of the ducal tent, and loosed the quarrel. He watched its + light, and it almost thrilled him with pride in his archery to see it + strike the tent at which he had aimed, and set the canvas shuddering. + </p> + <p> + In a moment there was a commotion. Men ran to the spot, others emerged + from the tent, and amongst the latter Gonzaga recognised the figures of + Gian Maria and Guidobaldo. + </p> + <p> + The bolt was delivered to the Duke of Babbiano, who, with an upward glance + at the ramparts, vanished into the tent once more. + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga moved from his eerie, and set wide the door of the tower, so that + his eyes could range the whole of the sun-bathed ramparts. Returning to + his window, he waited impatiently for the answer. Nor was his impatience + to endure long. At the end of some ten minutes Gian Maria reappeared, and, + summoning an archer to his side, he delivered him something and made a + motion of his hand towards Roccaleone. Gonzaga moved to the door, and + stood listening breathlessly. At the least sign of an approach, he would + have shown himself, and thus, by the provision made in his letter have + cautioned the archer against shooting his bolt. But all was quiet, and so + Gonzaga remained where he was until something flashed like a bird across + his vision, struck sharply against the posterior wall, and fell with a + tinkle on the broad stones of the rampart. A moment later the answer from + Gian Maria was in his hands. + </p> + <p> + He swiftly unwound it from the shaft that had brought it, and dropped the + bolt into a corner. Then unfolding the letter, he read it, leaning against + one of the merlons of the wall. + </p> + <p> + “If you can devise a means to deliver Roccaleone at once into my hands you + shall earn my gratitude, full pardon for your share in Monna Valentina's + rebellion, and the sum of a thousand gold florins. + </p> + <p> + “GIAN MARIA.” + </p> + <p> + As he read, a light of joy leapt to his eyes. Gian Maria's terms were very + generous. He would accept them, and Valentina should realise when too late + upon what manner of broken reed she leaned in relying upon Messer + Francesco. Would he save her now, as he so loudly boasted? Would there + indeed be no mutiny, as he so confidently prophesied? Gonzaga chuckled + evilly to himself. She should learn her lesson, and when she was Gian + Maria's wife, she might perhaps repent her of her treatment of Romeo + Gonzaga. + </p> + <p> + He laughed softly to himself. Then suddenly he turned cold, and he felt + his skin roughening. A stealthy step sounded behind him. + </p> + <p> + He crumpled the Duke's letter in his hand, and in the alarm of the moment, + he dropped it over the wall. Seeking vainly to compose the features that a + chilling fear had now disturbed, he turned to see who came. + </p> + <p> + Behind him stood Peppe, his solemn eyes bent with uncanny intentness upon + Gonzaga's face. + </p> + <p> + “You were seeking me?” quoth Romeo, and the quaver in his voice sorted ill + with his arrogance. + </p> + <p> + The fool made him a grotesque bow. + </p> + <p> + “Monna Valentina desires that you attend her in the garden, Illustrious.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX. PLOT AND COUNTERPLOT + </h2> + <p> + Peppe's quick eyes had seen Gonzaga crumple and drop the paper, no less + than he had observed the courtier's startled face, and his suspicions had + been aroused. He was by nature prying, and experience had taught him that + the things men seek to conceal are usually the very things it imports most + to have knowledge of. So when Gonzaga had gone, in obedience to + Valentina's summons, the jester peered carefully over the battlements. + </p> + <p> + At first he saw nothing, and he was concluding with disappointment that + the thing Gonzaga had cast from him was lost in the torrential waters of + the moat. But presently, lodged on a jutting stone, above the foaming + stream into which it would seem that a miracle had prevented it from + falling, he espied a ball of crumpled paper. He observed with satisfaction + that it lay some ten feet immediately below the postern-gate by the + drawbridge. + </p> + <p> + Secretly, for it was not Peppy's way to take men into his confidence where + it might be avoided, he got himself a coil of rope. Having descended and + quietly opened the postern, he made one end fast and lowered the other to + the water with extreme care, lest he should dislodge, and so lose, that + paper. + </p> + <p> + Assuring himself again that he was unobserved, he went down, hand over + hand, like a monkey, his feet against the rough-hewn granite of the wall. + Then, with a little swinging of the rope, he brought himself nearer that + crumpled ball, his legs now dangling in the angry water, and by a mighty + stretch that all but precipitated him into the torrent, he seized the + paper and transferred it to his teeth. Then hand over hand again, and with + a frantic haste, for he feared observation not only from the castle + sentries but also from the watchers in the besieger's camp, he climbed + back to the postern, exulting in that he had gone unobserved, and + contemptuous for the vigilance of those that should have observed him. + </p> + <p> + Softly he closed the wicket, locked it and shot home the bolts at top and + base, and went to replace the key on its nail in the guard-room, which he + found untenanted. Next, with that mysterious letter in his hand, he + scampered off across the courtyard and through the porch leading to the + domestic quarters, nor paused until he had gained the kitchen, where Fra + Domenico was roasting the quarter of a lamb that he had that morning + butchered. For now that the siege was established, there was no more fish + from the brook, nor hares and ortolans from the country-side. + </p> + <p> + The friar cursed the fool roundly, as was his wont upon every occasion, + for he was none so holy that he disdained the milder forms of objurgatory + oaths. But Peppe for once had no vicious answer ready, a matter that led + the Dominican to ask him was he ill. + </p> + <p> + Never heeding him, the fool unfolded and smoothed the crumpled paper in a + corner by the fire. He read it and whistled, then stuffed it into the + bosom of his absurd tunic. + </p> + <p> + “What ails you?” quoth the friar. “What have you there?” + </p> + <p> + “A recipe for a dish of friar's brains. A most rare delicacy, and rendered + costly by virtue of the scarcity of the ingredients.” And with that answer + Peppe was gone, leaving the monk with an ugly look in his eyes, and an + unuttered imprecation on his tongue. + </p> + <p> + Straight to the Count of Aquila went the fool with his letter. Francesco + read it, and questioned him closely as to what he knew of the manner in + which it had come into Gonzaga's possession. For the rest, those lines, + far from causing him the uneasiness Peppe expected, seemed a source of + satisfaction and assurance to him. + </p> + <p> + “He offers a thousand gold florins,” he muttered, “in addition to + Gonzaga's liberty and advancement. Why, then, I have said no more than was + true when I assured the men that Gian Maria was but idly threatening us + with bombardment. Keep this matter secret, Peppe.” + </p> + <p> + “But you will watch Messer Gonzaga?” quoth the fool. + </p> + <p> + “Watch him? Why, where is the need? You do not imagine him so vile that + this offer could tempt him?” + </p> + <p> + Peppe looked up, his great, whimsical face screwed into an expression of + cunning doubt. + </p> + <p> + “You do not think, lord, that he invited it?” + </p> + <p> + “Now, shame on you for that thought. Messer Gonzaga may be an idle + lute-thrummer, a poor-spirited coward; but a traitor——! And to + betray Monna Valentina! No, no.” + </p> + <p> + But the fool was far from reassured. He had had the longer acquaintance of + Messer Gonzaga, and his shrewd eyes had long since taken the man's exact + measure. Let Francesco scorn the notion of betrayal at Romeo's hands; + Peppe would dog him like a shadow. This he did for the remainder of that + day, clinging to Gonzaga as if he loved him dearly, and furtively + observing the man's demeanour. Yet he saw nothing to confirm his + suspicions beyond a certain preoccupied moodiness on the courtier's part. + </p> + <p> + That night, as they supped, Gonzaga pleaded toothache, and with + Valentina's leave he quitted the table at the very outset of the meal. + Peppe rose to follow him, but as he reached the door, his natural enemy, + the friar—ever anxious to thwart him where he could—caught him + by the nape of the neck, and flung him unceremoniously back into the room. + </p> + <p> + “Have you a toothache too, good-for-naught?” quoth the frate. “Stay you + here and help me to wait upon the company.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me go, good Fra Domenico,” the fool whispered, in a voice so earnest + that the monk left his way clear. But Valentina's voice now bade him stay + with them, and so his opportunity was lost. + </p> + <p> + He moved about the room a very dispirited, moody fool with no quip for + anyone, for his thoughts were all on Gonzaga and the treason that he was + sure he was hatching. Yet faithful to Francesco, who sat all unconcerned, + and not wishing to alarm Valentina, he choked back the warning that rose + to his lips, seeking to convince himself that his fears sprang perhaps + from an excess of suspicion. Had he known how well-founded indeed they + were he might have practised less self-restraint. + </p> + <p> + For whilst he moved sullenly about the room, assisting Fra Domenico with + the dishes and platters, Gonzaga paced the ramparts beside Cappoccio, who + was on sentry duty on the north wall. + </p> + <p> + His business called for no great diplomacy, nor did Gonzaga employ much. + He bluntly told Cappoccio that he and his comrades had allowed Messer + Francesco's glib tongue to befool them that morning, and that the + assurances Francesco had given them were not worthy of an intelligent + man's consideration. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you, Cappoccio,” he ended, “that to remain here and protract this + hopeless resistance will cost you your life at the unsavoury hands of the + hangman. You see I am frank with you.” + </p> + <p> + Now for all that what Gonzaga told him might sort excellently well with + the ideas he had himself entertained, Cappoccio was of a suspicious + nature, and his suspicions whispered to him now that Gonzaga was actuated + by some purpose he could not gauge. + </p> + <p> + He stood still, and leaning with both hands upon his partisan, he sought + to make out the courtier's features in the dim light of the rising moon. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean,” he asked, and in his voice sounded the surprise with which + Gonzaga's odd speech had filled him, “that we are foolish to have listened + to Messer Francesco, and that we should be better advised to march out of + Roccaleone?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; that is what I mean.” + </p> + <p> + “But why,” he insisted, his surprise increasing, “do you urge such a + course upon us?” + </p> + <p> + “Because, Cappoccio,” was the plausible reply, “like yourselves, I was + lured into this business by insidious misrepresentations. The assurances + that I gave Fortemani, and with which he enrolled you into his service, + were those that had been given to me. I did not bargain with such a death + as awaits us here, and I frankly tell you that I have no stomach for it.” + </p> + <p> + “I begin to understand,” murmured Cappoccio, sagely wagging his head, and + there was a shrewd insolence in his tone and manner. “When we leave + Roccaleone you come with us?” + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga nodded. + </p> + <p> + “But why do you not say these things to Fortemani?” questioned Cappoccio, + still doubting. + </p> + <p> + “Fortemani!” echoed Gonzaga. “By the Host, no! The man is bewitched by + that plausible rogue, Francesco. Far from resenting the fellow's treatment + of him, he follows and obeys his every word, like the mean-spirited dog + that he is.” + </p> + <p> + Again Cappoccio sought to scrutinise Gonzaga's face. But the light was + indifferent. + </p> + <p> + “Are you dealing with me fairly?” he asked. “Or does some deeper purpose + lie under your wish that we should rebel against the lady?” + </p> + <p> + “My friend,” answered Gonzaga, “do you but wait until Gian Maria's herald + comes for his answer in the morning. Then you will learn again the terms + on which your lives are offered you. Do nothing until then. But when you + hear yourselves threatened with the rope and the wheel, bethink you of + what course you will be best advised in pursuing. You ask me what purpose + inspires me. I have already told you—for I am as open as the + daylight with you—that I am inspired by the purpose of saving my own + neck. Is not that purpose enough?” + </p> + <p> + A laugh of such understanding as would have set a better man on fire with + indignation was the answer he received. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, it is more than enough. To-morrow, then, my comrades and I + march out of Roccaleone. Count upon that.” + </p> + <p> + “But do not accept my word. Wait until the herald comes again. Do nothing + until you have heard the terms he brings.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no, assuredly not.” + </p> + <p> + “And do not let it transpire among your fellows that it is I who have + suggested this.” + </p> + <p> + “Why no. I'll keep your secret,” laughed the bravo offensively, + shouldering his partisan and resuming his sentinel's pacing. + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga sought his bed. A fierce joy consumed him at having so + consummately planned Valentina's ruin, yet he did not wish to face her + again that night. + </p> + <p> + But when on the morrow the herald wound his horn again beneath the castle + walls, Gonzaga was prominent in the little group that attended Monna + Valentina. The Count of Aquila was superintending the work to which he had + set a half-score of men. With a great show, and as much noise as possible—by + which Francesco intended that the herald should be impressed—they + were rolling forward four small culverins and some three cannons of larger + calibre, and planting them so that they made a menacing show in the + crenels of the parapet. + </p> + <p> + Whilst watching and directing the men, he kept his ears open for the + message, and he heard the herald again recite the terms on which the + garrison might surrender, and again the threat to hang every man from the + castle-walls if they compelled him to reduce them by force of arms. He + brought his message to an end by announcing that in his extreme clemency + Gian Maria accorded them another half-hour's grace in which to resolve + themselves upon their course. Should the end of that time still find them + obstinate, the bombardment would commence. Such was the message that in + another of his arrow-borne letters Gonzaga had suggested Gian Maria should + send. + </p> + <p> + It was Francesco who stepped forward to reply. He had been stooping over + one of the guns, as if to assure himself of the accuracy of its aim, and + as he rose he pronounced himself satisfied in a voice loud enough for the + herald's hearing. Then he advanced to Valentina's side, and whilst he + stood there delivering his answer he never noticed the silent departure of + the men from the wall. + </p> + <p> + “You will tell his Highness of Babbiano,” he replied, “that he reminds us + of the boy in the fable who cried 'Wolf!' too often. Tell him, sir, that + his threats leave this garrison as unmoved as do his promises. If so be + that he intends in truth to bombard us, let him begin forthwith. We are + ready for him, as you perceive. Maybe he did not suppose us equipped with + cannon; but there they stand. Those guns are trained upon his camp, and + the first shot he fires upon us shall be a signal for such a reply as he + little dreams of. Tell him, too, that we expect no quarter, and will yield + none. We are unwilling for bloodshed, but if he drives us to it and + executes his purpose of employing cannon, then the consequences be upon + his own head. Bear him that answer, and tell him to send you no more with + empty threats.” + </p> + <p> + The herald bowed upon the withers of his horse. The arrogance, the cold + imperiousness of the message struck him dumb with amazement. Amazement was + his, too, that Roccaleone should be armed with cannon, as with his own + eyes he saw. That those guns were empty he could not guess, nor could Gian + Maria when he heard a message that filled him with rage, and would have + filled him with dismay, but that he counted upon the mutiny which Gonzaga + had pledged himself to stir up. + </p> + <p> + As the herald was riding away a gruff laugh broke from Fortemani, who + stood behind the Count. + </p> + <p> + Valentina turned to Francesco with eyes that beamed admiration and a + singular tenderness. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what had I done without you, Messer Francesco?” she cried, for surely + the twentieth time since his coming. “I tremble to think how things had + gone without your wit and valour to assist me.” She never noticed the + malicious smile that trembled on Gonzaga's pretty face. “Where did you + find the powder?” she asked innocently, for her mind had not yet caught + that humour of the situation that had drawn a laugh from Fortemani. + </p> + <p> + “I found none,” answered Francesco, smiling from the shadow of his helm. + “My threats”—and he waved his hand in the direction of that + formidable array of guns—“are as empty as Gian Maria's. Yet I think + they will impress him more than his do us. I will answer for it, Madonna, + that they deter him from bombarding us—if so be that he ever + intended to. So let us go and break our fast with a glad courage.” + </p> + <p> + “Those guns are empty?” she gasped. “And you could talk so boldly and + threaten so defiantly!” + </p> + <p> + Mirth crept now into her face, and thrust back the alarm, a little of + which had peeped from her eyes even as she was extolling Francesco. + </p> + <p> + “There!” he cried joyously. “You are smiling now, Madonna. Nor have you + cause for aught else. Shall we descend? This early morning work has given + me the hunger of a wolf.” + </p> + <p> + She turned to go with him, and in that moment, Peppe, his owlish face + spread over with alarm, dashed up the steps from the courtyard. + </p> + <p> + “Madonna!” he gasped, breathless. “Messer Francesco! The men—Cappoccio—— + He is haranguing them. He—is inciting them to treachery.” + </p> + <p> + So, in gasps, he got out his tale, which swept the mirth again from + Valentina's eyes, and painted very white her cheek. Strong and brave + though she was, she felt her senses swimming at that sudden revulsion from + confidence to fear. Was all indeed ended at the very moment when hope had + reached its high meridian? + </p> + <p> + “You are faint, Madonna; lean on me.” + </p> + <p> + It was Gonzaga who spoke. But beyond the fact that the words had been + uttered, she realised nothing. She saw an arm advanced, and she took it. + Then she dragged Gonzaga with her to the side overlooking the courtyard, + that with her own eyes she might have evidence of what was toward. + </p> + <p> + She heard an oath—a vigorous, wicked oath—from Francesco, + followed by a command, sharp and rasping. + </p> + <p> + “To the armoury yonder, Peppe! Fetch me a two-handed sword—the + stoutest you can find. Ercole, come with me. Gonzaga—— Nay, + you had best stay here. See to Monna Valentina.” + </p> + <p> + He stepped to her side now, and rapidly surveyed the surging scene below, + where Cappoccio was still addressing the men. At sight of Francesco, they + raised a fierce yell, as might a pack of dogs that have sighted their + quarry. + </p> + <p> + “To the gates!” was the shout. “Down the drawÂbridge! We accept the terms + of Gian Maria. We will not die like rats.” + </p> + <p> + “By God, but you shall, if I so will it!” snarled Francesco through his + set teeth. Then turning his head in a fever of impatience “Peppe,” he + shouted, “will you never bring that sword?” + </p> + <p> + The fool came up at that moment, staggering under the weight of a great, + double-edged two-hander, equipped with lugs, and measuring a good six feet + from point to pummel. Francesco caught it from him, and bending, he + muttered a swift order in Peppino's ear. + </p> + <p> + “...In the box that stands upon the table in my chamber,” Gonzaga + overheard him say. “Now go, and bring it to me in the yard. Speed you, + Peppino!” + </p> + <p> + A look of understanding flashed up from the hunchback's eyes, and as he + departed at a run Francesco hoisted the mighty sword to his shoulder as + though its weight were that of a feather. In that instant Valentina's + white hand was laid upon the brassart that steeled his fore-arm. + </p> + <p> + “What will you do?” she questioned, in a whisper, her eyes dilating with + alarm. + </p> + <p> + “Stem the treachery of that rabble,” he answered shortly. “Stay you here, + Madonna. Fortemani and I will pacify them—or make an end of them.” + And so grimly did he say it that Gonzaga believed it to lie within his + power. + </p> + <p> + “But you are mad!” she cried, and the fear in her eyes increased. “What + can you do against twenty?” + </p> + <p> + “What God pleases,” he answered, and for a second put the ferocity from + his heart that he might smile reassurance. + </p> + <p> + “But you will be killed,” she cried. “Oh! don't go, don't go! Let them + have their way, Messer Francesco. Let Gian Maria invest the castle. I care + not, so that you do not go.” + </p> + <p> + Her voice, and the tale it told of sweet anxiety for his fate overruling + everything else in that moment—even her horror of Gian Maria—quickened + his blood to the pace of ecstasy. He was taken by a wild longing to catch + her in his arms—this lady hitherto so brave and daunted now by the + fear of his peril only. Every fibre of his being urged him to gather her + to his breast, whilst he poured courage and comfort into her ear. He + fainted almost with desire to kiss those tender eyes, upturned to his in + her piteous pleading that he should not endanger his own life. But + suppressing all, he only smiled, though very tenderly. + </p> + <p> + “Be brave, Madonna, and trust in me a little. Have I failed you yet? Need + you then fear that I shall fail you now?” + </p> + <p> + At that she seemed to gather courage. The words reawakened her confidence + in his splendid strength. + </p> + <p> + “We shall laugh over this when we break our fast,” he cried. “Come, + Ercole!” And without waiting for more, he leapt down the steps with an + agility surprising in one so heavily armed as he. + </p> + <p> + They were no more than in time. As they gained the courtyard the men came + sweeping along towards the gates, their voices raucous and threatening. + They were full of assurance. All hell they thought could not have hindered + them, and yet at sight of that tall figure, bright as an angel, in his + panoply of glittering steel, with that great sword poised on his left + shoulder, some of the impetuousness seemed to fall from them. + </p> + <p> + Still they advanced, Cappoccio's voice shouting encouragement. Almost were + they within range of that lengthy sword, when of a sudden it flashed from + his shoulder, and swept a half-circle of dazzling light before their eyes. + Round his head it went, and back again before them, handled as though it + had been a whip, and bringing them, silent, to a standstill. He bore it + back to his shoulder, and alert for the first movement, his blood on fire, + and ready to slay a man or two should the example become necessary, he + addressed them. + </p> + <p> + “You see what awaits you if you persist in this,” he said, in a + dangerously quiet voice. “Have you no shame, you herd of cowardly animals! + You are loud-voiced enough where treason to the hand that pays you is in + question; but there, it seems, your valour ends.” + </p> + <p> + He spoke to them now in burning words. He recapitulated the arguments + which yesterday he had made use of to quell the mutinous spirit of + Cappoccio. He assured them that Gian Maria threatened more than he could + accomplish; and so, perhaps, more than he would fulfil if they were so + foolish as to place themselves in his power. Their safety, he pointed out + to them, lay here, behind these walls. The siege could not long endure. + They had a stout ally in Caesar Borgia, and he was marching upon Babbiano + by then, so that Gian Maria must get him home perforce ere long. Their pay + was good, he reminded them, and if the siege were soon raised they should + be well rewarded. + </p> + <p> + “Gian Maria threatens to hang you when he captures Roccaleone. But even + should he capture it, do you think he would be allowed to carry out so + inhuman a threat? You are mercenaries, after all, in the pay of Monna + Valentina, on whom and her captains the blame must fall. This is Urbino, + not Babbiano, and Gian Maria is not master here. Do you think the noble + and magnanimous Guidobaldo would let you hang? Have you so poor an opinion + of your Duke? Fools! You are as safe from violence as are those ladies in + the gallery up there. For Guidobaldo would no more think of harming you + than of permitting harm to come to them. If any hanging there is it will + be for me, and perhaps for Messer Gonzaga who hired you. Yet, do I talk of + throwing down my arms? What think you holds me here? Interest—just + as interest holds you—and if I think the risk worth taking, why + should not you? Are you so tame and so poor-spirited that a threat is to + vanquish you? Will you become a byword in Italy, and when men speak of + cowardice, will you have them say: 'Craven as Monna Valentina's + garrison'?” + </p> + <p> + In this strain he talked to them, now smiting hard with his scorn, now + cajoling them with his assurances, and breeding confidence anew in their + shaken spirits. It was a thing that went afterwards to the making of an + epic that was sung from Calabria to Piedmont, how this brave knight, by + his words, by the power of his will and the might of his presence, curbed + and subdued that turbulent score of rebellious hinds. + </p> + <p> + And from the wall above Valentina watched him, her eyes sparkling with + tears that had not their source in sorrow nor yet in fear, for she knew + that he must prevail. How could it be else with one so dauntless? + </p> + <p> + Thus thought she now. But in the moment of his going, fear had chilled her + to the heart, and when she first saw him take his stand before them, she + had turned half-distraught, and begged Gonzaga not to linger at her side, + but to go lend what aid he could to that brave knight who stood so sorely + in need of it. And Gonzaga had smiled a smile as pale as January sunshine, + and his soft blue eyes had hardened in their glance. Not weakness now was + it that held him there, well out of the dangerous turmoil. For he felt + that had he possessed the strength of Hercules, and the courage of + Achilles, he would not in that instant have moved a step to Francesco's + aid. And as much he told her. + </p> + <p> + “Why should I, Madonna?” he had returned coldly. “Why should I raise a + hand to help the man whom you prefer to me? Why should I draw sword in the + cause of this fortress?” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him with troubled eyes. “What are you saying, my good + Gonzaga?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye—your good Gonzaga!” he mocked her bitterly. “Your lap-dog, your + lute-thrummer; but not man enough to be your captain; not man enough to + earn a thought that is kinder than any earned by Peppe or your hounds. I + may endanger my neck to serve you, to bring you hither to a place of + safety from Gian Maria's persecution, and be cast aside for one who, it + happens, has a little more knowledge of this coarse trade of arms. Cast me + aside if you will,” he pursued, with increasing bitterness, “but having + done so, do not ask me to serve you again. Let Messer Francesco fight it + out——” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, Gonzaga!” she interrupted. “Let me hear what he is saying.” + </p> + <p> + And her tone told the courtier that his words had been lost upon the + morning air. Engrossed in the scene below she had not so much as listened + to his bitter tirade. For now Francesco was behaving oddly. The fool was + returned from the errand on which he had been despatched, and Francesco + called him to his side. Lowering his sword he received a paper from + Peppe's hand. + </p> + <p> + Burning with indignation at having gone unheeded, Gonzaga stood gnawing + his lip, whilst Valentina craned forward to catch Francesco's words. + </p> + <p> + “I have here a proof,” he cried, “of what I tell you; proof of how little + Gian Maria is prepared to carry out his threats of cannon. It is that + fellow Cappoccio has seduced you with his talk. And you, like the sheep + you are, let yourselves be driven by his foul tongue. Now listen to the + bribe that Gian Maria offers to one within these walls if he can contrive + a means to deliver Roccaleone into his hands.” And to Gonzaga's paralysing + consternation, he heard Francesco read the letter with which Gian Maria + had answered his proposed betrayal of the fortress. He went white with + fear and he leant against the low wall to steady the tell-tale trembling + that had seized him. Then Francesco's voice, scornful and confident, + floated up to his ears. “I ask you, my friends, would his Highness of + Babbiano be disposed to the payment of a thousand gold florins if by + bombardment he thought to break a way into Roccaleone? This letter was + written yesterday. Since then we have made a brave display of cannon + ourselves; and if yesterday he dared not fire, think you he will to-day? + But here, assure yourselves, if there is one amongst you that can read.” + </p> + <p> + He held out the letter to them. Cappoccio took it, and calling one + Aventano, he held it out in his turn. This Aventano, a youth who had been + partly educated for the Church, but had fallen from that lofty purpose, + now stood forward and took the letter. He scrutinised it, read it aloud, + and pronounced it genuine. + </p> + <p> + “Whom is it addressed to?” demanded Cappoccio. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, nay!” cried Francesco. “What need for that?” + </p> + <p> + “Let be,” Cappoccio answered, almost fiercely. “If you would have us + remain in Roccaleone, let be. Aventano, tell me.” + </p> + <p> + “To Messer Romeo Gonzaga,” answered the youth, in a voice of wonder. + </p> + <p> + So evil a light leapt to Cappoccio's eye that Francesco carried his free + hand to the sword which he had lowered. But Cappoccio only looked up at + Gonzaga, and grinned malevolently. It had penetrated his dull wits that he + had been the tool of a judas, who sought to sell the castle for a thousand + florins. Further than that Cappoccio did not see; nor was he very + resentful, and his grin was rather of mockery than of anger. He was + troubled by no lofty notions of honour that should cause him to see in + this deed of Gonzaga's anything more than such a trickster's act as it is + always agreeable to foil. And then, to the others, who knew naught of what + was passing in Cappoccio's mind, he did a mighty strange thing. From being + the one to instigate them to treachery and mutiny, he was the one now to + raise his voice in a stout argument of loyalty. He agreed with all that + Messer Francesco had said, and he, for one, ranged himself on Messer + Francesco's side to defend the gates from any traitors who sought to open + them to Gian Maria Sforza. + </p> + <p> + His defection from the cause of mutiny was the signal for the utter + abandoning of that cause itself, and another stout ally came opportunely + to weigh in Francesco's favour was the fact that the half-hour of grace + was now elapsed, and Gian Maria's guns continued silent. He drew their + attention to the fact with a laugh, and bade them go in peace, adding the + fresh assurance that those guns would not speak that day, nor the next, + nor indeed ever. + </p> + <p> + Utterly conquered by Francesco and—perhaps even more—by his + unexpected ally, Cappoccio, they slunk shamefacedly away to the food and + drink that he bade them seek at Fra Domenico's hands. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX. THE LOVERS + </h2> + <p> + “How came that letter to your hands?” Valentina asked Gonzaga, when + presently they stood together in the courtyard, whither the courtier had + followed her when she descended. + </p> + <p> + “Wrapped round an arbalest-bolt that fell on the ramparts yesterday whilst + I was walking there alone,” returned Gonzaga coolly. + </p> + <p> + He had by now regained his composure. He saw that he stood in deadly + peril, and the very fear that possessed him seemed, by an odd paradox, to + lend him the strength to play his part. + </p> + <p> + Valentina eyed him with a something of mistrust in her glance. But on + Francesco's clear countenance no shadow of suspicion showed. His eyes + almost smiled as he asked Gonzaga: + </p> + <p> + “Why did you not bear it to Monna Valentina?” + </p> + <p> + A flush reddened the courtier's cheeks. He shrugged his shoulders + impatiently, and in a voice that choked with anger he delivered his reply. + </p> + <p> + “To you, sir, who seem bred in camps and reared in guard-rooms, the + fulness of this insult offered me by Gian Maria may not be apparent. It + may not be yours to perceive that the very contact of that letter soiled + my hands, that it shamed me unutterably to think that that loutish Duke + should have deemed me a target for such a shaft. It were idle, therefore, + to seek to make you understand how little I could bear to submit to the + further shame of allowing another to see the affront that I was powerless + to avenge. I did, sir, with that letter the only thing conceivable. I + crumpled it in my hand and cast it from me, just as I sought to cast its + contents from my mind. But your watchful spies, Ser Francesco, bore it to + you, and if my shame has been paraded before the eyes of that rabble + soldiery, at least it has served the purpose of saving Monna Valentina. To + do that, I would, if the need arose, immolate more than the pride that + caused me to be silent on the matter of this communication.” + </p> + <p> + He spoke with such heat of sincerity that he convinced both Francesco and + Valentina, and the lady's eyes took on a softer expression as she surveyed + Gonzaga—this poor Gonzaga whom, her heart told her, she had sorely + wronged in thought. Francesco, ever generous, took his passionate + utterances in excellent part. + </p> + <p> + “Messer Gonzaga, I understand your scruples. You do me wrong to think that + I should fail in that.” + </p> + <p> + He checked the suggestion he was on the point of renewing that, + nevertheless, Gonzaga would have been better advised to have laid that + letter at once before Monna Valentina. Instead, he dismissed the subject + with a laugh, and proposed that they should break their fast so soon as he + had put off his harness. + </p> + <p> + He went to do so, whilst Valentina bent her steps towards the dining-room, + attended by Gonzaga, to whom she now sought to make amends for her + suspicions by an almost excessive friendliness of bearing. + </p> + <p> + But there was one whom Gonzaga's high-sounding words in connection with + that letter had left cold. This was Peppe, that most wise of fools. He + hastened after Francesco, and while the knight was disarming he came to + voice his suspicions. But Francesco drove him out with impatience, and + Peppe went sorrowing and swearing that the wisdom of the fool was truly + better than the folly of the wise. + </p> + <p> + Throughout that day Gonzaga hardly stirred from Valentina's side. He + talked with her in the morning at great length and upon subjects poetical + or erudite, by which he meant to display his vast mental superiority over + the swashbuckling Francesco. In the evening, when the heat of the day was + spent, and whilst that same Messer Francesco was at some defensive + measures on the walls, Gonzaga played at bowls with Valentina and her + ladies—the latter having now recovered from the panic to which + earlier they had been a prey. + </p> + <p> + That morning Gonzaga had stood at bay, seeing his plans crumble. That + evening, after the day spent in Valentina's company—and she so sweet + and kind to him—he began to take heart of grace once more, and his + volatile mind whispered to his soul the hope that, after all, things might + well be as he had first intended, if he but played his cards adroitly, and + did not mar his chances by the precipitancy that had once gone near to + losing him. His purpose gathered strength from a message that came that + evening from Gian Maria, who was by then assured that Gonzaga's plan had + failed. He sent word that, being unwilling to provoke the bloodshed + threatened by the reckless madman who called himself Monna Valentina's + Provost, he would delay the bombardment, hoping that in the meantime + hunger would beget in that rebellious garrison a more submissive mood. + </p> + <p> + Francesco read the message to Madonna's soldiers, and they received it + joyously. Their confidence in him increased a hundredfold by this proof of + the accuracy of his foresight. They were a gay company at supper in + consequence, and gayest of all was Messer Gonzaga, most bravely dressed in + a purple suit of taby silk to honour so portentous an occasion. + </p> + <p> + Francesco was the first to quit the table, craving Monna Valentina's leave + to be about some duty that took him to the walls. She let him go, and + afterwards sat pensive, nor heeded now Romeo's light chatter, nor yet the + sonnet of Petrarca that presently he sang the company. Her thoughts were + all with him that had left the board. Scarcely a word had she exchanged + with Francesco since that delirious moment when they had looked into each + other's eyes upon the ramparts, and seen the secret that each was keeping + from the other. Why had he not come to her? she asked herself. And then + she bethought her of how Gonzaga had all day long been glued to her side, + and she realised, too, that it was she had shunned Francesco's company, + grown of a sudden strangely shy. + </p> + <p> + But greater than her shyness was now her desire to be near him, and to + hear his voice; to have him look again upon her as he had looked that + morning, when in terror for him she had sought to dissuade him from + opposing the craven impulse of her men-at-arms. A woman of mature age, or + one riper in experience, would have waited for him to seek her out. But + Valentina, in her sweet naturalness, thought never of subterfuge or of + dalliant wiles. She rose quietly from the table ere Gonzaga's song was + done, and as quietly she slipped from the room. + </p> + <p> + It was a fine night, the air heavy with the vernal scent of fertile lands, + and the deep cobalt of the heavens a glittering, star-flecked dome in a + lighter space of which floated the half-disk of the growing moon. Such a + moon, she bethought her, as she had looked at with thoughts of him, the + night after their brief meeting at Acquasparta. She had gained that north + rampart on which he had announced that duty took him, and yonder she saw a + man—-the only tenant of the wall—leaning upon the embattled + parapet, looking down at the lights of Gian Maria's camp. He was + bareheaded, and by the gold coif that gleamed in his hair she knew him. + Softly she stole up behind him. + </p> + <p> + “Do we dream here, Messer Francesco?” she asked him, as she reached his + side, and there was laughter running through her words. + </p> + <p> + He started round at the sound of her voice, then he laughed too, softly + and gladly. + </p> + <p> + “It is a night for dreams, and I was dreaming indeed. But you have + scattered them.” + </p> + <p> + “You grieve me,” she rallied him. “For assuredly they were pleasant, + since, to come here and indulge them, you left—us.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye—they were pleasant,” he answered. “And yet, they were fraught + with a certain sadness, but idle as is the stuff of dreams. They were + yours to dispel, for they were of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Of me?” she questioned, her heart-beats quickening and bringing to her + cheeks a flush that she thanked the night for concealing. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Madonna—of you and our first meeting in the woods at + Acquasparta. Do you recall it?” + </p> + <p> + “I do, I do,” she murmured fondly. + </p> + <p> + “And do you recall how I then swore myself your knight and ever your + champion? Little did we dream how the honour that I sighed for was to be + mine.” + </p> + <p> + She made him no answer, her mind harking back to that first meeting on + which so often and so fondly she had pondered. + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking, too,” he said presently, “of that man Gian Maria in the + plain yonder, and of this shameful siege.” + </p> + <p> + “You—you have no misgivings?” she faltered, for his words had + disappointed her a little. + </p> + <p> + “Misgivings?” + </p> + <p> + “For being here with me. For being implicated in what they call my + rebellion?” + </p> + <p> + He laughed softly, his eyes upon the silver gleam of waters below. + </p> + <p> + “My misgivings are all for the time when this siege shall be ended; when + you and I shall have gone each our separate way,” he answered boldly. He + turned to face her now, and his voice rang a little tense. “But for being + here to guide this fine resistance and lend you the little aid I can—— + No, no, I have no misgiving for that. It is the dearest frolic ever my + soldiering led me into. I came to Roccaleone with a message of warning; + but underneath, deep down in my heart, I bore the hope that mine should be + more than a messenger's part; that mine it might be to remain by you and + do such work as I am doing.” + </p> + <p> + “Without you they would have forced me by now to surrender.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps they would. But while I am here I do not think they will. I burn + for news of Babbiano. If I could but tell what is happening there I might + cheer you with the assurance that this siege can last but a few days + longer. Gian Maria must get him home or submit to the loss of his throne. + And if he loses that your uncle would no longer support so strenuously his + suit with you. To you, Madonna, this must be a cheering thought. To me—alas! + Why should I hope for it?” + </p> + <p> + He was looking away now into the night, but his voice quivered with the + emotion that was in him. She was silent, and emboldened perhaps by that + silence of hers, encouraged by the memory of what he had seen that morning + reflected in her eyes: + </p> + <p> + “Madonna,” he cried, “I would it might be mine to cut a road for you + through that besieging camp, and bear you away to some blessed place where + there are neither courts nor princes. But since this may not be, Madonna + mia, I would that this siege might last for ever.” + </p> + <p> + And then—was it the night breeze faintly stirring through his hair + that mocked him with the whisper, “So indeed would I?” He turned to her, + his hand, brown and nervous, fell upon hers, ivory-white, where it rested + on the stone. + </p> + <p> + “Valentina!” he cried, his voice no louder than a whisper, his eyes + ardently seeking her averted ones. And then, as suddenly as it had leapt + up, was the fire in his glance extinguished. He withdrew his hand from + hers, he sighed, and shifted his gaze to the camp once more. “Forgive, + forget, Madonna,” he murmured bitterly, “that which in my madness I have + presumed.” + </p> + <p> + Silent she stood for a long moment; then she edged nearer to him, and her + voice murmured back: “What if I account it no presumption?” + </p> + <p> + With a gasp he swung round to face her, and they stood very close, glance + holding glance, and hers the less timid of the two. They thus remained for + a little space. Then shaking his head and speaking with an infinite + sadness: + </p> + <p> + “It were better that you did, Madonna,” he made answer. + </p> + <p> + “Better? But why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I am no duke, Madonna.” + </p> + <p> + “And what of that?” she cried, to add with scorn: “Out yonder sits a duke. + Oh, sir, how shall I account presumptuous in you the very words that I + would hear? What does your rank signify to me? I know you for the truest + knight, the noblest gentleman, and the most valiant friend that ever came + to the aid of distressed maiden. Do you forget the very principles that + have led me to make this resistance? That I am a woman, and ask of life no + more than is a woman's due—and no less.” + </p> + <p> + There she stopped; again the blood suffused her cheeks as she bethought + her of how fast she talked, and of how bold her words might sound. She + turned slightly from him, and leant now upon the parapet, gazing out into + the night. And as she stood thus, a very ardent voice it was that + whispered in her ear: + </p> + <p> + “Valentina, by my soul, I love you!” And there that whisper, which filled + her with an ecstasy that was almost painful in its poignancy, ended + sharply as if throttled. Again his hand sought hers, which was yielded to + him as she would have yielded her whole life at his sweet bidding, and now + his voice came less passionately. + </p> + <p> + “Why delude ourselves with cruel hopes, my Valentina?” he was saying. + “There is the future. There is the time when this siege shall be done + with, and when, Gian Maria having got him home, you will be free to + depart. Whither will you go?” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him as if she did not understand the question, and her eyes + were troubled, although in such light as there was he could scarce see + this. + </p> + <p> + “I will go whither you bid me. Where else have I to go?” she added, with a + note of bitterness. + </p> + <p> + He started. Her answer was so far from what he had expected. + </p> + <p> + “But your uncle——?” + </p> + <p> + “What duty do I owe to him? Oh, I have thought of it, and until—until + this morning, it seemed that a convent must be my ultimate refuge. I have + spent most of my young life at Santa Sofia, and the little that I have + seen of the world at my uncle's court scarce invites me to see more of it. + The Mother Abbess loved me a little. She would take me back, unless——” + </p> + <p> + She broke off and looked at him, and before that look of absolute and + sweet surrender his senses swam. That she was niece to the Duke of Urbino + he remembered no more than that he was Count of Aquila, well-born, but of + none too rich estate, and certainly no more a match for her in + Guidobaldo's eyes than if he had been the simple knight-errant that he + seemed. + </p> + <p> + He moved closer to her, his hands—as if obeying a bidding greater + than his will, the bidding of that glance of hers, perhaps—took her + by the shoulders, whilst his whole soul looked at her from his eyes. Then, + with a stifled cry, he caught her to him. For a moment she lay, palpitant, + within his arms, her tall, bronze head on a level with his chin, her heart + beating against his heart. Stooping suddenly, he kissed her on the lips. + She suffered it with an unresistance that invited. But when it was done, + she gently put him from her; and he, obedient to her slightest wish, + curbed the wild ardour of his mood, and set her free. + </p> + <p> + “Anima mia!” he cried rapturously. “You are mine now, betide what may. Not + Gian Maria nor all the dukes in Christendom shall take you from me.” + </p> + <p> + She set her hand upon his lips to silence him, and he kissed the palm, so + that laughing she drew back again. And now from laughter she passed to a + great solemnity, and with arm outstretched towards the ducal camp: “Win me + a way through those lines,” said she, “and bear me away from Urbino—far + away where Guidobaldo's power and the vengeance of Gian Maria may not + follow us—and you shall have won me for your own. But until then, + let there be a truce to—to this, between us. Here is a man's work to + be done, and if I am weak as to-night, I may weaken you, and then we + should both be undone. It is upon your strength I count, Franceschino mio, + my true knight.” + </p> + <p> + He would have answered her. He had much to tell her—who and what he + was. But she pointed to the head of the steps, where a man's figure + loomed. + </p> + <p> + “Yonder comes the sentinel,” she said. “Leave me now, dear Francesco. Go. + It is growing late.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed low before her, obedient ever, like the true knight he was, and + took his leave of her, his soul on fire. + </p> + <p> + Valentina watched his retreating figure until it had vanished round the + angle of the wall. Then with a profound sigh, that was as a prayer of + thanksgiving for this great good that had come into her life, she leaned + upon the parapet and looked out into the darkness, her cheeks flushed, her + heart still beating high. She laughed softly to herself out of the pure + happiness of her mood. The camp of Gian Maria became a subject for her + scorn. What should his might avail whilst she had such a champion to + defend her now and hereafter? + </p> + <p> + There was an irony in that siege on which her fancy fastened. By coming + thus in arms against her Gian Maria sought to win her for his wife; yet + all that he had accomplished was to place her in the arms of the one man + whom she had learnt to love by virtue of this very siege. The mellow + warmth of the night, the ambient perfume of the fields were well-sorted to + her mood, and the faint breeze that breathed caressingly upon her cheek + seemed to re-echo the melodies her heart was giving forth. In that hour + those old grey walls of Roccaleone seemed to enclose for her a very + paradise, and the snatch of an old love song stole softly from her parted + lips. But like a paradise—alas!—it had its snake that crept up + unheard behind her, and was presently hissing in her ear. And its voice + was the voice of Romeo Gonzaga. + </p> + <p> + “It comforts me, Madonna, that there is one, at least, in Roccaleone has + the heart to sing.” + </p> + <p> + Startled out of her happy pensiveness by that smooth and now unutterably + sinister voice, she turned to face its owner. + </p> + <p> + She saw the white gleam of his face and something of the anger that + smouldered in his eye, and despite herself a thrill of alarm ran through + her like a shudder. She looked beyond him to a spot where lately she had + seen the sentry. There was no one there nor anywhere upon that wall. They + were alone, and Messer Gonzaga looked singularly evil. + </p> + <p> + For a moment there was a tense silence, broken only by the tumbling waters + of the torrent-moat and the hoarse challenge of a sentry's “Chi va lĂ ?” in + Gian Maria's camp. Then she turned nervously, wondering how much he might + have heard of what had passed between herself and Francesco, how much have + seen. + </p> + <p> + “And yet, Gonzaga,” she answered him, “I left you singing below when I + came away.” + </p> + <p> + “—To wanton it here in the moonlight with that damned swashbuckler, + that brigand, that kennel-bred beast of a sbirro!” + </p> + <p> + “Gonzaga! You would dare!” + </p> + <p> + “Dare?” he mocked her, beside himself with passion. “Is it you who speak + of daring—you, the niece of Guidobaldo da Montefeltro, a lady of the + noble and illustrious house of Rovere, who cast yourself into the arms of + a low-born vassal such as that, a masnadiero, a bandit, a bravo? And can + you yet speak of daring, and take that tone with me, when shame should + strike you either dead or dumb?” + </p> + <p> + “Gonzaga,” she answered him, her face as white as his own, but her voice + steady and hard with anger, “leave me now—upon the instant, or I + will have you flogged—flogged to the bone.” + </p> + <p> + A moment he stared at her like a man dazed. Then he tossed his arms to + Heaven, and letting them fall heavily to his sides, he shrugged his + shoulders and laughed evilly. But of going he made no shift. + </p> + <p> + “Call your men,” he answered her, in a choking voice. “Do your will on me. + Flog me to the bone or to the death—let that be the reward of all + that I have done, all that I have risked, all that I have sacrificed to + serve you. It were of a piece with your other actions.” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes sought his in the gloom, her bosom heaving wildly in her + endeavours to master herself before she spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Messer Gonzaga,” said she at last, “I'll not deny that you served me + faithfully in the matter of my escape from Urbino——” + </p> + <p> + “Why speak of it?” he sneered. “It was a service of which you but avail + yourself until another offered on whom you might bestow your favour and + the supreme command of your fortress. Why speak of it?” + </p> + <p> + “To show you that the service you allude to is now paid,” she riposted + sternly. “By reproaching me you have taken payment, and by insulting me + you have stamped out my gratitude.” + </p> + <p> + “A most convenient logic yours,” he mocked. “I am cast aside like an + outworn garment, and the garment is accounted paid for because through + much hard usage it has come to look a little threadbare.” + </p> + <p> + And now it entered her mind that perhaps there was some justice in what he + said. Perhaps she had used him a little hardly. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think, Gonzaga,” she said, and her tone was now a shade more + gentle, “that because you have served me you may affront me, and that + knight who has served me, also, and——” + </p> + <p> + “In what can such service as his compare with mine? What has he done that + I have not done more?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, when the men rebelled here——” + </p> + <p> + “Bah! Cite me not that. Body of God! it is his trade to lead such swine. + He is one of themselves. But for the rest, what has such a man as this to + lose by his share in your rebellion, compared with such a loss as mine + must be?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, if things go ill, I take it he may lose his life,” she answered, in + a low voice. “Can you lose more?” + </p> + <p> + He made a gesture of impatience. + </p> + <p> + “If things go ill—yes. It may cost him dearly. But if they go well, + and this siege is raised, he has nothing more to fear. Mine is a parlous + case. However ends this siege, for me there will be no escape from the + vengeance of Gian Maria and Guidobaldo. They know my share in it. They + know that your action was helped by me, and that without me you could + never have equipped yourself for such resistance. Whatever may betide you + and this Ser Franceseo, for me there will be no escape.” + </p> + <p> + She drew a deep breath, then set him the obvious question: + </p> + <p> + “Did you not consider it—did you not weigh these chances—before + you embarked upon this business, before you, yourself, urged me to this + step?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, did I,” he answered sullenly. + </p> + <p> + “Then, why these complaints now?” + </p> + <p> + He was singularly, madly frank with her in his reply. He told her that he + had done it because he loved her, because she had given him signs that his + love was not in vain. + </p> + <p> + “I gave you signs?” she interrupted him. “Mother in Heaven! Recite these + signs that I may know them.” + </p> + <p> + “Were you not ever kind to me?” he demanded. “Did you not ever manifest a + liking for my company? Were you not ever pleased that I should sing to you + the songs that in your honour I had made? Was it not to me you turned in + the hour of your need?” + </p> + <p> + “See now how poor a thing you are, Gonzaga?” she answered witheringly. “A + woman may not smile on you, may not give you a kind word, may not suffer + you to sing to her, but you must conclude she is enamoured of you. And if + I turned to you in my hour of need, as you remind me, needs that be a sign + of my infatuation? Does every cavalier so think when a helpless woman + turns to him in her distress? But even so,” she continued, “how should all + that diminish the peril you now talk of? Even were your suit with me to + prosper, would that make you any the less Romeo Gonzaga, the butt of the + anger of my uncle and Gian Maria? Rather do I think that it should make + you more.” + </p> + <p> + But he disillusioned her. He did not scruple, in his angry mood, to lay + before her his reasonings that as her husband he would be screened. + </p> + <p> + She laughed aloud at that. + </p> + <p> + “And so it is by such sophistries as these that your presumption came to + life?” + </p> + <p> + That stung him. Quivering with the passion that obsessed him, he stepped + close up to her. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, Madonna—why shall we account presumption in Romeo Gonzaga + a suit that in a nameless adventurer we encourage?” he asked, his voice + thick and tremulous. + </p> + <p> + “Have a care,” she bade him. + </p> + <p> + “A care of what?” he flashed back. “Answer me, Monna Valentina. Am I so + base a man that by the very thought of love for you I must presume, whilst + you can give yourself into the arms of this swashbuckling bravo, and take + his kisses? Your reasoning sorts ill with your deeds.” + </p> + <p> + “Craven!” she answered him. “Dog that you are!” And before the blaze of + passion in her eyes he recoiled, his courage faltering. She cropped her + anger in mid-career, and in a dangerously calm voice she bade him see to + it that by morning he was no longer in Roccaleone. “Profit by the night,” + she counselled him, “and escape the vigilance of Gian Maria as best you + can. Here you shall not stay.” + </p> + <p> + At that a great fear took possession of him, putting to flight the last + remnant of his anger. Nor fear alone was it, to do him full justice. It + was also the realisation that if he would take payment from her for this + treatment of him, if he would slake his vengeance, he must stay. One plan + had failed him. But his mind was fertile, and he might devise another that + might succeed and place Gian Maria in Roccaleone. Thus should he be amply + venged. She was turning away, having pronounced his banishment, but he + sprang after her, and upon his knees he now besought her piteously to hear + him yet awhile. + </p> + <p> + And she, regretting her already of her harshness, and thinking that + perhaps in his jealousy he had been scarce responsible for what he had + said, stood still to hear him. + </p> + <p> + “Not that, not that, Madonna,” he wailed, his tone suggesting the + imminence of tears. “Do not send me away. If die I must, let me die here + at Roccaleone, helping the defence to my last breath. But do not cast me + out to fall into the hands of Gian Maria. He will hang me for my share in + this business. Do not requite me thus, Madonna. You owe me a little, + surely, and if I was mad when I talked to you just now, it was love of you + that drove me—love of you and suspicion of that man of whom none of + us know anything. Madonna, be pitiful a little. Suffer me to remain.” + </p> + <p> + She looked down at him, her mind swayed between pity and contempt. Then + pity won the day in the wayward but ever gentle heart of Valentina. She + bade him rise. + </p> + <p> + “And go, Gonzaga. Get you to bed, and sleep you into a saner frame of + mind. We will forget all this that you have said, so that you never speak + of it again—nor of this love you say you bear me.” + </p> + <p> + The hypocrite caught the hem of her cloak, and bore it to his lips. + </p> + <p> + “May God keep your heart ever as pure and noble and forgiving,” he + murmured brokenly. “I know how little I am deserving of your clemency. But + I shall repay you, Madonna,” he protested—and truly meant it, though + not in the sense it seemed. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI. THE PENITENT + </h2> + <p> + A week passed peacefully at Roccaleone; so peacefully that it was + difficult to conceive that out there in the plain sat Gian Maria with his + five-score men besieging them. + </p> + <p> + This inaction fretted the Count of Aquila, as did the lack of news from + Fanfulla; and he wondered vaguely what might be taking place at Babbiano + that Gian Maria should be content to sit idly before them, as though he + had months at his disposal in which to starve them into yielding. The + mystery would have been dispelled had he known that he had Gonzaga to + thank for this singular patience of Gian Maria's. For the courtier had + found occasion to send another letter-carrying shaft into the Duke's camp, + informing him of how and why the last plot had failed, and urging Gian + Maria to wait and trust in him to devise a better scheme for delivering + the castle into his power. He had promised boldly and confidently enough, + and Gian Maria—facts showed—had trusted to that promise of + his, and awaited its fulfilment. But tax his mind though he did + incessantly, no inspiration came to him, no scheme suggested itself by + which he might accomplish his treacherous purpose. + </p> + <p> + He employed the time cunningly to win back Valentina's favour and + confidence. On the morning after his stormy interview with Guidobaldo's + niece, he had confessed himself to Fra Domenico, and approached the + Sacrament. Every morning thereafter he appeared at Mass, and by the piety + and fervour of his devotions became an example to all the others. Now this + was not lost on Valentina, who was convent-bred, and in a measure devout. + She read in this singular alteration of his ways the undoubtable + indication of an altered character. That he had approached the Sacrament + on the morning after his wild words to her, she took to mean that he + repented him the viciousness of the animosity he had entertained that he + continued so extremely devout thereafter she construed into meaning that + his repentance was sincere and persistent. + </p> + <p> + And so she came to ask herself whether, indeed, he had not been as much + sinned against as sinning, and she ended by assuring herself that in a + measure the fault was hers. Seeing him so penitent, and concluding from it + that he was not likely to transgress again, she readmitted him to her + favour, and, little by little, the old friendly state was re-established + and was the sounder, perhaps, by virtue of her confidence that after what + had passed he would not again misunderstand her. + </p> + <p> + He did not, nor did he again allow his optimism and ever-ready vanity to + cozen him with false hopes. He read her with exact precision, and whilst + the reading but served to embitter him the more and render him more + steadfast in his vengeful purpose, it, nevertheless, made him smile the + more sweetly and fawn the more obsequiously. + </p> + <p> + And not content with this, he did not limit his sycophancy to Valentina, + but sought also by a smiling persistence to ingratiate himself with + Francesco. No voice in Roccaleone—not even that of the bully Ercole—was + raised more often or more enthusiastically to praise and glorify their + Provost. Valentina, observing this, and accepting it as another sign of + his contrition for the past and purpose of amendment for the future, grew + yet more cordial towards him. He was not lacking in astuteness, this + pretty Ser Romeo, nor in knowledge of a woman's heart, and the + apprehension of the fact that there is no flattery she prefers to that + which has for object the man she loves. + </p> + <p> + Thus did Gonzaga conquer the confidence and esteem of all during that + peaceful week. He seemed a changed man, and all save Peppe saw in this + change a matter for increased trust and friendship towards him. But the + astute fool looked on and pondered. Such transformations as these were not + effected in a night. He was no believer in any human chrysalis that shall + make of the grub of yesterday the butterfly of to-day. And so, in this + fawning, smiling, subservient Gonzaga, he saw nothing but an object of + mistrust, a fellow to be watched with the utmost vigilance. To this + vigilance the hunchback applied himself with a zeal born of his cordial + detestation of the courtier. But Gonzaga, aware of the fool's mistrust and + watchfulness, contrived for once to elude him, and to get a letter to Gian + Maria setting forth the ingenious plan he had hatched. + </p> + <p> + The notion had come to him that Sunday at Mass. On all sanctified days it + was Monna Valentina's way to insist that the entire garrison, with the + exception of one single sentinel—and this only at Francesco's very + earnest urging—should attend the morning service. Like an + inspiration it came to him that such a half-hour as that would be a most + opportune season in which to throw open the gates of Roccaleone to the + besiegers. The following Wednesday was the feast of Corpus Christi. Then + would be his opportunity. + </p> + <p> + Kneeling there, with head bent in ecstatic devotion, he matured his + treacherous plan. The single sentry he could suborn, or else—if + bribery failed—poniard. He realised that single-handed he might not + lower the cumbrous drawbridge, nor would it be wise, even if possible, for + the noise of it might give the alarm. But there was the postern. Gian + Maria must construct him a light, portable bridge, and have it in + readiness to span the moat and silently pour his soldiers into the castle + through that little gate. + </p> + <p> + And so, the plot matured and every detail clear, he got him to his chamber + and penned the letter that was to rejoice the heart of Gian Maria. He + chose a favourable moment to despatch it, as he had despatched the former + ones, tied about the quarrel of an arbalest, and he saw Gian Maria's + signal—for which the letter had provided—that the plan would + be adopted. Humming a gay measure, jubilant at the prospect of seeing + himself so amply avenged, Gonzaga passed down and out into the castle + gardens to join the ladies in their merry-making over a game of hoodman + blind. + </p> + <p> + Now, however much the Duke of Babbiano may have congratulated himself upon + the ally he possessed in Gonzaga, and the cunning scheme the latter had + devised for placing him in possession of Roccaleone, there came news to + him on the morrow that caused him to rejoice a hundredfold more fervently. + His subjects of Babbiano were in a condition approaching open rebellion, + resulting from the disquieting rumours that Caesar Borgia was arming at + Rome for a decent upon the Duchy, and the continued absence of Gian Maria + in such a season, upon a wooing that they deemed ill-timed. A strong party + had been formed, and the leaders had nailed upon the Palace gates a + proclamation that, unless Gian Maria returned within three days to + organise the defence of Babbiano, they would depose him and repair to + Aquila to invite his cousin, Francesco del Falco—whose patriotism + and military skill were known to all—to assume the crown of Babbiano + and protect them. + </p> + <p> + At the news, and upon reading the proclamation, which Alvari had brought + with him, Gian Maria flew into one of those fits of rage that made his + name a byword in Babbiano. Presently, however, he cooled. There was + Gonzaga yonder, who had promised to admit him to Roccaleone on Wednesday. + That left him time to first possess himself of his reluctant bride, and + then ride hard to Babbiano, to arrive there before the expiry of the three + days' grace his subjects gave him. + </p> + <p> + He conferred with Guidobaldo, and urged that a priest should be in waiting + to wed them so soon as he should have brought her out of the fortress. + Upon that detail they were within an ace of quarrelling. Guidobaldo would + not at first agree to such hasty nuptials; they were unfitting the dignity + and the station of his niece, and if Gian Maria would wed her he must come + to Urbino and let the ceremony be performed by a cardinal. Well was it + then for Gian Maria that he mastered his wonted hastiness and curbed the + hot, defiant retort that rose to his lips. Had he done so, an enduring + rupture between them would probably have ensued; for Guidobaldo was not + one to permit himself to be hectored, and, after all, he amply realised + that Gian Maria had more need of him than he of Gian Maria. And this in + that moment the Duke of Babbiano realised too, and realising it he set + himself to plead where otherwise he might have demanded, to beg as a + favour that which otherwise he might have commanded with a threat. And so + he won Guidobaldo—although reluctant—to his wishes in the + matter, and in his good-nature the Duke of Urbino consented to pocket the + dignity that prompted him to see the ceremony performed with princely + pomp. + </p> + <p> + This being settled, Gian Maria blessed Gonzaga who rendered it all + possible, and came most opportunely to his aid where without him he should + have been forced to resort to cannon and bloodshed. + </p> + <p> + With Gonzaga the only shadow of doubt that remained to mar the perfect + certainty of his success lay in his appreciation of Francesco's daring + character and resourceful mind, and now as if the gods were eager to + favour him to the very last degree—a strange weapon to combat this + was unexpectedly thrust into his hand. + </p> + <p> + It happened that Alvari was not the only messenger who travelled that day + to Roccaleone. There followed him by some hours, the Count of Aquila's + servant, Zaccaria, who rode hard and reached the approaches of the castle + by sunset. His destination being the fortress itself, he was forced to + wait in the woods until night had fallen, and even then his mission was + fraught with peril. + </p> + <p> + It befell that somewhere near the second hour of night, the moon being + overcast at the time—for there were threats of a storm in the sky—the + sentinel on the eastern wall heard a sound of splashing in the moat below, + accompanied by the stertorous breathing of a swimmer whose mouth is not + well above water. He challenged the sound, but receiving no reply he + turned to go and give the alarm, and ran into the arms of Gonzaga, who had + come up to take the air. + </p> + <p> + “Illustrious,” he exclaimed, “there is someone swimming the moat.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” cried Gonzaga, a hundred suspicions of Gian Maria running through + his mind. “Treachery?” + </p> + <p> + “It is what I thought.” + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga took the man by the sleeve of his doublet, and drew him back to + the parapet. They peered over, and from out of the blackness they were + hailed by a faint “Olá!” + </p> + <p> + “Who goes there?” demanded Romeo. + </p> + <p> + “A friend,” came the answer softly. “A messenger from Babbiano with + letters for the Lord Count of Aquila. Throw me a rope, friends, before I + drown in this trough.” + </p> + <p> + “You rave, fool!” answered him Gonzaga. “We have no counts at Roccaleone.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely, sir sentinel,” replied the voice, “my master, Messer Francesco + del Falco, is here. Throw me a rope, I say.” + </p> + <p> + “Messer Fran——” began Gonzaga. Then he made a noise like a man + choking. It was as if a sudden light of revelation had flooded his brain. + “Get a rope,” he harshly bade the sentry. “In the armoury yard. Despatch, + fool!” he added sharply, now fearing interruption. + </p> + <p> + In a moment the man was back, and the rope was lowered to the visitor + below. A few seconds later Zaccaria stood on the ramparts of Roccaleone, + the water dripping from his sodden garments, and gathering in a pool about + his feet. + </p> + <p> + “This way,” said Gonzaga, leading the man towards the armoury tower, where + a lanthorn was burning. By the light of it he surveyed the newcomer, and + bade the sentry close the door and remain within call, without. + </p> + <p> + Zaccaria looked startled at the order. This was scarcely the reception he + had expected after so imperilling his life to reach the castle with his + letter. + </p> + <p> + “Where is my lord?” he inquired, through teeth that chattered from the + cold of his immersion, wondering vaguely who this very magnificent + gentleman might be. + </p> + <p> + “Is Messer Francesco del Falco your lord?” asked Romeo. + </p> + <p> + “He is, sir. I have had the honour to serve him these ten years. I bring + him letters from Messer Fanfulla degli Arcipreti. They are very urgent. + Will you lead me to him?” + </p> + <p> + “You are very wet,” murmured Gonzaga solicitously. “You will take your + death from cold, and the death of a man so brave as to have found a way + through Gian Maria's lines were truly deplorable.” He stepped to the door. + “Olá!” he called to the sentry. “Take this brave fellow up there and find + him a change of raiment.” He pointed to the upper chamber of the tower, + where, indeed, such things were stored. + </p> + <p> + “But my letters, sir!” cried Zaccaria impatiently. “They are very urgent, + and hours have I wasted already in waiting for the night.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely you can wait until you have changed your garments? Your life, I + take it, is of more account than the loss of a few moments.” + </p> + <p> + “But my orders from Messer degli Arcipreti were that I must not lose an + instant.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, si, si!” cried Gonzaga, with a show of good-tempered impatience. + “Give me the letters, then, and I will take them to the Count while you + are stripping those wet clothes.” + </p> + <p> + Zaccaria eyed him a moment in doubt. But he looked so harmless in his + finery, and the expression of his comely face was so winning and honest, + that the man's hesitancy faded as soon as it sprang up. Removing his cap, + he drew from within the crown the letter, which he had placed there to + keep dry. This package he now handed to Gonzaga, who, with a final word of + instruction to the sentry touching the finding of raiment for the + messenger, stepped out to go his errand. But outside the door he paused, + and called the sentry to him again. + </p> + <p> + “Here is a ducat for you,” he whispered. “Do my bidding and you shall have + more. Detain him in the tower till I return, and on no account let him be + seen or heard by anyone.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Excellency,” the man replied. “But what if the captain comes and + finds me absent from my post?” + </p> + <p> + “I will provide for that. I will tell Messer Fortemani that I have + employed you on a special matter, and ask him to replace you. You are + dispensed sentry duty for to-night.” + </p> + <p> + The man bowed, and quietly withdrew to attend to his prisoner, for in that + light he now regarded Zaccaria. + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga sought Fortemani in the guard-room below, and did as he had + promised the sentry. + </p> + <p> + “But,” snapped Ercole, reddening, “by whose authority have you done this? + By what right do you send sentinels on missions of your own? Christo + Santo! Is the castle to be invaded while you send my watchmen to fetch + your comfitÂbox or a book of verses?” + </p> + <p> + “You will remember——” began Romeo, with an air of overwhelming + dignity. + </p> + <p> + “Devil take you and him that sent you!” broke in the bully. “The Messer + Provost shall hear of this.” + </p> + <p> + “On no account,” cried Gonzaga, now passing from anger to alarm, and + snatching the skirts of Fortemani's cloak as the captain was in the act of + going out to execute his threat. “Ser Ercole be reasonable, I beg of you. + Are we to alarm the castle and disturb Monna Valentina over a trumpery + affair such as this? Man, they will laugh at you.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” There was nothing Ercole relished less than to be laughed at. He + pondered a moment, and it occurred to him that perhaps he was making much + of nothing. Then: + </p> + <p> + “You, Aventano,” he called, “take your partisan, and patrol the eastern + rampart. There, Messer Gonzaga, I have obeyed your wishes; but Messer + Francesco shall hear of it when he comes his rounds.” + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga left him. Francesco would not make his rounds for another hour, + and by then it would not matter what Fortemani told him. In one way or + another he would be able to account for his action. + </p> + <p> + He crossed the courtyard, and mounted the steps leading to his own + chamber. Once there, he closed and barred the door. He kindled a light, + and flinging the letter on the table, he sat and contemplated its exterior + and the great red seal that gleamed in the yellow light of his taper. + </p> + <p> + So! This knight-errant, this man whom he had accounted a low-born hind, + was none other than the famous Count of Aquila, the well-beloved of the + people of Babbiano, the beau-ideal of all military folk from Sicily to the + Alps. And he had never suspected it! Dull-witted did he now account + himself. Enough descriptions had he heard of that famous condottiero, that + mirror of Italian chivalry. He might have known that there did not live + two men of such commanding ways as he had seen instanced at Roccaleone. + What was his object there? Was it love of Valentina, or was it——? + He paused, as in his mind he made a swift review of the politics of + Babbiano. A sudden possibility occurred to him that made his eyes sparkle + and his hands tremble with eagerness. Was this but a political scheme to + undermine his cousin's throne, to which Gonzaga had heard it rumoured that + Francesco del Falco was an aspirant? If it were so, what a vengeance would + be his to unmask him! How it must humble Valentina! The letter lay before + him. Within it the true facts would be disclosed. What did his friend + Fanfulla write him? + </p> + <p> + He took the letter up and made a close inspection of the seal. Then + softly, quietly, slowly he drew his dagger. If his suspicions were + unfounded, his dagger heated in the taper should afford him the means to + conceal the fact that he had tampered with that missive. He slipped his + blade under the seal, and worked it cautiously until it came up and set + the letter open. He unfolded it, and as he read his eyes dilated. He + seemed to crouch on his chair, and the hand that held the paper shook. He + drew the candle nearer, and shading his eyes he read it again, word for + word: + </p> + <p> + “MY DEAR LORD COUNT,—I have delayed writing until the time when the + signs I observed should have become more definite, as they have now done, + so that I may delay no longer. This, then, goes by the hand of Zaccaria, + to tell you that to-day has word been sent Gian Maria giving him three + days in which to return to Babbiano, or to abandon all hope of his crown, + of which the people will send the offer then to you at Aquila, where you + are believed to be. So now, my dear lord, you have the tyrant at your + mercy, tossed between Scylla and Charybdis. Yours it is to resolve how you + will act; but I rejoice in being the one to send you word that your + presence at Roccaleone and your stubborn defence of the fortress has not + been vain, and that presently you are to reap the well-earned reward of + it. The people have been stirred to this extreme action by the confusion + prevailing here. + </p> + <p> + “News has reached us that Caesar Borgia is arming, at Rome, a condotta to + invade Babbiano, and the people are exasperated at Gian Maria's continued + absence in such a season. They are short-sighted in this, for they + overlook the results that must attend the alliance with Urbino. May God + protect and prosper your Excellency, whose most devoted servant is + </p> + <p> + “FANFULLA DEGLI AROIPRETI.” <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII. A REVELATION + </h2> + <p> + “Francesco,” said Valentina, and the name came from her lips as if it were + an endearment, “why that frowning, careÂworn look?” + </p> + <p> + They were in the dining-room alone, where the others had left them, and + they were still seated at the table at which they had supped. Francesco + raised his dark, thoughtful eyes, and as they lighted now on Valentina the + thoughtfulness that was in them gave place to tenderness. + </p> + <p> + “I am fretted by this lack of news,” he acknowledged. “I would I knew what + is being done in Babbiano. I had thought that ere now Caesar Borgia had + stirred Gian Maria's subjects into some manner of action. I would I knew!” + </p> + <p> + She rose, and coming close to him, she stood with one hand resting upon + his shoulder, her eyes smiling down upon his upturned face. + </p> + <p> + “And shall such a trifle fret you—you who professed a week ago that + you would this siege might last for ever?” + </p> + <p> + “Account me not fickle, anima mia,” he answered her, and he kissed the + ivory fingers that rested on his shoulder. “For that was before the world + changed for me at the magic of your bidding. And so,” he repeated, “I + would I knew what is toward at Babbiano!” + </p> + <p> + “But why sigh over a wish so idle?” she exclaimed. “By what means can news + reach you here of the happenings of the world without?” + </p> + <p> + He pondered a moment, seeking words in which to answer her. A score of + times during that week had he been on the point of disclosing himself, of + telling her who and what he was. Yet ever had he hesitated, putting off + that disclosure until the season should appear more fitting. This he now + considered the present. She trusted him, and there was no reason to remain + silent longer. Perhaps already he had delayed too long, and so he was + about to speak when she started from his side, and crossed hastily to the + window, alarmed by the sound of approaching steps. A second later the door + opened, and Gonzaga appeared. + </p> + <p> + A moment he hesitated in the doorway, looking from one to the other, and + Francesco, lazily regarding him in his turn, noted that his cheeks were + pale and that his eyes glittered like those of a man with the fever. Then + he stepped forward, and, leaving the door open behind him, he advanced + into the room. + </p> + <p> + “Monna Valentina, I have something to communicate to you.” His voice shook + slightly. “Messer—Francesco, will you give us leave?” And his + feverish eyes moved to the open door with an eloquence that asked no + words. + </p> + <p> + Francesco rose slowly, endeavouring to repress his surprise and glanced + across at Valentina, as if awaiting her confirmation or refusal of this + request that he should leave them. + </p> + <p> + “A communication for me?” she marvelled, a slight frown drawing her brows + together. “Of what nature, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Of a nature as important as it is private.” + </p> + <p> + She raised her chin, and with a patient smile she seemed to beg of + Francesco that he would suffer her to humour this mood of Gonzaga's. In + quick obedience Francesco inclined his head. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be in my chamber until the hour of my rounds, Madonna,” he + announced, and with that took his departure. + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga attended him to the door, which he closed after him, and composing + his features to an expression of sorrowing indignation, he came back and + stood facing Valentina across the table. + </p> + <p> + “Madonna,” he said, “I would to Heaven this communication I have to make + to you came from other lips. In the light of what has passed—here at + Roccaleone—through my folly—you—you may think my mission + charged with vindictiveness.” + </p> + <p> + Perplexity stared at him from her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You fill me with alarm, my good Gonzaga,” she answered him, though + smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Alas it has fallen to my unfortunate lot to do more than that. I have + made the discovery of as foul a piece of treachery here in your fortress + as ever traitor hatched.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him more seriously now. The vehemence of his tone, and the + suggestion of sorrow that ran through it and gave it so frank an accent, + commanded her attention. + </p> + <p> + “Treachery!” she echoed, in a low voice, her eyes dilating. “And from + whom?” + </p> + <p> + He hesitated a moment, then waving his hand: + </p> + <p> + “Will you not sit, Madonna?” he suggested nervously. + </p> + <p> + Mechanically she seated herself at the table, her eyes ever on his face, + alarm spreading in her heart, born of suspense. + </p> + <p> + “Be seated too,” she bade him, “and tell me.” + </p> + <p> + He drew up a chair, sat down opposite to her, and taking a deep breath: + “Heard you ever of the Count of Aquila?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “It were odd if I had not. The most valiant knight in Italy, fame dubs + him.” + </p> + <p> + His eyes were intently on her face, and what he saw there satisfied him. + </p> + <p> + “You know how he stands with the people of Babbiano?” + </p> + <p> + “I know that he is beloved of them.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you know that he is a pretender to the throne of Babbiano? You + will remember that he is cousin to Gian Maria?” + </p> + <p> + “His relationship to Gian Maria I know. That he pretends to the throne of + Babbiano I was not aware. But whither are we straying?” + </p> + <p> + “We are not straying, Madonna,” answered Gonzaga, “we are making a + straight line for the very heart and soul of this treachery I spoke of. + Would you believe me if I told you that here, in Roccaleone, we have an + agent of the Count of Aquila one who in the Count's interest is + protracting this siege with the pretended aim of driving Gian Maria off.” + </p> + <p> + “Gonzaga——” she began, more than half guessing the drift of + his explanation. But he interrupted her with unusual brusqueness. + </p> + <p> + “Wait, Madonna,” he cried, his eyes upon her face, his hand imperiously + raised. “Hear me out in patience. I am not talking idly. Of what I tell + you I am armed with proof and witness. Such an agent of—of the + Count's interests we have among us, and his true object in protracting + this siege, and encouraging and aiding you in your resistance, is to + outwear the patience of the people of Babbiano with Gian Maria, and drive + them in the hour of their approaching peril from Caesar Borgia's armies to + bestow the throne on Aquila.” + </p> + <p> + “Where learnt you this foul lie?” she asked him, her cheeks crimson, her + eyes on fire. + </p> + <p> + “Madonna,” he said, in a patient voice, “this that you call a lie is + already an accomplished fact. I am not laying before you the fruits of + idle speculation. I have upon me the most positive proof that such a + result as was hoped for has already been reached. Gian Maria has received + from his subjects a notification that unless he is in his capital within + three days from this, they will invest the Lord of Aquila with the ducal + crown.” + </p> + <p> + She rose, her anger well controlled, her voice calm. + </p> + <p> + “Where is this proof? No, no; I don't need to see it. Whatever it is, what + shall it prove to me? That your words, in so far as the politics of + Babbiano are concerned, may be true; our resistance of Gian Maria may + indeed be losing him his throne and doing good service to the cause of the + Count of Aquila; but how shall all this prove that lie of yours, that + Messer Francesco—for it is clearly of him you speak—that + Messer Francesco should be this agent of the Count's? It is a lie, + Gonzaga, for which you shall be punished as you deserve.” + </p> + <p> + She ceased, and stood awaiting his reply, and as she watched him his calm + demeanour struck a chill into her heart. He was so confident, so full of + assurance; and that, in Gonzaga, she had learnt to know meant a strong + bulwark 'twixt himself and danger. He sighed profoundly. + </p> + <p> + “Madonna, these cruel words of yours do not wound me, since they are no + more than I expected. But it will wound me—and sorely—if when + you shall have learnt the rest you do not humbly acknowledge how you have + wronged me, how grossly you have misjudged me. You think I come to you + with evil in my heart, urged by a spirit of vindictiveness against Messer + Francesco. Instead, I come to you with nothing but a profound sorrow that + mine must be the voice to disillusion you, and a deep indignation against + him that has so foully used you to his own ends. Wait, Madonna! In a + measure you are right. It was not strictly true to say that this Messer + Francesco is the agent of the Count of Aquila.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! You are recanting already?” + </p> + <p> + “Only a little—an insignificant little. He is no agent because——” + He hesitated, and glanced swiftly up. Then he sighed, lowered his voice, + and with consummately simulated sorrow, he concluded “Because he is, + himself, Francesco del Falco. Count of Aquila.” + </p> + <p> + She swayed a moment, and the colour died from her cheeks, leaving them + ivory pale. She leaned heavily against the table, and turned over in her + mind what she had heard. And then, as suddenly as it had gone, the blood + rushed back into her face, mounting to her very temples. + </p> + <p> + “It's a lie!” she blazed at him; “a lie for which you shall be whipped.” + </p> + <p> + He shrugged his shoulders, and cast Francesco's letter on to the table. + </p> + <p> + “There, Madonna, is something that will prove all that I have said.” + </p> + <p> + She eyed the paper coldly. Her first impulse was to call Fortemani and + carry out her threat of having Gonzaga whipped, refusing so much as to see + this thing that he so confidently termed a proof; but it may be that his + confidence wrought upon her, touching a chord of feminine curiosity. That + he was wrong she never doubted; but that he believed himself right she was + also assured, and she wondered what this thing might be that had so + convinced him. Still she did not touch it, but asked in an indifferent + voice: + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “A letter that was brought hither to-night by a man who swam the moat, and + whom I have ordered to be detained in the armoury tower. It is from + Fanfulla degli Arcipreti to the Count of Aquila. If your memory will bear + you back to a certain day at Acquasparta, you may recall that Fanfulla was + the name of a very gallant cavalier who addressed this Messer Francesco + with marked respect.” + </p> + <p> + She took that backward mental glance he bade her, and remembered. Then she + remembered, too, how that very evening Francesco had said that he was + fretting for news of Babbiano, and that when she had asked how he hoped + that news could reach him at Roccaleone, Gonzaga had entered before he + answered her. Indeed, he had seemed to hesitate upon that answer. A sudden + chill encompassed her at that reflection. Oh, it was impossible, absurd! + And yet she took the letter from the table. With knit brows she read it, + whilst Gonzaga watched her, scarce able to keep the satisfaction from + gleaming in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + She read it slowly, and as she read her face grew deathly pale. When she + had finished she stood silent for a long minute, her eyes upon the + signature and her mind harking back to what Gonzaga had said, and drawing + comparison between that and such things as had been done and uttered, and + nowhere did she find the slightest gleam of that discrepancy which so + ardently she sought. + </p> + <p> + It was as if a hand were crushing the heart in her bosom. This man whom + she had trusted, this peerless champion of her cause, to be nothing but a + self-seeker, an intriguer, who, to advance his own ends, had made a pawn + of her. She thought of how for a moment he had held her in his arms and + kissed her, and at that her whole soul revolted against the notion that + here was no more than treachery. + </p> + <p> + “It's all a plot against him!” she cried, her cheeks scarlet again. “It's + an infamous thing of your devising, Messer Gonzaga, an odious lie!” + </p> + <p> + “Madonna, the man that brought the letter is still detained. Confront him + with Messer Francesco; or apply the question to him, and learn his + master's true name and station. As for the rest, if that letter is + insufficient proof for you, I beg that you will look back at facts. Why + should he lie to you? and say that his name was Francesco Franceschi? Why + should he have urged you—against all reason—to remain here, + when he brought you news that Gian Maria was advancing? Surely had he but + sought to serve you he had better accomplished this by placing his own + castle of Aquila at your disposal, and leaving here an empty nest for Gian + Maria, as I urged.” + </p> + <p> + She sank to a chair, a fever in her mind. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you, Madonna, there is no mistake. What I have said is true. + Another three days would he have held Gian Maria here, whilst if you gave + him that letter, it is odds he would slip away in the night of to-morrow, + that he might be in Babbiano on the third day to take the throne his + cousin treats so lightly. Sainted God!” he cried out. “I think this is the + most diabolically treacherous plot that ever mind of man conceived and + human heartlessness executed.” + </p> + <p> + “But—but——” she faltered, “all this is presupposing that + Messer Francesco is indeed the Count of Aquila. May there—may it not + be that this letter was meant for some other destination?” + </p> + <p> + “Will you confront this messenger with the Count?” + </p> + <p> + “With the Count?” she inquired dully. “With Messer Francesco, you mean?” + She shuddered, and with strange inconsistence: “No,” she said, in a + choking voice, her lip twisting oddly at the corner. “I do not wish to see + his face again.” + </p> + <p> + A light gleamed in Gonzaga's eye, and was extinguished on the instant. + </p> + <p> + “Best make certain,” he suggested, rising. “I have ordered Fortemani to + bring Lanciotto here. He will be waiting now, without. Shall I admit + them?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded without speaking, and Gonzaga opened the door, and called + Fortemani. A voice answered him from the gloom of the banqueting-hall. + </p> + <p> + “Bring Lanciotto here,” he commanded. + </p> + <p> + When Francesco's servant entered, a look of surprise on his face at these + mysterious proceedings, it was Valentina who questioned him, and that in a + voice as cold as though the issue concerned her no whit. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, sirrah,” she said, “and as you value your neck, see that you + answer me truly—what is your master's name?” + </p> + <p> + Lanciotto looked from her to Gonzaga, who stood by, a cynical curl on his + sensual lips. + </p> + <p> + “Answer Monna Valentina,” the courtier urged him. “State your master's + true name and station.” + </p> + <p> + “But, lady,” began Lanciotto, bewildered. + </p> + <p> + “Answer me!” she stormed, her small clenched hands beating the table in + harsh impatience. And Lanciotto, seeing no help for it, answered: + </p> + <p> + “Messer Francesco del Falco, Count of Aquila.” + </p> + <p> + Something that began in a sob and ended in a laugh burst from the lips of + Valentina. Ercole's eyes were wide at the news, and he might have gone the + length of interposing a question, when Gonzaga curtly bade him go to the + armoury tower, and bring thence the soldier and the man Gonzaga had left + in his care. + </p> + <p> + “I will leave no shadow of doubt in your mind, Madonna,” he said in + explanation. + </p> + <p> + They waited in silence—for Lanciotto's presence hindered + conversation—until Ercole returned accompanied by the man-at-arms + and Zaccaria, who had now changed his raiment. Before they could question + the new-comer, such questions as they might have put were answered by the + greeting that passed between him and his fellow-servant Lanciotto. + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga turned to Valentina. She sat very still, her tawny head bowed and + in her eyes a look of sore distress. And in that instant a brisk step + sounded without. The door was thrust open, and Francesco himself stood + upon the threshold, with Peppe's alarmed face showing behind him. Gonzaga + instinctively drew back a pace, and his countenance lost some of its + colour. + </p> + <p> + At sight of Francesco, Zaccaria rushed forward and bowed profoundly. + </p> + <p> + “My lord!” he greeted him. + </p> + <p> + And if one little thing had been wanting to complete the evidence against + the Count, that thing, by an odd mischance, Francesco himself seemed to + supply. The strange group in that dining-room claiming his attention, and + the portentous air that hung about those present, confirmed the warning + Peppe had brought him that something was amiss. He disregarded utterly his + servant's greeting, and with eyes of a perplexity that may have worn the + look of alarm he sought the face of Valentina. + </p> + <p> + She rose upon the instant, an angry red colouring her cheeks. His very + glance, it seemed, was become an affront unbearable after what had passed—for + the memory of his kiss bit like a poisoned fang into her brain. An odd + laugh broke from her. She made a gesture towards Francesco. + </p> + <p> + “Fortemani, you will place the Count of Aquila under arrest,” she + commanded, in a stern, steady voice, “and as you value your life you will + see that he does not elude you.” + </p> + <p> + The great bully hesitated. His knowledge of Francesco's methods was not + encouraging. + </p> + <p> + “Madonna!” gasped Francesco, his bewilderment increasing. + </p> + <p> + “Did you hear me, Fortemani,” she demanded. “Remove him.” + </p> + <p> + “My lord?” cried Lanciotto, laying hand to his sword his eyes upon his + master's, ready to draw and lay about him at a glance of bidding. + </p> + <p> + “Sh! Let be,” answered Franeesco coldly. “Here, Messer Fortemani.” And he + proffered his dagger, the only weapon that he carried. + </p> + <p> + Valentina, calling Gonzaga to attend her, made shift to quit the + apartment. At that Francesco seemed to awaken to his position. + </p> + <p> + “Madonna, wait,” he cried, and he stepped deliberately before her. “You + must hear me. I have surrendered in earnest of my faith and confident that + once you have heard me——” + </p> + <p> + “Captain Fortemani,” she cried, almost angrily, “will you restrain your + prisoner? I wish to pass.” + </p> + <p> + Ercole, with visible reluctance, laid a hand on Francesco's shoulder; but + it was unnecessary. Before her words, the Count recoiled as if he had been + struck. He stood clear of her path with a gasp at once of unbelief and + angry resignation. An instant his eyes rested on Gonzaga, so fiercely that + the faint smile withered on the courtier's lips, and his knees trembled + under him as he hastened from the room in Valentina's wake. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII. IN THE ARMOURY TOWER + </h2> + <p> + The rough stones of the inner courtyard shone clean and bright in the + morning sun, still wet with the heavy rains that had washed them + yesternight. + </p> + <p> + The fool sat on a rude stool within the porch of the long gallery, and, + moodily eyeing that glistening pavement, ruminated. He was angry, which, + saving where Fra Domenico was concerned, was a rare thing with + good-humoured Peppe. He had sought to reason with Monna Valentina touching + the imprisonment in his chamber of Messer Francesco, and she had bidden + him confine his attention to his capers with a harshness he had never + known in her before. But he had braved her commands, and astonished her + with the information that the true identity of this Messer Francesco had + been known to him since that day when they had first met him at + Acquasparta. He had meant to say more. He had meant to add the + announcement of Francesco's banishment from Babbiano and his notorious + unwillingness to mount his cousin's throne. He had meant to make her + understand that had Francesco been so minded, he had no need to stoop to + such an act as this that she imputed to him. But she had cut him short, + and with angry words and angrier threats she had driven him from her + presence. + </p> + <p> + And so she was gone to Mass, and the fool had taken shelter in the porch + of the gallery, that there he might vent some of his ill-humour—or + indeed indulge it—in pondering the obtuseness of woman and the + insidiousness of Gonzaga, to whom he never doubted that this miserable + state of things was due. + </p> + <p> + And as he sat there—a grotesque, misshapen figure in gaudy motley—an + ungovernable rage possessed him. What was to become of them now? Without + the Count of Aquila's stern support the garrison would have forced her to + capitulate a week ago. What would betide, now that the restraint of his + formidable command was withdrawn? + </p> + <p> + “She will know her folly when it's too late. It's the way of women,” he + assured himself. And, loving his mistress as he did, his faithful soul was + stricken at the thought. He would wait there until she returned from Mass, + and then she should hear him—all should hear him. He would not + permit himself to be driven away again so easily. He was intently turning + over in his mind what he would say, with what startling, pregnant sentence + he would compel attention, when he was startled by the appearance of a + figure on the chapel steps. Sudden and quietly as an apparition it came, + but it bore the semblance of Romeo Gonzaga. + </p> + <p> + At sight of him, Peppe instinctively drew back into the shadows of the + porch, his eyes discerning the suspicious furtiveness of the courtier's + movements, and watching them with a grim eagerness. He saw Romeo look + carefully about him, and then descend the steps on tiptoe, evidently so + that no echo of his footfalls should reach those within the chapel. Then, + never suspecting the presence of Peppe, he sped briskly across the yard + and vanished through the archway that led to the outer court. And the + fool, assured that some knowledge of the courtier's purpose would not be + amiss, set out to follow him. + </p> + <p> + In his room under the Lion's Tower the Count of Aquila had spent a + restless night, exercised by those same fears touching the fate of the + castle that had beset the fool, but less readily attributing his + confinement to Gonzaga's scheming. Zaccaria's presence had told him that + Fanfulla must at last have written, and he could but assume that the + letter, falling into Monna Valentina's hands, should have contained + something that she construed into treason on his part. + </p> + <p> + Bitterly he reproached himself now with not having from the very outset + been frank with her touching his identity; bitterly he reproached her with + not so much as giving a hearing to the man she had professed to love. Had + she but told him upon what grounds her suspicions against him had been + founded, he was assured that he could have dispelled them at a word, + making clear their baselessness and his own honesty of purpose towards + her. Most of all was he fretted by the fact that Zaccaria's presence, + after a coming so long expected and so long delayed, argued that the news + he bore was momentous. From this it might result that Gian Maria should + move at any moment and that his action might be of a desperate character. + </p> + <p> + Now through the ranks of Fortemani's men there had run an inevitable + dismay at Francesco's arrest, and a resentment against Valentina who had + encompassed it. His hand it was that had held them together, his judgment—of + which they had had unequivocal signs—that had given them courage. He + was a leader who had shown himself capable of leading, and out of + confidence for whom they would have undertaken anything that he bade them. + Whom had they now? Fortemani was but one of themselves, placed in command + over them by an event purely adventitious. Gonzaga was a fop whose capers + they mimicked and whose wits they despised; whilst Valentina, though brave + enough and high-spirited, remained a girl of no worldly and less military + knowledge, whose orders it might be suicidal to carry out. + </p> + <p> + Now by none were these opinions more strongly entertained than by Ercole + Fortemani himself. Never had he performed anything with greater reluctance + than the apprehension of Francesco, and when he thought of what was likely + to follow his consternation knew no bounds. He had come to respect and, in + his rough way, even to love their masterful Provost, and since learning + his true identity, in the hour of arresting him, his admiration had grown + to something akin to reverence for the condottiero whose name to the + men-at-arms of Italy was like the name of some patron saint. + </p> + <p> + To ensure the safe keeping of his captive, he had been ordered by Gonzaga, + who now resumed command of Roccaleone, to spend the night in the ante-room + of Francesco's chamber. These orders he had exceeded by spending a + considerable portion of the night in the Count's very room. + </p> + <p> + “You have but to speak,” the bully had sworn, by way of showing Francesco + the true nature of his feelings, “and the castle is yours. At a word from + you my men will flock to obey you, and you may do your will at + Roccaleone.” + </p> + <p> + “Foul traitor that you are,” Francesco had laughed at him. “Do you forget + under whom you have taken service? Let be what is, Ercole. But if a favour + you would do me, let me see Zaccaria—the man that came to Roccaleone + to-night.” + </p> + <p> + This Ercole had done for him. Now Zaccaria was fully aware of the contents + of the letter he had carried, having been instructed by Fanfulla against + the chance arising of his being compelled, for his safety, to destroy it—an + expedient to which he now bitterly repented him that he had not had + recourse. From Zaccaria, then, Francesco learnt all that there was to + learn, and since the knowledge but confirmed his fears that Gian Maria + would delay action no longer, he fell a prey to the most passionate + impatience at his own detention. + </p> + <p> + In the grey hours of the morning he grew calmer, and by the light of a + lamp that he had called Ercole to replenish, he sat down to write a letter + to Valentina, which he thought should carry conviction of his honesty to + her heart. Since she would not hear him, this was the only course. At the + end of an hour—his moribund light grown yellow now that the sun was + risen—his letter was accomplished, and he summoned Ercole again, to + charge him to deliver it at once to Monna Valentina. + </p> + <p> + “I shall await her return from chapel,” answered Ercole. He took the + letter and departed. As he emerged into the courtyard he was startled to + see the fool dash towards him, gasping for breath, and with excitement in + every line of his quaint face. + </p> + <p> + “Quickly, Ercole!” Peppe enjoined him. “Come with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Devil take you, spawn of Satan—whither?” growled the soldier. + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you as we go. We have not a moment to spare. There is + treachery afoot—— Gonzaga——” he gasped, and ended + desperately: “Will you come?” + </p> + <p> + Fortemani needed no second bidding. The chance of catching pretty Messer + Romeo at a treachery was too sweet a lure. Snorting and puffing—for + hard drinking had sorely impaired his wind—the great captain hurried + the fool along, listening as they went to the gasps in which he brought + out his story. It was not much, after all. Peppe had seen Messer Gonzaga + repair to the armoury tower. Through an arrow-slit he had watched him take + down and examine an arbalest, place it on the table and sit down to write. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” demanded Ercole. “What else?” + </p> + <p> + “Naught else. That is all,” answered the hunchback. + </p> + <p> + “Heaven and hell!” roared the swashbuckler, coming to a standstill and + glowering down upon his impatient companion. “And you have made me run for + this?” + </p> + <p> + “And is it not enough?” retorted Peppe testily. “Will you come on?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a foot farther,” returned the captain, getting very angry. “Is this a + miserable jest? What of the treachery you spoke of?” + </p> + <p> + “A letter and an arbalest!” panted the maddened Peppe, grimacing horribly + at this delay. “God, was there ever such a fool! Does this mean nothing to + that thick, empty thing you call a head? Have you forgotten how Gian + Maria's offer of a thousand florins came to Roccaleone? On an arbalest + quarrel, stupid! Come on, I say, and afterwards you shall have my motley—the + only livery you have a right to wear.” + </p> + <p> + In the shock of enlightenment Ercole forgot to cuff the jester for his + insolence, and allowed himself once more to be hurried along, across the + outer court and up the steps that led to the battlements. + </p> + <p> + “You think——” he began. + </p> + <p> + “I think you had best tread more softly,” snapped the fool, under his + breath, “and control that thunderous wheeze, if you would surprise Ser + Romeo.” + </p> + <p> + Ercole accepted the hint, meek as a lamb, and leaving the fool behind him + on the steps, he went softly up, and approached the armoury tower. Peering + cautiously through the arrow-slit, and favoured by the fact that Gonzaga's + back was towards him, he saw that he was no more than in time. + </p> + <p> + The courtier was bending down, and by the creaking sound that reached him + Ercole guessed his occupation to be the winding of the arbalest string. On + the table at his side lay a quarrel swathed in a sheet of paper. + </p> + <p> + Swiftly and silently Ercole moved round the tower, and the next instant he + had pushed open the unfastened door and entered. + </p> + <p> + A scream of terror greeted him, and a very startled face was turned upon + him by Gonzaga, who instantly sprang upright. Then, seeing who it was, the + courtier's face reassumed some of its normal composure, but his glance was + uneasy and his cheek pale. + </p> + <p> + “Sant Iddio!” he gasped. “You startled me, Ercole. I did not hear you + coming.” + </p> + <p> + And now something in the bully's face heightened the alarm in Gonzaga. He + still made an effort at self-control, as planting himself between Ercole + and the table, so as to screen the tell-tale shaft, he asked him what he + sought there. + </p> + <p> + “That letter you have written Gian Maria,” was the gruff, uncompromising + answer, for Ercole reeked nothing of diplomatic issues. + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga's mouth jerked itself open, and his upper lip shuddered against + his teeth. + </p> + <p> + “What—— Wha——” + </p> + <p> + “Give me that letter,” Ercole insisted, now advancing upon him, and + wearing an air of ferocity that drove back into Gonzaga's throat such + resentful words as he bethought him of. Then, like an animal at bay—and + even a rat will assert itself then—he swung aloft the heavy arbalest + he held, and stood barring Ercole's way. + </p> + <p> + “Stand back!” he cried; “or by God and His saints, I'll beat your brains + out.” + </p> + <p> + There was a guttural laugh from the swashbuckler, and then his arms were + round Gonzaga's shapely waist, and the popinjay was lifted from his feet. + Viciously he brought down the cross-bow, as he had threatened; but it + smote the empty air. The next instant Gonzaga was hurtled, bruised, into a + corner of the tower. + </p> + <p> + In a rage so great that he felt it draining him of his very strength and + choking the breath in his body, he made a movement to rise and fling + himself again upon his aggressor. But Fortemani was down upon him, and for + all his struggles contrived to turn him over on his face, twisting his + arms behind him, and making them fast with a belt that lay at hand. + </p> + <p> + “Lie still, you scorpion!” growled the ruffler, breathing hard from his + exertions. He rose, took the shaft with the letter tied about it, read the + superscription—“To the High and Mighty Lord Gian Maria Sforza”—and + with a chuckle of mingled relish and scorn, he was gone, locking the door. + </p> + <p> + Left alone, Gonzaga lay face downward where he had been flung, able to do + little more than groan and sweat in the extremity of his despair, whilst + he awaited the coming of those who would probably make an end of him. Not + even from Valentina could he hope for mercy, so incriminating was the note + he had penned. His letter was to enjoin the Duke to hold his men in + readiness at the hour of the Angelus next morning, and to wait until + Gonzaga should wave a handkerchief from the battlements. At that he was to + advance immediately to the postern, which he would find open, and the + rest, Gonzaga promised him, would be easy. He would take the whole + garrison at their prayers and weaponless. + </p> + <p> + When Francesco read it a light leapt to his eye and an oath to his lips; + but neither glance nor oath were of execration, as Ercole stood expecting. + A sudden idea flashed through the Count's mind, so strange and humorous + and yet so full of promise of easy accomplishment, that he burst into a + laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Now may God bless this fool for the most opportune of traitors!” he + exclaimed, in surprise at which Fortemani's mouth fell open, and the eyes + of Peppe grew very round. + </p> + <p> + “Ercole, my friend, here is a bait to trap that lout my cousin, such as I + could never have devised myself.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean——?” + </p> + <p> + “Take it back to him,” cried the Count, holding out the letter with a hand + that trembled in the eagerness of his spirit. “Take it back, and get him + by fair means or foul to shoot it as he intended; or if he refuses, why, + then, do you seal it up and shoot it yourself. But see that it gets to + Gian Maria!” + </p> + <p> + “May I not know what you intend?” quoth the bewildered Ercole. + </p> + <p> + “All in good time, my friend. First do my bidding with that letter. + Listen! It were best that having read it you agree to join him in his + betrayal of Roccaleone, your own fears as to the ultimate fate awaiting + you at Gian Maria's hands being aroused. Urge him to promise you money, + immunity, what you will, as your reward; but make him believe you sincere, + and induce him to shoot his precious bolt. Now go! Lose no time, or they + may be returning from chapel, and your opportunity will be lost. Come to + me here, afterwards, and I will tell you what is in my mind. We shall have + a busy night of it to-night, Ercole, and you must set me free when the + others are abed. Now go!” + </p> + <p> + Ercole went, and Peppe, remaining, plagued the Count with questions which + he answered until in the end the fool caught the drift of his scheme, and + swore impudently that a greater jester than his Excellency did not live. + Then Ercole returned. + </p> + <p> + “Is it done? Has the letter gone?” cried Francesco. Fortemani nodded. + </p> + <p> + “We are sworn brothers in this business, he and I. He added a line to his + note to say that he had gained my cooperation, and that, therefore, + immunity was expected for me too.” + </p> + <p> + “You have done well, Ercole.” Francesco applauded him. “Now return me the + letter I gave you for Monna Valentina. There is no longer the need for it. + But return to me to-night toward the fourth hour, when all are abed, and + bring with you my men, Lanciotto and Zaccaria.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV. THE INTERRUPTED MASS + </h2> + <p> + The morning of that Wednesday of Corpus Christi, fateful to all concerned + in this chronicle, dawned misty and grey, and the air was chilled by the + wind that blew from the sea. The chapel bell tinkled out its summons, and + the garrison trooped faithfully to Mass. + </p> + <p> + Presently came Monna Valentina, followed by her ladies, her pages, and + lastly, Peppe, wearing under his thin mask of piety an air of eager + anxiety and unrest. Valentina was very pale, and round her eyes there were + dark circles that told of sleeplessness, and as she bowed her head in + prayer, her ladies observed that tears were falling on the illuminated + Mass-book over which she bent. And now came Fra Domenico from the sacristy + in the white chasuble that the Church ordains for the Corpus Christi + feast, followed by a page in a clerkly gown of black, and the Mass + commenced. + </p> + <p> + There were absent only from the gathering Gonzaga and Fortemani, besides a + sentry and the three prisoners. Francesco and his two followers. + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga had presented himself to Valentina with the plausible tale that, + as the events of which Fanfulla's letter had given them knowledge might + lead Gian Maria at any moment to desperate measures, it might be well that + he should reinforce the single man-at-arms patrolling the walls. + Valentina, little recking now whether the castle held or fell, and still + less such trifles as Gonzaga's attendance at Mass, had assented without + heeding the import of what he said. + </p> + <p> + And so, his face drawn and his body quivering with the excitement of what + he was about to do, Gonzaga had repaired to the ramparts so soon as he had + seen them all safely into chapel. The sentinel was that same clerkly youth + Aventano, who had read to the soldiers that letter Gian Maria had sent + Gonzaga. This the courtier accepted as a good omen. If a man there was + among the soldiery at Roccaleone with whom he deemed that he had an + account to settle, that man was Aventano. + </p> + <p> + The mist was rapidly lightening, and the country grew visible for miles + around. In the camp of Gian Maria he observed a coming and going of men + that argued an inordinate bustle for so early an hour. They awaited his + signal. + </p> + <p> + He approached the young sentinel, growing more and more nervous as the + time for action advanced. He cursed Fortemani, who had selfishly refused + to take an active part in the admission of Gian Maria. Here was a task + that Fortemani could perform more satisfactorily than he. He had urged + this fact on Ercole's attention, but the swashbuckler had grinned and + shook his head. To Gonzaga fell the greater reward, and so Gonzaga must do + the greater work. It was only fair, the knave had urged; and while Gonzaga + was about it, he would watch the chapel door against interruption. And so + Gonzaga had been forced to come alone to try conclusions with the sentry. + </p> + <p> + He gave the young man a nervous but pleasant “Good-morrow,” and observed + with satisfaction that he wore no body armour. His original intention had + been to attempt to suborn him, and render him pliable by bribery; but now + that the moment for action was arrived he dared not make the offer. He + lacked for words in which to present his proposal, and he was afraid lest + the man should resent it, and in a fit of indignation attack him with his + partisan. He little imagined that Aventano had been forewarned by Ercole + that a bribe would be offered him and that he was to accept it promptly. + Ercole had chosen this man because he was intelligent, and had made him + understand enough of what was toward, besides offering a substantial + reward if he played his part well, and Aventano waited. But Gonzaga, + knowing naught of this, abandoned at the last moment the notion of bribing + him—which Ercole had enjoined him, and which he in his turn had + promised Ercole was the course he would pursue. + </p> + <p> + “You seem cold, Excellency,” said the young man deferentially, for he had + observed that Gonzaga shivered. + </p> + <p> + “A chill morning, Aventano,” returned the gallant, with a grin. + </p> + <p> + “True; but the sun is breaking through yonder. It will be warmer soon.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes,” answered the other abstractedly, and still he remained by the + sentinel, his hand, under the gay mantle of blue velvet, nervously + fingering the hilt of a dagger that he dared not draw. It came to him that + moments were passing, and that the thing must be done. Yet Aventano was a + sinewy youth, and if the sudden stab he meditated failed him, he would be + at the fellow's mercy. At the thought he shivered again, and his face + turned grey. He moved away a step, and then inspiration brought him a + cruel ruse. He uttered a cry. + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” he exclaimed, his eyes on the ground. + </p> + <p> + In an instant Aventano was beside him, for his voice had sounded alarmed—a + tone, in his present condition, not difficult to simulate. + </p> + <p> + “What, Excellency?” + </p> + <p> + “Down there,” cried Gonzaga excitedly. “There from that fissure in the + stone. Saw you nothing?” And he pointed to the ground at a spot where two + slabs met. + </p> + <p> + “I saw nothing, Illustrious.” + </p> + <p> + “It was like a flash of yellow light below there. What is under us here? + I'll swear there's treachery at work. Get down on your knees, and try if + anything is to be seen.” + </p> + <p> + With a wondering glance at the courtier's white, twitching face, the + unfortunate young man went down on all fours to do his bidding. After all—poor + fellow!—he was hardly intelligent as Fortemani opined. + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing, Excellency,” he said. “The plaster is cracked. But—— + Ah!” + </p> + <p> + In a panic of haste Gonzaga had whipped the dagger from its sheath and + sunk it into the middle of Aventano's broad back. The fellow's arms slid + out, and with a long-drawn, gurgling sigh he sank down and stretched + himself horribly on the stones. + </p> + <p> + In that instant the clouds parted overhead and the sun came out in a blaze + of golden glory. High above Gonzaga's head a lark burst into song. + </p> + <p> + For a moment the assassin remained standing above the body of his victim + with head sunk between the shoulders like a man who expects a blow, his + face grey, his teeth chattering, and his mouth twitching hideously. A + shudder shook him. It was the first life he had taken, and that carrion at + his feet filled him with sickly horror. Not for a kingdom—not to + save his vile soul from the eternal damnation that act had earned it—would + he have dared stoop to pluck the dagger from the back of the wretch he had + murdered. With something like a scream he turned, and fled in a panic from + the spot. Panting with horror, yet subconsciously aware of the work he had + to do, he paused a moment to wave a kerchief, then dashed down the steps + to the postern. + </p> + <p> + With trembling fingers he unlocked the door and set it wide to Gian + Maria's men, who, in answer to his signal, were now hurrying forward with + a bridge composed of pine trees, that they had hastily and roughly put + together during the previous day. This, with some efforts and more noise + than Gonzaga relished, was thrust across the moat. One of the men crept + across, and assisted Gonzaga to make fast his end. + </p> + <p> + A moment later Gian Maria and Guidobaldo stood in the castle-yard, and + after them came almost every man of the five score that Gian Maria had + brought to that siege. This was what Francesco had confidently expected, + knowing that it was not his cousin's way to run any risks. + </p> + <p> + The Duke of Babbiauo, whose face was disfigured by a bristling hedge of + reddish stubble—for in obedience to the vow he had made, he now + carried a fortnight's growth of beard on his round face—turned to + Gonzaga. + </p> + <p> + “Is all well?” he asked, in a friendly tone, whilst Guidobaldo + contemptuously eyed the popinjay. + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga assured them that the whole thing had been effected without + disturbing the garrison at their prayers. Now that he deemed himself well + protected his usual serenity of manner returned. + </p> + <p> + “You may felicitate yourself, Highness,” he ventured to say, with a grin, + to Guidobaldo, “that you have reared your niece in devout ways.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you address me?” quoth the Duke of Urbino coldly. “I trust it may not + again be necessary.” + </p> + <p> + Before the look of loathing in his handsome face Gonzaga cringed. Gian + Maria laughed in his piping treble. + </p> + <p> + “Have I not served your Highness faithfully?” fawned the gallant. + </p> + <p> + “So has the meanest scullion in my kitchens, the lowliest groom in my + stables—and with more honour to himself,” answered the proud Duke. + “Yet he does not go the length of jesting with me.” His eye carried a + menace so eloquent that Gonzaga drew back, afraid; but Gian Maria clapped + him on the shoulder in a friendly manner. + </p> + <p> + “Be of good heart, Judas,” he laughed, his pale face a-grin, “I shall find + room for you in Babbiano, and work too, if you do it as well as this. + Come; the men are here now. Let us go forward whilst they are at their + prayers. But we must not disturb them,” he added, more seriously. “I will + not be guilty of an impiety. We can lie in wait for them without.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed gaily, for he seemed in a preposterously good humour, and + bidding Gonzaga lead the way he followed, with Guidobaldo at his side. + They crossed the courtyard, where his men were ranged, armed to the teeth, + and at the door of the archway leading to the inner court they paused for + Gonzaga to open it. + </p> + <p> + A moment the gallant stood staring. Then he turned a face of consternation + on the Dukes. His knees shook visibly. + </p> + <p> + “It is locked,” he announced, in a husky voice. + </p> + <p> + “We made too much noise in entering,” suggested Guidobaldo, “and they have + taken the alarm.” + </p> + <p> + The explanation relieved the growing uneasiness in Gian Maria's mind. He + turned with an oath to his men. + </p> + <p> + “Here, some of you,” his sharp voice commanded. “Beat me down this door. + By the Host! Do the fools think to keep me out so easily?” + </p> + <p> + The door was broken down, and they advanced. But only some half-dozen + paces, for at the end of that short gallery they found the second door + barring their progress. Through this, too, they broke, Gian Maria fiercely + blaspheming at the delay. Yet when it was done he was none so eager to + lead the way. + </p> + <p> + In the second courtyard he deemed it extremely probable that they should + find Valentina's soldiers awaiting them. So bidding his men pass on, he + remained behind with Guidobaldo until he heard word that the inner court + was likewise empty. + </p> + <p> + And now the entire hundred of his followers were assembled there to + overpower the twenty that served Monna Valentina; and Guidobaldo—despite + Gian Maria's scruples—strode coolly forward to the chapel door. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Within the chapel Mass had started. Fra Domenico at the foot of the altar + had pattered through the Confiteor, his deep voice responded to by the + soprano of the ministering page. The Kyrie was being uttered when the + attention of the congregation was attracted by the sound of steps + approaching the chapel door to the accompaniment of an ominous clank of + steel. The men rose in a body, fearing treachery, and cursing—despite + the sanctity of the place—the circumstance that they were without + weapons. + </p> + <p> + Then the door opened, and down the steps rang the armed heels of the + new-comers, so that every eye was turned upon them, including that of Fra + Domenico, who had pronounced the last “Christe eleison” in a quavering + voice. + </p> + <p> + A gasp of relief, followed by an angry cry from Valentina, went up when + they recognised those that came. First stepped the Count of Aquila in full + armour, sword at side and dagger on hip, carrying his head-piece on the + crook of his left arm. Behind him towered the bulk of Fortemani, his great + face flushed with a strange excitement, a leather hacketon over his steel + cuirass, girt, too, with sword and dagger, and carrying his shining morion + in his hand. Last came Lanciotto and Zaccaria, both fully equipped and + armed at all points. + </p> + <p> + “Who are you that come thus accoutred into God's House to interrupt the + holy Mass?” cried the bass voice of the friar. + </p> + <p> + “Patience, good father,” answered Francesco calmly, “The occasion is our + justification.” + </p> + <p> + “What does this mean, Fortemani?” demanded Valentina imperiously, her eyes + angrily set upon her captain, utterly ignoring the Count. “Do you betray + me too?” + </p> + <p> + “It means, Madonna,” answered the giant bluntly, “that your lap-dog, + Messer Gonzaga, is at this very moment admitting Gian Maria and his forces + to Roccaleone, by the postern.” + </p> + <p> + There was a hoarse cry from the men, which Francesco silenced by a wave of + his mailed hand. + </p> + <p> + Valentina looked wildly at Fortemani, and then, as if drawn by a greater + will than her own, her eyes were forced to travel to the Count. He + instantly advanced, and bowed his head before her. + </p> + <p> + “Madonna, this is no hour for explanations. Action is needed, and that at + once. I was wrong in not disclosing my identity to you before you + discovered it by such unfortunate means and with the assistance of the + only traitor Roccaleone has harboured, Romeo Gonzaga—who, as + Fortemani has just told you, is at this moment admitting my cousin and + your uncle to the castle. But that my object was ever other than to serve + you, or that I sought, as was represented to you, to turn this siege to my + own political profit, that, Madonna, I implore you in your own interests + to believe untrue.” + </p> + <p> + She sank on to her knees and with folded hands began to pray to the Mother + of Mercy, deeming herself lost, for his tone carried conviction, and he + had said that Gian Maria was entering the castle. + </p> + <p> + “Madonna,” he cried, touching her lightly on the shoulder; “let your + prayers wait until they can be of thanksgiving. Listen. By the vigilance + of Peppe there, who, good soul that he is, never lost faith in me or + deemed me a dastard, we were informed last night—Fortemani and I—of + this that Gonzaga was preparing. And we have made our plans and prepared + the ground. When Gian Maria's soldiers enter, they will find the outer + doors barred and locked, and we shall gain a little time while they break + through them. My men, as you will observe, are even now barring the door + of the chapel to impose a further obstacle. Now while they are thus + engaged we must act. Briefly, then, if you will trust us we will bear you + out of this, for we four have worked through the night to some purpose.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him through a film of tears, her face drawn and startled. + Then she put her hands to her brow in a gesture of bewildered + helplessness. + </p> + <p> + “But they will follow us,” she complained. + </p> + <p> + “Not so,” he answered, smiling. “For that, too, have we provided. Come, + Madonna, time presses.” + </p> + <p> + A long moment she looked at him. Then brushing aside the tears that dimmed + her sight, she set a hand on either of his shoulders, and stood so, before + them all, gazing up into his calm face. + </p> + <p> + “How shall I know that what you say is true—that I may trust you?” + she asked, but her voice was not the voice of one that demands an + overwhelming proof ere she will believe. + </p> + <p> + “By my honour and my knighthood,” he answered, in a ringing voice, “I make + oath here, at the foot of God's altar, that my purpose—my only + purpose—has been, is, and shall be to serve you, Monna Valentina.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe you,” she cried; to sob a moment later: + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me, Francesco, and may God, too, forgive my lack of faith in + you.” + </p> + <p> + He softly breathed her name in such sweet accents that a happy peace + pervaded her, and the bright courage of yore shone in her brown eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Come, sirs!” he cried now, with a sudden briskness that startled them + into feverish obedience. “You, Fra Domenico, cut off your sacerdotals, and + gird high your habit. There is climbing for you. Here, a couple of you, + move aside that altar-step. My men and I have spent the night in loosening + its old hinges.” + </p> + <p> + They raised the slab, and in the gap beneath it was disclosed a flight of + steps leading down to the dungeons and cellars of Roccaleone. + </p> + <p> + Down this they went in haste but in good order, marshalled by Francesco, + and when the last had passed down, he and Lanciotto, aided by others + below, who had seized a rope that he had lowered them, replaced the slab + from underneath, so that no trace should remain of the way by which they + had come. + </p> + <p> + A postern had been unbarred below by Fortemani, who had led the way with a + half-dozen of the men; and a huge scaling ladder that lay in readiness in + that subterranean gallery was rushed out across the moat, which at this + point was a roaring torrent. + </p> + <p> + Fortemani was the first to descend that sloping bridge, and upon reaching + the ground he made fast the lower end. + </p> + <p> + Next went a dozen men at Francesco's bidding, armed with the pikes that + had been left overnight in the gallery. At a word of command they slipped + quietly away. Then came the women, and lastly, the remainder of the men. + </p> + <p> + Of the enemy they caught no glimpse; not so much as a sentry, for every + one of Gian Maria's men had been pressed into the investment of the + castle. Thus they emerged from Roccaleone, and made their way down that + rough bridge into the pleasant meadows to the south. Already Fortemani and + his dozen men had disappeared at the trot, making for the front of the + castle, when Francesco stepped last upon the bridge, and closed the + postern after him. Then he glided rapidly to the ground, and with the + assistance of a dozen ready hands he dragged away the scaling ladder. They + carried it some yards from the brink of the torrent, and deposited it in + the meadow. With a laugh of purest relish Francesco stepped to Valentina's + side. + </p> + <p> + “It will exercise their minds to discover how we got out,” he cried, “and + they will be forced to the conclusion that we are angels all, with wings + beneath our armour. We have not left them a single ladder or a strand of + rope in Roccaleone by which to attempt to follow us, even if they discover + how we came. But come, Valentina mia, the comedy is not finished yet. + Already Fortemani will have removed the bridge by which they entered and + engaged such few men as may have been left behind, and we have the High + and Mighty Gian Maria in the tightest trap that was ever fashioned.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXV. THE CAPITULATION OF ROCCALEONE + </h2> + <p> + In the sunshine of that bright May morning Francesco and his men went + merrily to work to possess themselves of the ducal camp, and the first + business of the day was to arm those soldiers who had come out unarmed. Of + weapons there was no lack, and to these they helped themselves in liberal + fashion, whilst here and there a man would pause to don a haubergeon or + press a steel cap on his head. + </p> + <p> + Three sentries only had been left to guard the tents, and of these + Fortemani and a couple of his men had made prisoners whilst the others + were removing the bridge by which the invaders had entered. And now + beneath the open postern by the drawbridge gaped a surging torrent that no + man would have the hardihood to attempt to swim. + </p> + <p> + In that opening, presently, appeared Gian Maria, his face red for once, + and behind him a clamouring crowd of men-at-arms who shared their master's + rage at the manner in which they had been trapped. + </p> + <p> + At the rear of the tents Valentina and her ladies awaited the issue of the + parley that now seemed toward. The bulk of the men were busy at Gian + Maria's cannons, and under Francesco's supervision they were training them + upon the drawbridge. + </p> + <p> + From the castle a mighty shout went up. The men disappeared from the + postern to reappear a moment later on the ramparts, and Francesco laughed + deep down in his throat as he perceived the purpose of this. They had + bethought them of the guns that were mounted there, and were gone to use + them against Valentina's little army. Gun after gun they tried, and a + fierce cry of rage burst forth when they realised by what dummies they had + been held in check during the past week. This was followed by a silence of + some moments, terminated at last by the sound of a bugle. + </p> + <p> + Answering that summons to a parley, and with a last word of injunction to + Fortemani, who was left in charge of the men at the guns, Francesco rode + forward on one of Gian Maria's horses, escorted by Lanciotto and Zaccaria + similarly mounted, and each armed with a loaded arquebuse. + </p> + <p> + Under the walls of Roccaleone he drew rein, laughing to himself at this + monstrous change of sides. As he halted—helmet on head, but beaver + open—a body came hurtling over the battlements and splashed into the + foaming waters below. It was the corpse of Aventano, which Gian Maria had + peremptorily bidden them to remove from his sight. + </p> + <p> + “I desire to speak with Monna Valentina della Rovere,” cried the furious + Duke. + </p> + <p> + “You may speak with me, Gian Maria,” answered Francesco's voice, clear and + metallic. “I am her representative, her sometime Provost of Roccaleone.” + </p> + <p> + “Who are you?” quoth the Duke, struck by a familiar note in that mocking + voice. + </p> + <p> + “Francesco del Falco, Count of Aquila.” + </p> + <p> + “By God! You!” + </p> + <p> + “An age of marvels, is it not?” laughed Francesco. + </p> + <p> + “Which will you lose, my cousin—a wife or a duchy?” + </p> + <p> + Rage struck Gian Maria speechless for a moment. Then he turned to + Guidobaldo and whispered something; but Guidobaldo, who seemed vastly + interested now in this knight below, merely shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “I will lose neither, Messer Francesco,” roared the Duke. “Neither, by + God!” he screamed. “Neither, do you hear me?” + </p> + <p> + “I should be deaf else,” was the easy answer, “But you are gravely at + fault. One or the other you must relinquish, and it is yours to make a + choice between them. The game has gone against you, Gian Maria, and you + must pay.” + </p> + <p> + “But have I no voice in the bartering of my niece?” asked Guidobaldo, with + cold dignity. “Is it for you, Lord Count, to say whether your cousin shall + wed her or not?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no. He may wed her if he will, but he will be a duke no longer. In + fact, he will be an outcast with no title to lay claim to, if indeed the + Babbianians will leave him a head at all; whilst I, at least, though not a + duke with a tottering throne, am a count with lands, small but securely + held, and shall become a duke if Gian Maria refuses to relinquish me your + niece. So that if he be disposed to marry her, will you be disposed to let + her marry a homeless vagrant or a headless corpse?” + </p> + <p> + Guidobaldo's face seemed to change, and his eyes looked curiously at the + white-faced Duke beside him. + </p> + <p> + “So you are the other pretender to my niece's hand, Lord Count?” he asked, + in his coldest voice. + </p> + <p> + “I am, Highness,” answered Francesco quietly. “The matter stands thus: + Unless Gian Maria is in Babbiano by morning, he forfeits his crown, and it + passes to me by the voice of the people; but if he will relinquish his + claim to Monna Valentina in my favour, then I shall journey straight to + Aquila, and I shall trouble Babbiano no more. If he refuses, and insists + upon this wedding, abhorrent to Monna Valentina, why, then, my men shall + hold him captive behind those walls until it be too late for him to reach + his duchy in time to save the crown. In the meantime I will ride to + Babbiano in his stead, and—reluctant though I be to play the duke—I + shall accept the throne and silence the people's importunities. He can + then endeavour to win your Highness's consent to the union.” + </p> + <p> + For perhaps the first time in his life Guidobaldo was guilty of an act of + positive discourtesy. He broke into a laugh—a boisterous, amused + laugh that cut into Gian Maria's heart like a knife. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Lord Count,” he said, “I confess that you have us very much in your + hands to mould us as you will. Now, you are such a soldier and such a + strategist as it would pleasure me to have about my person in Urbino. What + says your Highness?” he continued, turning now to the almost speechless + Gian Maria. “I have yet another niece with whom we might cement the union + of the two duchies; and she might prove more willing. Women, it seems, + will insist upon being women. Do you not think that Monna Valentina and + this your valiant cousin——” + </p> + <p> + “Heed him not!” screamed Gian Maria, now in a white heat of passion. “He + is a smooth-tongued dog that would argue the very devil out of hell. Make + no terms with the hind! I have a hundred men, and——” He swung + suddenly round. “Let down that drawbridge, cowards!” he bawled at them, + “and sweep me those animals from my tents.” + </p> + <p> + “Gian Maria, I give you warning,” cried Francesco, loudly and firmly. “I + have trained your own guns on to that bridge, and at the first attempt to + lower it I'll blow it into splinters. You come not out of Roccaleone save + at my pleasure and upon my terms, and if you lose your duchy by your + obstinacy, it will be your own work; but answer me now, that I may take my + course.” + </p> + <p> + Guidobaldo, too, restrained Gian Maria, and countermanded his order for + the lowering of the bridge. And now on his other side Gonzaga crept up to + him, and whispered into his ear the suggestion that he should wait until + night had fallen. + </p> + <p> + “Wait until night, fool!” blazed the Duke, turning on him, in a fierce joy + at finding one whom he might rend. “If I wait until then, my throne is + lost to me. This comes of sorting with traitors. It is your fault, you + Judas!” he cried more fiercely still, his face distorted; “but you at + least shall pay for what you have done.” + </p> + <p> + Gonzaga saw a sudden flash of steel before his eyes, and a piercing scream + broke from him as Gian Maria's dagger buried itself in his breast. Too + late Guidobaldo put forward a hand to stay the Duke. + </p> + <p> + And so, by a strangely avenging justice, the magnificent Gonzaga sank dead + on the very spot on which he had so cravenly and dastardly poniarded + Aventano. + </p> + <p> + “Throw me that carrion into the moat,” growled Gian Maria, still quivering + with rage that had prompted his ferocious act. + </p> + <p> + He was obeyed, and thus murdered and murderer were united in a common + grave. + </p> + <p> + After the first attempt to restrain Gian Maria, Guidobaldo had looked on + in unconcern, deeming the act a very fitting punishment of a man with + whose treachery he, at least, had never been in sympathy. + </p> + <p> + As he saw the body vanish in the torrent below, Gian Maria seemed to + realise what he had done. His anger fell from him, and with bent head he + piously crossed himself. Then turning to an attendant who stood at his + elbow: + </p> + <p> + “See that a Mass is said for his soul to-morrow,” he solemnly bade him. + </p> + <p> + As if the act had served to pacify him and restore him to his senses, Gian + Maria now stepped forward and asked his cousin, in calmer tones than he + had hitherto employed, to make clear the terms on which he would permit + him to return to Babbiano within the time to which his people limited him. + </p> + <p> + “They are no more than that you relinquish your claim to Monna Valentina, + and that you find consolation—as I think his Highness of Urbino has + himself suggested—in the Lord Guidobaldo's younger niece.” + </p> + <p> + Before he could reply Guidobaldo was urging him, in a low voice to accept + the terms. + </p> + <p> + “What else is there for you?” Montefeltro ended pregnantly. + </p> + <p> + “And this other niece of yours——?” quoth Gian Maria lamely. + </p> + <p> + “I have already passed my word,” answered Guidobaldo. + </p> + <p> + “And Monna Valentina?” the other almost whined. + </p> + <p> + “May wed this headstrong condottiero of hers. I'll not withstand them. + Come; I am your friend in this. I am even sacrificing Valentina to your + interests. For if you persist, he will ruin you. The game is his, my lord. + Acknowledge your defeat, as I acknowledge mine, and pay.” + </p> + <p> + “But what is your defeat to mine?” cried Gian Maria, who saw through + Guidobaldo's appreciation of the fact that such a nephew-in-law as + Francesco del Falco was far from undesirable in the troublous times that + threatened. + </p> + <p> + “It is at least as absolute,” returned Guidobaldo, with a shrug. And in + this vein the Duke of Urbino continued for some moments, till, in the end, + Gian Maria found himself not only deserted by his ally, but having this + ally now combating on his cousin's side and pressing him to accept his + cousin's terms, distasteful though they were. Thus urged, Gian Maria + lamely acknowledged his defeat and his willingness to pay the forfeit. + With that he asked how soon he might be permitted to leave the castle. + </p> + <p> + “Why, at once, now that I have your word,” answered Francesco readily, + whereat treachery gleamed from Gian Maria's eye, to be swiftly quenched by + Francesco's next words. “But lest your men and mine should come to trouble + with one another, you will order yours to come forth without arms or + armour, and you will depose your own. His Highness Guidobaldo is the only + man in whose favour I can make an exception to this condition. Let it be + broken, and I promise you that you will very bitterly regret it. At sight + of the first armed man issuing from those gates, I'll give the word to + fire on you, and your own guns shall work your destruction.” + </p> + <p> + Thus was the second siege of Roccaleone ended almost as soon as it was + begun, and thus did Gian Maria capitulate to the conqueror. The Duke of + Babbiano and his men marched out sheepishly and silently, and took their + way to Babbiano, no word—not even so much as a glance—passing + between Gian Maria and the lady who had been the cause of his + discomfiture, and who blithely looked on at his departure. + </p> + <p> + Guidobaldo and his few attendants lingered after his late ally had gone. + Then he bade Francesco lead him to his niece, in which Francesco readily + obeyed him. + </p> + <p> + The Duke embraced her coldly—still that he embraced her at all after + what was passed augured well. + </p> + <p> + “You will come with me to Urbino, Lord Count?” he said suddenly to + Francesco. “It were best to celebrate the nuptials there. Everything is in + readiness—for all had been prepared for Gian Maria.” + </p> + <p> + A great joy came into Valentina's eyes; her cheeks flushed and her glance + fell; but Francesco scanned the Duke's face with the keen eye of one who + is incredulous of so much good fortune. + </p> + <p> + “Your Highness means me well?” he made bold to ask. Guidobaldo stiffened, + and a frown broke the serenity of his lofty brow. + </p> + <p> + “You have my princely word,” he answered solemnly, at which, with bended + knee, Francesco stooped to kiss his ducal hand. + </p> + <p> + And so they departed on the horses that they kept as the spoils of war. + They made a goodly show, Guidobaldo riding at their head, with Francesco + and Valentina, whilst the rear was brought up by Peppe and Fra Domenico, + who, touched by this epidemic of goodwill, were at last fraternising with + each other. + </p> + <p> + And as they rode it chanced that presently Guidobaldo fell behind, so that + for a moment Francesco and Valentina found themselves alone a little ahead + of the others. She turned to him, a shyness in her brown eyes, a tremble + at the corners of her red lips: + </p> + <p> + “You have not yet said that you forgive me, Francesco,” she complained, in + a timerous whisper. “Were it not seemly that you did since we are to be + wed so soon?” + </p> + +<div style='display:block;margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOVE-AT-ARMS ***</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0;'>This file should be named 3530-h.htm or 3530-h.zip</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0;'>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in https://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/3/3530/</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Love-at-Arms + +Author: Raphael Sabatini + +Posting Date: February 9, 2009 [EBook #3530] +Release Date: 2002 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOVE-AT-ARMS *** + + + + +Produced by John Stuart Middleton + + + + + +LOVE-AT-ARMS + +Being a narrative excerpted from the chronicles of Urbino during the +dominion of the High and Mighty Messer Guidobaldo da Montefeltro + + +By Raphael Sabatini + + + + + "Le donne, i cavalier', l'arme, gli amori, + Le cortesie, l'audace imprese io canto." + + ARIOSTO + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER + + I. VOX POPULI + + II. ON A MOUNTAIN PATH + + III. SACKCLOTH AND MOTLEY + + IV. MONNA VALENTINA + + V. GIAN MARIA + + VI. THE AMOROUS DUKE + + VII. GONZAGA THE INSIDIOUS + + VIII. AMONG THE DREGS OF WINE + + IX. THE "TRATTA DI CORDE" + + X. THE BRAYING OF AN ASS + + XI. WANDERING KNIGHTS + + XII. THE FOOL'S INQUISITIVENESS + + XIII. GIAN MARIA MAKES A VOW + + XIV. FORTEMANI DRINKS WATER + + XV. THE MERCY OF FRANCESCO + + XVI. GONZAGA UNMASKS + + XVII. THE ENEMY + +XVIII. TREACHERY + + XIX. PLOT AND COUNTERPLOT + + XX. THE LOVERS + + XXI. THE PENITENT + + XXII. A REVELATION + +XXIII. IN THE ARMOURY TOWER + + XXIV. THE INTERRUPTED MASS + + XXV. THE CAPITULATION OF ROCCALEONE + + + + +CHAPTER I. VOX POPULI + + +From the valley, borne aloft on the wings of the evening breeze, rose +faintly the tolling of an Angelus bell, and in a goat-herd's hut on the +heights above stood six men with heads uncovered and bowed, obeying +its summons to evening prayer. A brass lamp, equipped with three beaks, +swung from the grimy ceiling, and, with more smoke than flame, shed +an indifferent light, and yet a more indifferent smell, throughout the +darkening hovel. But it sufficed at least to reveal in the accoutrements +and trappings of that company a richness that was the more striking by +contrast with the surrounding squalor. + +As the last stroke of the Ave Maria faded on the wind that murmured +plaintively through the larches of the hillside, they piously crossed +themselves, and leisurely resuming their head-gear, they looked at one +another with questioning glances. Yet before any could voice the inquiry +that was in the minds of all, a knock fell upon the rotten timbers of +the door. + +"At last!" exclaimed old Fabrizio da Lodi, in a voice charged with +relief, whilst a younger man of good shape and gay garments strode to +the door in obedience to Fabrizio's glance, and set it wide. + +Across the threshold stepped a tall figure under a wide, featherless +hat, and wrapped in a cloak which he loosened as he entered, revealing +the very plainest of raiment beneath. A leather hacketon was tightened +at the waist by a girdle of hammered steel, from which depended on his +left a long sword with ringed, steel quillons, whilst from behind his +right hip peeped the hilt of a stout Pistoja dagger. His hose of red +cloth vanished into boots of untanned leather, laced in front and turned +down at the knees, and completed in him the general appearance of a +mercenary in time of peace, in spite of which the six nobles, in that +place of paradoxes, bared their heads anew, and stood in attitudes of +deferential attention. + +He paused a moment to throw off his cloak, of which the young man who +had admitted him hastened to relieve him as readily as if he had been +born a servitor. He next removed his hat, and allowed it to remain +slung from his shoulders, displaying, together with a still youthful +countenance of surpassing strength and nobility, a mane of jet-black +hair coiffed in a broad net of gold thread--the only article of apparel +that might have suggested his station to be higher than at first had +seemed. + +He stepped briskly to the coarse and grease-stained table, about which +the company was standing, and his black eyes ran swiftly over the faces +that confronted him. + +"Sirs," he said at last, "I am here. My horse went lame a half-league +beyond Sant' Angelo, and I was constrained to end the journey on foot." + +"Your Excellency will be tired," cried Fabrizio, with that ready +solicitude which is ever at the orders of the great. "A cup of Puglia +wine, my lord. Here, Fanfulla," he called, to the young nobleman who had +acted as usher. But the new-comer silenced him and put the matter aside +with a gesture. + +"Let that wait. Time imports as you little dream. It may well be, +illustrious sirs, that had I not come thus I had not come at all." + +"How?" cried one, expressing the wonder that rose in every mind, even as +on every countenance some consternation showed. "Are we betrayed?" + +"If you are in case to fear betrayal, it may well be, my friends. As I +crossed the bridge over the Metauro and took the path that leads hither, +my eyes were caught by a crimson light shining from a tangle of bushes +by the roadside. That crimson flame was a reflection of the setting sun +flashed from the steel cap of a hidden watcher. The path took me nearer, +and with my hat so set that it might best conceal my face, I was all +eyes. And as I passed the spot where that spy was ambushed, I discerned +among the leaves that might so well have screened him, but that the sun +had found his helmet out, the evil face of Masuccio Torri." There was a +stir among the listeners, and their consternation increased, whilst one +or two changed colour. "For whom did he wait? That was the question +that I asked myself, and I found the answer that it was for me. If I was +right, he must also know the distance I had come, so that he would not +look to see me afoot, nor yet, perhaps, in garments such as these. +And so, thanks to all this and to the hat and cloak in which I closely +masked myself, he let me pass unchallenged." + +"By the Virgin!" exclaimed Fabrizio hotly, "I'll swear your conclusions +were wrong. In all Italy it was known to no man beyond us six that you +were to meet us here, and with my hand upon the Gospels I could swear +that not one of us has breathed of it." + +He looked round at his companions as if inviting them to bear out his +words, and they were not slow to confirm what he had sworn, in terms +as vehement as his own, until in the end the new-comer waved them into +silence. + +"Nor have I breathed it," he assured them, "for I respected your +injunction, Messer Fabrizio. Still--what did Masuccio there, hidden like +a thief, by the roadside? Sirs," he continued, in a slightly altered +tone, "I know not to what end you have bidden me hither, but if aught of +treason lurks in your designs, I cry you beware! The Duke has knowledge +of it, or at least, suspicion. If that spy was not set to watch for +me, why, then, he was set to watch for all, that he may anon inform his +master what men were present at this meeting." + +Fabrizio shrugged his shoulders in a contemptuous indifference which was +voiced by his neighbour Ferrabraccio. + +"Let him be informed," sneered the latter, a grim smile upon his rugged +face. "The knowledge will come to him too late." + +The new-comer threw back his head, and a look that was half wonder, half +enlightenment gleamed in the black depths of his imperious eyes. He took +a deep breath. + +"It would seem, sirs, that I was right," said he, with a touch of +sternness, "and that treason is indeed your business." + +"My Lord of Aquila," Fabrizio answered him, "we are traitors to a man +that we may remain faithful and loyal to a State." + +"What State?" barked the Lord of Aquila contemptuously. + +"The Duchy of Babbiano," came the answer. + +"You would be false to the Duke that you may be faithful to the Duchy?" +he questioned, scorn running ever stronger in his voice. "Sirs, it is a +riddle I'll not pretend to solve." + +There fell a pause in which they eyed one another, and their glances +were almost as the glances of baffled men. They had not looked for +such a tone from him, and they questioned with their eyes and minds the +wisdom of going further. At last, with a half-sigh, Fabrizio da Lodi +turned once more to Aquila. + +"Lord Count," he began, in a calm, impressive voice, "I am an old man; +the name I bear and the family from which I spring are honourable alike. +You cannot think so vilely of me as to opine that in my old age I should +do aught to smirch the fair fame of the one or of the other. To be named +a traitor, sir, is to be given a harsh title, and one, I think, that +could fit no man less than it fits me or any of these my companions. +Will you do me the honour, then, to hear me out, Excellency; and when +you have heard me, judge us. Nay, more than judgment we ask of you, Lord +Count. We ask for guidance that we may save our country from the ruin +that threatens it, and we promise you that we will take no step that has +not your sanction--that is not urged by you." + +Francesco del Falco, Count of Aquila, eyed the old noble with a glance +that had changed whilst he spoke, so that from scornful that it had +been, it had now grown full of mild wonder and inquiry. He slightly +inclined his head in token of acquiescence. + +"I beg that you will speak," was all he said, and Fabrizio would +forthwith have spoken but that Ferrabraccio intervened to demand that +Aquila should pass them his knightly word not to betray them in the +event of his rejection of the proposals they had to make. When he had +given them his promise, and they had seated themselves upon such rude +stools as the place afforded, Fabrizio resumed his office of spokesman, +and unfolded the business upon which he had invited the Count among +them. + +In a brief preamble he touched upon the character of Gian Maria Sforza, +the reigning Duke of Babbiano--seated upon its throne by his powerful +uncle, Lodovico Sforza, Lord of Milan. He exposed the man's reckless +extravagances, his continued self-indulgence, his carelessness in +matters of statecraft, and his apparent disinclination to fulfil the +duties which his high station imposed upon him. On all this Fabrizio +touched with most commendable discretion and restraint, as was demanded +by the circumstance that in Francesco del Falco he was addressing the +Duke's own cousin. + +"So far, Excellency," he continued, "you cannot be in ignorance of the +general dissatisfaction prevailing among our most illustrious cousin's +subjects. There was the conspiracy of Bacolino, a year ago, which, had +it succeeded, would have cast us into the hands of Florence. It failed, +but another such might not fail again. The increased disfavour of +his Highness may bring more adherents to a fresh conspiracy of this +character, and we should be lost as an independent state. And the peril +that menaces us is the peril of being so lost. Not only by defection +of our own, but by the force of arms of another. That other is Caesar +Borgia. His dominion is spreading like a plague upon the face of this +Italy, which he has threatened to eat up like an artichoke--leaf by +leaf. Already his greedy eyes are turned upon us, and what power +have we--all unready as we are--wherewith successfully to oppose the +overwhelming might of the Duke of Valentinois? All this his Highness +realises, for we have made it more than clear to him, as we have, too, +made clear the remedy. Yet does he seem as indifferent to his danger as +to his salvation. His time is spent in orgies, in dancing, in hawking +and in shameful dalliance, and if we dare throw out a word of warning, +threats and curses are the only answer we receive." + +Da Lodi paused, as if growing conscious that his manner was becoming +over-vehement. But of this, his companions, at least, were all +unconscious, for they filled the pause with a murmur of angry +confirmation. Francesco wrinkled his brow, and sighed. + +"I am--alas!--most fully conscious of this danger you speak of. +But--what do you expect of me? Why bear me your grievance? I am no +statesman." + +"Here is no statesman needed, lord. It is a soldier Babbiano requires; +a martial spirit to organise an army against the invasion that must +come--that is coming already. In short, Lord Count, we need such a +warrior as are you. What man is there in all Italy--or, indeed, what +woman or what child--that has not heard of the prowess of the Lord of +Aquila? Your knightly deeds in the wars 'twixt Pisa and Florence, your +feats of arms and generalship in the service of the Venetians, are +matters for the making of epic song." + +"Messer Fabrizio!" murmured Paolo, seeking to restrain his eulogistic +interlocutor, what time a faint tinge crept into his bronzed cheeks. But +Da Lodi continued, all unheeding: + +"And shall you, my lord, who have borne yourself so valiantly as a +condottiero in the service of the stranger, hesitate to employ your +skill and valour against the enemies of your own homeland? Not so, +Excellency. We know the patriotic soul of Francesco del Falco, and we +count upon it." + +"And you do well," he answered firmly. "When the time comes you shall +find me ready. But until then, and touching such preparation as must be +made--why do you not address his Highness as you do me?" + +A sad smile crossed the noble face of Lodi, whilst Ferrabraccio laughed +outright in chill contempt, and with characteristic roughness made +answer: + +"Shall we speak to him," he cried, "of knightly deeds, of prowess, and +of valour? I would as lief enjoin Roderigo Borgia to fulfil the sacred +duties of his Vicarship; I might as profitably sprinkle incense on a +dunghill. What we could say to Gian Maria we have said, and since it had +been idle to have appealed to him as we have appealed to you, we +have shown him yet another way by which Babbiano might be saved and +Valentino's onslaught averted." + +"Ah! And this other way?" inquired the Count, his glance wandering back +to Fabrizio. + +"An alliance with the house of Urbino," answered Lodi. "Guidobaldo has +two nieces. We have sounded him, and we have found him well disposed +towards such a marriage as we suggested. Allied thus to the house of +Montefeltro, we should receive not only assistance from Guidobaldo, +but also from the lords of Bologna, Perugia, Camerino, and some smaller +states whose fortunes are linked already to that of Urbino. Thus we +should present to Cesar Borgia a coalition so strong that he would never +dare to bring a lance into our territory." + +"I heard some talk of it," said Paolo. "It would have been a wise step +indeed. Pity that the negotiations came to naught!" + +"But why did they come to naught? Body of Satan!--why?" roared the +impetuous Ferrabraccio, as with his mighty fist he smote the table +a blow that well-nigh shattered it. "Because Gian Maria was not in a +marrying mood! The girl we proposed to him was beautiful as an angel; +but he would not so much as look. There was a woman in Babbiano who----" + +"My lord," cut in Fabrizio hastily, fearing the lengths to which the +other might go, "it is as Ferrabraccio says. His Highness would not +marry. And this it is has led us to invite you to meet us here to-night. +His Highness will do nothing to save the Duchy, and so we turn to you. +The people are with us; in every street of Babbiano are you spoken of +openly as the duke they would have govern them and defend their homes. +In the sacred name of the people, then," the old man concluded, rising, +and speaking in a voice shaken by emotion, "and with the people's +voice, of which we are but the mouthpiece, we now offer you the crown +of Babbiano. Return with us to-night, my lord, and to-morrow, with but +twenty spears for escort, we shall ride into Babbiano and proclaim +you Duke. Nor need you fear the slightest opposition. One man only +of Babbiano--that same Masuccio whom you tell us that you saw +to-night--remains faithful to Gian Maria; faithful because he and the +fifty Swiss mercenaries at his heels are paid to be so. Up, my lord! +Let your own good sense tell you whether an honest man need scruple +to depose a prince whose throne knows no defence beyond the hired +protection of fifty foreign spears." + +A silence followed that impassioned speech. Lodi remained standing, +the others sat, their eager glances turned upon the Count, their ears +anxiously alert for his reply. Thus they remained for a brief spell, +Aquila himself so still that he scarcely seemed to breathe. + +He sat, gripping the arms of his chair, his head fallen forward until +his chin rested on his breast, a frown darkening his lofty brow. And +whilst they waited for his answer, a mighty battle was fought out within +his soul. The power so suddenly, so unexpectedly, thrust within his +reach, and offered him if he would but open his hands to grasp it, +dazzled him for one little moment. As in a flash he saw himself Lord of +Babbiano. He beheld a proud career of knightly deeds that should cause +his name and that of Babbiano to ring throughout the length and breadth +of Italy. From the obscure state that it was, his patriotism and +his skill as a condottiero should render it one of the great Italian +powers--the rival of Florence, of Venice or Milan. He had a vision of +widened territories, and of neighbouring lords becoming vassals to his +might. He saw himself wresting Romagna mile by mile from the sway of the +ribald Borgia, hunting him to the death as he was wont to hunt the boar +in the marshes of Commachio, or driving him into the very Vatican to +seek shelter within his father's gates--the last strip of soil that he +would leave him to lord it over. He dreamt of a Babbiano courted by the +great republics, and the honour of its alliance craved by them that they +might withstand the onslaughts of French and Spaniard. All this he saw +in that fleeting vision of his, and Temptation caught his martial spirit +in a grip of steel. And then another picture rose before his eyes. What +would he do in times of peace? His was a soul that pined in palaces. He +was born to the camp, and not to the vapid air of courts. In exchange +for this power that was offered him what must he give? His glorious +liberty. Become their lord in many things, to be their slave in more. +Nominally to rule, but actually to be ruled, until, should he fail to +do his rulers' will, there would be some night another meeting such as +this, in which men would plot to encompass his downfall and to supplant +him as he was invited to supplant Gian Maria. Lastly, he bethought +him of the man whose power he was bidden to usurp. His own cousin, his +father's sister's son, in whose veins ran the same blood as in his own. + +He raised his head at last, and met those anxious faces on which the +fitful light was casting harsh shadows. The pale ghost of a smile +hovered for a second on the corners of his stern mouth. + +"I thank you, sirs, for the honour you have done me," he made answer +slowly, "an honour of which I fear I am all unworthy." + +In strenuous chorus their voices rose to contradict him. + +"At least, then, an honour which I cannot accept." + +There was a moment's silence, and their faces from eager that they had +been, grew downcast to the point of sullenness. + +"But why, my lord?" cried old Fabrizio at last, his arms outstretched +towards the Count, his voice quivering with intensity. "Santissima +Vergine! Why?" + +"Because--to give you but one reason out of many--the man you ask me to +overthrow and supplant is of my own blood." And but that his tone was +calm they might have held that he rebuked them. + +"I had thought," hazarded seriously the gay Fanfulla, "that with such a +man as your Excellency, patriotism and the love of Babbiano would have +weighed even more than the ties of blood." + +"And you had thought well, Fanfulla. Did I not say that the reason I +gave you was but one of many? Tell me, sirs, what cause have you to +believe that I should rule you wisely and well? It so chances that in +the crisis now threatening Babbiano a captain is needed for its ruler. +But let not this delude you, for there may come a season in the fortunes +of the State when such a man might be as unfitted for dominion as is the +present Duke in this. What then? A good knight-errant is an indifferent +courtier and a bad statesman. Lastly, my friends--since you must know +all that is in my heart--there remains the fact that I love myself a +little. I love my liberty too well, and I have no mind to stifle in +the scented atmosphere of courts. You see I am frank with you. It is my +pleasure to roam the world, my harness on my back, free as the blessed +wind of heaven. Shall a ducal crown and a cloak of purple----" He broke +off sharply with a laugh. "There, my friends! You have had reasons and +to spare. Again I thank you, and deplore that being such as I am, I may +not become such as you would have me." + +He sank back in his chair, eyeing them with a glance never so wistful, +and after a second's silence, Da Lodi's voice implored him, in accents +that trembled with pathetic emphasis, to reconsider his resolve. The old +man would have proceeded to fresh argument, but Aquila cut him short. + +"I have already so well considered it, Messer Fabrizio," he answered +resolutely, "that nothing now could sway me. But this, sirs, I will +promise you: I will ride with you to Babbiano, and I will seek to reason +with my cousin. More will I do; I will seek at his hands the office of +Gonfalonier, and if he grant it me; I will so reorganise our forces, and +enter into such alliances with our neighbours as shall ensure, at least +in some degree, the safety of our State." + +Still they endeavoured to cajole him, but he held firm against their +efforts, until in the end, with a sorrowful mien, Da Lodi thanked him +for his promise to use his influence with Gian Maria. + +"For this, at least, we thank your Excellency, and on our part we shall +exert such power as we still wield in Babbiano to the end that the high +office of Gonfalonier be conferred upon you. We had preferred to see you +fill with honour a position higher still, and should you later come to +consider----" + +"Dismiss your hopes of that," put in the Count, with a solemn shake +of his head. And then, before another word was uttered, young Fanfulla +degli Arcipreti leapt of a sudden to his feet, his brows knit, and an +expression of alarm spreading upon his comely face. A second he +remained thus; then, going swiftly to the door, he opened it, and stood +listening, followed by the surprised glances of the assembled company. +But it needed not the warning cry with which he turned, to afford them +the explanation of his odd behaviour. In the moment's tense silence that +had followed his sudden opening of the door they had caught from without +the distant fall of marching feet. + + + + +CHAPTER II. ON A MOUNTAIN PATH + + +"Armed men, my lords!" had been Fanfulla's cry. "We are betrayed!" + +They looked at one another with stern eyes, and with that grimness that +takes the place which fear would hold in meaner souls. + +Then Aquila rose slowly to his feet, and with him rose the others, +looking to their weapons. He softly breathed a name--"Masuccio Torri." + +"Aye," cried Lodi bitterly, "would that we had heeded your warning! +Masuccio it will be, and at his heels his fifty mercenaries." + +"Not less, I'll swear, by the sound of them," said Ferrabraccio. "And we +but six, without our harness." + +"Seven," the Count laconically amended, resuming his hat and loosening +his sword in its scabbard. + +"Not so, my lord," exclaimed Lodi, laying a hand upon the Count's arm. +"You must not stay with us. You are our only hope--the only hope of +Babbiano. If we are indeed betrayed--though by what infernal means I +know not--and they have knowledge that six traitors met here to-night to +conspire against the throne of Gian Maria, at least, I'll swear, it is +not known that you were to have met us. His Highness may conjecture, +but he cannot know for sure, and if you but escape, all may yet he +well--saving with us, who matter not. Go, my lord! Remember your promise +to seek at your cousin's hand the gonfalon, and may God and His blessed +Saints prosper your Excellency." + +The old man caught the young man's hand, and bending his head until his +face was hidden in his long white hair, he imprinted a kiss of fealty +upon it. But Aquila was not so easily to be dismissed. + +"Where are your horses?" he demanded. + +"Tethered at the back. But who would dare ride them at night adown this +precipice?" + +"I dare for one," answered the young man steadily, "and so shall you all +dare. A broken neck is the worst that can befall us, and I would as +lief break mine on the rocks of Sant' Angelo as have it broken by the +executioner of Babbiano." + +"Bravely said, by the Virgin!" roared Ferrabraccio. "To horse, sirs!" + +"But the only way is the way by which they come," Fanfulla remonstrated. +"The rest is sheer cliff." + +"Why, then, my sweet seducer, we'll go to meet them," rejoined +Ferrabraccio gaily. "They are on foot, and we'll sweep over them like a +mountain torrent. Come, sirs, hasten! They draw nigh." + +"We have but six horses, and we are seven," another objected. + +"I have no horse," said Francesco, "I'll follow you afoot." + +"What?" cried Ferrabraccio, who seemed now to have assumed command of +the enterprise. "Let our St. Michael bring up the rear! No, no. You, Da +Lodi, you are too old for this work." + +"Too old?" blazed the old man, drawing himself up to the full height of +what was still a very imposing figure, and his eyes seeming to take +fire at this reflection upon his knightly worth. "Were the season other, +Ferrabraccio, I could crave leave to show you how much of youth there is +still left in me. But----" He paused. His angry eyes had alighted upon +the Count, who stood waiting by the door, and the whole expression +of his countenance changed. "You are right, Ferrabraccio, I grow old +indeed--a dotard. Take you my horse, and begone." + +"But you?" quoth the Count solicitously. + +"I shall remain. If you do your duty well by those hirelings they will +not trouble me. It will not occur to them that one was left behind. They +will think only of following you after you have cut through them. Go, +go, sirs, or all is lost." + +They obeyed him now with a rush that seemed almost to partake of panic. +In a frenzied haste Fanfulla and another tore the tetherings loose, and +a moment later they were all mounted and ready for that fearful ride. +The night was dark, yet not too dark. The sky was cloudless and thickly +starred, whilst a minguant moon helped to illumine the way by which they +were to go. But on that broken and uncertain mountain path the shadows +lay thickly enough to make their venture desperate. + +Ferrabraccio claiming a better knowledge than his comrades of the way, +placed himself at their head, with the Count beside him. Behind them, +two by two, came the four others. They stood on a small ledge in +the shadow of the great cliff that loomed on their left. Thence the +mountain-side might be scanned--as well as in such a light it was to be +discerned. The tramp of feet had now grown louder and nearer, and with +it came the clank of armour. In front of them lay the path which sloped, +for a hundred yards or more, to the first corner. Below them, on the +right, the path again appeared at the point where it jutted out for some +half-dozen yards in its zigzag course, and there Fanfulla caught the +gleam of steel, reflecting the feeble moonlight. He drew Ferrabraccio's +attention to it, and that stout warrior at once gave the word to start. +But Francesco interposed. + +"If we do so," he objected, "we shall come upon them past the corner, +and at that corner we shall be forced to slacken speed to avoid being +carried over the edge of the cliff. Besides, in such a strait our horses +may fail us, and refuse the ground. In any event, we shall not descend +upon them with the same force as we shall carry if we wait until they +come into a straight line with us. The shadows here will screen us from +them meanwhile." + +"You are right, Lord Count. We will wait," was the ready answer. And +what time they waited he grumbled lustily. + +"To be caught in such a trap as this! Body of Satan! It was a madness to +have met in a hut with but one approach." + +"We might perhaps have retreated down the cliff behind," said Francesco. + +"We might indeed--had we been sparrows or mountain cats. But being men, +the way we go is the only way--and a mighty bad way it is. I should like +to be buried at Sant' Angelo, Lord Count," he continued whimsically. "It +will be conveniently near; for once I go over the mountain-side, I'll +swear naught will stop me until I reach the valley--a parcel of broken +bones." + +"Steady, my friends," murmured the voice of Aquila. "They come." + +And round that fateful corner they were now swinging into view--a +company in steel heads and bodies with partisan on shoulder. A moment +they halted now, so that the waiting party almost deemed itself +observed. But it soon became clear that the halt was to the end that the +stragglers might come up. Masuccio was a man who took no chances; every +knave of his fifty would he have before he ventured the assault. + +"Now," murmured the Count, tightening his hat upon his brow, so that +it might the better mask his features. Then rising in his stirrups, +and raising his sword on high, he let his voice be heard again. But no +longer in a whisper. Like a trumpet-call it rang, echoed and re-echoed +up the mountain-side. + +"Forward! St. Michael and the Virgin!" + +That mighty shout, followed as it was by a thunder of hooves, gave pause +to the advancing mercenaries. Masuccio's voice was heard, calling to +them to stand firm; bidding them kneel and ward the charge with +their pikes; assuring them with curses that they had but to deal with +half-dozen men. But the mountain echoes were delusive, and that thunder +of descending hooves seemed to them not of a half-dozen but of a +regiment. Despite Masuccio's imprecations the foremost turned, and in +that moment the riders were upon them, through them and over them, like +the mighty torrent of which Ferrabraccio had spoken. + +A dozen Swiss went down beneath that onslaught, and another dozen that +had been swept aside and over the precipice were half-way to the valley +before that cavalcade met any check. Masuccio's remaining men strove +lustily to stem this human cataract, now that they realised how small +was the number of their assailants. They got their partisans to work, +and for a few moments the battle raged hot upon that narrow way. The air +was charged with the grind and ring of steel, the stamping of men and +horses and the shrieks and curses of the maimed. + +The Lord of Aquila, ever foremost, fought desperately on. Not only with +his sword fought he, but with his horse as well. Rearing the beast on +its hind legs, he would swing it round and let it descend where least it +was expected, laying about him with his sword at the same time. In vain +they sought to bring down his charger with their pikes; so swift and +furious was his action, that before their design could be accomplished, +he was upon those that meditated it, scattering them out of reach to +save their skins. + +In this ferocious manner he cleared a way before him, and luck served +him so well that what blows were wildly aimed at him as he dashed by +went wide of striking him. At last he was all but through the press, and +but three men now fronted him. Again his charger reared, snorting, and +pawing the air like a cat, and two of the three knaves before him fled +incontinently aside. But the third, who was of braver stuff, dropped on +one knee and presented his pike at the horse's belly. Francesco made a +wild attempt to save the roan that had served him so gallantly, but he +was too late. It came down to impale itself upon that waiting partisan. +With a hideous scream the horse sank upon its slayer, crushing him +beneath its mighty weight, and hurling its rider forward on to the +ground. In an instant he was up and had turned, for all that he was +half-stunned by his fall and weakened by the loss of blood from +a pike-thrust in the shoulder--of which he had hitherto remained +unconscious in the heat of battle. Two mercenaries were bearing down +upon him--the same two that had been the last to fall back before him. +He braced himself to meet them, thinking that his last hour was indeed +come, when Fanfulla degli Arcipreti, who had followed him closely +through the press, now descended upon his assailants from behind, and +rode them down. Beside the Count he reined up, and stretched down his +hand. + +"Mount behind me, Excellency," he urged him. + +"There is not time," answered Francesco, who discerned a half-dozen +figures hurrying towards them. "I will cling to your stirrup-leather, +thus. Now spur!" And without waiting for Fanfulla to obey him, he caught +the horse a blow with the flat of his sword across the hams, which sent +it bounding forward. Thus they continued now that perilous descent, +Fanfulla riding, and the Count half-running, half-swinging from his +stirrup. At last, when they had covered a half-mile in this fashion, +and the going had grown easier, they halted that the Count might mount +behind his companion, and as they now rode along at an easier pace +Francesco realised that he and Fanfulla were the only two that had come +through that ugly place. The gallant Ferrabraccio, hero of a hundred +strenuous battles, had gone to the ignoble doom which half in jest he +had prophesied himself. His horse had played him false at the outset of +the charge, and taking fright it had veered aside despite his efforts to +control it, until, losing its foothold, man and beast had gone hurtling +over the cliff. Amerini, Fanfulla had seen slain, whilst the remaining +two, being both unhorsed, would doubtless be the prisoners of Masuccio. + +Some three miles beyond Sant' Angelo, Fanfulla's weary horse splashed +across a ford of the Metauro, and thus, towards the second hour of +night, they gained the territory of Urbino, where for the time they +might hold themselves safe from all pursuit. + + + + +CHAPTER III. SACKCLOTH AND MOTLEY + + +The fool and the friar had fallen a-quarrelling, and--to the shame +of the friar and the glory of the fool be it spoken--their subject of +contention was a woman. Now the friar, finding himself no match for the +fool in words, and being as broad and stout of girth and limb as the +other was puny and misshapen, he had plucked off his sandal that with +it he might drive the full force of his arguments through the jester's +skull. At that the fool, being a very coward, had fled incontinently +through the trees. + +Running, like the fool he was, with his head turned to learn whether the +good father followed him, he never saw the figure that lay half-hidden +in the bracken, and might never have guessed its presence but that +tripping over it he shot forward, with a tinkle of bells, on to his +crooked nose. + +He sat up with a groan, which was answered by an oath from the man into +whose sides he had dug his flying feet. The two looked at one another in +surprise, tempered with anger in the one and dismay in the other. + +"A good awakening to you, noble sir," quoth the fool politely; for by +the mien and inches of the man he had roused, he thought that courtesy +might serve him best. + +The other eyed him with interest, as well he might; for an odder figure +it would be hard to find in Italy. + +Hunched of back, under-sized, and fragile of limb, he was arrayed in +doublet, hose and hood, the half of which was black the other crimson, +whilst on his shoulders fell from that same hood--which tightly framed +his ugly little face--a foliated cape, from every point of which there +hung a tiny silver bell that glimmered in the sunlight, and tinkled as +he moved. From under bulging brows a pair of bright eyes, set wide as an +owl's, took up the mischievous humour of his prodigious mouth. + +"A curse on you and him that sent you," was the answering greeting he +received. Then the man checked his anger and broke into a laugh at sight +of the fear that sprang into the jester's eyes. + +"I crave your pardon--most humbly do I crave it, Illustrious," said the +fool, still in fear. "I was pursued." + +"Pursued?" echoed the other, in a tone not free from a sudden +uneasiness. "And, pray, by whom?" + +"By the very fiend, disguised in the gross flesh and semblance of a +Dominican brother." + +"Do you jest?" came the angry question. + +"Jest? Had you caught his villainous sandal between your shoulders, as +did I, you would know how little I have a mind to jest." + +"Now answer me a plain question, if you have the wit to answer with," +quoth the other, anger ever rising in his voice. "Is there hereabouts a +monk?" + +"Aye, is there--may a foul plague rot him!--lurking in the bushes +yonder. He is over-fat to run, or you had seen him at my heels, arrayed +in that panoply of avenging wrath that is the cognisance of the Church +Militant." + +"Go bring him hither," was the short answer. + +"Gesu!" gasped the fool, in very real affright. "I'll not go near him +till his anger cools--not if you made me straight and bribed me with the +Patrimony of St. Peter." + +The man turned from him impatiently, and rising his voice: + +"Fanfulla!" he called over his shoulder, and then, after a moment's +pause, again: "Ola, Fanfulla!" + +"I am here, my lord," came an answering voice from behind a clump of +bushes on their right, and almost immediately the very splendid youth +who had gone to sleep in its shadow stood up and came round to them. +At sight of the fool he paused to take stock of him, what time the fool +returned the compliment with wonder-stricken interest. For however much +Fanfulla's raiment might have suffered in yesternight's affray, it was +very gorgeous still, and in the velvet cap upon his head a string of +jewels was entwined. Yet not so much by the richness of his trappings +was the fool impressed, as by the fact that one so manifestly noble +should address by such a title, and in a tone of so much deference, this +indifferently apparelled fellow over whom he had stumbled. Then his gaze +wandered back to the man who lay supported on his elbow, and he noticed +now the gold net in which his hair was coiffed, and which was by no +means common to mean folk. His little twinkling eyes turned their +attention full upon the face before him, and of a sudden a gleam of +recognition entered them. His countenance underwent a change, and from +grotesque that it had been, it became more grotesque still in its hasty +assumption of reverence. + +"My Lord of Aquila!" he murmured, scrambling to his feet. + +Scarcely had he got erect when a hand gripped him by the shoulder, and +Fanfulla's dagger flashed before his startled eyes. + +"Swear on the cross of this, never to divulge his Excellency's presence +here, or take you the point of it in your foolish heart." + +"I swear, I swear!" he cried, in fearful haste, his hand upon the hilt, +which Fanfulla now held towards him. + +"Now fetch the priest, good fool," said the Count, with a smile at the +hunchback's sudden terror. "You have nothing to fear from us." + +When the jester had left them to go upon his errand, Francesco turned to +his companion. + +"Fanfulla, you are over-cautious," he said, with an easy smile. "What +shall it matter that I am recognised?" + +"I would not have it happen for a kingdom while you are so near Sant' +Angelo. The six of us who met last night are doomed--those of us who are +not dead already. For me, and for Lodi if he was not taken, there may be +safety in flight. Into the territory of Babbiano I shall never again set +foot whilst Gian Maria is Duke, unless I be weary of this world. But of +the seventh--yourself--you heard old Lodi swear that the secret could +not have transpired. Yet should his Highness come to hear of your +presence in these parts and in my company, suspicion might set him on +the road that leads to knowledge." + +"Ah! And then?" + +"Then?" returned the other, eyeing Francesco in surprise. "Why, then, +the hopes we found on you--the hopes of every man in Babbiano worthy of +the name--would be frustrated. But here comes our friend the fool, and, +in his wake, the friar." + +Fra Domenico--so was he very fitly named, this follower of St. +Dominic--approached with a solemnity that proceeded rather from his +great girth than from any inflated sense of the dignity of his calling. +He bowed before Fanfulla until his great crimson face was hidden, and he +displayed instead a yellow, shaven crown. It was as if the sun had set, +and the moon had risen in its place. + +"Are you skilled in medicine?" quoth Fanfulla shortly. + +"I have some knowledge, Illustrious." + +"Then see to this gentleman's wounds." + +"Eh? Dio mio! You are wounded, then?" he began, turning to the Count, +and he would have added other questions as pregnant, but that Aquila, +drawing aside his hacketon at the shoulder, answered him quickly: + +"Here, sir priest." + +His lips pursed in solicitude, the friar would have gone upon his +knees, but that Francesco, seeing with what labour the movement must be +fraught, rose up at once. + +"It is not so bad that I cannot stand," said he, submitting himself to +the monk's examination. + +The latter expressed the opinion that it was nowise dangerous, however +much it might be irksome, whereupon the Count invited him to bind it up. +To this Fra Domenico replied that he had neither unguents nor linen, but +Fanfulla suggested that he might get these things from the convent of +Acquasparta, hard by, and proffered to accompany him thither. + +This being determined, they departed, leaving the Count in the company +of the jester. Francesco spread his cloak, and lay down again, whilst +the fool, craving his permission to remain, disposed himself upon his +haunches like a Turk. + +"Who is your master, fool?" quoth the Count, in an idle spirit. + +"There is a man who clothes and feeds me, noble sir, but Folly is my +only master." + +"To what end does he do this?" + +"Because I pretend to be a greater fool than he, so that by contrast +with me he seems unto himself wise, which flatters his conceit. Again, +perhaps, because I am so much uglier than he that, again by contrast, he +may account himself a prodigy of beauty." + +"Odd, is it not?" the Count humoured him. + +"Not half so odd as that the Lord of Aquila should lie here, roughly +clad, a wound in his shoulder, talking to a fool." + +Francesco eyed him with a smile. + +"Give thanks to God that Fanfulla is not here to hear you, or they had +been your last words for pretty though he be, Messer Fanfulla is a very +monster of bloodthirstiness. With me it is different. I am a man of very +gentle ways, as you may have heard, Messer Buffoon. But see that you +forget at once my station and my name, or you may realise how little +they need buffoons in the Court of Heaven." + +"My lord, forgive. I shall obey you," answered the hunchback, with a +stricken manner. And then through the glade came a voice--a woman's +voice, wondrous sweet and rich--calling: "Peppino! Peppino!" + +"It is my mistress calling me," quoth the fool, leaping to his feet. + +"So that you own a mistress, though Folly be your only master," laughed +the Count. "It would pleasure me to behold the lady whose property you +have the honour to be, Ser Peppino." + +"You may behold her if you but turn your head," Peppino whispered. + +Idly, with a smile upon his lips that was almost scornful, the Lord of +Aquila turned his eyes in the direction in which the fool was already +walking. And on the instant his whole expression changed. The amused +scorn was swept from his countenance, and in its place there sat now a +look of wonder that was almost awe. + +Standing there, on the edge of the clearing, in which he lay, he beheld +a woman. He had a vague impression of a slender, shapely height, a +fleeting vision of a robe of white damask, a camorra of green velvet, +and a choicely wrought girdle of gold. But it was the glory of her +peerless face that caught and held his glance in such ecstatic awe; the +miracle of her eyes, which, riveted on his, returned his glance with +one of mild surprise. A child she almost seemed, despite her height and +womanly proportions, so fresh and youthful was her countenance. + +Raised on his elbow, he lay there for a spell, and gazed and gazed, +his mind running on visions which godly men have had of saints from +Paradise. + +At last the spell was broken by Peppino's voice, addressing her, his +back servilely bent. Francesco bethought him of the deference due to one +so clearly noble, and leaping to his feet, his wound forgotten, he bowed +profoundly. A second later he gasped for breath, reeled, and swooning, +collapsed supine among the bracken. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. MONNA VALENTINA + + +In after years the Lord of Aquila was wont to aver in all solemnity that +it was the sight of her wondrous beauty set up such a disorder in his +soul that it overcame his senses, and laid him swooning at her feet. +That he, himself, believed it so, it is not ours to doubt, for all that +we may be more prone to agree with the opinion afterwards expressed +by Fanfulla and the friar--and deeply resented by the Count--that in +leaping to his feet in over-violent haste his wound re-opened, and the +pain of this, combining with the weak condition that resulted from his +loss of blood, had caused his sudden faintness. + +"Who is this, Peppe?" she asked the fool, and he, mindful of the oath +he had sworn, answered her brazenly that he did not know, adding that it +was--as she might see---some poor wounded fellow. + +"Wounded?" she echoed, and her glorious eyes grew very pitiful. "And +alone?" + +"There was a gentleman here, tending him, Madonna; but he is gone with +Fra Domenico to the Convent of Acquasparta to seek the necessaries to +mend his shoulder." + +"Poor gentleman," she murmured, approaching the fallen figure. "How came +he by his hurt?" + +"That, Madonna, is more than I can tell." + +"Can we do nothing for him until his friends return?" was her next +question, bending over the Count as she spoke. "Come, Peppino," she +cried, "lend me your aid. Get me water from the brook, yonder." + +The fool looked about him for a vessel, and his eye falling upon the +Count's capacious hat, he snatched it up, and went his errand. When he +returned, the lady was kneeling with the unconscious man's head in +her lap. Into the hatful of water that Peppe brought her she dipped a +kerchief, and with this she bathed the brow on which his long black hair +lay matted and disordered. + +"See how he has bled, Peppe," said she. "His doublet is drenched, and +he is bleeding still! Vergine Santa!" she cried, beholding now the +ugly wound that gaped in his shoulder, and turning pale at the sight. +"Assuredly he will die of it--and he so young, Peppino, and so comely to +behold!" + +Francesco stirred, and a sigh fluttered through his pallid lips. Then +he raised his heavy lids, and their glances met and held each other. And +so, eyes that were brown and tender looked down into feverish languid +eyes of black, what time her gentle hand held the moist cloth to his +aching brow. + +"Angel of beauty!" he murmured dreamily, being but half-awake as yet to +his position. Then, becoming conscious of her ministrations, "Angel of +goodness!" he added, with yet deeper fervour. + +She had no answer for him, saving such answer--and in itself it was +eloquent enough--as her blushes made, for she was fresh from a convent +and all innocent of worldly ways and tricks of gallant speech. + +"Do you suffer?" she asked at last. + +"Suffer?" quoth he, now waking more and more, and his voice sounding +a note of scorn. "Suffer? My head so pillowed and a saint from Heaven +ministering to my ills? Nay, I am in no pain, Madonna, but in a joy more +sweet than I have ever known." + +"Gesu! What a nimble tongue!" gibed the fool from the background. + +"Are you there, too, Master Buffoon?" quoth Francesco. "And Fanfulla? +Is he not here? Why, now I bethink me; he went to Acquasparta with the +friar." He thrust his elbow under him for more support. + +"You must not move," said she, thinking that he would essay to rise. + +"I would not, lady, if I must," he answered solemnly. And then, with his +eyes upon her face, he boldly asked her name. + +"My name," she answered readily, "is Valentina della Rovere, and I am +niece to Guidobaldo of Urbino." + +His brows shot up. + +"Do I indeed live," he questioned, "or do I but dream the memories of +some old romancer's tale, in which a wandering knight is tended thus by +a princess?" + +"Are you a knight?" she asked, a wonder coming now into her eyes, for +even into the seclusion of her convent-life had crept strange stories of +these mighty men-at-arms. + +"Your knight at least, sweet lady," answered he, "and ever your poor +champion if you will do me so much honour." + +A crimson flush stole now into her cheeks, summoned by his bold words +and bolder glances, and her eyes fell. Yet, resentment had no part in +her confusion. She found no presumption in his speech, nor aught that +a brave knight might not say to the lady who had succoured him in his +distress. Peppe, who stood listening and marking the Count's manner, +knowing the knight's station, was filled now with wonder, now with +mockery; yet never interfered. + +"What is your name, sir knight?" she asked, after a pause. + +His eyes looked troubled, and as they shot beyond her to the fool, they +caught on Peppe's face a grin of sly amusement. + +"My name," he said at last, "is Francesco." And then, to prevent that +she should further question him--"But tell me, Madonna," he inquired, +"how comes a lady of your station here, alone with that poor fraction of +a man?" And he indicated the grinning Peppe. + +"My people are yonder in the woods, where we have halted for a little +space. I am on my way to my uncle's court, from the Convent of Santa +Sofia, and for my escort I have Messer Romeo Gonzaga and twenty spears. +So that, you see, I am well protected, without counting Ser Peppe here +and the saintly Fra Domenico, my confessor." + +There was a pause, ended at length by Francesco. + +"You will be the younger niece of his Highness of Urbino?" said he. + +"Not so, Messer Francesco," she answered readily. "I am the elder." + +At that his brows grew of a sudden dark. + +"Can you be she whom they would wed to Gian Maria?" he exclaimed, at +which the fool pricked up his ears, whilst she looked at the Count with +a gaze that plainly showed how far she was from understanding him. + +"You said?" she asked. + +"Why, nothing," he answered, with a sigh, and in that moment a man's +voice came ringing through the wood. + +"Madonna! Madonna Valentina!" + +Francesco and the lady turned their eyes in the direction whence the +voice proceeded, and they beheld a superbly dazzling figure entering the +glade. In beauty of person and richness of apparel he was well worthy of +the company of Valentina. His doublet was of grey velvet, set off with +scales of beaten gold, and revealing a gold-embroidered vest beneath; +his bonnet matched his doublet, and was decked by a feather that +sparkled with costly gems; his gold-hilted sword was sheathed in a +scabbard also of grey velvet set with jewels. His face was comely as a +damsel's, his eyes blue and his hair golden. + +"Behold," announced Peppino gravely, "Italy's latest translation of the +Golden Ass of Apuleius." + +Upon seeing the noble niece of Guidobaldo kneeling there with +Francesco's head still pillowed in her lap, the new-comer cast up his +arms in a gesture of dismay. + +"Saints in Heaven!" he exclaimed, hurrying towards them. "What +occupation have you found? Who is this ugly fellow?" + +"Ugly?" was all she answered him, in accents of profound surprise. + +"Who is he?" the young man insisted, his tone growing heated. "And what +does he here and thus, with you? Gesu! What would his Highness say? +How would he deal with me were he to learn of this? Who is the man, +Madonna?" + +"Why, as you see, Messer Gonzaga," she answered, with some heat, "a +wounded knight." + +"A knight he?" gibed Gonzaga. "A thief more likely, a prowling +masnadiero. What is your name?" he roughly asked the Count. + +Drawing himself a little away from Valentina, and reclining entirely +upon his elbow, Francesco motioned him with a wave of the hand to come +no nearer. + +"I beg, lady, that you will bid your pretty page stand back a little. I +am still faint, and his perfumes overpower me." + +Under the mask of the polite request Gonzaga detected the mocking, +contemptuous note, and it gave fuel to his anger. + +"I am no page, fool," he answered, then clapping his hands together, he +raised his voice to shout--"Ola, Beltrame! To me!" + +"What would you do?" cried the lady, rising to confront him. + +"Carry this ruffian in bonds to Urbino, as is my duty." + +"Sir, you may wound your pretty hands in grasping me," replied the +Count, in chill indifference. + +"Ah! You would threaten me with violence, vassal?" cried the other, +retreating some paces farther as he spoke. "Beltrame!" he called again. +"Are you never coming?" A voice answered him from the thicket, and with +a clank of steel a half-dozen men flung themselves into the glade. + +"Your orders, sir?" craved he that led them, his eyes wandering to the +still prostrate Count. + +"Tie me up this dog," Gonzaga bade him. But before the fellow could move +a foot to carry out the order Valentina barred his way. + +"You shall not," she commanded, and so transformed was she from the +ingenuous child that lately had talked with him, that Francesco gaped in +pure astonishment. "In my uncle's name, I bid you leave this gentleman +where he lies. He is a wounded knight whom I have been pleased to +tend--a matter which seems to have aroused Messer Gonzaga's anger +against him." + +Beltrame paused, and looked from Valentina to Gonzaga, undecided. + +"Madonna," said Gonzaga, with assumed humility, "your word is law with +us. But I would have you consider that, what I bid Beltrame do is in +the interest of his Highness, whose territory is infested by these +vagabonding robbers. It is a fact that may not have reached you in +your convent retreat, no more than has sufficient knowledge reached you +yet--in your incomparable innocence--to distinguish between rogues and +honest men. Beltrame, do my bidding." + +Valentina's foot tapped the ground impatiently, and into her eyes there +came a look of anger that heightened her likeness to her martial uncle. +But Peppe it was who spoke. + +"For all that there seem to be fools enough, already, meddling in this +business," he said, in tones of mock lament, "permit that I join their +number, Ser Romeo, and listen to my counsel." + +"Out, fool," cried Gonzaga, cutting at him with his riding-switch, "we +need not your capers." + +"No, but you need my wisdom," retorted Ser Peppe, as he leapt beyond +Gonzaga's reach. "Hear me, Beltrame! For all that we do not doubt Messer +Gonzaga's keen discrimination in judging 'twixt a rogue and an honest +man, I do promise you, as surely as though I were Fate herself, that if +you obey him now and tie up that gentleman, you will yourself be tied up +for it, later on, in a yet uglier fashion." + +Beltrame looked alarmed, Gonzaga incredulous. Valentina thanked Peppe +with her eyes, thinking that he had but hit upon a subterfuge to serve +her wishes, whilst Francesco, who had now risen to his feet, looked +on with an amused smile as though the matter concerned him nowise +personally. And then, in the very crux of the situation, Fanfulla and +Fra Domenico appeared upon the scene. + +"You are, well-returned, Fanfulla!" the Count called to him, "This +pretty gentleman would have had me bound." + +"Have you bound?" echoed Fanfulla, in angry horror. "Upon what grounds, +pray?" he demanded, turning fiercely upon Gonzaga. + +Impressed by Fanfulla's lordly air, Romeo Gonzaga grew amazingly humble +for one that but a moment back had been so overbearing. + +"It would seem, sir, that my judgment was at fault in esteeming his +condition," he excused himself. + +"Your judgment?" returned the hot Fanfulla. "And who bade you judge? Go +cut your milk-teeth, boy, and meddle not with men if you would live to +be a man yourself some day." + +Valentina smiled, Peppe laughed outright, whilst even Beltrame and his +followers grinned, all of which added not a little to Gonzaga's choler. +But scant though his wisdom might be, it was yet enough to dictate +prudence. + +"The presence of Madonna here restrains me," he answered, with elaborate +dignity. "But should we meet again, I shall make bold to show you what +manhood means." + +"Perhaps--if by then you shall have come to it." And with a shrug +Fanfulla turned to give his attention to the Count, whom Fra Domenico +was already tending. + +Valentina, to relieve the awkwardness of the moment, proposed to +Gonzaga that he should get his escort to horse, and have her litter +in readiness, so that they might resume their journey as soon as Fra +Domenico should have concluded his ministrations. + +Gonzaga bowed, and with a vicious glance at the strangers and an +angry "Follow me!" to Beltrame and the others, he departed with the +men-at-arms at his heels. + +Valentina remained with Fanfulla and Peppe, whilst Fra Domenico dressed +Francesco's wound, and, presently, when the task was accomplished, they +departed, leaving Fanfulla amid the Count alone. But ere she went she +listened to Francesco's thanks, and suffered him to touch her ivory +fingers with his lips. + +There was much he might have said but that the presence of the other +three restrained him. Yet some little of that much she may have seen +reflected in his eyes, for all that day she rode pensive, a fond, +wistful smile at the corners of her lips. And although to Gonzaga she +manifested no resentment, yet did she twit him touching that mistake +of his. Sore in his dignity, he liked her playful mockery little yet he +liked the words in which she framed it less. + +"How came you into so grievous an error, Ser Romeo?" she asked him, more +than once. "How could you deem him a rogue--he with so noble a mien and +so beautiful a countenance?" And without heeding the sullenness of his +answers, she would lapse with a sigh once more into reflection--a thing +that galled Gonzaga more, perhaps, than did her gibes. + + + + +CHAPTER V. GIAN MARIA + + +It was a week after the meeting 'twixt the niece of Guidobaldo and the +Count of Aquila, when the latter--his wound being wellnigh healed--rode +one morning under the great archway that was the main entrance to the +city of Babbiano. The Captain of the Gate saluted him respectfully as +he rode by, and permitted himself to marvel at the pallor of his +Excellency's face. And yet, the cause was not very far to seek. It stood +upon four spears, among a noisy flock of circling crows, above that very +Gate---called of San Bacolo--and consisted of four detruncated human +heads. + +The sight of those dead faces grinning horribly, their long, matted +hair fluttering like rags in the April breeze, had arrested Francesco's +attention as he drew nigh. But when presently he came nearer and looked +with more intentness, a shudder of recognition ran through him, and a +great horror filled his soul and paled his cheek. The first of those +heads was that of the valiant and well-named Ferrabraccio; the next that +of Amerino Amerini; and the other two, those of his captured companions +on that night at Sant' Angelo. + +So it would seem that Gian Maria had been busy during the week that was +sped, and that there, on the walls of Babbiano, lay rotting the only +fruits which that ill-starred conspiracy was likely to bear. + +For a second it entered his mind to turn back. But his stout and +fearless nature drove him on, all unattended as he was, and in despite +of such vague forebodings as beset him. How much, he wondered, might +Gian Maria know of his own share in that mountain meeting, and how would +it fare with him if his cousin was aware that it had been proposed to +the Count of Aquila to supplant him? + +He was not long, however, in learning that grounds were wanting for such +fears as he had entertained. Gian Maria received him with even more than +wonted welcome, for he laid much store by Francesco's judgment and was +in sore need of it at present. + +Francesco found him at table, which had been laid for him amidst the +treasures of art and learning that enriched the splendid Palace library. +It was a place beloved by Gian Maria for the material comforts that it +offered him, and so he turned it to a score of vulgar purposes of +his own, yet never to that for which it was equipped, being an utter +stranger to letters and ignorant as a ploughboy. + +Ensconced in a great chair of crimson leather, at a board overladen with +choice viands and sparkling with crystal flagons and with vessels and +dishes of gold and enamel, Francesco found his cousin, and the air that +had been heavy once with the scholarly smell of parchments and musty +tomes was saturated now with pungent odours of the table. + +In stature Gian Maria was short and inclining, young though he was, to +corpulency. His face was round and pale and flabby; his eyes blue and +beady; his mouth sensual and cruel. He was dressed in a suit of lilac +velvet, trimmed with lynx fur, and slashed, Spanish fashion, in the +sleeves, to show the shirt of fine Rheims linen underneath. About his +neck hung a gold chain, bearing an Agnus Dei, which contained a relic of +the True Cross--for Gian Maria pushed his devoutness to great lengths. + +His welcome of Francesco was more effusive than its wont. He bade the +two servants who attended him to lay a plate for his illustrious cousin, +and when Aquila shortly yet courteously declined, with the assurance +that he had dined already, the Duke insisted that, at least, he should +drink a Cup of Malvasia. When out of a vessel of beaten gold they had +filled a goblet for the Count, his Highness bade the servants go, and +relaxed--if, indeed, so much may be said of one who never knew much +dignity--before his visitor. + +"I hear," said Aquila, when the first compliments were spent, "strange +stories of a conspiracy in your Duchy, and on the walls at the Gate of +San Bacolo I beheld four heads, of men whom I have known and honoured." + +"And who dishonoured themselves ere their heads were made a banquet for +the crows. There, Francesco!" He shuddered, and crossed himself. "It is +unlucky to speak of the dead at table." + +"Let us speak, then, of their offence alone," persisted Francesco +subtly. "In what did it lie? + +"In what?" returned the Duke amusedly. His voice was thin and inclining +to shrillness. "It is more than I can say. Masuccio knew. But the dog +would not disclose his secret nor the names of the conspirators until +his task should be accomplished and he had taken them at the treason +he knew they had gathered to ripen. But," he continued, an olive poised +'twixt thumb and forefinger, "it seems they were not to be captured as +easily as he thought. He told me the traitors numbered six, and that +they were to meet a seventh there. The men who returned from the venture +tell me too, and without shame, that there were but some six or seven +that beset them. Yet they gave the Swiss trouble enough, and killed some +nine of them besides a half-score of more or less grievously wounded, +whilst they but slew two of their assailants and captured another two. +Those were the four heads you saw at the Porta San Bacolo." + +"And Masuccio?" inquired Francesco. "Has he not told you since who were +those others that escaped?" + +His Highness paused to masticate the olive. + +"Why, there lies the difficulty," said he at length. "The dog is dead. +He was killed in the affray. May he rot in hell for his obstinate +reticence. No, no!" he checked himself hastily. "He's dead, and the +secret of this treason, as well as the names of the traitors, have +perished with him. Yet I am a clement man, Francesco, and sorely though +that dog has wronged me by his silence, I thank Heaven for the grace to +say--God rest his vile soul!" + +The Count flung himself into a chair, as much to dissemble such signs of +relief as might show upon his face, as because he wished to sit. + +"But surely Masuccio left you some information!" he exclaimed. + +"The very scantiest," returned Gian Maria, in chagrined accents. "It was +ever the way of that secretive vassal. Damn him! He frankly told me that +if I knew, I would talk. Heard you ever of such insufferable insolence +to a prince? All that he would let me learn was that there was a +conspiracy afoot to supplant me, and that he was going to capture the +conspirators, together with the man whom they were inviting to take +my place. Ponder it, Francesco! Such are the murderous plans my loving +subjects form for my undoing--I who rule them with a rod of gold, the +most clement, just and generous prince in Italy. Cristo buono! Do +you marvel that I lost patience and had their hideous heads set upon +spears?" + +"But did you not say that two of these conspirators were brought back +captive?" + +The Duke nodded, his mouth too full for words. + +"Then, at their trial, what transpired?" + +"Trial? There was no trial." Gian Maria chewed vigorously for a moment. +"I tell you I was so heated with anger at this base ingratitude, that I +had not even the wit to have the names of their associates tortured out +of them. Within a half-hour of their arrival in Babbiano, the heads of +these men whom it had pleased Heaven to deliver up to me were where you +saw them to-day." + +"You sent them thus to their death?" gasped Francesco, rising to his +feet and eyeing his cousin with mingled wonder and anger. "You sent men +of such families as these to the headsman, without a trial? I think, +Gian Maria, that you must be mad if so rashly you can shed such blood as +this." + +The Duke sank back in his chair to gape at his impetuous cousin. Then, +in sullen anger: "To whom do you speak?" he demanded. + +"To a tyrant who calls himself the most clement, just and generous +prince in Italy, and who lacks the wisdom to see that he is undermining +with his own hands, and by his own rash actions, a throne that is +already tottering. Can you not think that this might mean a revolution? +It amounts to murder, and though dukes resort to it freely enough in +Italy, it is not openly and defiantly wrought, as is this." + +Anger there was in the Duke's soul, but there was still more fear--so +much, that it shouldered the anger aside. + +"I have provided against rebellion," he announced, with an ease that he +vainly strove to feel. "I have given the command of my guards to Martino +Armstadt, and he has engaged for me a company of five hundred Swiss +lanzknechte that were lately in the pay of the Baglioni of Perugia." + +"And you deem this security?" rejoined Francesco, with a smile of scorn. +"To hedge your throne with foreign spears commanded by a foreigner?" + +"This and God's grace," was the pious answer. + +"Bah!" answered Francesco, impatient at the hypocrisy. "Win the hearts +of your people. Let that be your buckler." + +"Hush!" whispered Gian Maria. "You blaspheme. Does not every act of my +self-sacrificing life point to such an aim? I live for my people. But, +by my soul, they ask too much when they ask that I should die for them. +If I serve those who plot against my life, as I have served these men +you speak of, who shall blame me? I tell you, Francesco, I wish I might +have those others who escaped, that I might do as much by them. By the +living God, I do! And as for the man who was to have supplanted me----" +He paused, a deadly smile on his sensual mouth completing the sentence +more effectively than lay within the power of words. "Who could it +have been?" he mused. "I've vowed that if Heaven will grant me that I +discover him, I'll burn a candle to Santa Fosca every Saturday for a +twelvemonth and go fasting on the Vigil of the Dead. Who--who could it +have been, Franceschino?" + +"How should I know?" returned Francesco, evading the question. + +"You know so much, Checco mio. Your mind is so quick to fathom matters +of this kind. Think you, now, it might have been the Duca Valentino?" + +Francesco shook his head. + +"When Caesar Borgia comes he will know no need to resort to such poor +means. He will come in arms to reduce you by his might." + +"God and the saints protect me!" gasped the Duke. "You talk of it as if +he were already marching." + +"Then I talk of it advisedly. The event is none so remote as you would +make yourself believe. Listen, Gian Maria! I have not ridden from Aquila +for just the pleasure of passing the time of day with you. Fabrizio da +Lodi and Fanfulla degli Arcipreti have been with me of late." + +"With you?" cried the Duke, his little eyes narrowing themselves as they +glanced up at his cousin. "With you---eh?" He shrugged his shoulders and +spread his palms before him. "Pish! See into what errors even so clear +a mind as mine may fall. Do you know, Francesco, that marking their +absence since that conspiracy was laid, I had a half-suspicion they were +connected with it." And he devoted his attention to a honeycomb. + +"You have not in all your Duchy two hearts more faithful to Babbiano," +was the equivocal reply. "It was on the matter of this very peril that +threatens you that they came to me." + +"Ah!" Gian Maria's white face grew interested. + +And now the Count of Aquila talked to the Duke of Babbiano much as +Fabrizio da Lodi had talked to the Count that night at Sant' Angelo. He +spoke of the danger that threatened from the Borgia, of the utter lack +of preparation, and of Gian Maria's contempt of the counsels given him. +He alluded to the discontent rife among his subjects at this state of +things, and to the urgent need to set them right. When he had done, the +Duke sat silent a while, his eyes bent thoughtfully upon his platter, on +which the food lay now unheeded. + +"An easy thing, is it not, Francesco, to say to a man: this is wrong, +and that is wrong. But who is there, pray, to set it right for me?" + +"That, if you will say but the word, I will attempt to do." + +"You?" cried the Duke, and far from manifesting satisfaction at having +one offer himself to undertake to right this very crooked business, Gian +Maria's face reflected an incredulous anger and some little scorn. "And +how, my marvellous cousin, would you set about it?" he inquired, a sneer +lurking in his tone. + +"I would place such matters as the levying of money by taxation in +the hands of Messer Despuglio, and at whatever sacrifice to your own +extravagance, I would see that for months to come the bulk of these +moneys is applied to the levying and arming of suitable men. I have some +skill as a condottiero--leastways, so more than one foreign prince has +been forced to acknowledge. I will lead your army when I have raised it, +and I will enter into alliances for you with our neighbouring States, +who, seeing us armed, will deem us a power worthy of their alliance. And +so, what man can do to stem the impending flood of this invasion, that +will I do to defend your Duchy. Make me your gonfalonier, and in a month +I will tell you whether it lies in my power or not to save your State." + +The eyes of Gian Maria had narrowed more and more whilst Francesco +spoke, and into his shallow face had crept an evil, suspicious look. As +the Count ceased, he gave vent to a subdued laugh, bitter with mockery. + +"Make you my gonfalonier?" he muttered, in consummate amusement. "And +since when has Babbiano been a republic--or is it your aim to make it +one, and establish yourself as its chief magistrate?" + +"If you misapprehend me so----" began Francesco, but his cousin +interrupted him with heightening scorn. + +"Misapprehend you, Messer Franceschino? No, no. I understand you but +too well." He rose suddenly from his interrupted meal, and came a step +nearer his cousin. "I hear rumours of this growing love my people are +manifesting for the Count of Aquila, and I have let them go unheeded. +That rogue Masuccio warned me ere he died, and I answered him with +my whip across his face. But I am by no means sure that I have been +proceeding wisely. I had a dream two nights ago---- But let that be! +When it so happens that in any State there is a man whom the people +prefer to him who rules them, and when it so happens that this man is of +as good blood and high birth as are you, he becomes a danger to him +that sits the throne. I need scarce remind you," he added, with a horrid +grin, "of how the Borgias deal with such individuals, nor need I add +that a Sforza may see fit to emulate those very conclusive measures of +precaution. The family of Sforza has bred as yet no fools, nor shall I +prove myself the first by placing in another's hands the power to make +himself my master. You see, my gentle cousin, how transparent your +aims become under my eyes. I am keen of vision, Franceschino, keen of +vision!" He tapped his nose and chuckled a malicious appreciation of his +own acute perceptions. + +Francesco regarded him with an eye of stony scorn. He might have +answered, had he been so disposed, that the Duchy of Babbiano was his to +take whenever he pleased. He might have told him that, and defied him. +But he went more slowly than did this man of a family that bred no +fools. + +"Do you know me, then, so little, Gian Maria," said he, not without +bitterness, "that you think I hunger for so empty a thing as this ducal +pomp you clutch so fearfully? I tell you, man, that I prefer my liberty +to an imperial throne. But I waste breath with you. Yet, some day, when +your crown shall have passed from you and your power have been engulfed +in the Borgia's rapacious maw, remember my offer which might have saved +you and which with insults you disregarded, as you disregarded the +advice your older counsellors gave you." + +Gian Maria shrugged his fat shoulders. + +"If by that other advice you mean the counsel that I should take +Guidobaldo's niece to wife, you may give ease unto your patriotic soul. +I have consented to enter into this alliance. And now," he ended, with +another of his infernal chuckles, "you see how little I need dread this +terrible son of Pope Alexander. Allied with Urbino and the other States +that are its friends, I can defy the might of Caesar Borgia. I shall +sleep tranquil of nights beside my beauteous bride, secure in the +protection her uncle's armies will afford me, and never needing so much +as my valiant cousin's aid as my gonfalonier." + +The Count of Aquila changed colour despite himself, and the Duke's +suspicious eyes were as quick to observe it as was his mind to +misinterpret its meaning. He registered a vow to set a watch on this +solicitous cousin who offered so readily to bear his gonfalon. + +"I felicitate you, at least," said Francesco gravely, "upon the wisdom +of that step. Had I known of it I had not troubled you with other +proposals for the safety of your State. But, may I ask you, Gian +Maria, what influences led you to a course which, hitherto, you have so +obstinately refused to follow?" + +The Duke shrugged his shoulders. + +"They plagued me so," he lamented, with a grimace, "that in the end I +consented. I could withstand Lodi and the others, but when my mother +joined them with her prayers--I should say, her commands--and pointed +out again my peril to me, I gave way. After all a man must wed. And +since in my station he need not let his marriage weigh too much upon +him, I resolved on it for the sake of security and peace." + +Since it was the salvation of Babbiano that he aimed at, the Count of +Aquila should have rejoiced at Gian Maria's wise resolve, and no other +consideration should have tempered so encompassing a thing as that joy +of his should have been. Yet, when later he left his cousin's presence, +the only feeling that he carried with him was a deep and bitter +resentment against the Fate that willed such things, blent with a +sorrowing pity for the girl that was to wed his cousin and a growing +hatred for the cousin who made him pity her. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. THE AMOROUS DUKE + + +From a window of the Palace of Babbiano the Lord of Aquila watched the +amazing bustle in the courtyard below, and at his side stood Fanfulla +degli Arcipreti, whom he had summoned from Perugia with assurances that, +Masuccio being dead, no peril now menaced him. + +It was a week after that interview at which Gian Maria had made known +his intentions to his cousin, and his Highness was now upon the point +of setting out for Urbino, to perform the comedy of wooing the Lady +Valentina. This was the explanation of that scurrying of servitors and +pages, that parading of men-at-arms, and that stamping of horses and +mules in the quadrangle below. Francesco watched the scene with a smile +of some bitterness, his companion with one of supreme satisfaction. + +"Praised be Heaven for having brought his Highness at last to a sense of +his duty," remarked the courtier. + +"It has often happened to me," said Francesco, disregarding his +companion's words, "to malign the Fates for having brought me into the +world a count. But in the future I shall give them thanks, for I see how +much worse it might have been--I might have been born a prince, with +a duchy to rule over. I might have been as that poor man, my cousin, a +creature whose life is all pomp and no real dignity, all merry-making +and no real mirth--loveless, isolated and vain." + +"But," cried the amazed Fanfulla, "assuredly there are compensations?" + +"You see that bustle. You know what it portends. What compensation can +there be for that?" + +"It is a question you should be the last to ask, my lord. You have seen +the niece of Guidobaldo, and having seen her, can you still ask what +compensation does this marriage offer Gian Maria?" + +"Do you, then, not understand?" returned Aquila, with a wan smile. "Do +you not see the tragedy of it? Is it nothing that two States, having +found that this marriage would be mutually advantageous, have determined +that it shall take place? That meanwhile the chief actors--the +victims, I might almost call them--have no opportunity of selecting for +themselves. Gian Maria goes about it resignedly. He will tell you that +he has always known that some day he must wed and do his best to beget +a son. He held out long enough against this alliance, but now that +necessity is driving him at last, he goes about it much as he would go +about any other State affair--a coronation, a banquet, or a ball. Can +you wonder now that I would not accept the throne of Babbiano when +it was offered me? I tell you, Fanfulla, that were I at present in my +cousin's shoes, I would cast crown and purple at whomsoever had a fancy +for them ere they crushed the life out of me and left me a poor puppet. +Sooner than endure that hollow mockery of a life I would become a +peasant or a vassal; I would delve the earth and lead a humble life, but +lead it in my own way, and thank God for the freedom of it; choose my +own comrades; live as I list, where I list; love as I list, where I +list, and die when God pleases with the knowledge that my life had not +been altogether barren. And that poor girl, Fanfulla! Think of her. She +is to be joined in loveless union to such a gross, unfeeling clod as +Gian Maria. Have you no pity for her?" + +Fanfulla sighed, his brow clouded. + +"I am not so dull but that I can see why you should reason thus to-day," +said he. "These thoughts have come to you since you have seen her." + +Franceseo sighed deeply. + +"Who knows?" he made answer wistfully. "In the few moments that we +talked together, in the little time that I beheld her, it may be that +she dealt me a wound far deeper than the one to which she so mercifully +sought to minister." + +Now for all that in what the Lord of Aquila said touching the projected +union there was a deal of justice, yet when he asserted that the chief +actors were to have no opportunity of selecting for themselves, he said +too much. That opportunity they were to have. It occurred three days +later at Urbino, when the Duke and Valentina were brought together +at the banquet of welcome given by Guidobaldo to his intended +nephew-in-law. The sight of her resplendent beauty came as a joyful +shock to Gian Maria, and filled him with as much impatience to possess +her as did his own gross ugliness render him offensive in her eyes. +Averse had she been to this wedding from the moment that it had been +broached to her. The sight of Gian Maria completed her loathing of the +part assigned her, and in her heart she registered a vow that sooner +than become the Duchess of Babbiano, she would return to her Convent of +Santa Sofia and take the veil. + +Gian Maria sat beside her at the banquet, and in the intervals of +eating--which absorbed him mightily--he whispered compliments at which +she shuddered and turned pale. The more strenuously did he strive to +please, in his gross and clumsy fashion, the more did he succeed +in repelling and disgusting her, until, in the end, with all his +fatuousness, he came to deem her oddly cold. Of this, anon, he made +complaint to that magnificent prince, her uncle. But Guidobaldo scoffed +at his qualms. + +"Do you account my niece a peasant girl?" he asked. "Would you have her +smirk and squirm at every piece of flattery you utter? So that she weds +your Highness what shall the rest signify?" + +"I would she loved me a little," complained Gian Maria foolishly. + +Guidobaldo looked him over with an eye that smiled inscrutably, and it +may have crossed his mind that this coarse, white-faced Duke was too +ambitious. + +"I doubt not that she will," he answered, in tones as inscrutable as +his glance. "So that you woo with grace and ardour, what woman could +withstand your Highness? Be not put off by such modesty as becomes a +maid." + +Those words of Guidobaldo's breathed new courage into him. Nor ever +after could he think that her coldness was other than a cloak, a sort of +maidenly garment behind which modesty bade her conceal the inclinations +of her heart. Reasoning thus, and having in support of it his wondrous +fatuity, it so befell that the more she shunned and avoided him, the +more did he gather conviction of the intensity of her affection; the +more loathing she betrayed, the more proof did it afford him of the +consuming quality of her passion. In the end, he went even so far as to +applaud and esteem in her this very maidenly conduct. + +There were hunting-parties, hawking-parties, water-parties, banquets, +comedies, balls, and revels of every description, and for a week all +went well at Urbino. Then, as suddenly as if a cannon had been fired +upon the Palace, the festivities were interrupted. The news that an +envoy of Caesar Borgia's was at Babbiano with a message from his master +came like a cold douche upon Gian Maria. It was borne to him in a letter +from Fabrizio da Lodi, imploring his immediate return to treat with this +plenipotentiary of Valentino's. + +No longer did he disregard the peril that threatened him from the +all-conquering Borgia, no longer deem exaggerated by his advisers the +cause for fear. This sudden presence of Valentino's messenger, coming, +too, at a time when it would almost seem as if the impending union +with Urbino had spurred the Borgia to act before the alliance was +established, filled him with apprehension. + +In one of the princely chambers that had been set aside for his use +during his visit to Urbino he discussed the tragic news with the two +nobles who had accompanied him--Alvaro de Alvari and Gismondo Santi--and +both of them, whilst urging him to take the advice of Lodi and return at +once, urged him, too, to establish his betrothal ere he left. + +"Bring the matter to an issue at once, your Highness," said Santi, +"and thus you will go back to Babbiano well-armed to meet the Duca +Valentino's messenger." + +Readily accepting this advice, Gian Maria went in quest of Guidobaldo, +and laid before him his proposals, together with the news which +had arrived and which was the cause of the haste he now manifested. +Guidobaldo listened gravely. In its way the news affected him as well, +for he feared the might of Caesar Borgia as much as any man in Italy, +and he was, by virtue of it, the readier to hasten forward an alliance +which should bring another of the neighbouring states into the powerful +coalition he was forming. + +"It shall be as you wish," answered him the gracious Lord of Urbino, +"and the betrothal shall be proclaimed to-day, so that you can bear news +of it to Valentino's messenger. When you have heard this envoy, deliver +him an answer of such defiance or such caution as you please. Then +return in ten days' time to Urbino, and all shall be ready for the +nuptials. But, first of all, go you and tell Monna Valentina." + +Confident of success, Gian Maria obeyed his host, and went in quest of +the lady. He gained her ante-chamber, and thence he despatched an idling +page to request of her the honour of an audience. + +As the youth passed through the door that led to the room beyond, Gian +Maria caught for a moment the accents of an exquisite male voice singing +a love-song to the accompaniment of a lute. + + "Una donna piu bella assai che 'l sole..." + +came the words of Petrarch, and he heard them still, though muffled, for +a moment or two after the boy had gone. Then it ceased abruptly, and +a pause followed, at the end of which the page returned. Raising the +portiere of blue and gold, he invited Gian Maria to enter. + +It was a room that spoke with eloquence of the wealth and refinement +of Montefeltro, from the gilding and ultramarine of the vaulted ceiling +with its carved frieze of delicately inlaid woodwork, to the priceless +tapestries beneath it. Above a crimson prie-dieu hung a silver crucifix, +the exquisite workmanship of the famous Anichino of Ferrara. Yonder +stood an inlaid cabinet, surmounted by a crystal mirror and some wonders +of Murano glass. There was a picture by Mantegna, some costly cameos and +delicate enamels, an abundance of books, a dulcimer which a fair-haired +page was examining with inquisitive eyes, and by a window on the right +stood a very handsome harp that Guidobaldo had bought his niece in +Venice. + +In that choice apartment of hers the Duke found Valentina surrounded +by her ladies, Peppe the fool, a couple of pages, and a half-dozen +gentlemen of her uncle's court. One of these--that same Gonzaga who had +escorted her from the Convent of Santa Sofia--most splendidly arrayed in +white taby, his vest and doublet rich with gold, sat upon a low stool, +idly fingering the lute in his lap, from which Gian Maria inferred that +his had been the voice that had reached him in the ante-chamber. + +At the Duke's advent they all rose saving Valentina and received him +with a ceremony that somewhat chilled his ardour. He advanced; then +halted clumsily, and in a clumsy manner framed a request that he might +speak with her alone. In a tired, long-suffering way she dismissed that +court of hers, and Gian Maria stood waiting until the last of them had +passed out through the tall windows that abutted on to a delightful +terrace, where, in the midst of a green square, a marble fountain +flashed and glimmered in the sunlight. + +"Lady," he said, when they were at last alone, "I have news from +Babbiano that demands my instant return." And he approached her by +another step. + +In truth he was a dull-witted fellow or else too blinded by fatuity +to see and interpret aright the sudden sparkle in her eye, the sudden, +unmistakable expression of relief that spread itself upon her face. + +"My lord," she answered, in a low, collected voice, "we shall grieve at +your departure." + +Fool of a Duke that he was! Blind, crass and most fatuous of wooers! Had +he been bred in courts and his ears attuned to words that meant nothing, +that were but the empty echoes of what should have been meant; was he so +new to courtesies in which the heart had no share, that those words of +Valentina's must bring him down upon his knees beside her, to take +her dainty fingers in his fat hands, and to become transformed into a +boorish lover of the most outrageous type? + +"Shall you so?" he lisped, his glance growing mighty amorous. "Shall you +indeed grieve?" + +She rose abruptly to her feet. + +"I beg that your Highness will rise," she enjoined him coldly, a +coldness which changed swiftly to alarm as her endeavours to release her +hand proved vain. For despite her struggles he held on stoutly. This was +mere coyness, he assured himself, mere maidenly artifice which he must +bear with until he had overcome it for all time. + +"My lord, I implore you!" she continued. "Bethink you of where you +are--of who you are." + +"Here will I stay until the crack of doom," he answered, with an odd +mixture of humour, ardour and ferocity, "unless you consent to listen to +me." + +"I am ready to listen, my lord," she answered, without veiling a +repugnance that he lacked the wit to see. "But it is not necessary that +you should hold my hand, nor fitting that you should kneel." + +"Not fitting?" he exclaimed. "Lady, you do not apprehend me rightly. +Is it not fitting that all of us--be we princes or vassals--shall kneel +sometimes?" + +"At your prayers, my lord, yes, most fitting." + +"And is not a man at his prayers when he woos? What fitter shrine in all +the world than his mistress's feet?" + +"Release me," she commanded, still struggling. "Your Highness grows +tiresome and ridiculous." + +"Ridiculous?" + +His great, sensual mouth fell open. His white cheeks grew mottled, and +his little eyes looked up with a mighty evil gleam in their cruel blue. +A moment he stayed so, then he rose up. He released her hands as she had +bidden him, but he clutched her arms instead, which was yet worse. + +"Valentina," he said, in a voice that was far from steady, "why do you +use me thus unkindly?" + +"But I do not," she protested wearily, drawing back with a shudder from +the white face that was so near her own, inspiring her with a loathing +she could not repress. "I would not have your Highness look foolish, and +you cannot conceive how----" + +"Can you conceive how deeply, how passionately I love you?" he broke in, +his grasp tightening. + +"My lord, you are hurting me!" + +"And are you not hurting me?" he snarled. "What is a pinched arm when +compared with such wounds as your eyes are dealing me? Are you not----" + +She had twisted from his grasp, and in a bound she had reached the +window-door through which her attendants had passed. + +"Valentina!" he cried, as he sprang after her, and it was more like the +growl of a beast than the cry of a lover. He caught her, and with scant +ceremony he dragged her back into the room. + +At this, her latent loathing, contempt and indignation rose up in arms. +Never had she heard tell of a woman of her rank being used in this +fashion. She abhorred him, yet she had spared him the humiliation of +hearing it from her lips, intending to fight for her liberty with +her uncle. But now, since he handled her as though she had been a +serving-wench; since he appeared to know nothing of the deference due +to her, nothing of the delicacies of people well-born and well-bred, +she would endure his odious love-making no further. Since he elected +to pursue his wooing like a clown, the high-spirited daughter of Urbino +promised herself that in like fashion would she deal with him. + +Swinging herself free from his grasp a second time, she caught him a +stinging buffet on the ducal cheek which--so greatly did it take him by +surprise--all but sent him sprawling. + +"Madonna!" he panted. "This indignity to me!" + +"And what indignities have not I suffered at your hands?" she retorted, +with a fierceness of glance before which he recoiled. And as she now +towered before him, a beautiful embodiment of wrath, he knew not whether +he loved her more than he feared her, yet the desire to possess her and +to tame her was strong within him. + +"Am I a baggage of your camps," she questioned furiously, "to be so +handled by you? Do you forget that I am the niece of Guidobaldo, a lady +of the house of Rovere, and that from my cradle I have known naught but +the respect of all men, be they born never so high? That to such by my +birth I have the right? Must I tell you in plain words, sir, that though +born to a throne, your manners are those of a groom? And must I tell +you, ere you will realise it, that no man to whom with my own lips I +have not given the right, shall set hands upon me as you have done?" + +Her eyes flashed, her voice rose, and higher raged the storm; and Gian +Maria was so tossed and shattered by it that he could but humbly sue for +pardon. + +"What shall it signify that I am a Duke," he pleaded timidly, "since +I am become a lover? What is a Duke then? He is but a man, and as the +meanest of his subjects his love must take expression. For what does +love know of rank?" + +She was moving towards the window again, and for all that he dared not a +second time arrest her by force, he sought by words to do so. + +"Madonna," he exclaimed, "I implore you to hear me. In another hour I +shall be in the saddle, on my way to Babbiano." + +"That, sir," she answered him, "is the best news I have heard since your +coming." And without waiting for his reply, she stepped through the open +window on to the terrace. + +For a second he hesitated, a sense of angry humiliation oppressing his +wits. Then he started to follow her; but as he reached the window the +little crook-backed figure of Ser Peppe stood suddenly before him with a +tinkle of bells, and a mocking grin illumining his face. + +"Out of the way, fool," growled the angry Duke. But the odd figure in +its motley of red and black continued where it stood. + +"If it is Madonna Valentina you seek," said he, "behold her yonder." + +And Gian Maria, following the indication of Peppe's lean finger, saw +that she had rejoined her ladies and that thus his opportunity of +speaking with her was at an end. He turned his shoulder upon the jester, +and moved ponderously towards the door by which he had originally +entered the room. It had been well for Ser Peppe had he let him go. But +the fool, who loved his mistress dearly, and had many of the instincts +of the faithful dog, loving where she loved and hating where she hated, +could not repress the desire to send a gibe after the retreating figure, +and inflict another wound in that much wounded spirit. + +"You find it a hard road to Madonna's heart, Magnificent," he called +after him. "Where your wisdom is blind be aided by the keen eyes of +folly." + +The Duke stood still. A man more dignified would have left that +treacherous tongue unheeded. But Dignity and Gian Maria were strangers. +He turned, and eyed the figure that now followed him into the room. + +"You have knowledge to sell," he guessed contemptuously. + +"Knowledge I have--a vast store--but none for sale, Lord Duke. Such as +imports you I will bestow if you ask me, for no more than the joy of +beholding you smile." + +"Say on," the Duke bade him, without relaxing the grimness that +tightened his flabby face. + +Peppe bowed. + +"It were an easy thing, most High and Mighty, to win the love of Madonna +if----" He paused dramatically. + +"Yes, yes. E dunque! If----?" + +"If you had the noble countenance, the splendid height, the shapely +limbs, the courtly speech and princely manner of one I wot of." + +"Are you deriding me?" the Duke questioned, unbelieving. + +"Ah, no, Highness! I do but tell you how it were possible that my lady +might come to love you. Had you those glorious attributes of him I speak +of, and of whom she dreams, it might be easy. But since God fashioned +you such as you are--gross of countenance, fat and stunted of shape, +boorish of----" + +With a roar the infuriated Duke was upon him. But the fool, as nimble of +legs as he was of tongue, eluded the vicious grasp of those fat hands, +and leaping through the window, ran to the shelter of his mistress's +petticoats. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. GONZAGA THE INSIDIOUS + + +Well indeed had it been for Ser Peppe had he restrained his malicious +mood and curbed the mocking speech that had been as vinegar to +Gian Maria's wounds. For when Gian Maria was sore he was wont to be +vindictive, and on the present occasion he was something even more. + +There abode with him the memory of the fool's words, and the suggestion +that in the heart of Valentina was framed the image of some other man. +Now, loving her, in his own coarse way, and as he understood love, the +rejected Duke waxed furiously jealous of this other at whose existence +Peppe had hinted. This unknown stood in his path to Valentina, and to +clear that path it suggested itself to Gian Maria that the simplest +method was to remove the obstacle. But first he must discover it, and +to this he thought, with a grim smile, the fool might--willy-nilly--help +him. + +He returned to his own apartments, and whilst the preparations for +his departure were toward, he bade Alvaro summon Martin Armstadt--the +captain of his guard. To the latter his orders were short and secret. + +"Take four men," he bade him, "and remain in Urbino after I am gone. +Discover the haunts of Peppe the fool. Seize him, and bring him after +me. See that you do it diligently, and let no suspicion of your task +arise." + +The bravo--he was little better, for all that he commanded the guards of +the Duke of Babbiano--bowed, and answered in his foreign, guttural voice +that his Highness should be obeyed. + +Thereafter Gian Maria made shift to depart. He took his leave of +Guidobaldo, promising to return within a few days for the nuptials, and +leaving an impression upon the mind of his host that his interview with +Valentina had been very different from the actual. + +It was from Valentina herself that Guidobaldo was to learn, after Gian +Maria's departure, the true nature of that interview, and what had +passed between his niece and his guest. She sought him out in his +closet, whither he had repaired, driven thither by the demon of gout +that already inhabited his body, and was wont to urge him at times to +isolate himself from his court. She found him reclining upon a couch, +seeking distraction in a volume of the prose works of Piccinino. He was +a handsome man, of excellent shape, scarce thirty years of age. His face +was pale, and there were dark circles round his eyes, and lines of pain +about his strong mouth. + +He sat up at her advent, and setting his book upon the table beside him, +he listened to her angry complaints. + +At first, the courtly Montefeltro inclined to anger upon learning of +the roughness with which Gian Maria had borne himself. But presently he +smiled. + +"When all is said, I see in this no great cause for indignation," he +assured her. "I acknowledge that it may lack the formality that should +attend the addresses of a man in the Duke's position to a lady in yours. +But since he is to wed you, and that soon, why be angered at that he +seeks to pay his court like any other man?" + +"I have talked in vain, then," she answered petulantly, "and I am +misunderstood. I do not intend to wed this ducal clod you have chosen to +be my husband." + +Guidobaldo stared at her with brows raised, and wonder in his fine +eyes. Then he shrugged his shoulders a trifle wearily. This handsome and +well-beloved Guidobaldo was very much a prince, so schooled to princely +ways as to sometimes forget that he was a man. + +"We forgive much to the impetuousness of youth," said he, very coldly. +"But there are bounds to the endurance of every one of us. As your uncle +and your prince, I claim a double duty from you, and you owe a double +allegiance to my wishes. By my twofold authority I have commanded you to +wed with Gian Maria." + +The princess in her was all forgotten, and it was just the woman who +answered him, in a voice of protest: + +"But, Highness, I do not love him." + +A shade of impatience crossed his lofty face. + +"I do not remember," he made answer wearily, "that I loved your aunt. +Yet we were wed, and through habit came to love each other and to be +happy together." + +"I can understand that Monna Elizabetta should have come to love you," +she returned. "You are not as Gian Maria. You were not fat and ugly, +stupid and cruel, as is he." + +It was an appeal that might have won its way to a man's heart through +the ever-ready channel of his vanity. But it did not so with Guidobaldo. +He only shook his head. + +"The matter is not one that I will argue. It were unworthy in us both. +Princes, my child, are not as ordinary folk." + +"In what are they different?" she flashed back at him. "Do they not +hunger and thirst as ordinary folk? Are they not subject to the same +ills; do they not experience the same joys? Are they not born, and do +they not die, just as ordinary folk? In what, then, lies this difference +that forbids them to mate as ordinary folk?" + +Guidobaldo tossed his arms to Heaven, his eyes full of a consternation +that clearly defied utterance. The violence of his gesture drew a gasp +of pain from him. At last, when he had mastered it: + +"They are different," said he, "in that their lives are not their own to +dispose of as they will. They belong to the State which they were born +to govern, and in nothing else does this become of so much importance +as in their mating. It behoves them to contract such alliances as shall +redound to the advantage of their people." A toss of her auburn head was +Valentina's interpolation, but her uncle continued relentlessly in his +cold, formal tones--such tones as those in which he might have addressed +an assembly of his captains: + +"In the present instance we are threatened--Babbiano and Urbino--by +a common foe. And whilst divided, neither of us could withstand him, +united, we shall combine to his overthrow. Therefore does this alliance +become necessary--imperative." + +"I do not apprehend the necessity," she answered, in a voice that +breathed defiance. "If such an alliance as you speak of is desirable, +why may it not be made a purely political one--such a one, for instance, +as now binds Perugia and Camerino to you? What need to bring me into +question?" + +"A little knowledge of history would afford you an answer. Such +political alliances are daily made, and daily broken when more profit +offers in another quarter. But cemented by marriage, the tie, whilst +continuing political, becomes also one of blood. In the case of Urbino +and Babbiano it enters also into consideration that I have no son. It +might well be, Valentina," he pursued, with a calculating coldness that +revolted her, "that a son of yours would yet more strongly link the two +duchies. In time both might become united under him into one great power +that might vie successfully with any in Italy. Now leave me, child. +As you see, I am suffering, and when it is thus with me, and this evil +tyrant has me in its clutches, I prefer to be alone." + +There was a pause, and whilst his eyes were upon hers, hers were upon +the ground in avoidance of his glance. A frown marred her white brow, +her lips were set and her hands clenched. Pity for his physical ills +fought a while with pity for her own mental torment. At last she threw +back her beautiful head, and the manner of that action was instinct with +insubordination. + +"It grieves me to harass your Highness in such a season," she assured +him, "but I must beg your indulgence. These things may be as you say. +Your plans may be the noblest that were ever conceived, since to their +consummation would be entailed the sacrifice of your own flesh and +blood--in the person of your niece. But I will have no part in them. +It may be that I lack a like nobility of soul; it may be that I am all +unworthy of the high station to which I was born, through no fault of my +own. And so, my lord," she ended, her voice, her face, her gesture, all +imparting an irrevocable finality to her words, "I will not wed this +Duke of Babbiano--no, not to cement alliances with a hundred duchies." + +"Valentina!" he exclaimed, roused out of his wonted calm. "Do you forget +that you are my niece?" + +"Since you appear to have forgotten it." + +"These woman's whims----" he began, when she interrupted him. + +"Perhaps they will serve to remind you that I am a woman, and perhaps if +you remember that, you may consider how very natural it is that, being a +woman, I should refuse to wed for--for political ends." + +"To your chamber," he commanded, now thoroughly aroused. "And on your +knees beg Heaven's grace to help you to see your duty, since no words of +mine prevail." + +"Oh, that the Duchess were returned from Mantua," she sighed. "The good +Monna Elizabetta might melt you to some pity." + +"Monna Elizabetta is too dutiful herself to do aught but urge you to +dutifulness. There, child," he added, in a more wheedling tone, "set +aside this disobedient mood, which is unlike you and becomes you ill. +You shall be wed with a splendour and magnificence that will set every +princess in Italy green with envy. Your dowry is set at fifty thousand +ducats, and Giuliano della Rovere shall pronounce the benediction. +Already I have sent orders to Ferrara, to the incomparable Anichino, for +the majestate girdle; I will send to Venice for gold leaf and----" + +"But do you not heed me that I will not wed?" she broke in with +passionate calm, her face white, her bosom heaving. + +He rose, leaning heavily upon a gold-headed cane, and looked at her a +moment without speaking, his brows contracted. Then: + +"Your betrothal to Gian Maria is proclaimed," he announced in a voice +cold with finality. "I have passed my word to the Duke, and your +marriage shall take place so soon as he returns. Now go. Such scenes as +these are wearisome to a sick man, and they are undignified." + +"But, your Highness," she began, an imploring note now taking the place +that lately had been held by defiance. + +"Go!" he blazed, stamping his foot, and then to save his dignity--for +he feared that she might still remain--he himself turned on his heel and +passed from the apartment. + +Left to herself, she stood there a moment, allowed a sigh to escape +her, and brushed an angry tear from her brown eyes. Then, with a sudden +movement that seemed to imply suppression of her mood, she walked to the +door by which she entered, and left the chamber. + +She went down the long gallery, whose walls glowed with the new frescoes +from the wonder-working brush of Andrea Mantegna; she crossed her +ante-chamber and gained the very room where some hours ago she had +received the insult of Gian Maria's odious advances. She passed through +the now empty room, and stepped out on to the terrace that overlooked +the paradise-like gardens of the Palace. + +Close by the fountain stood a white marble seat, over which, earlier +that day, one of her women had thrown a cloak of crimson velvet. There +she now sat herself to think out the monstrous situation that beset her. +The air was warm and balmy and heavy with the scent of flowers from the +garden below. The splashing of the fountain seemed to soothe her, and +for a little while her eyes were upon that gleaming water, which rose +high in a crystal column, then broke and fell, a shower of glittering +jewels, into the broad marble basin. Then, her eyes growing tired, +they strayed to the marble balustrade, where a peacock strode with +overweening dignity; they passed on to the gardens below, gay with early +blossoms, in their stately frames of tall, boxwood hedges, and flanked +by myrtles and tall cypresses standing gaunt and black against the deep +saffron of the vesper sky. + +Saving the splashing of the fountain, and the occasional harsh scream +of the peacock, all was at peace, as if by contrast with the tumult that +raged in Valentina's soul. Then another sound broke the stillness--a +soft step, crunching the gravel of the walk. She turned, and behind her +stood the magnificent Gonzaga, a smile that at once reflected pleasure +and surprise upon his handsome face. + +"Alone, Madonna?" he said, in accents of mild wonder, his fingers softly +stirring the strings of the lute he carried, and without which he seldom +appeared about the Court. + +"As you see," she answered, and her tone was the tone of one whose +thoughts are taken up with other things. + +Her glance moved away from him again, and in a moment it seemed as if +she had forgotten his presence, so absorbed grew the expression of her +face. + +But Gonzaga was not easily discouraged. Patience was the one virtue +that Valentina more than any woman--and there had been many in his +young life--had inculcated into a soul that in the main was anything but +virtuous. He came a step nearer, and leant lightly against the edge of +her seat, his shapely legs crossed, his graceful body inclining ever so +slightly towards her. + +"You are pensive, Madonna," he murmured, in his rich, caressing voice. + +"Why then," she reproved him, but in a mild tone, "do you intrude upon +my thoughts?" + +"Because they seem sad thoughts, Madonna." he answered, glibly, "and I +were a poor friend did I not seek to rouse you out of them." + +"You are that, Gonzaga?" she questioned, without looking at him. "You +are my friend?" + +He seemed to quiver and then draw himself upright, whilst across his +face there swept a shade of something that may have been good or bad or +partly both. Then he leant down until his head came very near her own. + +"Your friend?" quoth he. "Ah, more than your friend. Count me your very +slave, Madonna." + +She looked at him now, and in his countenance she saw a reflection of +the ardour that had spoken in his voice. In his eyes there was a glance +of burning intensity. She drew away from him, and at first he accounted +himself repulsed, but pointing to the space she had left: + +"Sit here beside me, Gonzaga," she said quietly, and he, scarce +crediting his own good fortune that so much favour should be showered +upon him, obeyed her in a half-timid fashion that was at odd variance +with his late bold words. + +He laughed lightly, perhaps to cover the embarrassment that beset him, +and dropping his jewelled cap, he flung one white-cased leg over the +other and took his lute in his lap, his fingers again wandering to the +strings. + +"I have a new song, Madonna," he announced, with a gaiety that was +obviously forced. "It is in ottava rima, a faint echo of the immortal +Niccolo Correggio, composed in honour of one whose description is beyond +the flight of human song." + +"Yet you sing of her?" + +"It is no better than an acknowledgment of the impossibility to sing of +her. Thus----" And striking a chord or two, he began, a mezza voce: + + "Quando sorrideran' in ciel + Gli occhi tuoi ai santi--" + +She laid a hand upon his arm to stay him. + +"Not now, Gonzaga," she begged, "I am in no humour for your song, sweet +though I doubt not that it be." + +A shade of disappointment and ruffled vanity crossed his face. Women +had been wont to listen greedily to his strambotti, enthralled by the +cunning of the words and the seductive sweetness of his voice. + +"Ah, never look so glum," she cried, smiling now at his crestfallen air. +"If I have not hearkened now, I will again. Forgive me, good Gonzaga," +she begged him, with a sweetness no man could have resisted. And then a +sigh fluttered from her lips; a sound that was like a sob came after it, +and her hand closed upon his arm. + +"They are breaking my heart, my friend. Oh, that you had left me at +peace in the Convent of Santa Sofia!" + +He turned to her, all solicitude and gentleness, to inquire the reason +of her outburst. + +"It is this odious alliance into which they seek to force me with that +man from Babbiano. I have told Guidobaldo that I will not wed this Duke. +But as profitably might I tell Fate that I will not die. The one is as +unheeding as the other." + +Gonzaga sighed profoundly, in sympathy, but said nothing. + +Here was a grief to which he could not minister, a grievance that +he could do nothing to remove. She turned from him with a gesture of +impatience. + +"You sigh," she exclaimed, "and you bewail the cruelty of the fate in +store for me. But you can do nothing for me. You are all words, Gonzaga. +You can call yourself more than my friend--my very slave. Yet, when I +need your help, what do you offer me? A sigh!" + +"Madonna, you are unjust," he was quick to answer, with some heat. "I +did not dream--I did not dare to dream--that it was my help you sought. +My sympathy, I believed, was all that you invited, and so, lest I should +seem presumptuous, it was all I offered. But if my help you need; if you +seek a means to evade this alliance that you rightly describe as odious, +such help as it lies in a man's power to render shall you have from me." + +He spoke almost fiercely and with a certain grim confidence, for all +that as yet no plan had formed itself in his mind. + +Indeed, had a course been clear to him, there had been perhaps less +confidence in his tone, for, after all, he was not by nature a man +of action, and his character was the very reverse of valiant. Yet so +excellent an actor was he as to deceive even himself by his acting, and +in this suggestion of some vague fine deeds that he would do, he felt +himself stirred by a sudden martial ardour, and capable of all. He was +stirred, too, by the passion with which Valentina's beauty filled +him--a passion that went nearer to making a man of him than Nature had +succeeded in doing. + +That now, in the hour of her need, she should turn so readily to him for +assistance, he accepted as proof that she was not deaf to the voice of +this great love he bore her, but of which he never yet had dared to show +a sign. The passing jelousy that he had entertained for that wounded +knight they had met at Acquasparta was laid to rest by her present +attitude towards him, the knight, himself forgotten. + +As for Valentina, she listened to his ready speech and earnest tone with +growing wonder both at him and at herself. Her own words had been little +more than a petulant outburst. Of actually finding a way to elude her +uncle's wishes she had no thought--unless it lay in carrying out that +threat of hers to take the veil. Now, however, that Gonzaga spoke so +bravely of doing what man could do to help her to evade that marriage, +the thought of active resistance took an inviting shape. + +A timid hope--a hope that was afraid of being shattered before it grew +to any strength--peeped now from the wondering eyes she turned on her +companion. + +"Is there a way, Gonzaga?" she asked, after a pause. + +Now during that pause his mind had been very busy. Something of a poet, +he was blessed with wits of a certain quickness, and was a man of very +ready fancy. Like an inspiration an idea had come to him; out of this +had sprung another, and yet another, until a chain of events by +which the frustration of the schemes of Babbiano and Urbino might be +accomplished, was complete. + +"I think," he said slowly, his eyes upon the ground, "that I know a +way." + +Her glance was now eager, her lip tremulous, and her face a little pale. +She leant towards him. + +"Tell me," she besought him feverishly. + +He set his lute on the seat beside him, and his eyes looked round in +apprehensive survey. + +"Not here," he muttered. "There are too many ears in the Palace of +Urbino. Will it please you to walk in the gardens? I will tell you +there." + +They rose together, so ready was her assent. They looked at each other +for a second. Then, side by side, they passed down the wide marble steps +that led from the terrace to the box-flanked walks of the gardens. Here, +among the lengthening shadows, they paced in silence for a while, what +time Gonzaga sought for words in which to propound his plan. At length, +grown impatient, Valentina urged him with a question. + +"What I counsel, Madonna," he answered her, "is open defiance." + +"Such a course I am already pursuing. But whither will it lead me?" + +"I do not mean the mere defiance of words--mere protestations that you +will not wed Gian Maria. Listen, Madonna! The Castle of Roccaleone is +your property. It is perhaps the stoutest fortress in all Italy, to-day. +Lightly garrisoned and well-provisioned it might withstand a year's +siege." + +She turned to him, having guessed already the proposal in his mind, +and for all that at first her eyes looked startled, yet presently +they kindled to a light of daring that augured well for a very stout +adventure. It was a wildly romantic notion, this of Gonzaga's, worthy of +a poet's perfervid brain, and yet it attracted her by its unprecedented +flavour. + +"Could it be done?" she wondered, her eyes sparkling at the anticipation +of such a deed. + +"It could, indeed it could," he answered, with an eagerness no whit less +than her own. "Immure yourself in Roccaleone, and thence hurl defiance +at Urbino and Babbiano, refusing to surrender until they grant your +terms--that you are to marry as you list." + +"And you will help me in this?" she questioned, her mind--in its +innocence--inclining more and more to the mad project. + +"With all my strength and wit," he answered, readily and gallantly. "I +will so victual the place that it shall be able to stand siege for a +whole year, should the need arise, and I will find you the men to arm +it--a score will, I should think, be ample for our needs, since it is +mainly upon the natural strength of the place that we rely." + +"And then," said she, "I shall need a captain." + +Gonzaga made her a low bow. + +"If you will honour me with the office, Madonna, I shall serve you +loyally whilst I have life." + +A smile quivered for a second on her lips, but was gone ere the courtier +had straightened himself from his bow, for far was it from her wishes +to wound his spirit. But the notion of this scented fop in the role +of captain, ruling a handful of rough mercenaries, and directing the +operations for the resistance of an assiduous siege, touched her with +its ludicrous note. Yet, if she refused him this, it was more than +likely he would deem himself offended, and refuse to advance their +plans. It crossed her mind--in the full confidence of youth--that if he +should fail her when the hour of action came, she was of stout enough +heart to aid herself. And so she consented, whereat again he bowed, this +time in gratitude. And then a sudden thought occurred to her, and with +it came dismay. + +"But for all this, Gonzaga--for the men and the victualling--money will +be needed." + +"If you will let my friendship be proven also in that----" he began. + +But she interrupted him, struck suddenly with a solution to the riddle. + +"No, no!" she exclaimed. His face fell a little. He had hoped to place +her in his debt in every possible way, yet here was one in which she +raised a barrier. Upon her head she wore a fret of gold, so richly laced +with pearls as to be worth a prince's ransom. This she now made haste to +unfasten with fingers that excitement set a-tremble. "There!" she cried, +holding it out to him. "Turn that to money, my friend. It should yield +you ducats enough for this enterprise." + +It next occurred to her that she could not go alone into that castle +with just Gonzaga and the men he was about to enrol. His answer came +with a promptness that showed he had considered, also, that. + +"By no means," he answered her. "When the time comes you must select +such of your ladies--say three or four--as appear suitable and have +your trust. You may take a priest as well, a page or two, and a few +servants." + +Thus, in the gloaming, amid the shadows of that old Italian garden, +was the plot laid by which Valentina was to escape alliance with his +Highness of Babbiano. But there was more than that in it, although +that was all that Valentina saw. It was, too, a plot by which she might +become the wife of Messer Romeo Gonzaga. + +He was an exiled member of that famous Mantua family, which has bred +some scoundrels and one saint. With the money which, at parting, a +doting mother had bestowed upon him, he was cutting a brave figure at +the Urbino court, where he was tolerated by virtue of his kinship with +Guidobaldo's Duchess, Monna Elizabetta. But his means were running low, +and it behoved him to turn his attention to such quarters as might yield +him profit. Being poor-spirited, and--since his tastes had not inclined +that way--untrained in arms, it would have been futile for him to have +sought the career common to adventurers of his age. Yet an adventurer +at heart he was, and since the fields of Mars were little suited to his +nature, he had long pondered upon the possibilities afforded him by +the lists of Cupid. Guidobaldo--purely out of consideration for Monna +Elizabetta--had shown him a high degree of favour, and upon this he had +been vain enough to found great hopes--for Guidobaldo had two nieces. +High had these hopes run when he was chosen to escort the lovely +Valentina della Rovere from the Convent of Santa Sofia to her uncle's +court. But of late they had withered, since he had learnt what were her +uncle's plans for this lady's future. And now, by her own action, and by +the plot into which she had entered with him, they rose once more. + +To thwart Guidobaldo might prove a dangerous thing, and his life might +pay the forfeit if his schemes miscarried--clement and merciful though +Guidobaldo was. But if they succeeded, and if by love or by force +he could bring Valentina to wed him, he was tolerably confident that +Guidobaldo, seeing matters had gone too far--since Gian Maria would +certainly refuse to wed Gonzaga's widow--would let them be. To this end +no plan could be more propitious than that into which he had lured her. +Guidobaldo might besiege them in Roccaleone and might eventually reduce +them by force of arms--a circumstance, however, which, despite his +words, he deemed extremely remote. But if only he could wed Valentina +before they capitulated, he thought that he would have little cause to +fear any consequences of Guidobaldo's wrath. After all, in so far as +birth and family were concerned, Romeo Gonzaga was nowise the inferior +of his Highness of Urbino. Guidobaldo had yet another niece, and he +might cement with her the desired alliance with Babbiano. + +Alone in the gardens of the Palace, Gonzaga paced after night had +fallen, and with his eyes to the stars that began to fleck the violet +sky, he smiled a smile of cunning gratification. He bethought him how +well advised had been his suggestion that they should take a priest to +Roccaleone. Unless his prophetic sense led him deeply into error, they +would find work for that priest before the castle was surrendered. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. AMONG THE DREGS OF WINE + + +And so it befell that whilst by Guidobaldo's orders the preparations for +Valentina's nuptials went forward with feverish haste--whilst painters, +carvers, and artificers in gold and silver applied themselves to their +hurried tasks; whilst messengers raced to Venice for gold leaf and +ultramarine for the wedding-chests whilst the nuptial bed was being +brought from Rome and the chariot from Ferrara; whilst costly +stuffs were being collected, and the wedding-garments fashioned--the +magnificent Romeo Gonzaga was, on his side, as diligently contriving to +render vain all that toil of preparation. + +On the evening of the third day of his conspiring he sat in the room +allotted to him in the Palace of Urbino, and matured his plans. And +so well pleased was he with his self-communion that, as he sat at his +window, there was a contented smile upon his lips. + +He allowed his glance to stray adown the slopes of that arid waste of +rocks, to the River Metauro, winding its way to the sea, through fertile +plains, and gleaming here silver and yonder gold in the evening light. +Not quite so complacently would he have smiled had he deemed the +enterprise upon which he was engaging to be of that warlike character +which he had represented to Valentina. He did not want for cunning, +nor for judgment of the working of human minds, and he very reasonably +opined that once the Lady Valentina immured herself in Roccaleone and +sent word to her uncle that she would not wed Gian Maria, nor return to +the Court of Urbino until he passed her his ducal word that she should +hear no more of the union, the Duke would be the first to capitulate. + +He contended that this might not happen at once--nor did he wish it to; +messages would pass, and Guidobaldo would seek by cajolery to win back +his niece. This she would resist, and, in the end her uncle would see +the impassable nature of the situation, and agree to her terms that it +might be ended. That it should come to arms, and that Guidobaldo should +move to besiege Roccaleone, he did not for a moment believe--for what +manner of ridicule would he not draw upon himself from the neighbouring +States? At the worst, even if a siege there was, it would never be +carried out with the rigour of ordinary warfare; there would be no +assaults, no bombarding; it would be a simple investment, with the +object of intercepting resources, so as to starve the garrison into +submission--for they would never dream of such victualling as Gonzaga +was preparing. + +Thus communed Gonzaga with himself, and the smile enlivening the corners +of his weak mouth grew more thoughtful. He dreamed great dreams that +evening; he had wondrous visions of a future princely power that should +come to be his own by virtue of this alliance that he was so skilfully +encompassing--a fool in a fool's paradise, with his folly for only +company. + +But for all that, his dreams were wondrous sweet to indulge and his +visions truly alluring to contemplate. There were plans to be formed +and means to be devised for the flight to Roccaleone. There were +calculations to be made; the estimating of victuals, arms, and men; and +once these calculations were complete, there were all these things to +be obtained. The victuals he had already provided for, whilst of arms he +had no need to think; Roccaleone should be well stocked with them. But +the finding of the men gave him some concern. He had decided to enrol a +score, which was surely the smallest number with which he could make a +fair show of being martially in earnest. But even though the number +was modest, where was he to find twenty fellows who reeked so little +of their lives as to embark upon such an enterprise--even if lured by +generous pay--and thereby incur the ducal displeasure of Guidobaido? + +He dressed himself with sober rigour for once in his foppish life, and +descended, after night had fallen, to a tavern in a poor street behind +the Duomo, hoping that there, among the dregs of wine, he might find +what he required. + +By great good fortune he chanced upon an old freebooting captain, who +once had been a meaner sort of condottiero, but who was sorely reduced +by bad fortune and bad wine. + +The tavern was a dingy, cut-throat place, which the delicate Gonzaga +had not entered without a tremor, invoking the saints' protection, and +crossing himself ere he set foot across the threshold. Some pieces of +goat were being cooked on the embers, in a great fireplace at the end +of the room farthest from the door. Before this, Ser Luciano--the +taverner--squatted on his heels and fanned so diligently that a cloud +of ashes rose ceiling high and spread itself, together with the noisome +smoke, throughout the squalid chamber. A brass lamp swung from the +ceiling, and shone freely through that smoke, as shines the moon through +an evening mist. So foully stank the place that at first Gonzaga was +moved to get him thence. Only the reflection that nowhere in Urbino was +he as likely as here to find the thing he sought, impelled him to stifle +his natural squeamishness and remain. He slipped upon some grease, and +barely saved himself from measuring his length upon that filthy floor, +a matter which provoked a malicious guffaw from a tattered giant who +watched with interest his mincing advent. + +Perspiring, and with nerves unstrung, the courtier picked his way to a +table by the wall, and seated himself upon the coarse deal bench before +it, praying that he might be left its sole occupant. + +On the opposite wall hung a blackened crucifix and a small holy-water +stoup that had been dry for a generation, and was now a receptacle for +dust and a withered sprig of rosemary. Immediately beneath this--in the +company of a couple of tatterdemalions worthy of him--sat the giant +who had mocked his escape from falling, and as Gonzaga took his seat he +heard the fellow's voice, guttural, bottle-thickened and contentious. + +"And this wine, Luciano? Sangue della Madonna! Will you bring it before +dropping dead, pig?" + +Gonzaga shuddered and would have crossed himself again for protection +against what seemed a very devil incarnate, but that the ruffian's +blood-shot eye was set upon him in a stony stare. + +"I come, cavaliere, I come," cried the timid host, leaping to his +feet, and leaving the goat to burn while he ministered to the giant's +unquenchable thirst. + +The title caused Gonzaga to start, and he bent his eyes again on the +man's face. He found it villainous of expression, inflamed and blotched; +the hair hung matted about a bullet head, and the eyes glared fiercely +from either side of a pendulous nose. Of the knightly rank by which +the taverner addressed him the fellow bore no outward signs. Arms he +carried, it is true; a sword and dagger at his belt, whilst beside him +on the table stood a rusty steel-cap. But these warlike tools served +only to give him the appearance of a roving masnadiero or a cut-throat +for hire. Presently abandoning the comtemplation of Gonzaga he turned to +his companions, and across to the listener floated a coarse and boasting +tale of a plunderous warfare in Sicily ten years agone. Gonzaga became +excited. It seemed indeed as if this were man who might be useful to +him. He made pretence to sip the wine Luciano had brought him, and +listened avidly to that swashbuckling story, from which it appeared that +this knave had once been better circumstanced and something of a leader. +Intently he listened, and wondered whether such men as he boasted he +had led in that campaign were still to be found and could be brought +together. + +At the end of perhaps a half-hour the two companions of that thirsty +giant rose and took their leave of him. They cast a passing glance upon +Gonzaga, and were gone. + +A little while he hesitated. The ruffian seemed to have lapsed into a +reverie, or else he slept with open eyes. Calling up his courage the +gallant rose at last and moved across the room. All unversed in tavern +ways was the magnificent Gonzaga, and he who at court, in ballroom or +in antechamber, was a very mirror of all the graces of a courtier, felt +awkward here and ill at ease. + +At length, summoning his wits to his aid: + +"Good sir," said he, with some timidity, "will you do me the honour to +share a flagon with me?" + +The ruffian's eye, which but a moment back had looked vacuous and +melancholy, now quickened until it seemed ablaze. He raised his +bloodshot orbs and boldly encountered Gonzaga's uneasy glance. His lips +fell apart with an anticipatory smack, his back stiffened, and his head +was raised until his chin took on so haughty a tilt that Gonzaga feared +his proffered hospitality was on the point of suffering a scornful +rejection. + +"Will I share a flagon?" gasped the fellow, as, being the sinner that he +was and knew himself to be, he might have gasped: "Will I go to Heaven?" +"Will I--will I----?" He paused, and pursed his lips. His eyebrows were +puckered and his expression grew mighty cunning as again he took stock +of this pretty fellow who offered flagons of wine to down-at-heel +adventurers like himself. He had all but asked what was to be required +of him in exchange for this, when suddenly he bethought him--with the +knavish philosophy adversity had taught him--that were he told for what +it was intended that the wine should bribe him, and did the business +suit him not, he should, in the confession of it, lose the wine; whilst +did he but hold his peace until he had drunk, it would be his thereafter +to please himself about the business when it came to be proposed. + +He composed his rugged features into the rude semblance of a smile. + +"Sweet young sir," he murmured, "sweet, gentle and most illustrious +lord, I would share a hogshead with such a nobleman as you." + +"I am to take it that you will drink?" quoth Gonzaga, who had scarce +known what to make of the man's last words. + +"Body of Bacchus! Yes. I'll drink with you gentile signorino, until your +purse be empty or the world run dry." And he leered a mixture of mockery +and satisfaction. + +Gonzaga, still half uncertain of his ground, called the taverner +and bade him bring a flagon of his best. While Luciano was about the +fetching of the wine, constraint sat upon that oddly discordant pair. + +"It is a chill night," commented Gonzaga presently, seating himself +opposite his swashbuckler. + +"Young sir, your wits have lost their edge. The night is warm. + +"I said," spluttered Gonzaga, who was unused to contradiction from his +inferiors, and wished now to assert himself, "that the night is chill." + +"You lied, then," returned the other, with a fresh leer, "for, as I +answered you, the night is warm. Piaghe di Cristo! I am an ill man to +contradict, my pretty gallant, and if I say the night is warm, warm it +shall be though there be snow on Mount Vesuvius." + +The courtier turned pink at that, and but for the arrival of +the taverner with the wine, it is possible he might have done an +unconscionable rashness. At sight of the red liquor the fury died out of +the ruffler's face. + +"A long life, a long thirst, a long purse, and a short memory!" was his +toast, into whose cryptic meaning Gonzaga made no attempt to pry. As the +fellow set down his cup, and with his sleeve removed the moisture from +his unshorn mouth, "May I not learn," he inquired, "whose hospitality I +have the honour of enjoying?" + +"Heard you ever of Romeo Gonzaga?" + +"Of Gonzaga, yes; though of Romeo Gonzaga never. Are you he?" + +Gonzaga bowed his head. + +"A noble family yours," returned the swashbuckler, in a tone that +implied his own to be as good. "Let me name myself to you. I am Ercole +Fortemani," he said, with the proud air of one who announced himself an +emperor. + +"A formidable name," said Gonzaga, in accents of surprise, "and it bears +a noble sound." + +The great fellow turned on him in a sudden anger. + +"Why that astonishment?" he blazed. "I tell you my name is both noble +and formidable, and you shall find me as formidable as I am noble. +Diavolo! Seems it incredible?" + +"Said I so?" protested Gonzaga. + +"You had been dead by now if you had, Messer Gonzaga. But you thought +so, and I may take leave to show you how bold a man it needs to think so +without suffering." + +Ruffled as a turkey-cock, wounded in his pride and in his vanity, Ercole +hastened to enlighten Gonzaga on his personality. + +"Learn, sir," he announced, "that I am Captain Ercole Fortemani. I held +that rank in the army of the Pope. I have served the Pisans and the +noble Baglioni of Perugia with honour and distinction. I have commanded +a hundred lances of Gianinoni's famous free-company. I have fought with +the French against the Spaniards, and with the Spaniards against the +French, and I have served the Borgia, who is plotting against both. I +have trailed a pike in the emperor's following, and I have held the rank +of captain, too, in the army of the King of Naples. Now, young sir, you +have learned something of me, and if my name is not written in letters +of fire from one end of Italy to the other, it is--Body of God!--because +the hands that hired me to the work garnered the glory of my deeds." + +"A noble record," said Gonzaga, who had credulously absorbed that +catalogue of lies, "a very noble record." + +"Not so," the other contradicted, for the lust of contradiction that was +a part of him. "A great record, if you will, to commend me to hireling +service. But you may not call the service of a hireling noble." + +"It is a matter we will not quarrel over," said Gonzaga soothingly. The +man's ferocity was terrific. + +"Who says that we shall not?" he demanded. "Who will baulk me if I have +a mind to quarrel over it? Answer me!" and he half rose from his seat, +moved by the anger into which he was lashing himself. "But patience!" he +broke off, subsiding on a sudden. "I take it, it was not out of regard +for my fine eyes, nor drawn by the elegance of my apparel"--and he +raised a corner of his tattered cloak--"nor yet because you wish to +throw a main with me, that you have sought my acquaintance, and called +for this wine. You require service of me?" + +"You have guessed it." + +"A prodigious discernment, by the Host!" He seemed to incline rather +tediously to irony. Then his face grew stern, and he lowered his voice +until it was no more than a growling whisper. "Heed me, Messer Gonzaga. +If the service you require be the slitting of a gullet or some kindred +foul business, which my seeming neediness leads you to suppose me +ripe for, let me counsel you, as you value your own skin, to leave the +service unmentioned, and get you gone." + +In hasty, frantic, fearful protest were Gonzaga's hands outspread. + +"Sir, sir--I--I could not have thought it of you," he spluttered, with +warmth, much of which was genuine, for it rejoiced him to see some +scruples still shining in the foul heap of this man's rascally +existence. A knave whose knavery knew no limits would hardly have suited +his ends. "I do need a service, but it is no dark-corner work. It is a +considerable enterprise, and one in which, I think, you should prove the +very man I need." + +"Let me know more," quoth Ercole grandiloquently. + +"I need first your word that should the undertaking prove unsuited to +you, or beyond you, you will respect the matter, and keep it secret." + +"Body of Satan! No corpse was ever half so dumb as I shall be." + +"Excellent! Can you find me a score of stout fellows to form a bodyguard +and a garrison, who, in return for good quarters--perchance for some +weeks--and payment at four times the ordinary mercenaries' rate, will +be willing to take some risk, and chance even a brush with the Duke's +forces?" + +Ercole blew out his mottled cheeks until Gonzaga feared that he would +burst them. + +"It's outlawry!" he roared, when he had found his voice. "Outlawry, or +I'm a fool." + +"Why, yes," confessed Gonzaga. "It is outlaw matter of a kind. But the +risk is slender." + +"Can you tell me no more?" + +"I dare not." + +Ercole emptied his wine-cup at a draught and splashed the dregs on +to the floor. Then, setting down the empty vessel, he sat steeped in +thought awhile. Growing impatient: + +"Well," cried Gonzaga at last, "can you help me? Can you find the men?" + +"If you were to tell me more of the nature of this service you require, +I might find a hundred with ease." + +"As I have said--I need but a score." + +Ercole looked mighty grave, and thoughtfully rubbed his long nose. + +"It might be done," said he, after a pause. "But we shall have to look +for desperate knaves; men who are already under a ban, and to whom it +will matter little to have another item added to their indebtedness to +the law should they fall into its talons. How soon shall you require +this forlorn company?" + +"By to-morrow night." + +"I wonder----" mused Ercole. He was counting on his fingers, and +appeared to have lapsed into mental calculations. "I could get +half-a-score or a dozen within a couple of hours. But a score----" Again +he paused, and again he fell to thinking. At last, more briskly: "Let us +hear what pay you offer me, to thrust myself thus blindfolded into +this business of yours as leader of the company you require?" he asked +suddenly. + +Gonzaga's face fell at that. Then he suddenly stiffened, and put on an +expression of haughtiness. + +"It is my intent to lead this company myself," he loftily informed the +ruffler. + +"Body of God!" gasped Ercole, upon whose mind intruded a grotesque +picture of such a company as he would assemble, being led by this +mincing carpet-knight. Then recollecting himself: "If that be so," said +he, "you had best, yourself, enrol it. Felicissima notte!" And he waved +him a farewell across the table. + +Here was a poser for Gonzaga. How was he to go about such a business as +that? It was beyond his powers. Thus much he protested frankly. + +"Now attend to me, young sir," was the other's answer. "The matter +stands thus: If I can repair to certain friends of mine with the +information that an affair is afoot, the particulars of which I may not +give them, but in which I am to lead them myself, sharing such risk as +there may be, I do not doubt but that by this time to-morrow I can have +a score of them enrolled--such is their confidence in Ercole Fortemani. +But if I take them to enter a service unknown, under a leader equally +unknown, the forming of such a company would be a mighty tedious +matter." + +This was an argument to the force of which Gonzaga could not remain +insensible. After a moment's consideration, he offered Ercole fifty gold +florins in earnest of good faith and the promise of pay, thereafter, at +the rate of twenty gold florins a month for as long as he should need +his services and Ercole, who in all his free-lancing days had never +earned the tenth of such a sum, was ready to fall upon this most noble +gentleman's neck, and weep for very joy and brotherly affection. + +The matter being settled, Gonzaga produced a heavy bag which gave forth +a jangle mighty pleasant to the ears of Fortemani, and let it drop with +a chink upon the table. + +"There are a hundred florins for the equipment of this company. I do not +wish to have a regiment of out-at-elbow tatterdemalions at my heels." +And his eye swept in an uncomplimentary manner over Ercole's apparel. +"See that you dress them fittingly." + +"It shall be done, Magnificent," answered Ercole, with a show of such +respect as he had not hitherto manifested. "And arms?" + +"Give them pikes and arquebuses, if you will; but nothing more. The +place we are bound for is well stocked with armour--but even that may +not be required." + +"May not be required?" echoed the more and more astonished swashbuckler. +Were they to be paid on so lordly a scale, clothed and fed, to induce +them upon a business that might carry no fighting with it? Surely he +had never sold himself into a more likely or promising service, and that +night he dreamt in his sleep that he was become a gentleman's steward, +and that at his heels marched an endless company of lacqueys in +flamboyant liveries. On the morrow he awoke to the persuasion that at +last, of a truth, was his fortune made, and that hereafter there would +be no more pike-trailing for his war-worn old arms. + +Conscientiously he set about enrolling the company, for, in his way, +this Ercole Fortemani was a conscientious man--boisterous and unruly +if you will; a rogue, in his way, with scant respect for property; not +above cogging dice or even filching a purse upon occasion when hard +driven by necessity--for all that he was gently born and had held +honourable employment; a drunkard by long habit, and a swaggering +brawler upon the merest provocation. But for all that, riotous and +dishonest though he might be in the general commerce of life, yet to the +hand that hired him he strove--not always successfully, perhaps, but, at +least, always earnestly--to be loyal. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. THE "TRATTA DI CORDE" + + +Whilst the bustle of preparation went on briskly in Urbino, Gian Maria, +on his side, was rapidly disposing of affairs in Babbiano, that he might +return to the nuptials for which he was impatient. But he had chanced +upon a deeper tangle than he had reckoned with, and more to do than he +had looked for. + +On the day of his departure from Urbino, he had ridden as far as Cagli, +and halted at the house of the noble Messer Valdicampo. This had been +placed at his disposal, and there he proposed to lie the night. They +had supped--the Duke, de' Alvari, Gismondo Santi, Messer Valdicampo, his +wife and two daughters, and a couple of friends, potential citizens of +Cagli, whom he had invited, that they might witness the honour that was +being done his house. It waxed late, and the torpor that ensues upon the +generous gratification of appetite was settling upon the company when +Armstadt--Gian Maria's Swiss captain--entered and approached his master +with the air of a man who is the bearer of news. He halted a pace or two +from the Duke's high-backed chair, and stood eyeing Gian Maria in stupid +patience. + +"Well, fool?" growled the Duke, turning his head. + +The Swiss approached another step. "They have brought him, Highness," he +said in a confidential whisper. + +"Am I a wizard that I must read your thoughts?" hectored Gian Maria. +"Who has brought whom?" + +Armstadt eyed the company in hesitation. Then, stepping close to the +Duke, he murmured in his ear: + +"The men I left behind have brought the fool--Ser Peppe." + +A sudden brightening of the eye showed that Gian Maria understood. +Without apology to the board, he turned and whispered back to his +captain to have the fellow taken to his chamber, there to await him. +"Let a couple of your knaves be in attendance, and do you come too, +Martino." + +Martin bowed, and withdrew, whereupon Gian Maria found grace to crave +his host's pardon, with the explanation that the man had brought him +news he had been expecting. Valdicampo, who for the honour of having a +Duke sleep beneath his roof would have stomached improprieties far more +flagrant, belittled the matter and dismissed it. And presently Gian +Maria rose with the announcement that he had far to journey on the +morrow, and so, with his host's good leave, would be abed. + +Valdicampo, himself, then played the part of chamberlain, and taking up +one of the large candle branches, he lighted the Duke to his apartments. +He would have carried his good offices, and his candles, as far as Gian +Maria's very bed-chamber, but that in the ante-room his Highness, as +politely as might be, bade him set down the lights and leave him. + +The Duke remained standing for a moment, deliberating whether to afford +knowledge to Alvari and Santi--who had followed him and stood awaiting +his commands--of what he was about to do. In the end he decided that he +would act alone and upon his sole discretion. So he dismissed them. + +When they had gone and he was quite alone, he clapped his hands +together, and in answer to that summons the door of his bedroom opened, +revealing Martin Armstadt on the threshold. + +"He is there?" inquired the Duke. + +"Awaiting your Highness," answered the Swiss, and he held the door for +Gian Maria to enter. + +The bedchamber apportioned the Duke in the Palazzo Valdicampo was a +noble and lofty room, in the midst of which loomed the great carved bed +of honour, with its upright pillars and funereal canopy. + +On the overmantel stood two five-armed sconces with lighted tapers. Yet +Gian Maria did not seem to deem that there was light enough for such +purpose as he entertained, for he bade Martin fetch him the candelabra +that had been left behind. Then he turned his attention to the group +standing by the window, where the light from the overmantel fell full +upon it. + +This consisted of three men, two being mercenaries of Armstadt's guard, +in corselet and morion, and the third, who stood captive between, the +unfortunate Ser Peppe. The fool's face was paler than its wont, whilst +the usual roguery had passed from his eyes and his mouth, fear having +taken possession of its room. He met the Duke's cruel glance with one of +alarm and piteous entreaty. + +Having assured himself that Peppe had no weapons, and that his arms were +pinioned behind him, Gian Maria bade the two guards withdraw, but hold +themselves in readiness in the ante-chamber with Armstadt. Then he +turned to Peppe with a scowl on his low brow. + +"You are not so merry as you were this morning, fool," he scoffed. + +Peppino squirmed a little, but his nature, schooled by the long habit of +jest, prompted a bold whimsicality in his reply. + +"The circumstances are scarcely as propitious--to me. Your Highness, +though, seems in excellent good-humour." + +Gian Maria looked at him angrily a moment. He was a slow-witted man, and +he could devise no ready answer, no such cutting gibe as it would have +pleasured him to administer. He walked leisurely to the fire-place, and +leant his elbow on the overmantel. + +"Your humour led you into saying some things for which I should be +merciful if I had you whipped." + +"And, by the same reasoning, charitable if you had me hanged," returned +the fool dryly, a pale smile on his lips. + +"Ah! You acknowledge it?" cried Gian Maria, never seeing the irony +intended. "But I am a very clement prince, fool." + +"Proverbially clement," the jester protested, but he did not succeed +this time in excluding the sarcasm from his voice. + +Gian Maria shot him a furious glance. + +"Are you mocking me, animal? Keep your venomous tongue in bounds, or +I'll have you deprived of it." + +Peppe's face turned grey at the threat, as well it might--for what +should such a one as he do in the world without a tongue? + +Seeing him dumb and stricken, the Duke continued: + +"Now, for all that you deserve a hanging for your insolence, I am +willing that you should come by no hurt so that you answer truthfully +such questions as I have for you." + +Peppino's grotesque figure was doubled in a bow. + +"I await your questions, glorious lord," he answered. + +"You spoke----" the Duke hesitated a moment, writhing inwardly at the +memory of the exact words in which the fool had spoken. "You spoke this +morning of one whom the Lady Valentina had met." + +The fear seemed to increase on the jester's face. "Yes," he answered, in +a choking voice. + +"Where did she meet this knight you spoke of, and in such wondrous words +of praise described to me?" + +"In the woods at Acquasparta, where the river Metauro is no better than +a brook. Some two leagues this side of Sant' Angelo." + +"Sant' Angelo!" echoed Gian Maria, starting at the very mention of the +place where the late conspiracy against him had been hatched. "And when +was this?" + +"On the Wednesday before Easter, as Monna Valentina was journeying from +Santa Sofia to Urbino." + +No word spake the Duke in answer. He stood still, his head bowed, and +his thoughts running again on that conspiracy. The mountain fight in +which Masuccio had been killed had taken place on the Tuesday night, and +the conviction--scant though the evidence might be--grew upon him that +this man was one of the conspirators who had escaped. + +"How came your lady to speak with this man--was he known to her?" he +inquired at last. + +"No, Highness; but he was wounded, and so aroused her compassion. She +sought to minister to his hurt." + +"Wounded?" cried Gian Maria, in a shout. "Now, by God, it is as I +suspected. I'll swear he got that wound the night before at Sant' +Angelo. What was his name, fool? Tell me that, and you shall go free." + +For just a second the hunchback seemed to hesitate. He stood in awesome +fear of Gian Maria, of whose cruelties some ghastly tales were told. But +in greater fear he stood of the eternal damnation he might earn did he +break the oath he had plighted not to divulge that knight's identity. + +"Alas!" he sighed, "I would it might be mine to earn my freedom at so +light a price; yet it is one that ignorance will not let me pay. I do +not know his name." + +The Duke looked at him searchingly and suspiciously. + +Dull though he was by nature, eagerness seemed now to have set a cunning +edge upon his wits, and suspicion had led him to observe the fool's +momentary hesitation. + +"Of what appearance was he? Describe him to me. How was he dressed? What +was the manner of his face?" + +"Again, Lord Duke, I cannot answer you. I had but the most fleeting +glimpse of him." + +The Duke's sallow countenance grew very evil-looking, and an ugly smile +twisted his lip and laid bare his strong white teeth. + +"So fleeting that no memory of him is left you?" quoth he. + +"Precisely, Highness." + +"You lie, you filth," Gian Maria thundered in a towering rage. "It was +but this morning that you said his height was splendid, his countenance +noble, his manner princely, his speech courtly, and--I know not what +besides. Yet now you tell me--you tell me--that your glimpse of him was +so fleeting that you cannot describe him. You know his name, rogue, and +I will have it from you, or else----" + +"Indeed, indeed, most noble lord, be not incensed----" the fool began, +in fearful protestation. But the Duke interrupted him. + +"Incensed?" he echoed, his eyes dilating in a sort of horror at the +notion. "Do you dare impute to me the mortal sin of choler? I am +not incensed; there is no anger in me." He crossed himself, as if to +exorcise the evil mood if it indeed existed, and devotedly bowing his +head and folding his hands--"Libera me a malo, Domine!" he murmured +audibly. Then, with a greater fierceness than before--"Now," he +demanded, "will you tell me his name?" + +"I would I could," the terrified hunchback began. But at that the Duke +turned from him with a shrug of angry impatience, and clapping his hands +together: + +"Ola! Martino!" he called. Instantly the door opened, and the Swiss +appeared. "Bring in your men and your rope." + +The captain turned on his heel, and simultaneously the fool cast himself +at Gian Maria's feet. + +"Mercy, your Highness!" he wailed. "Do not have me hanged. I am----" + +"We are not going to hang you," the Duke broke in coldly. "Dead you +would indeed be dumb, and avail us nothing. We want you alive, Messer +Peppino--alive and talkative; we find you very reserved for a fool. But +we hope to make you speak." + +On his knees, Peppe raised his wild eyes to Heaven. + +"Mother of the Afflicted," he prayed, at which the Duke broke into a +contemptuous laugh. + +"What has the Heavenly Mother to do with such filth as you? Make your +appeals to me. I am the more immediate arbiter of your fate. Tell me +the name of that man you met in the woods, and all may yet be well with +you." + +Peppino knelt in silence, a cold sweat gathering on his pale brow, and a +horrid fear tightening at his heart and throat. + +And yet greater than this horror they were preparing for him was the +horror of losing his immortal soul by a breach of the solemn oath he +had sworn. Gian Maria turned from him, at last, to his bravi, who now +entered silently and with the air of men who knew the work expected +of them. Martino mounted the bed, and swung for an instant from the +framework of the canopy. + +"It will hold, Highness," he announced. + +Gian Maria bade him, since that was so, remove the velvet hangings, +whilst he despatched one of the men to see that the ante-chamber door +was closed, so that no cry should penetrate to the apartments of the +Valdicampo household. + +In a few seconds all was ready, and Peppino was rudely lifted from his +knees and from the prayers he had been pattering to the Virgin to lend +him strength in this hour of need. + +"For the last time, sir fool," quoth the Duke, "will you tell us his +name?" + +"Highness, I cannot," answered Peppe, for all that terror was freezing +his very blood. + +A light of satisfaction gleamed now in Gian Maria's eyes. + +"So you know it!" he exclaimed. "You no longer protest your ignorance, +but only that you cannot tell me. Up with him, Martino." + +In a last pitiable struggle against the inevitable, the fool broke from +his guards, and flung himself towards the door. One of the burly Swiss +caught him by the neck in a grip that made him cry out with pain. Gian +Maria eyed him with a sinister smile, and Martin proceeded to fasten one +end of the rope to his pinioned wrists. Then they led him, shivering +to the great bed. The other end of the cord was passed over one of +the bared arms of the canopy-frame. This end was grasped by the two +men-at-arms. Martin stood beside the prisoner. The Duke flung himself +into a great carved chair, an air of relish now investing his round, +pale face. + +"You know what is about to befall you," he said, in tones of chilling +indifference. "Will you speak before we begin?" + +"My lord," said the fool, in a voice that terror was throttling, "you +are a good Christian, a loyal son of Mother Church, and a believer in +the eternal fires of hell?" + +A frown settled on Gian Maria's brow. Was the fool about to intimidate +him with talk of supernatural vengeance? + +"Thus," Peppe continued, "you will perhaps be merciful when I confess +my position. I made most solemn oath to the man I met at Acquasparta on +that luckless day, that I would never reveal his identity. What am I to +do? If I keep my oath, you will torture me to death perhaps. If I break +it, I shall be damned eternally. Have mercy, noble lord, since now you +know how I am placed." + +The smile broadened on Gian Maria's face, and the cruelty of his mouth +and eyes seemed intensified by it. The fool had told him that which he +would have given much to learn. He had told him that this man whose +name he sought, had so feared that his presence that day at Acquasparta +should become known, that he had bound the fool by oath not to divulge +the secret of it. Of what he had before suspected he was now assured. +The man in question was one of the conspirators; probably the very +chief of them. Nothing short of the fool's death under torture would now +restrain him from learning the name of that unknown who had done him +the double injury of conspiring against him, and--if the fool were to be +believed--of capturing the heart of Valentina. + +"For the damnation of your soul I shall not be called to answer," he +said at last. "Care enough have I to save my own--for temptations are +many and this poor flesh is weak. But it is this man's name I need, +and--by the five wounds of Lucia of Viterbo!--I will have it. Will you +speak?" + +Something like a sob shook the poor fool's deformed frame. But that was +all. With bowed head he preserved a stubborn silence. The Duke made a +sign to the men, and instantly the two of them threw their weight upon +the rope, hoisting Peppe by his wrists until he was at the height of the +canopy itself. That done, they paused, and turned their eyes upon the +Duke for further orders. Again Gian Maria called upon the fool to answer +his questions; but Peppe, a writhing, misshapen mass from which two +wriggling legs depended, maintained a stubborn silence. + +"Let him go," snarled Gian Maria, out of patience. The men released the +rope, and allowed some three feet of it to run through their hands. +Then they grasped it again, so that Peppe's sudden fall was as suddenly +arrested by a jerk that almost wrenched his arms from their sockets. A +shriek broke from him at that exquisite torture, and he was dragged once +more to the full height of the canopy. + +"Will you speak now?" asked Gian Maria coldly, amusedly almost. But +still the fool was silent, his nether lip caught so tightly in his teeth +that the blood trickled from it adown his chin. Again the Duke gave the +signal, and again they let him go. This time they allowed him a longer +drop, so that the wrench with which they arrested it was more severe +than had been the first. + +Peppe felt his bones starting from their joints, and it was as if a +burning iron were searing him at shoulder, elbow and wrist. + +"Merciful God!" he screamed. "Oh, have pity, noble lord." + +But the noble lord had him hoisted anew to the canopy. Writhing there +in the extremity of his anguish, the poor hunchback poured forth from +frothing lips a stream of curses and imprecations, invoking Heaven and +hell to strike his tormentors dead. + +But the Duke, from whose demeanour it might be inferred that he was +inured to the effect produced by this form of torture, looked on with +a cruel smile, as of one who watches the progress of events towards the +end that he desires and has planned. He was less patient, and his signal +came more quickly now. For a third time the fool was dropped, and drawn +up, now, a short three feet from the ground. + +This time he did not so much as scream. He hung there, dangling at the +rope's end, his mouth all bloody, his face ghastly in its glistening +pallor, and of his eyes naught showing save the whites. He hung there, +and moaned piteously and incessantly. Martin glanced questioningly at +Gian Maria, and his eyes very plainly inquired whether they had not +better cease. But Gian Maria paid no heed to him. + +"Will that suffice you?" he asked the fool. "Will you speak now?" + +But the fool's only answer was a moan, whereupon again, at the Duke's +relentless signal, he was swung aloft. But at the terror of a fourth +drop, more fearful than any of its three predecessors, he awoke very +suddenly to the impossible horror of his position. That this agony would +endure until he died or fainted, he was assured. And since he seemed +incapable of either fainting or dying, suffer more he could not. What +was heaven or hell to him then that the thought of either could efface +the horror of this torture and strengthen him to continue to endure the +agony of it? He could endure no more--no, not to save a dozen souls if +he had had them: + +"I'll speak," he screamed. "Let me down, and you shall have his name, +Lord Duke." + +"Pronounce it first, or the manner of your descent shall be as the +others." + +Peppe passed his tongue over his bleeding lips, hung still and spoke. + +"It was your cousin," he panted, "Francesco del Falco, Count of Aquila." + +The Duke stared at him a moment, with startled countenance and mouth +agape. + +"You are telling me the truth, animal?" he demanded, in a quivering +voice. "It was the Count of Aquila who was wounded and whom Monna +Valentina tended?" + +"I swear it," answered the fool. "Now, in the name of God and His +blessed saints, let me down." + +For a moment yet he was held there, awaiting Gian Maria's signal. The +Duke continued to eye him with that same astonished look, what time he +turned over in his mind the news he had gathered. Then conviction of the +truth sank into his mind. It was the Lord of Aquila who was the idol +of the Babbianians. What, then, more natural than that the conspirators +should have sought to place him on the throne they proposed to wrest +from Gian Maria? He dubbed himself a fool that he had not guessed so +much before. + +"Let him down," he curtly bade his men. "Then take him hence, and let +him go with God. He has served his purpose." + +Gently they lowered him, but when his feet touched the ground he was +unable to stand. His legs doubled under him, and he lay--a little +crook-backed heap--upon the rushes of the floor. His senses had deserted +him. + +At a sign from Armstadt the two men picked him up and carried him out +between them. + +Gian Maria moved across the room to a tapestried prie-dieu, and knelt +down before an ivory crucifix to render thanks to God for the signal +light of grace, by which He had vouchsafed to show the Duke his enemy. + +Thereafter, drawing from the breast of his doublet a chaplet of gold and +amber beads, he piously discharged his nightly devotions. + + + + +CHAPTER X. THE BRAYING OF AN ASS + + +When on the morrow, towards the twenty-second hour, the High and Mighty +Gian Maria Sforza rode into his capital at Babbiano, he found the city +in violent turmoil, occasioned, as he rightly guessed, by the ominous +presence of Caesar Borgia's envoy. + +A dense and sullen crowd met him at the Porta Romana, and preserved a +profound silence as he rode into the city, accompanied by Alvari and +Santi, and surrounded by his escort of twenty spears in full armour. +There was a threat in that silence more ominous than any vociferations, +and very white was the Duke's face as he darted scowls of impotent anger +this way and that. But there was worse to come. As they rode up the +Borgo dell' Annunziata the crowd thickened, and the silence was now +replaced by a storm of hooting and angry cries. The people became +menacing, and by Armstadt's orders--the Duke was by now too paralysed +with fear to issue any--the men-at-arms lowered their pikes in order to +open a way, whilst one or two of the populace, who were thrust too near +the cavalcade by the surging human tide, went down and were trampled +under foot. + +Satirical voices asked the Duke derisively was he wed, and where might +be his uncle-in-law's spears that were to protect them against the +Borgia. Some demanded to know whither the last outrageous levy of taxes +was gone, and where was the army it should have served to raise. To +this, others replied for the Duke, suggesting a score of vile uses to +which the money had been put. + +Then, of a sudden, a cry of "Murderer!" arose, followed by angry demands +that he should restore life to the valiant Ferrabraccio, to Amerini, the +people's friend, and to those others whom he had lately butchered, or +else follow them in death. Lastly the name of the Count of Aquila rang +wildly in his ears, provoking a storm of "Evviva! Live Francesco del +Falco!" and one persistent voice, sounding loudly above the others, +styled him already "il Duca Francesco." At that the blood mounted to +Gian Maria's brain, and a wave of anger beat back the fear from his +heart. He rose in his stirrups, his eyes ablaze with the jealous wrath +that possessed him. + +"Ser Martino!" he roared hoarsely to his captain. "Couch lances and go +through them at the gallop!" + +The burly Swiss hesitated, brave man though he was. Alvaro de' Alvari +and Gismondo Santi looked at each other in alarm, and the intrepid +old statesman, in whose heart no pang of fear had been awakened by the +rabble's threatening bay, changed colour as he heard that order given. + +"Highness," he implored the Duke, "You cannot mean this." + +"Not mean it?" flashed back Gian Maria, his eye travelling from Santi to +the hesitating captain. "Fool!" he blazed at the latter. "Brute beast, +for what do you wait? Did you not hear me?" + +Without a second's delay the captain now raised his sword, and his deep, +guttural voice barked an order to his men which brought their lances +below the horizontal. The mob, too, had heard that fierce command, and +awakening to their peril, those nearest the cavalcade would have fallen +back but that the others, pressing tightly from behind, held them in the +death-tide that now swept by with clattering arms and hoarse cries. + +Shrieks filled the air where lately threats had been loudly tossed. But +some there were in that crowd that would be no passive witnesses of this +butchery. Half the stones of the borgo went after that cavalcade, and +fell in a persistent shower upon them, rattling like giant hail upon +their armour, dinting many a steel-cap to its wearer's sore discomfort. +The Duke himself was struck twice, and on Santi's unprotected scalp an +ugly wound was opened from which the blood flowed in profusion to dye +his snowy locks. + +In this undignified manner they reached, at last, the Palazzo Ducale, +leaving a trail of dead and maimed to mark the way by which they had +come. + +In a white heat of passion Gian Maria sought his apartments, and came +not forth again until, some two hours later, the presence was announced +him of the emissary from Caesar Borgia, Duke of Valentinois, who sought +an audience. + +Still beside himself, and boiling with wrath at the indignities he +had received, Gian Maria--in no mood for an interview that would +have demanded coolness and presence of mind from a keener brain than +his--received the envoy, a gloomy, priestly-faced Spaniard, in the +throne-room of the Palace. The Duke was attended by Alvari, Santi, and +Fabrizio da Lodi, whilst his mother, Caterina Colonna, occupied a chair +of crimson velvet on which the Sforza lion was wrought in gold. + +The interview was brief, and marked by a rudeness at its close that +contrasted sharply with the ceremoniousness of its inception. It soon +became clear that the ambassador's true mission was to pick a quarrel +with Babbiano on his master's behalf, to the end that the Borgia might +be afforded a sound pretext for invading the Duchy. He demanded, +at first politely and calmly, and later--when denied--with arrogant +insistance, that Gian Maria should provide the Duke of Valentinois with +a hundred lances--equivalent to five hundred men--as some contribution +on his part towards the stand which Caesar Borgia meant to make against +the impending French invasion. + +Gian Maria never heeded the restraining words which Lodi whispered in +his ear, urging him to temporise, and to put off this messenger until +the alliance with the house of Urbino should be complete and their +position strengthened sufficiently to permit them to brave the anger of +Caesar Borgia. But neither this nor the wrathful, meaning glances which +his cunning mother bent upon him served to curb him. He obeyed only the +voice of his headstrong mood, never dreaming of the consequences with +which he might be visited. + +"You will bear to the Duca Valentino this message from me," he said, +in conclusion. "You will tell him that what lances I have in Babbiano I +intend to keep, that with them I may defend my own frontiers against his +briganding advances. Messer da Lodi," he added, turning to Fabrizio and +without so much as waiting to see if the envoy had anything further to +say, "let this gentleman be reconducted to his quarters, and see that he +has safe conduct hence until he is out of our Duchy." + +When the envoy, crimson of face and threatening of eye, had withdrawn +under Lodi's escort, Monna Caterina rose, the very incarnation of +outraged patience, and poured her bitter invective upon her rash son's +head. + +"Fool!" she stormed at him. "There goes your Duchy--in the hollow of +that man's hand." Then she laughed in bitterness. "After all, in casting +it from you, perhaps you have chosen the wiser course, for, as truly as +there is a God in Heaven, you are utterly unfitted to retain it." + +"My lady mother," he answered her, with such dignity as he could muster +from the wretched heap in which his wits now seemed to lie, "you will +be well advised to devote yourself to your woman's tasks, and not to +interfere in a man's work." + +"Man's work!" she sneered. "And you perform it like a petulant boy or a +peevish woman." + +"I perform it, Madonna, as best seems to me, for it happens that I am +Duke of Babbiano," he answered sullenly. "I do not fear any Pope's son +that ever stepped. The alliance with Urbino is all but completed. Let +that be established, and if Valentino shows his teeth--by God we'll show +ours." + +"Aye, but with this difference, that his are a wolf's teeth, and yours a +lamb's. Besides, this alliance with Urbino is all incomplete as yet. You +had been better advised to have sent away the envoy with some indefinite +promise that would have afforded you respite enough in which to seal +matters with the house of Montefeltro. As it is, your days are numbered. +Upon that message you have sent him Caesar will act at once. For my own +part, I have no mind to fall a prey to the invader, and I shall leave +Babbiano, and seek refuge in Naples. And if a last word of advice I may +offer you, it is that you do the same." + +Gian Maria rose and came down from the dais, eyeing her in a sort of +dull amazement. Then he looked, as if for help, to Alvari, to Santi, +and lastly to Lodi, who had returned while Caterina was speaking. But no +word said any of them, and grave were the eyes of all. + +"Poor-spirited are you all!" he sneered. Then his face grew dark and his +tone concentrated. "Not so am I," he assured them, "if in the past I may +have seemed it sometimes. I am aroused at length, sirs. I heard a voice +in the streets of Babbiano to-day, and I saw a sight that has put a +fire into my veins. This good-tempered, soft, indulgent Duke you knew +is gone. The lion is awake at last, and you shall see such things as you +had not dreamt of." + +They regarded him now with eyes in which the gravity was increased by a +light of fearsome wonder and inquiry. Was his mind giving way under the +prodigious strain that had been set upon it that day? If not madness, +what else did that wild boasting argue? + +"Are you all dumb?" he asked them, his eyes feverish. "Or do you deem +that I promise more than is mine to fulfil. You shall judge, and soon. +To-morrow, my lady mother, whilst you journey south, as you have told +us, I go north again, back to Urbino. Not a day will I now waste. Within +the week, sirs, by God's grace, I shall be wed. That will give us Urbino +for a buckler, and with Urbino comes Perugia and Camerino. But more than +that. There is a princely dowry comes to us with the Lady Valentina. How +think you will I spend it? To the last florin it shall go to the arming +of men. I will hire me every free condotta in Italy. I will raise me +such an army as has never before been seen at any one time, and with +this I shall seek out the Duca Valentino. I'll not sit here at home +awaiting the pleasure of his coming, but I'll out to meet him, and with +that army I shall descend upon him as a thunderbolt out of Heaven. Aye, +my lady mother," he laughed in his madness, "the lamb shall hunt the +wolf, and rend it so that it shall never stand again to prey on other +lambs. This will I do, my friends, and there shall be such fighting as +has not been seen since the long-dead days of Castracani." + +They stared at him, scarce believing now that he was sane, and +marvelling deeply whence had sprung this sudden martial fervour in one +whose nature was more indolent than active, more timid than warlike. +And yet the reason was not far to seek, had they but cared to follow the +line of thought to which he, himself, had given them the clue when he +referred to the voice he had heard, and the sights he had seen in the +streets of Babbiano. The voice was the voice that had acclaimed his +cousin Francesco Duke. That it was through that a fierce jealousy had +fired him. This man had robbed him at once of the love of his people +and of Valentina, and thereby had set in his heart the burning desire +to outdo him and to prove wrong in their preference both his people and +Valentina. He was like a gamer who risks all on a single throw, and his +stake was to be the dowry of his bride, the game a tilt with the forces +of the Borgia. If he won he came out covered with glory, and not only +the saviour of his people and the champion of their liberty, but a +glorious figure that all Italy--or, at least, that part of it that +had known the iron heel of Valentino--should revere. Thus would he +set himself right, and thus crush from their minds the memory of his +rebellious cousin with whom he was about to deal. + +His mother turned to him now, and her words were words of caution, +prayers that he should adventure on naught so vast and appalling to her +woman's mind, without due thought and argument in council. A servant +entered at that moment, and approached the Duke. + +"Madonna," Gian Maria announced, breaking in upon her earnest words, +"I am fully resolved upon my course. If you will but delay a moment and +resume your seat, you shall witness the first scene of this great +drama that I am preparing." Then turning to the waiting servant: "Your +message?" he demanded. + +"Captain Armstadt has returned, Highness, and has brought his +Excellency." + +"Fetch lights and then admit them," he commanded briefly. "To your +places, sirs, and you, my mother. I am about to sit in judgment." + +Amazed and uncomprehending, they obeyed his wild gestures, and resumed +their places by the throne even as he walked back to the dais and sat +himself upon the ducal chair. Servants entered, bearing great candelabra +of beaten gold which they set on table and overmantel. They withdrew, +and when the doors opened again, a clank of mail, reaching them from +without, increased the astonishment of the company. + +This rose yet higher, and left them cold and speechless, when into the +chamber stepped the Count of Aquila with a man-at-arms on either side +of him, marking him a prisoner. With a swift, comprehensive glance that +took in the entire group about the throne--and without manifesting the +slightest surprise at Lodi's presence--Francesco stood still and awaited +his cousin's words. + +He was elegantly dressed, but without lavishness, and if he had the air +of a great lord, it was rather derived from the distinction of his face +and carriage. He was without arms, and bareheaded save for the gold coif +he always wore, which seemed to accentuate the lustrous blackness of +his hair. His face was impassive, and the glance as that of a man rather +weary of the entertainment provided him. + +There was an oppressive silence of some moments, during which his cousin +regarded him with an eye that glittered oddly. At last Gian Maria broke +into speech, his voice shrill with excitement. + +"Know you of any reason," he demanded, "why your head should not be +flaunted on a spear among those others on the Gate of San Bacolo?" + +Francesco's eyebrows shot up in justifiable astonishment. + +"I know of many," he answered, with a smile, an answer which by its +simplicity seemed to nonplus the Duke. + +"Let us hear some of them," he challenged presently. + +"Nay, let us hear, rather, some reason why my poor head should be so +harshly dealt with. When a man is rudely taken, as I have been, it is +a custom, which perhaps your Highness will follow, to afford him some +reason for the outrage." + +"You smooth-tongued traitor," quoth the Duke, with infinite malice, made +angrier by his cousin's dignity. "You choicely-spoken villain! You would +learn why you have been taken? Tell me, sir, what did you at Acquasparta +on the morning of the Wednesday before Easter?" + +The Count's impassive face remained inscrutable, a mask of patient +wonder. By the sudden clenching of his hands alone did he betray how +that thrust had smitten him, and his hands none there remarked. Fabrizio +da Lodi, standing behind the Duke, went pale to the lips. + +"I do not recall that I did anything there of much account," he +answered. "I breathed the good spring air in the woods." + +"And nothing else?" sneered Gian Maria. + +"I can bethink me of little else that signifies. I met a lady there with +whom I had some talk, a friar, a fool, a popinjay, and some soldiers. +But,"--he shifted abruptly, his tone growing haughty--"whatever I did, +I did as best seemed to me, and I have yet to learn that the Count of +Aquila must give account of what he does and where he does it. You +have not told me yet, sir, by what right, or fancied right, you hold me +prisoner." + +"Have I not, indeed? See you no link between your offence and your +presence near Sant' Angelo on that day?" + +"If I am to apprehend that you have had me brought here with this +indignity to set me riddles for your amusement, I am enlightened and yet +amazed. I am no court buffoon." + +"Words, words," snapped the Duke. "Do not think to beguile me with +them." With a short laugh he turned from Francesco to those upon the +dais. "You will be marvelling, sirs, and you, my lady mother, upon what +grounds I have had this traitor seized. You shall learn. On the night of +the Tuesday before Easter seven traitors met at Sant' Angelo to plot +my overthrow. Of those, the heads of four may be seen on the walls +of Babbiano now; the other three made off, but there stands one of +them--the one that was to have occupied this throne after they had +unseated me." + +The eyes of all were now upon the young Count, whilst his own glance +strayed to the face of Lodi, on which there was written a consternation +so great that it must have betrayed him had the Duke but chanced to look +his way. A pause ensued which none present dared to break. Gian +Maria seemed to await an answer from Francesco; but Francesco stood +impassively regarding him, and made no sign that he would speak. At +length, unable longer to endure the silence: + +"E dunque?" cried the Duke. "Have you no answer?" + +"I would submit," returned Francesco, "that I have heard no question. +I heard a wild statement, extravagant and mad, the accusation of one +demented, a charge of which no proofs can be forthcoming, else I take +it you had not withheld them. I ask you, sirs, and you, Madonna," he +continued, turning to the others, "has his Highness said anything to +which an answer can by any means be necessary?" + +"Is it proofs you lack?" cried Gian Maria, but less confidently than +hitherto, and, so, less fiercely. A doubt had arisen in his mind born of +this strange calm on the part of Francesco--a calm that to Gian Maria's +perceptions seemed hardly the garb of guilt, but belonged rather to one +who is assured that no peril threatens him. "Is it proofs you lack?" +quoth the Duke again, and then with the air of a man launching an +unanswerable question: "How came you by the wound you had that day in +the woods?" + +A smile quivered on Francesco's face, and was gone. + +"I asked for proofs, not questions," he protested wearily. "What shall +it prove if I had a hundred wounds?" + +"Prove?" echoed the Duke, less and less confident of his ground, fearing +already that he had perhaps gone too fast and too far upon the road of +his suspicions. "It proves to me, when coupled with your presence there, +that you were in the fight the night before." + +Francesco stirred at that. He sighed and smiled at once. Then assuming a +tone of brisk command: + +"Bid these men begone," he said, pointing to his guards. "Then hear me +scatter your foul suspicions as the hurricane scatters the leaves in +autumn." + +Gian Maria stared at him in stupefaction. That overwhelming assurance, +that lofty, dignified bearing which made such a noble contrast with +his own coarse hectoring, were gradually undermining more and more +his confidence. With a wave of his hand he motioned the soldiers to +withdraw, obeying almost unconsciously the master-mind of his cousin by +which he was as unconsciously being swayed. + +"Now, Highness," said Francesco, as soon as the men were gone, "before +I refute the charge you make, let me clearly understand it. From the +expressions you have used I gather it to be this: A conspiracy was laid +a little time ago at Sant' Angelo which had for object to supplant you +on the throne of Babbiano and set me in your place. You charge me with +having had in that conspiracy a part--the part assigned to me. It is so, +is it not?" + +Gian Maria nodded. + +"You have put it very clearly," he sneered. "If you can make out your +innocence as clearly, I shall be satisfied that I have wronged you." + +"That this conspiracy took place we will accept as proven, although to +the people of Babbiano the proof may have seemed scant. A man, since +dead, had told your Highness that such a plot was being hatched. Hardly, +perhaps, in itself, evidence enough to warrant setting the heads of four +very valiant gentlemen on spears, but no doubt your Highness had other +proofs to which the rest of us had no access." + +Gian Maria shivered at the words. He recalled what Francesco had said +on the occasion of their last talk upon this very subject; he remembered +the manner of his own reception that day in Babbiano. + +"We must be content that it is so," calmly pursued Francesco. "Indeed, +your Highness's action in the matter leaves no doubt. We will accept, +then, that such a plot was laid, but that I had a part in it, that I was +the man chosen to take your place--need I prove the idleness of such a +charge?" + +"You need, in truth. By God! you need, if you would save your head." + +The Count stood in an easy posture, his hands clasped behind his back, +and smiled up at his cousin's pale face and scowling brow. + +"How mysterious are the ways of your justice, Cousin," he murmured, with +infinite relish; "what a wondrous equity invests your methods! You have +me dragged here by force, and sitting there, you say to me: 'Prove that +you have not conspired against me, or the headsman shall have you!' By +my faith! Soloman was a foolish prattler when compared with you." + +Gian Maria smote the gilded arm of his chair a blow for which he was to +find his hand blackened on the morrow. + +"Prove it!" he screamed, like a child in a pet. "Prove it, prove it, +prove it!" + +"And have my words not already proven it?" quoth the Count, in a voice +of such mild wonder and gentle protest that it left Gian Maria gasping. + +Then the Duke made a hasty gesture of impatience. + +"Messer Alvari," he said, in a voice of concentrated rage, "I think you +had best recall the guard." + +"Wait!" the Count compelled him, raising his hand. And now it was +seen that the easy insouciance was gone from his face: the smile had +vanished, and in its place there was a look of lofty and contemptuous +wrath. "I will repeat my words. You have dragged me here before you by +force, and, sitting there on the throne of Babbiano, you say: 'Prove +that you have not conspired against me if you would save your head.'" +A second he paused, and noted the puzzled look with which all regarded +him. + +"Is this a parable?" sneered the uncomprehending Duke. + +"You have said it," flashed back Francesco. "A parable it is. And if you +consider it, does it not afford you proof enough?" he asked, a note of +triumph in his voice. "Do not our relative positions irrefutably show +the baselessness of this your charge? Should I stand here and you +sit there if what you allege against me were true?" He laughed almost +savagely, and his eyes flashed scornfully upon the Duke. "If more +plainly still you need it, Gian Maria, I tell you that had I plotted to +occupy your tottering throne, I should be on it now, not standing here +defending myself against a foolish charge. But can you doubt it? Did you +learn no lesson as you rode into Babbiano to-day? Did you not hear them +acclaim me and groan at you. And yet," he ended, with a lofty pity, +"you tell me that I plotted. Why, if I desired your throne, my only need +would be to unfurl my banner in the streets of your capital, and within +the hour Gian Maria would be Duke no more. Have I proved my innocence, +Highness?" he ended quietly, sadly almost. "Are you convinced how little +is my need for plots?" + +But the Duke had no answer for him. Speechless, and in a sort of dazed +horror, he sat and scowled before him at his cousin's handsome face, +what time the others watched him furtively, in silence, trembling for +the young man who, here, in his grasp, had dared say such things to him. +Presently he covered his face with his hands, and sat so, as one +deeply in thought, a little while. At last he withdrew them slowly and +presented a countenance that passion and chagrin had strangely ravaged +in so little time. He turned to Santi, who stood nearest. + +"The guard," he said hoarsely, with a wave of the hand, and Santi went, +none daring to utter a word. They waited thus an odd group, all very +grave save one, and he the one that had most cause for gravity. Then the +captain re-entered, followed by his two men, and Gian Maria waved a hand +towards the prisoner. + +"Take him away," he muttered harshly, his face ghastly, and passion +shaking him like an aspen. "Take him away, and await my orders in the +ante-chamber." + +"If it is farewell, Cousin," said Francesco, "may I hope that you will +send a priest to me? I have lived a faithful Christian." + +Gian Maria returned him no answer, but his baleful eye was upon Martino. +Reading the significance of that glance, the captain touched Francesco +lightly on the arm. A moment the Count stood, looking from the Duke to +the soldiers; a second his glance rested on those assembled there; then, +with a light raising of his shoulders, he turned on his heel, and with +his head high passed out of the ducal chamber. + +And silence continued after he was gone until Caterina Colonna broke it +with a laugh that grated on Gian Maria's now very tender nerves. + +"You promised bravely," she mocked him, "to play the lion. But so far, +we have only heard the braying of an ass." + + + + +CHAPTER XI. WANDERING KNIGHTS + + +That taunt of his mother's stirred Gian Maria. He rose from his ducal +chair and descended from the dais on which it stood, possessed by a +tempestuous mood that would not brook him to sit still. + +"The braying of an ass?" he muttered, facing Caterina. Then he laughed +unpleasantly. "The jaw-bone of an ass did sore execution on one +occasion, Madonna, and it may again. A little patience, and you shall +see." Next, and with a brisker air, he addressed the four silent +courtiers, "You heard him, sirs," he exclaimed, "How do you say that I +shall deal with such a traitor?" He waited some seconds for an answer, +and it seemed to anger him that none came. "Have you, then, no counsel +for me?" he demanded harshly. + +"I had not thought," said Lodi hardily, "that this was a case in which +your Highness needed counsel. You were drawn to conclude that the Lord +of Aquila was a traitor, but from what we have all heard, your Highness +should now see that he is not." + +"Should I so?" the Duke returned, standing still and fixing upon +Fabrizio an eye that was dull as a snake's. "Messer da Lodi, your +loyalty is a thing that has given signs of wavering of late. Now, if +by the grace of God and His blessed saints I have ruled as a merciful +prince who errs too much upon the side of clemency, I would enjoin you +not to try that clemency too far. I am but a man, after all." + +He turned from the fearless front presented by the old statesman, to +face the troubled glances of the others. + +"Your silence, sirs, tells me that in this matter your judgement runs +parallel with mine. And you are wise, for in such a case there can be +but one course. My cousin has uttered words to-day which no man has ever +said to a prince and lived. Nor shall we make exception to that rule. My +Lord of Aquila's head must pay the price of his temerity." + +"My son," cried Caterina, in a voice of horror. Gian Maria faced her in +a passion, his countenance grown mottled. + +"I have said it," he growled. "I will not sleep until he dies." + +"Yet never may you wake again," she answered. And with that preamble +she launched upon his head the bitterest criticism he had ever heard. By +stinging epithets and contemptuous words, she sought to make him see the +folly of what he meditated. Was he indeed tired of ruling Babbiano? +If that were so, she told him, he had but to wait for Caesar Borgia's +coming. He need not precipitate matters by a deed that must lead to a +revolt, a rising of the people to avenge their idol. + +"You have given me but added reasons," he answered her stoutly. "There +is no room in my Duchy for a man whose death, if it pleased me to +encompass it, would be avenged upon me by my own people." + +"Then send him from your dominions," she urged. "Banish him, and all may +be well. But if you slay him, I should not count your life worth a day's +purchase." + +This advice was sound, and in the end they prevailed upon him to adopt +it. But it was not done save at the cost of endless prayers on the part +of those courtiers, and the persuasions of Caterina's biting scorn and +prophecies of the fate that surely awaited him did he touch the life of +one so well-beloved. At last, against his will, he sullenly consented +that the banishment of his cousin should content him. But it was with +infinite bitterness and regret that he passed his word, for his jealousy +was of a quality that nothing short of Francesco's death could have +appeased. Certain it is that nothing but the fear of the consequences, +which his mother had instilled into his heart, could have swayed him to +be satisfied that the Count of Aquila should be banished. + +He sent for Martino and bade him return the Count his sword, and he +entrusted the message of exile to Fabrizio da Lodi, charging him to +apprise Francesco that he was allowed twenty-four hours' grace in which +to take himself beyond the dominions of Gian Maria Sforza. + +That done--and with an exceedingly ill grace--the Duke turned on his +heel, and with a sullen brow he left the ducal chamber, and passed, +unattended, to his own apartments. + +Rejoicing, Fabrizio da Lodi went his errand, which he discharged with +certain additions that might have cost him his head had knowledge of +them come to Gian Maria. In fact, he seized the opportunity to again +press upon Francesco the throne of Babbiano. + +"The hour is very ripe," he urged the Count, "and the people love you +as surely prince was never loved. It is in their interests that I plead. +You are their only hope. Will you not come to them?" + +If for a moment Francesco hesitated, it was rather in consideration of +the manner in which the crown was offered than in consequence of any +allurement that the offer may have had for him. Once--that night at +Sant' Angelo--he had known temptation, and for a moment had listened to +the seductions in the voice that invited him to power. But not so now. +A thought he gave to the people who had such faith in him, and showered +upon him such admiring love, and whom, as a matter of reciprocity, he +wished well, and would have served in any capacity but this. He shook +his head, and with a smile of regret declined the offer. + +"Have patience, old friend," he added. "I am not of the stuff that goes +to make good princes, although you think it. It is a bondage into which +I would not sell myself. A man's life for me, Fabrizio--a free life that +is not directed by councillors and at the mercy of the rabble." + +Fabrizio's face grew sad. He sighed profoundly, yet since it might not +be well for him that he should remain over-long in talk with one who, +in the Duke's eyes, was attainted with treason, he had not leisure to +insist with persuasions, which, after all, he clearly saw must in the +end prove barren. + +"What was the salvation of the people of Babbiano," he murmured, "was +also your Excellency's, since did you adopt the course I urge there +would be no need to go in banishment." + +"Why, this exile suits me excellently well," returned Francesco. "Idle +have I been over-long, and the wish to roam is in my veins again. I'll +see the world once more, and when I weary of my vagrancy I can withdraw +to my lands of Aquila, and in that corner of Tuscany, too mean to draw +a conqueror's eye, none will molest me, and I shall rest. Babbiano, my +friend, shall know me no more after to-night. When I am gone, and the +people realise that they may not have what they would, they may +rest content perhaps with what they may." And he waved a hand in the +direction of the doors leading to the ducal chamber. With that he took +his leave of his old friend, and, carrying in his hand the sword and +dagger which Captain Armstadt had returned to him, he repaired briskly +to the northern wing of the Palace, in which he had his lodging. + +In the ante-room he dismissed those of his servants who had been taken +from the ranks of the Duke's people, and bade his own Tuscan followers, +Zaccaria and Lanciotto, see to the packing of his effects, and make all +ready to set out within the hour. + +He was no coward, but he had no wish to die just yet if it might be +honourably avoided. Life had some sweets to offer Francesco del +Falco, and this spurred him to hasten, for he well knew his cousin's +unscrupulous ways. He was aware that Gian Maria had been forced by +weight of argument to let him go, and he shrewdly feared that did he +linger, his cousin might veer round again, and without pausing to seek +advice a second time, have him disposed of out of hand and reckless of +consequences. + +Whilst Lanciotto was left busy in the ante-room the Count passed into +his bedchamber attended by Zaccaria, to make in his raiment such changes +as were expedient. But scarce had he begun when he was interrupted by +the arrival of Fanfulla degli Arcipreti, whom Lanciotto ushered in. +Francesco's face lighted at sight of his friend, and he held out his +hand. + +"What is it that has happened?" cried the young gallant, adding that +which showed his question to be unnecessary, for from Fabrizio da Lodi +he had had the whole story of what was befallen. He sat himself upon the +bed, and utterly disregarding the presence of Zaccaria--whom he knew +to be faithful--he attempted to persuade the Count where Fabrizio had +failed. But Paolo cut him short ere he had gone very far. + +"Have done with that," he said, and for all that he said it with +a laugh, determination sounded sturdy in his accents. "I am a +knight-errant, not a prince, and I'll not be converted from one to the +other. It were making a helot of a free man, and you do not love me, +Fanfulla, if you drive this argument further. Do you think me sad, +cast down, at the prospect of this banishment? Why, boy, the blood runs +swifter through my veins since I heard the sentence. It frees me from +Babbiano in an hour when perhaps my duty--the reciprocation of the +people's love--might otherwise have held me here, and it gives me +liberty to go forth, my good Fanfulla, in quest of such adventure as +I choose to follow." He threw out his arms, and displayed his splendid +teeth in a hearty laugh. + +Fanfulla eyed him, infected by the boisterous gladness of his mood. + +"Why, true indeed, my lord," he acknowledged, "you are too fine a bird +to sing in a cage. But to go knight-erranting----" He paused, and spread +his hands in protest. "There are no longer dragons holding princesses +captive." + +"Alas no. But the Venetians are on the eve of war, and they will find +work for these hands of mine. I want not for friends among them." + +Fanfulla sighed. + +"And so we lose you. The stoutest arm in Babbiano leaves us in the hour +of need, driven out by that loutish Duke. By my soul, Ser Francesco, I +would I might go with you. Here is nothing to be done." + +Francesco paused in the act of drawing on a boot, and raised his eyes to +stare a moment at his friend. + +"But if you wish it, Fanfulla, I shall rejoice to have your company." + +And now the idea of it entered Fanfulla's mind in earnest, for his +expression had been more or less an idle one. But since Francesco +invited him, why not indeed? + +And thus it came to pass that at the third hour of that warm May night +a party of four men on horseback and two sumpter mules passed out of +Babbiano and took the road that leads to Vinamare, and thence into the +territory of Urbino. These riders were the Count of Aquila and Fanfulla +degli Arcipreti, followed by Lanciotto leading a mule that bore the arms +of those knights-errant, and Zaccaria leading another with their general +baggage. + +All night they rode beneath the stars, and on until some three hours +after sunrise, when they made halt in a hollow of the hills not far from +Fabriano. They tethered their horses in a grove of peaceful laurel and +sheltering mulberry, at the foot of a slope that was set with olive +trees, grey, gnarled and bent as aged cripples, and beside the river +Esino at a spot where it was so narrow that an agile man might leap its +width. Here, then, they spread their cloaks, and Zaccaria unpacked +his victuals, and set before them a simple meal of bread and wine and +roasted fowl, which to their hunger made more appeal than a banquet at +another season. And when they had eaten they laid them down beside the +stream, and there beguiled in pleasant talk the time until they fell +asleep. They rested them through the heat of the day, and waking some +three hours after noon, the Count rose up and went some dozen paces down +the stream to a spot where it fell into a tiny lake--a pool deep and +blue as the cloudless heavens which it mirrored. Here he stripped off +his garments and plunged headlong in, to emerge again, some moments +later, refreshed and reinvigorated in body and in soul. + +As Fanfulla awoke he beheld an apparition coming towards him, a figure +lithe and stalwart as a sylvian god, the water shining on the ivory +whiteness of his skin and glistening in his sable hair as the sunlight +caught it. + +"Tell me now, Fanfulla, lives there a man of so depraved a mind that he +would prefer a ducal crown to this?" + +And the courtier, seeing Francesco's radiant mien, understood perhaps, +at last, how sordid was the ambition that could lure a man from such a +god-like freedom, and from the holy all-consuming joys it brought him. +His thoughts being started upon that course, it was of this they talked +what time the Count resumed his garments--his hose of red, his knee-high +boots of untanned leather, and his quilted brigandine of plain brown +cloth, reputed dagger-proof. He rose at last to buckle on his belt +of hammered steel, from which there hung, behind his loins, a stout, +lengthy dagger, the only weapon that he carried. + +At his command the horses were saddled and the sumpters laden once more. +Lanciotto held his stirrup, and Zaccaria did like service for Fanfulla, +and presently they were cantering out of that fragrant grove on to the +elastic sward of broad, green pasture-lands. They crossed the stream at +a spot where the widened sheet of water scarce went higher than their +horses' hocks; then veering to the east they rode away from the hills +for a half-league or so until they gained a road. Here they turned +northward again, and pushed on towards Cagli. + +As the bells were ringing the Ave Maria the cavalcade drew up before +the Palazzo Valdicampo, where two nights ago Gian Maria had been +entertained. Its gates were now as readily thrown wide to welcome the +illustrious and glorious Count of Aquila, who was esteemed by Messer +Valdicampo no less than his more puissant cousin. Chambers were set at +his disposal, and at Fanfulla's; servants were bidden to wait upon them; +fresh raiment was laid out for them, and a noble supper was prepared to +do honour to Francesco. Nor did the generous Valdicampo's manner cool +when he learned that Francesco was in disgrace at the Court of Babbiano +and banished from the dominions of Duke Gian Maria. He expressed +sympathetic regret at so untoward a circumstance and discreetly +refrained from passing any opinion thereupon. + +Yet later, as they supped, and when perhaps the choice wines had +somewhat relaxed his discretion, he permitted himself to speak of Gian +Maria's ways in terms that were very far from laudatory. + +"Here, in my house," he informed them, "he committed an outrage upon a +poor unfortunate, for which an account may yet be asked of me--since it +was under my roof that the thing befell, for all that I knew nothing of +it." + +Upon being pressed by Paolo to tell them more, he parted with the +information that the unfortunate in question was Urbino's jester Peppe. +At that, Paolo's glance became more intent. The memory of his meeting +with the fool and his mistress in the woods, a month ago, flashed now +across his mind, and it came to him that he could rightly guess the +source whence his cousin had drawn the information that had led to his +own arrest and banishment. + +"Of what nature was the outrage?" he inquired. + +"From what Peppe himself has told me it would seem that the fool was +possessed of some knowledge which Gian Maria sought, but on which Peppe +was bound by oath to silence. Gian Maria caused him to be secretly taken +and carried off from Urbino. His sbirri brought the fellow here, and to +make him speak the Duke improvised in his bedchamber a tratta di corde, +which had the desired result." + +The Count's face grew dark with anger. "The coward!" he muttered. "The +dastardly craven!" + +"But bethink you, sir Count," exclaimed Valdicampo, "that this poor +Peppe is a frail and deformed creature, lacking the strength of an +ordinary man, and do not judge him over-harshly." + +"It was not of him I spoke," replied Francesco, "but of my cousin, that +cowardly tyrant, Gian Maria Sforza. Tell me, Messer Valdicampo--what has +become of Ser Peppe?" + +"He is still here. I have had him tended, and his condition is already +much improved. It will not be long ere he is recovered, but for a few +days yet his arms will remain almost useless. They were all but torn +from his body." + +When the meal was done Francesco begged his host to conduct him to +Peppe's chamber. This Valdicampo did, and leaving Fanfulla in the +company of the ladies of his house, he escorted the Count to the room +where the poor, ill-used hunchback was abed tended by one of the women +of Valdicampo's household. + +"Here is a visitor to see you, Ser Peppe," the old gentleman announced, +setting down his candle on a table by the bed. The jester turned his +great head towards the newcomer's, and sought with melancoly eyes the +face of his visitor. At sight of him a look of terror spread itself upon +his countenance. + +"My lord," he cried, struggling into a sitting posture, "my noble, +gracious lord, have mercy on me. I could tear out this craven tongue of +mine. But did you know what agonies I suffered, and to what a torture +they submitted me to render me unfaithful, it may be that you, yourself, +would pity me." + +"Why, that I do," answered Francesco gently. "Indeed, could I have seen +the consequences that oath would have for you, I had not bound you by +it." + +The fear in Peppe's face gave place to unbelief. + +"And you forgive me, lord?" he cried. "I dreaded when you entered +that you were come to punish me for what wrong I may have done you in +speaking. But if you forgive me, it may be that Heaven will forgive me +also, and that I may not be damned. And that were a thousand pities, for +what, my lord, should I do in hell?" + +"Deride the agonies of Gian Maria," answered Francesco, with a laugh. + +"It were almost worth burning for," mused Peppe, putting forth a hand, +whose lacerated, swollen wrist bore evidence to the torture he had +suffered. At sight of it the Count made an exclamation of angry horror, +and hastened to inquire into the poor fool's condition. + +"It is not so bad now," Peppe answered him, "and it is only in +consequence of Messer Valdicampo's insistence that I have kept my bed. I +can scarce use my arms, it is true, but they are improving. To-morrow +I shall be up, and I hope to set out for Urbino, where my dear mistress +must be distressed with fears for my absence, for she is a very kind and +tender-hearted lady." + +This resolve of Peppe's prompted the Count to offer to conduct him +to Urbino on the morrow, since he, himself, would be journeying that +way--an offer which the fool accepted without hesitation and with lively +gratitude. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. THE FOOL'S INQUISITIVENESS + + +In the morning Francesco set out once more, accompanied by his servants, +Fanfulla, and the fool. The latter was now so far restored as to be able +to sit a mule, but lest the riding should over-tire him they proceeded +at little more than an ambling pace along the lovely valleys of the +Metauro. Thus it befell that when night descended it found them still +journeying, and some two leagues distant from Urbino. Another league +they travelled in the moonlight, and the fool was beguiling the time +for them with a droll story culled from the bright pages of Messer +Boccaccio, when of a sudden his sharp ears caught a sound that struck +him dumb in the middle of a sentence. + +"Are you faint?" asked Francesco, turning quickly towards him, and +mindful of the fellow's sore condition. + +"No, no," answered the fool, with a readiness that dispelled the Count's +alarm on that score. "I thought I heard a sound of marching in the +distance." + +"The wind in the trees, Peppino," explained Fanfulla. + +"I do not think----" He stopped short and listened and now they all +heard it, for it came wafted to them on a gust of the fitful breeze that +smote their faces. + +"You are right," said Francesco. "It is the tramp of men. But what +of that, Peppe? Men will march in Italy. Let us hear the end of your +story." + +"But who should march in Urbino, and by night?" the fool persisted. + +"Do I know or do I care?" quoth the Count. "Your story, man." + +For all that he was far from satisfied, the fool resumed his narrative. +But he no longer told it with his former irresistible humour. His mind +was occupied with that sound of marching, which came steadily nearer. +At length he could endure it no longer, and the apathy of his companions +fired him openly to rebel. + +"My lord," he cried, turning to the Count, and again leaving his story +interrupted, "they are all but upon us." + +"True!" agreed Francesco indifferently. "The next turn yonder should +bring us into them." + +"Then I beg you, Lord Count, to step aside. Let us pause here, under +the trees, until they have passed. I am full of fears. Perhaps I am a +coward, but I mislike these roving night-hands. It may be a company of +masnadieri." + +"What then?" returned the Count, without slackening speed. "What cause +have we to fear a party of robbers?" + +But Fanfulla and the servants joined their advice to Peppe's, and +prevailed at last upon Francesco to take cover until this company should +have passed. He consented, to pacify them, and wheeling to the right +they entered the border of the forest, drawing rein well in the shadow, +whence they could survey the road and see who passed across the patch +of moonlight that illumined it. And presently the company came along +and swung into that revealing flood of light. To the astonishment of +the watchers they beheld no marauding party such as they had been led to +expect, but a very orderly company of some twenty men, soberly arrayed +in leather hacketons and salades of bright steel, marching sword +on thigh and pike on shoulder. At the head of this company rode a +powerfully-built man on a great sorrel horse, at sight of whom the +fool swore softly in astonishment. In the middle of the party came four +litters borne by mules, and at the side of one of them rode a slender, +graceful figure that provoked from Peppe a second oath. But the +profoundest objurgation of all was wrung from him at sight of a portly +bulk in the black habit of the Dominicans ambling in the rear, who just +then was in angry altercation with a fellow that was urging his mule +along with the butt of his partisan. + +"May you be roasted on a gridiron like Saint Lawrence," gasped the irate +priest. "Would you break my neck, brute beast that you are? Do you +but wait until we reach Roccaleone, and by St. Dominic, I'll get your +ruffianly commander to hang you for this ill-seasoned jest." + +But his tormentor laughed for answer, and smote the mule again, a blow +this time that almost caused it to rear up. The friar cried out in +angry alarm, and then, still storming and threatening his persecutor, he +passed on. After him came six heavily-laden carts, each drawn by a pair +of bullocks, and the rear of the procession was brought up by a flock of +a dozen bleating sheep, herded by a blasphemant man-at-arms. They passed +the astonished watchers, who remained concealed until that odd company +had melted away into the night. + +"I could swear," said Fanfulla, "that that friar and I have met before." + +"Nor would you do a perjury," answered him the fool. "For it is that fat +hog Fra Domenico--he that went with you to the Convent of Acquasparta to +fetch unguents for his Excellency." + +"What does he in that company, and who are they?" asked the Count, +turning to the fool as they rode out of their ambush. + +"Ask me where the devil keeps his lures," quoth the fool, "and I'll +make some shift to answer you. But as for what does Fra Domenico in that +galley, it is more than I can hazard a guess on. He is not the only +one known to me," Peppino added, "There was Ercole Fortemani, a great, +dirty, blustering ruffian whom I never saw in aught but rags, riding at +their heads in garments of most unwonted wholeness; and there was Romeo +Gonzaga, whom I never knew to stir by night save to an assignation. +Strange things must be happening in Urbino." + +"And the litters?" inquired Francesco, "Can you hazard no guess as to +their meaning?" + +"None," said he, "saving that they may account for the presence of +Messer Gonzaga. For litters argue women." + +"It seems, fool, that not even your wisdom shall avail us. But you heard +the friar say they were bound for Roccaleone?" + +"Yes, I heard that. And by means of it we shall probably learn the rest +at the end of our journey." + +And being a man of extremely inquisitive mind, the fool set his +inquiries on foot the moment they entered the gates of Urbino in the +morning--for they had reached the city over-late to gain admittance that +same night, and were forced to seek shelter in one of the houses by the +river. It was of the Captain of the Gate that he sought information. + +"Can you tell me, Ser Capitan," he inquired, "what company was that that +travelled yesternight to Roccaleone?" + +The captain looked at him a moment. + +"There was none that I know of," said he, "Certainly none from Urbino." + +"You keep a marvellous watch," said the fool drily. "I tell you that a +company of men-at-arms some twenty strong went last night from Urbino to +Roccaleone." + +"To Roccaleone?" echoed the captain, with a musing air, more attentively +than before, as if the repetition of that name had suggested something +to his mind. "Why, it is the castle of Monna Valentina." + +"True, sapient sir. But what of the company, and why was it travelling +so, by night?" + +"How know you it proceeded from Urbino?" quoth the captain earnestly. + +"Because at its head I recognised the roaring warrior Ercole Fortemani, +in the middle rode Romeo Gonzaga, in the rear came Fra Domenico, +Madonna's confessor--men of Urbino all." + +The officer's face grew purple at the news. + +"Were there any women in the party?" he cried. + +"I saw none," replied the fool, in whom this sudden eagerness of the +captain's awakened caution and reflection. + +"But there were four litters," put in Francesco, whose nature was less +suspicious and alert than the wise fool's. + +Too late Peppe scowled caution at him. The captain swore a great oath. + +"It is she," he cried, with assurance. "And this company was travelling +to Roccaleone, you say. How know you that?" + +"We heard it from the friar," answered Francesco readily. + +"Then, by the Virgin! we have them. Ola!" He turned from them, and ran +shouting into the gatehouse, to re-emerge a moment later with half-dozen +soldiers at his heels. + +"To the Palace," he commanded, and as his men surrounded Francesco's +party, "Come, sir," he said to the Count. "You must go with us, and tell +your story to the Duke." + +"There is no need for all this force," answered Francesco coldly. +"In any case, I could not pass through Urbino without seeing Duke +Guidobaldo. I am the Count of Aquila." + +At once the captain's bearing grew respectful. He made his apologies for +the violent measures of his zeal, and bade his men fall behind. Ordering +them to follow him, he mounted a horse that was brought him, and rode +briskly through the borgo at the Count's side. And as he rode he told +them what the jester's quick intuition had already whispered to him. +The lady Valentina was fled from Urbino in the night, and in her company +were gone three of her ladies, and--it was also supposed, since they had +disappeared--Fra Domenico and Romeo Gonzaga. + +Aghast at what he heard, Francesco pressed his informer for more news; +but there was little more that the captain could tell him, beyond +the fact that it was believed she had been driven to it to escape her +impending marriage with the Duke of Babbiano. Guidobaldo was distraught +at what had happened, and anxious to bring the lady back before news of +her behaviour should reach the ears of Gian Maria. It was, therefore, a +matter of no little satisfaction to the captain that the task should be +his to bear Guidobaldo this news of her whereabouts which from Francesco +and the jester he had derived. + +Peppe looked glum and sullen. Had he but bridled his cursed curiosity, +and had the Count but taken the alarm in time and held his peace, all +might have been well with his beloved patrona. As it was, he--the one +man ready to die that he might serve her--had been the very one to +betray her refuge. He heard the Count's laugh, and the sound of it was +fuel to his anger. But Francesco only thought of the splendid daring of +the lady's action. + +"But these men-at-arms that she had with her?" he cried. "For what +purpose so numerous a bodyguard?" + +The captain looked at him a moment. + +"Can you not guess?" he inquired. "Perhaps you do not know the Castle of +Roccaleone." + +"It were odd if I did not know the most impregnable fortress in Italy." + +"Why, then, does it not become clear? She has taken this company for +a garrison, and in Roccaleone she clearly intends to resist in rebel +fashion the wishes of his Highness." + +At that the Count threw back his head, and scared the passers-by with as +hearty a peal of laughter as ever crossed his lips. + +"By the Host!" he gasped, laughter still choking his utterance. "There +is a maid for you! Do you hear what the captain says, Fanfulla? She +means to resist this wedding by armed force if needs be. Now, on my +soul, if Guidobaldo insists upon the union after this, why, then, he has +no heart, no feeling. As I live, she is a kinswoman that such a warlike +prince might well be proud of. Small wonder that they do not fear the +Borgia in Urbino." And he laughed again. But the captain scowled at him, +and Peppe frowned. + +"She is a rebellious jade," quoth the captain sourly. + +"Nay, softly," returned Francesco; for all that he still laughed. "If +you were of knightly rank I'd break a lance with you on that score. As +it is----" he paused, his laughter ceased, and his dark eyes took the +captain's measure in a curious way. "Best leave her uncensured, Ser +Capitano. She is of the house of Rovere, and closely allied to that of +Montefeltro." + +The officer felt the rebuke, and silence reigned between them after +that. + +It was whilst Francesco, Fanfulla and Peppe waited in the ante-chamber +for admittance to the Duke that the jester vented some of the bitterness +he felt at their babbling. The splendid room was thronged with a courtly +crowd. There were magnificent nobles and envoys, dark ecclesiastics +and purple prelates, captains in steel and court officers in silk and +velvet. Yet, heedless of who might hear him, Peppe voiced his rebuke, +and the terms he employed were neither as measured nor as respectful as +the Count's rank dictated. Yet with that fairness of mind that made him +so universally beloved, Francesco offered no resentment to the fool's +reproof. He saw that it was deserved, for it threw upon the matter a +light that was new and more searching. But he presently saw further than +did the fool, and he smiled at the other's scowls. + +"Not so loud Peppe," said he. "You over-estimate the harm. At worst, +we have but anticipated by a little what the Duke must have learnt from +other sources." + +"But it is just that little--the few hours or days--that will do the +mischief," snapped the jester testily, for all that he lowered his +voice. "In a few days Gian Maria will be back. If he were met with the +news that the Lady Valentina were missing, that she had run away with +Romeo Gonzaga--for that, you'll see, will presently be the tale--do you +think he would linger here, or further care to pursue his wooing? Not +he. These alliances that are for State purposes alone, in which the +heart plays no part, demand, at least, that on the lady's side there +shall be a record unblemished by the breath of scandal. His Highness +would have returned him home, and Madonna would have been rid of him." + +"But at a strange price, Peppe," answered Franeesco gravely. "Still," he +added, "I agree that I would have served her purpose better by keeping +silent. But that such an affair will cool the ardour of my cousin I do +not think. You are wrong in placing this among the alliances in which +the heart has no part. On my cousin's side--if all they say be true--the +heart plays a very considerable part indeed. But, for the rest--what +harm have we done?" + +"Time will show," said the hunchback. + +"It will show, then, that I have done no hurt whatever to her +interests. By now she is safe in Roccaleone. What, then, can befall her? +Guidobaldo, no doubt, will repair to her, and across the moat he will +entreat her to be a dutiful niece and to return. She will offer to do +so on condition that he pass her his princely word not to further molest +her with the matter of this marriage. And then?" + +"Well?" growled the fool, "And then? Who shall say what may befall then? +Let us say that his Highness reduces her by force." + +"A siege?" laughed the Count. "Pooh! Where is your wisdom, fool! Do you +think the splendid Guidobaldo is eager to become the sport of Italy, +and go down to posterity as the duke who besieged his niece because she +resisted his ordainings touching the matter of her wedding?" + +"Guidobaldo da Montefeltro can be a violent man upon occasion," the fool +was answering, when the officer who had left them reappeared with the +announcement that his Highness awaited them. + +They found the Prince in a very gloomy mood, and after greeting +Francesco with cool ceremony, he questioned him on the matter of the +company they had met yesternight. These inquiries he conducted with +characteristic dignity, and no more show of concern than if it had been +an affair of a strayed falcon. He thanked Francesco for his information, +and gave orders that the seneschal should place apartments at his and +Fanfulla's disposal for as long as it should please them to grace +his court. With that he dismissed them, bidding the officer remain to +receive his orders. + +"And that," said Francesco to Peppe, as they crossed the ante-chamber +in the wake of a servant, "is the man who would lay siege to his niece's +castle? For once, sir fool, your wisdom is at fault." + +"You do not know the Duke, Excellency," answered the fool. "Beneath that +frozen exterior burns a furnace, and there is no madness he would not +commit." + +But Francesco only laughed as, linking arms with Fanfulla, he passed +down the gallery on his way to the apartments to which the servant was +conducting them. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. GIAN MARIA MAKES A VOW + + +In a measure the events that followed would almost tend to show that +the fool was right. For even if the notion of besieging Valentina and +reducing her by force of arms was not Guidobaldo's own in the first +place, yet he lent a very willing ear to the counsel that they should +thus proceed, when angrily urged two days thereafter by the Duke of +Babbiano. + +Upon hearing the news Gian Maria had abandoned himself to such a licence +of rage as made those about him tremble from the highest to the meanest. +The disappointment of his passion was in itself justification enough for +this; but, in addition, Gian Maria beheld in the flight of Valentina the +frustration of those bold schemes of which had talked so loudly to his +councillors and his mother. It was his confidence in those same schemes +that had induced him to send that defiant answer to Caesar Borgia. As +a consequence of this there was haste--most desperate haste--that he +should wed, since wedding was to lend him the power to carry out his +brave promises of protecting his crown from the Duke of Valentinois, +not to speak of the utter routing of the Borgia which he had wildly +undertaken to accomplish. + +That the destinies of States should be tossed to the winds of Heaven +by a slip of a girl was to him something as insufferable as it had been +unexpected. + +"She must be brought back!" he had screeched, in his towering passion. +"She must be brought back at once." + +"True!" answered Guidobaldo, in his serene way; "she must be brought +back. So far, I agree with you entirely. Tell me, now, how the thing is +to be accomplished." And there was sarcasm in his voice. + +"What difficulties does it present?" inquired Gian Maria. + +"No difficulties," was the ironical reply. "She has shut herself up in +the stoutest castle in Italy, and tells me that she will not come +forth until I promise her freedom of choice in the matter of marriage. +Clearly, there are no difficulties attached to her being brought back." + +Gian Maria showed his teeth. + +"Do you give me leave to go about it in my own way?" he asked. + +"Not only do I give you leave, but I'll render you all the assistance in +my power, if you can devise a means for luring her from Roccaleone." + +"I hesitate no longer. Your niece, Lord Duke, is a rebel, and as a rebel +is she to be treated. She has garrisoned a castle, and hurled defiance +at the ruler of the land. It is a declaration of war, Highness, and war +we shall have." + +"You would resort to force?" asked Guidobaldo, disapproval lurking in +his voice. + +"To the force of arms, your Highness," answered Gian Maria, with prompt +fierceness. "I will lay siege to this castle of hers, and I shall tear +it stone from stone. Oh, I would have wooed her nicely had she let me, +with gentle words and mincing ways that maidens love. But since +she defies us, I'll woo her with arquebuse and cannon, and seek by +starvation to make her surrender to my suit. My love shall put on armour +to subject her, and I vow to God that I shall not shave my beard until I +am inside her castle." + +Guidobaldo looked grave. + +"I should counsel gentler measures," said he. "Besiege her if you will, +but do not resort to too much violence. Cut off their resources and let +hunger be your advocate. Even so, I fear me, you will be laughed at by +all Italy," he added bluntly. + +"A fig for that! Let the fools laugh if they be minded to. What forces +has she at Roccaleone?" + +At the question Guidobaldo's brow grew dark. It was as if he had +recalled some circumstance that had lain forgotten. + +"Some twenty knaves led by a notorious ruffian of the name of Fortemani. +The company was enrolled, they tell me, by a gentleman of my court, a +kinsman of my Duchess, Messer Romeo Gonzaga." + +"Is he with her now?" gasped Gian Maria. + +"It would seem he is." + +"By the Virgin's Ring of Perugia!" spluttered Gian Maria in increased +dismay. "Do you suggest that they fled together?" + +"My lord!" Guidobaldo's voice rang sharp and threatening. "It is of my +niece that you are speaking. She took this gentleman with her just as +she took three of her ladies and a page or two, to form such attendance +as befits her birth." + +Gian Maria took a turn in the apartment, a frown wrinkling his brow, and +his lips pressed tight. Guidobaldo's proud words by no means convinced +him. But the one preponderating desire in his heart just then was +to humble the girl who had dared to flout him, to make her bend her +stubborn neck. At last: + +"I may indeed become the laughing-stock of Italy," he muttered, in a +concentrated voice, "but I shall carry my resolve through, and my first +act upon entering Roccaleone will be to hang this knave Gonzaga from its +highest turret." + +That very day Gian Maria began his preparations for the expedition +against Roccaleone, and word of it was carried by Fanfulla to +Francesco--for the latter had left his quarters at the palace upon +hearing of Gian Maria's coming, and was now lodging at the sign of the +"Sun." + +Upon hearing the news he swore a mighty oath in which he consigned +his cousin to the devil, by whom, in that moment, he pronounced him +begotten. + +"Do you think," he asked, when he was calmer, "that this man Gonzaga is +her lover?" + +"It is more than I can say," answered Fanfulla. "There is the fact that +she fled with him. Though when I questioned Peppe on this same subject +he first laughed the notion to scorn, and then grew grave. 'She loves +him not, the popinjay,' he said; 'but he loves her, or I am blind else, +and he's a villain, I know.'" + +Francesco stood up, his face mighty serious, and his dark eyes full of +uneasy thought. + +"By the Host! It is a shameful thing," he cried out at last. "This +poor lady so beset on every hand by a parcel of villains, each more +unscrupulous than the other. Fanfulla, send for Peppe. We must despatch +the fool to her with warning of Gian Maria's coming, and warning, too, +against this man of Mantua she has fled with." + +"Too late," answered Fanfulla. "The fool departed this morning for +Roccaleone, to join his patrona." + +Francesco looked his dismay. + +"She will be undone," he groaned. "Thus between the upper and the nether +stone--between Gian Maria and Romeo Gonzaga. Gesu! she will be undone! +And she so brave and so high-spirited!" + +He moved slowly to the casement, and stood staring at the windows across +the street, on which the setting sun fell in a ruddy glow. But it was +not the windows that he saw. It was a scene in the woods at Acquasparta +on that morning after the mountain fight; a man lying wounded in the +bracken, and over him a gentle lady bending with eyes of pity and +solicitude. Often since had his thoughts revisited that scene, sometimes +with a smile, sometimes with a sigh, and sometimes with both at once. + +He turned suddenly upon Fanfulla. "I will go myself," he announced. + +"You?" echoed Fanfulla. "But the Venetians?" + +By a gesture the Count signified how little the Venetians weighed with +him when compared with the fortunes of this lady. + +"I am going to Roccaleone," he insisted, "now--at once." And striding to +the door he beat his hands together and called Lanciotto. + +"You said, Fanfulla, that in these days there are no longer maidens held +in bondage to whom a knight-errant may lend aid. You were at fault, for +in Monna Valentina we have the captive maiden, in my cousin the dragon, +in Gonzaga another, and in me the errant knight who is destined--I +hope--to save her." + +"You will save her from Gian Maria?" questioned Fanfulla incredulously. + +"I will attempt it." + +He turned to his servant, who entered as he spoke. + +"We set out in a quarter of an hour, Lanciotto," said he. "Saddle for me +and for yourself. You are to go with me. Zaccaria may remain with Messer +degli Arcipreti. You will care for him, Fanfulla, and he will serve you +well." + +"But what of me?" cried Fanfulla. "Do I not accompany you?" + +"If you will, yes. But you might serve me better by returning to +Babbiano and watching the events there, sending me word of what +befalls--for great things will befall soon if my cousin returns not and +the Borgia advances. It is upon this that I am founding such hopes as I +have." + +"But whither shall I send you word? To Roccaleone?" + +Francesco reflected a moment. "If you do not hear from me, then send +your news to Roccaleone, for if I should linger there and we are +besieged, it will perhaps be impossible to send a message to you. But +if--as I hope--I go to Aquila, I will send you word of it." + +"To Aquila?" + +"Yes. It may be that I shall be at Aquila before the week is out. But +keep it secret, Fanfulla, and I'll fool these dukes to the very top of +their unhealthy bent." + +A half-hour later the Count of Aquila, mounted on a stout Calabrian +horse, and attended by Lanciotto on a mule, rode gently down towards the +valley. They went unnoticed, for what cared for them the peasants that +sang at their labours in the contado? + +They met a merchant, whose servant was urging his laden sumpters up +the hilly road to the city on the heights, and they passed him with a +courteous greeting. Farther they came upon a mounted company of nobles +and ladies, returning from a hawking party, and followed by attendants +bearing their hooded falcons, and their gay laughter still rang in +Francesco's ears after he had passed from their sight and vanished in +the purple mists of eventide that came up to meet him from the river. + +They turned westward towards the Apennines, and pushed on after night +had fallen, until the fourth hour, when at Francesco's suggestion they +drew rein before a sleepy, wayside locanda, and awoke the host to demand +shelter. There they slept no longer than until matins, so that the grey +light of dawn saw them once more upon their way, and by the time the sun +had struck with its first golden shaft the grey crest of the old hills, +they drew rein on the brink of the roaring torrent at the foot of the +mighty crag that was crowned by the Castle of Roccaleone. + +Grim and gaunt it loomed above the fertile vale, with that torrent +circling it in a natural moat, like a giant sentinel of the Apennines +that were its background. And now the sunlight raced down the slopes of +the old mountains like a tide. It smote the square tower of the keep, +then flowed adown the wall, setting the old grey stone a-gleaming, and +flashing back from a mullioned window placed high up. Lower it came, +revealing grotesque gargoyles, flooding the crenellated battlements and +turning green the ivy and lichen that but a moment back had blackened +the stout, projecting buttresses. Thence it leapt to the ground, and +drove the shadow before it down the grassy slope, until it reached +the stream and sparkled on its foaming, tumbling waters, scattering a +hundred colours through the flying spray. + +And all that time, until the sun had reached him and included him in the +picture it was awakening, the Count of Aquila sat in his saddle, with +thoughtful eyes uplifted to the fortress. + +Then, Lanciotto following him, he walked his horse round the western +side, where the torrent was replaced by a smooth arm of water, for +which a cutting had been made to complete the isolation of the crag of +Roccaleone. But here, where the castle might more easily have become +vulnerable, a blank wall greeted him, broken by no more than a narrow +slit or two midway below the battlements. He rode on towards the +northern side, crossing a footbridge that spanned the river, and at +last coming to a halt before the entrance tower. Here again the moat was +formed by the torrential waters of the mountain stream. + +He bade his servant rouse the inmates, and Lanciotto hallooed in a voice +that nature had made deep and powerful. The echo of it went booming up +to scare the birds on the hillside, but evoked no answer from the silent +castle. + +"They keep a zealous watch," laughed the Count. "Again, Lanciotto." + +The man obeyed him, and again and again his deep voice rang out like a +trumpet-call before sign was made from within that it had been heard. +At length, above the parapet of the tower appeared a stunted figure with +head unkempt, as grotesque almost as any of the gargoyles beneath, and +an owlish face peered at them from one of the crenels of the battlement, +and demanded, in surly, croaking tones their business. Instantly the +Count recognised Peppe. + +"Good morrow, fool," he bade him. + +"You, my lord?" exclaimed the jester. + +"You sleep soundly at Roccaleone," quoth Francesco. "Bestir that knavish +garrison of yours, and bid the lazy dogs let down the bridge. I have +news for Monna Valentina." + +"At once, Excellency," the fool replied, and would have gone upon the +instant but that Francesco recalled him. + +"Say, Peppe, a knight--the knight she met at Acquasparta, if you will. +But leave my name unspoken." + +With the assurance that he would obey his wishes Peppe went his errand. +A slight delay ensued, and then upon the battlements appeared Gonzaga, +sleepy and contentious, attended by a couple of Fortemani's knaves, who +came to ask the nature of Francesco's business. + +"It is with Monna Valentina," answered him Francesco, raising head +and voice, so that Gonzaga recognised him for the wounded knight of +Acquasparta, remembered and scowled. + +"I am Monna Valentina's captain here," he announced, with arrogance. +"And you may deliver to me such messages as you bear." + +There followed a contention, conducted ill-humouredly on the part of +Gonzaga and scarcely less so on the Count's, Francesco stoutly refusing +to communicate his business to any but Valentina, and Gonzaga as stoutly +refusing to disturb the lady at that hour, or to lower the bridge. Words +flew between them across the waters of the moat, and grew hotter at each +fresh exchange, till in the end they were abruptly terminated by the +appearance of Valentina herself, attended by Peppino. + +"What is this, Gonzaga?" she inquired, her manner excited, for the fool +had told her that it was the knight Francesco who sought admittance, +and at the very mention of the name she had flushed, then paled, then +started for the ramparts. "Why is this knight denied admittance since +he bears a message for me?" And from where she stood she sought +with admiring eyes the graceful shape of the Count of Aquila--the +knight-errant of her dreams. Francesco bared his head, and bent to +the withers of his horse in courteous greeting. She turned to Gonzaga +impatiently. + +"For what do you wait?" she cried. "Have you not understood my wishes? +Let the bridge be lowered." + +"Bethink you, Madonna," he remonstrated. "You do not know this man. He +may be a spy of Gian Maria's--a hireling paid to betray us." + +"You fool," she answered sharply. "Do you not see that it is the wounded +knight we met that day you were escorting me to Urbino?" + +"What shall that signify?" demanded he. "Is it proof of his honesty of +purpose or loyalty to you? Be advised, Madonna, and let him deliver his +message from where he is. He is safer there." + +She measured him with a determined eye. + +"Messer Gonzaga, order them to lower the bridge," she bade him. + +"But, lady, bethink you of your peril." + +"Peril?" she echoed. "Peril from two men, and we a garrison of over +twenty? Surely the man is a coward who talks so readily of perils. Have +the drawbridge lowered." + +"But if----" he began, with a desperate vehemence, when again she cut +him short. + +"Am I to be obeyed? Am I mistress, and will you bid them lower the +bridge, or must I, myself, go see to it?" + +With a look of despairing anger and a shrug of the shoulders he turned +from her, and despatched one of his men with an order. A few moments +later, with a creaking of hinges and a clanking of chains, the great +bridge swung down and dropped with a thud to span the gulf. Instantly +the Count spurred his horse forward, and followed by Lanciotto rode +across the plank and under the archway of the entrance tower into the +first courtyard. + +Now, scarcely had he drawn rein there when through a door at the far end +appeared the gigantic figure of Fortemani, half-clad and sword in hand. +At sight of Francesco the fellow leaped down a half-dozen steps, and +advanced towards him with a burst of oaths. + +"To me!" he shouted, in a voice that might have waked the dead. "Ola! +Ola! What devil's work is this? How come you here? By whose orders was +the bridge let down?" + +"By the orders of Monna Valentina's captain," answered Francesco, +wondering what madman might be this. + +"Captain?" cried the other, coming to a standstill and his face turning +purple. "Body of Satan! What captain? I am captain here." + +The Count looked him over in surprise. + +"Why, then," said he, "you are the very man I seek. I congratulate you +on the watch you keep, Messer Capitano. Your castle is so excellently +patrolled that had I been minded for a climb I had scaled your walls and +got within your gates without arousing any of your slumbering sentries." + +Fortemani eyed him with a lowering glance. The prosperity of the past +four days had increased the insolence inherent in the man. + +"Is that your affair?" he growled menacingly. "You are over-bold, sir +stranger, to seek a quarrel with me, and over-pert to tell me how I +shall discharge my captaincy. By the Passion! You shall be punished." + +"Punished--I?" echoed Francesco, on whose brow there now descended a +scowl as black as Ercole's own. + +"Aye, punished, young sir. Ercole Fortemani is my name." + +"I have heard of you," answered the Count contemptuously, "and of how +you belie that name of yours, for they tell me that a more drunken, +cowardly, good-for-nothing rogue is not to be found in Italy--no, not +even in the Pope's dominions. And have a care how you cast the word +'punishment' at your betters, animal. The moat is none so distant, and +the immersion may profit you. For I'll swear you've not been washed +since they baptized you--if, indeed, you be a son of Mother Church at +all." + +"Sangue di Cristo!" spluttered the enraged bully, his face mottled. +"This to me? Come down from that horse." + +He laid hold of Francesco's leg to drag him to the ground, but the Count +wrenched it free by a quick motion that left a gash from his spur upon +the captain's hands. Simultaneously he raised his whip, and would have +laid the lash of it across the broad of Fortemani's back--for it had +angered him beyond words to have a ruffian of this fellow's quality +seeking to ruffle it with him--but at that moment a female voice, stern +and imperative, bade them hold in their quarrel. + +Fortemani fell back nursing his lacerated hand and muttering curses, +whilst Francesco turned in the direction whence that voice had come. +Midway on the flight of stone steps he beheld Valentina, followed +by Gonzaga, Peppe, and a couple of men-at-arms, descending from the +battlements. + +Calm and queenly she stood, dressed in a camorra of grey velvet with +black sleeves, which excellently set off her handsome height. Gonzaga +was leaning forward, speaking into her ear, and for all that his voice +was subdued, some of his words travelled down to Francesco on the still, +morning air. + +"Was I not wise, Madonna, in that I hesitated to admit him? You see what +manner of man he is." + +The blood flamed in Francesco's cheeks, nor did it soften his chagrin to +note the look which Valentina flashed down at him. + +Instantly he leapt to the ground, and flinging his reins to Lanciotto +he went forward to the foot of that stone staircase, his broad hat slung +back upon his shoulders, to meet that descending company. + +"Is this seemly, sir?" she questioned angrily. "Does it become you to +brawl with my garrison the moment you are admitted?" + +The blood rose higher in Francesco's face, and now suffused his temples +and reached his hair. Yet his voice was well restrained as he made +answer: + +"Madonna, this knave was insolent." + +"An insolence that you no doubt provoked," put in Gonzaga, a dimple +showing on his woman's cheek. But the sterner rebuke fell from the lips +of Valentina. + +"Knave?" she questioned, with flushed countenance. "If you would not +have me regret your admittance, Messer Francesco, I pray you curb your +words. Here are no knaves. That, sir, is the captain of my soldiers." + +Francesco bowed submissively, as patient under her reproof as he had +been hasty under Fortemani's. + +"It was on the matter of this captaincy that we fell to words," he +answered, with more humility. "By his own announcement I understood this +nobleman"--and his eyes turned to Gonzaga--"to be your captain." + +"He is the captain of my castle," she informed him. + +"As you see, Ser Francesco," put in Peppe, who had perched himself upon +the balustrade, "we suffer from no lack of captains here. We have also +Fra Domenico, who is captain of our souls and of the kitchen; myself am +captain of----" + +"Devil take you, fool," snapped Gonzaga, thrusting him roughly from his +perch. Then turning abruptly to the Count: "You bear a message for us, +sir?" he questioned loftily. + +Swallowing the cavalier tone, and overlooking the pronoun Gonzaga +employed, Francesco inclined his head again to the lady. + +"I should prefer to deliver it in more privacy than this." And his +eye travelled round the court and up the steps behind, where was now +collected the entire company of Fortemani. Gonzaga sneered and tossed +his golden curls, but Valentina saw naught unreasonable in the request, +and bidding Romeo attend her and Francesco follow, she led the way. + +They crossed the quadrangle, and, mounting the steps down which +Fortemani had dashed to meet the Count, they passed into the +banqueting-hall, which opened directly upon the south side of the +courtyard. The Count, following in her wake, ran the gauntlet of scowls +of the assembled mercenaries. He stalked past them unmoved, taking their +measure as he went, and estimating their true value with the unerring +eye of the practised condottiero who has had to do with the enrolling of +men and the handling of them. So little did he like their looks that on +the threshold of the hall he paused and stayed Gonzaga. + +"I am loath to leave my servant at the mercy of those ruffians, sir. May +I beg that you will warn them against offering him violence?" + +"Ruffians?" cried the lady angrily, before Gonzaga could offer a reply. +"They are my soldiers." + +Again he bowed, and there was a cold politeness in the tones in which he +answered her: + +"I crave your pardon, and I will say no more--unless it be to deplore +that I may not felicitate you on your choice." + +It was Gonzaga's turn to wax angry, for the choice had been his. + +"Your message will have need to be a weighty one, sir, to earn our +patience for your impertinence." + +Francesco returned the look of those blue eyes which vainly sought to +flash ferociously, and he made little attempt to keep his scorn from +showing in his glance. He permitted himself even to shrug his shoulders +a trifle impatiently. + +"Indeed, indeed, I think that I had best begone," he answered +regretfully, "for it is a place whose inmates seem all bent on +quarrelling with me. First your captain Fortemani greets me with an +insolence hard to leave unpunished. You, yourself, Madonna, resent that +I should crave protection for my man against those fellows whose looks +give rise for my solicitation. You are angry that I should dub them +ruffians, as if I had followed the calling of arms these ten years +without acquiring knowledge of the quality of a man however much you may +disguise him. And lastly, to crown all, this cicisbeo"--and he spread a +hand contemptuously towards Gonzaga--"speaks of my impertinences." + +"Madonna," cried Gonzaga, "I beg that you will let me deal with him." + +Unwittingly, unwillingly, Gonzaga saved the situation by that prayer. +The anger that was fast rising in Madonna's heart, stirred by the proud +bearing of the Count, was scattered before the unconscious humour of her +captain's appeal, in such ludicrous contrast was his mincing speech and +slender figure with Francesco's firm tones and lean, active height. +She did not laugh, for that would have been to have spoilt all, but she +looked from one to the other with quiet relish, noting the glance +of surprise and raised eyebrows with which the Count received the +courtier's request to be let deal with him. And thus, being turned +from anger, the balance of her mind was quick to adjust itself, and +she bethought her that perhaps there was reason in what this knight +advanced, and that his reception had lacked the courtesy that was his +due. In a moment, with incomparable grace and skill, she had soothed +Gonzaga's ruffled vanity, and appeased the Count's more sturdy +resentment. + +"And now, Messer Francesco," she concluded, "let us be friends, and let +me hear your business. I beg that you will sit." + +They had passed into the banqueting-hall--a noble apartment, whose walls +were frescoed with hunting and pastoral scenes, one or two of which +were the work of Pisaniello. There were, too, some stray trophies of +the chase, and, here and there, a suit of costly armour that caught the +sunlight pouring through the tall, mullioned windows. At the far end +stood a richly carved screen of cedar, and above this appeared the +twisted railing of the minstrels' gallery. In a tall armchair of +untanned leather, at the head of the capacious board, Monna Valentina +sat herself, Gonzaga taking his stand at her elbow, and Francesco +fronting her, leaning lightly against the table. + +"The news I bear you, lady, is soon told," said the Count. "I would its +quality were better. Your suitor Gian Maria returning to Guidobaldo's +court, eager for the nuptials that were promised him, has learnt of your +flight to Roccaleone and is raising--indeed will have raised by now--an +army to invest and reduce your fortress." + +Gonzaga turned as pale as the vest of white silk that gleamed beneath +his doublet of pearl-coloured velvet at this realisation of the +prophecies he had uttered without believing. A sickly fear possessed +his soul. What fate would they mete out to him who had been the leading +spirit in Valentina's rebellion? He could have groaned aloud at this +miscarriage of all his fine plans. Where now would be the time to talk +of love, to press and carry his suit with Valentina and render himself +her husband? There would be war in the air, and bloody work that made +his skin creep and turn cold to ponder on. And the irony of it all +was keenly cruel. It was the very contingency that he had prophesied, +assured that neither Guidobaldo nor Gian Maria would be so mad as to +court ridicule by engaging upon it. + +For a second Francesco's eyes rested on the courtier's face, and saw the +fear written there for all to read. The shadow of a smile quivered on +his lips as his glance moved on to meet the eyes of Valentina, sparkling +as sparkles frost beneath the sun. + +"Why, let them come!" she exclaimed, almost in exultation. "This ducal +oaf shall find me very ready for him. We are armed at all points. We +have victuals to last us three months, if need be, and we have no lack +of weapons. Let Gian Maria come, and he will find Valentina della Rovere +none so easy to reduce. To you, sir," she continued, with more calm, "to +you on whom I have no claim, I am more than grateful for your chivalrous +act in riding here to warn me." + +Francesco sighed; a look of regret crossed his face. + +"Alas!" he said. "When I rode hither, Madonna, I had hoped to serve you +to a better purpose. I had advice to offer and assistance if you should +need it; but the sight of those men-at-arms of yours makes me fear that +it is not advice upon which it would be wise to act. For the plan I had +in mind, it would be of the first importance that your soldiers should +be trustworthy, and this, I fear me, they are not." + +"Nevertheless," put in Gonzaga feverishly, clinging to a slender hope, +"let us hear it." + +"I beg that you will," said Valentina. + +Thus enjoined, Francesco pondered a moment. + +"Are you acquainted with the politics of Babbiano?" he inquired. + +"I know something of them." + +"I will make the position quite clear to you, Madonna," he rejoined. And +with that he told her of the threatened descent of Caesar Borgia upon +Gian Maria's duchy, and hence, of the little time at her suitor's +disposal; so that if he could but be held in check before the walls of +Roccaleone for a little while, all might be well. "But seeing in +what haste he is," he ended, "his methods are likely to be rough and +desperate, and I had thought that meanwhile you need not remain here, +Madonna." + +"Not remain?" she cried, scorn of the notion in her voice. "Not remain?" +quoth Gonzaga timorously, hope sounding in his. + +"Precisely, Madonna. I would have proposed that you leave Gian Maria +an empty nest, so that even if the castle should fall into his hands he +would gain nothing." + +"You would advise me to fly?" she demanded. + +"I came prepared to do so, but the sight of your men restrains me. They +are not trustworthy, and to save their dirty skins they might throw +Roccaleone open to the besiegers, and thus your flight would be +discovered, while yet there might be time to render it futile." + +Before she could frame an answer there was Gonzaga feverishly urging her +to act upon so wise and timely a suggestion, and seek safety in flight +from a place that Gian Maria would tear stone from stone. His words +pattered quickly and piteously in entreaty, till in the end, facing him +squarely: + +"Are you afraid, Gonzaga?" she asked him. + +"I am--afraid for you, Madonna," he answered readily. + +"Then let your fears have peace. For whether I stay or whether I go, one +thing is certain: Gian Maria never shall set hands upon me." She turned +again to Francesco. "I see a certain wisdom in the counsel of flight +you would have offered me, no less than in what I take to be your advice +that I should remain. Did I but consult my humour I should stay and +deliver battle when this tyrant shows himself. But prudence, too, must +be consulted, and I will give the matter thought." And now she thanked +him with a generous charm for having come to her with this news and +proffered his assistance, asking what motives brought him. + +"Such motives as must ever impel a knight to serve a lady in distress," +said he, "and perhaps, too, the memory of the charity with which you +tended my wounds that day at Acquasparta." + +For a second their glances met, quivered in the meeting, and fell apart +again, an odd confusion in the breast of each, all of which Gonzaga, +sunk in moody rumination, observed not. To lighten the awkward silence +that was fallen, she asked him how it had transpired so soon that it was +to Roccaleone she had fled. + +"Do you not know?" he cried. "Has not Peppe told you?" + +"I have had no speech with him. He but reached the castle, himself, late +last night, and I first saw him this morning when he came to announce +your presence." + +And then, before more could be said, there arose a din of shouting from +without. The door was pushed suddenly open, and Peppe darted into the +room. + +"Your man, Ser Francesco," he cried, his face white with excitement. +"Come quickly, or they will kill him." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. FORTEMANI DRINKS WATER + + +The thing had begun with the lowering glances that Francesco had +observed, and had grown to gibes and insults after he had disappeared. +But Lanciotto had preserved an unruffled front, being a man schooled in +the Count of Aquila's service to silence and a wondrous patience. This +insensibility those hinds translated into cowardice, and emboldened +by it--like the mongrels that they were--their offensiveness grew more +direct and gradually more threatening. Lanciotto's patience was slowly +oozing away, and indeed, it was no longer anything but the fear of +provoking his master's anger that restrained him. At length one burly +ruffian, who had bidden him remove his head-piece in the company of +gentlemen, and whose request had been by Lanciotto as disregarded as +the rest, advanced menacingly towards him and caught him by the leg, as +Ercole had caught his master. Exasperated at that, Lanciotto had swung +his leg free, and caught the rash fellow a vicious kick in the face that +had felled him, stunned and bleeding. + +The roar from the man's companions told Lanciotto what to expect. In an +instant they were upon him, clamouring for his blood. He sought to draw +his master's sword, which together with the Count's other armour was +slung across his saddle-bow; but before he could extricate it, he was +seized by a dozen hands, and cropped, fighting, from the saddle. On the +ground they overpowered him, and a mailed hand was set upon his mouth, +crushing back into his throat the cry for help he would have raised. + +On the west side of the courtyard a fountain issuing from the wall +had once poured its water through a lion's head into a vast tank of +moss-grown granite. But it had been disused for some time, and the pipe +in the lion's mouth was dry. The tank, however, was more than half full +of water, which, during the late untenanting of the castle, had turned +foul and stagnant. To drown Lanciotto in this was the amiable suggestion +that emanated from Fortemani himself--a suggestion uproariously received +by his knaves, who set themselves to act upon it. They roughly dragged +the bleeding and frantically struggling Lanciotto across the yard and +gained the border of the tank, intending fully to sink him into it and +hold him under, to drown there like a rat. + +But in that instant a something burst upon him like a bolt from out of +Heaven. In one or two, and presently in more, the cruel laughter turned +to sudden howls of pain as a lash of bullock-hide caught them about head +and face and shoulders. + +"Back there, you beasts, you animals, back!" roared a voice of thunder, +and back they went unquestioning before that pitiless lash, like the +pack of craven hounds they were. + +It was Francesco, who, single-handed, and armed with no more than a +whip, was scattering them from about his maltreated servant, as the hawk +scatters a flight of noisy sparrows. And now between him and Lanciotto +there stood no more than the broad bulk of Ercole Fortemani, his back to +the Count; for, as yet, he had not realised the interruption. + +Francesco dropped his whip, and setting one hand at the captain's +girdle, and the other at his dirty neck, he hoisted him up with a +strength incredible, and hurled him from his path and into the slimy +water of the tank. + +There was a mighty roar drowned in a mightier splash as Fortemani, +spread-eagle, struck the surface and sank from sight, whilst with the +flying spray there came a fetid odour to tell of the unsavouriness of +that unexpected bath. + +Without pausing to see the completion of his work, Francesco stooped +over his prostrate servant. + +"Have the beasts hurt you, Lanciotto?" he questioned. But before the +fellow could reply, one of those hinds had sprung upon the stooping +Count, and struck him with a dagger between the shoulder-blades. + +A woman's alarmed cry rang out, for Valentina was watching the affray +from the steps of the hall, with Gonzaga at her elbow. + +But Francesco's quilted brigandine had stood the test of steel, and the +point of that assassin's dagger glanced harmlessly aside, doing no worse +hurt than a rent in the silk surface of the garment. A second later +the fellow found himself caught as in a bond of steel. The dagger was +wrenched from his grasp, and the point of it laid against his breast +even as the Count forced him down upon his knees. + +In a flash was the thing done, yet to the wretched man who saw himself +upon the threshold of Eternity, and who--like a true son of the +Church--had a wholesome fear of hell, it seemed an hour whilst, with +livid cheeks and eyes starting from his head, he waited for that poniard +to sink into his heart, as it was aimed. But not in his heart did the +blow fall. With a sudden snort of angry amusement, the Count pitched the +dagger from him and brought down his clenched fist with a crushing force +into the ruffian's face. The fellow sank unconscious beneath that mighty +blow, and Francesco, regaining the whip that lay almost at his feet, +rose up to confront what others there might be. + +From the tank, standing breast-deep in that stinking water, his head +and face grotesquely masked in a vile green slime of putrid vegetation, +Ercole Fortemani bellowed with horrid blasphemy that he would have his +aggressor's blood, but stirred never a foot to take it. Not that he was +by nature wholly a coward; but inspired by a wholesome fear of the +man who could perform such a miracle of strength, he remained out of +Francesco's reach, well in the middle of that square basin, and lustily +roared orders to his men to tear the fellow to pieces. But his men +had seen enough of the Count's methods, and made no advance upon that +stalwart, dauntless figure that stood waiting for them with a whip +which several had already tasted. Huddled together, more like a flock of +frightened sheep than a body of men of war, they stood near the entrance +tower, the mock of Peppe, who from the stone-gallery above--much to +the amusement of Valentina's ladies and two pert pages that were with +him--applauded in high-flown terms their wondrous valour. + +They stirred at last, but it was at Valentina's bidding. She had +been conferring with Gonzaga, who--giving it for his reason that she, +herself, might need protection--had remained beside her, well out of the +fray. She had been urging him to do something, and at last he had obeyed +her, and moved down the short flight of steps into the court; but so +reluctantly and slowly, that with an exclamation of impatience, she +suddenly brushed past him, herself to do the task she had begged of him. +Past Francesco she went, with a word of such commendation of his valour +and a look of such deep admiration, that the blood sprang, responsive, +to his cheek. She paused with a solicitous inquiry for the now risen but +sorely bruised Lanciotto. She flashed an angry look and an angry command +of silence at the great Ercole, still bellowing from his tank, and then, +within ten paces of his followers, she halted, and with wrathful mien, +and hand outstretched towards their captain, she bade them arrest him. + +That sudden, unexpected order struck dumb the vociferous Fortemani. He +ceased, and gaped at his men, who eyed one another now in doubt; but the +doubt was quickly dispelled by the lady's own words: + +"You will make him prisoner, and conduct him to the guardroom, or I +will have you and him swept out of my castle," she informed them, as +confidently as though she had a hundred men-at-arms to do her bidding on +them. + +A pace or so behind her stood the lily-cheeked Gonzaga, gnawing his lip, +timid and conjecturing. Behind him again loomed the stalwart height +of Francesco del Falco with, at his side, Lanciotto, of mien almost as +resolute as his own. + +That was the full force with which the lady spoke of sweeping them--as +if they had been so much foulness--from Roccaleone, unless they did +her bidding. They were still hesitating, when the Count advanced to +Valentina's side. + +"You have heard the choice our lady gives you," he said sternly. "Let +us know whether you will obey or disobey. This choice that is yours now, +may not be yours again. But if you elect to disobey Madonna, the gate is +behind you, the bridge still down. Get you gone!" + +Furtively, from under lowering brows, Gonzaga darted a look of impotent +malice at the Count. Whatever issue had the affair, this man must not +remain in Roccaleone. He was too strong, too dominant, and he would +render himself master of the place by no other title than that strength +of his and that manner of command which Gonzaga accounted a coarse, +swashbuckling bully's gift, but would have given much to be possessed +of. Of how strong and dominant indeed he was never had Francesco offered +a more signal proof. Those men, bruised and maltreated by him, would +beyond doubt have massed together and made short work of one less +dauntless but when a mighty courage such as his goes hand-in-hand with +the habit of command, such hinds as they can never long withstand it. +They grumbled something among themselves, and one of them at last made +answer: + +"Noble sir, it is our captain that we are bidden to arrest." + +"True; but your captain, like yourselves, is in this lady's pay; and +she, your true, your paramount commander, bids you arrest him." And now, +whilst yet they hesitated, his quick wits flung them the bait that must +prove most attractive. "He has shown himself to-day unfitted for the +command entrusted him and it may become a question, when he has been +judged, of choosing one of you to fill the place he may leave empty." + +Hinds were they in very truth; the scum of the bravi that haunted the +meanest borgo of Urbino. Their hesitation vanished, and such slight +loyalty as they felt towards Ercole was overruled by the prospect of his +position and his pay, should his disgrace become accomplished. + +They called upon him to come forth from his refuge, where he still +stood, dumb and stricken at this sudden turn events had taken. He +sullenly refused to obey the call to yield, until Francesco--who now +assumed command with a readiness that galled Gonzaga more and more--bade +one of them go fetch an arquebuse and shoot the dog. At that he cried +out for mercy, and came wading to the edge of the tank swearing that +if the immersion had not drowned him, it were a miracle but he was +poisoned. + +Thus closed an incident that had worn a mighty ugly look, and it served +to open Valentina's eyes to the true quality of the men Gonzaga had +hired her. Maybe that it opened his own for that amiable lute-thrummer +was green of experience in these matters. She bade Gonzaga care for +Francesco, and called one of the grinning pages from the gallery to be +his esquire. A room was placed at his disposal for the little time that +he might spend at Roccaleone, whilst she debated what her course should +be. + +A bell tolled in the far southern wing of the castle, beyond the second +courtyard, and summoned her to chapel, for there Fra Domenico said Mass +each morning. And so she took her leave of Francesco, saying she +would pray Heaven to direct her to a wise choice, whether to fly from +Roccaleone, or whether to remain and ward off the onslaught of Gian +Maria. + +Francesco, attended by Gonzaga and the page, repaired to a handsome room +under the Lion's Tower, which rose upon the south-eastern angle of the +fortress. His windows overlooked the second, or inner, courtyard, across +which Valentina and her ladies were now speeding on their way to Mass. + +Gonzaga made shift to stifle the resentment that he felt against this +man, in whom he saw an interloper, and strove to treat him with the +courtesy that was his due. He would even have gone the length of +discussing with him the situation--prompted by a certain mistrust, and +cunningly eager to probe the real motive that had brought this stranger +to interest himself in the affairs of Valentina. But Francesco, wearily, +yet with an unimpeachable politeness, staved him off, and requested +that Lanciotto might be sent to attend him. Seeing the futility of +his endeavours, Gonzaga withdrew in increased resentment, but with a +heightened sweetness of smile and profoundness of courtesies. + +He went below to issue orders for the raising of the bridge, and finding +the men singularly meek and tractable after the sharp lesson Francesco +had read them, he vented upon them some of the vast ill-humour that +possessed him. Next he passed on to his own apartments, and there he sat +himself by a window overlooking the castle gardens, with his unpleasant +thoughts for only company. + +But presently his mood lightened and he took courage, for he could +be very brave when peril was remote. It was best, he reflected, that +Valentina should leave Roccaleone. Such was the course he would advise +and urge. Naturally, he would go with her, and so he might advance his +suit as well elsewhere as in that castle. On the other hand, if she +remained, why, so would he, and, after all, what if Gian Maria came? +As Francesco had said, the siege could not be protracted, thanks to the +tangled affairs of Babbiano. Soon Gian Maria would be forced to turn him +homeward, to defend his Duchy. If, then, for a little while they could +hold him in check, all would yet be well. Surely he had been over-quick +to despond. + +He rose and stretched himself with indolent relish, then pushing wide +his casement, he leaned out to breathe the morning air. A soft laugh +escaped him. He had been a fool indeed to plague himself with fears when +he had first heard of Gian Maria's coming. Properly viewed, it became a +service Gian Maria did him--whether they remained, or whether they went. +Love has no stronger promoter than a danger shared, and a week of such +disturbances as Gian Maria was likely to occasion them should do more +to advance his suit than he might hope to achieve in a whole month of +peaceful wooing. Then the memory of Francesco set a wrinkle 'twixt his +brows, and he bethought him how taken Valentina had been with the fellow +when first she had beheld him at Acquasparta, and of how, as she +rode that day, she had seen naught but the dark eyes of this Knight +Francesco. + +"Knight Francesco of what or where?" he muttered to himself. "Bah! A +nameless, homeless adventurer; a swashbuckling bully, reeking of blood +and leather, and fit to drive such a pack as Fortemani's. But with a +lady--what shalt such an oaf attain, how shall he prevail?" He laughed +the incipient jealousy to scorn, and his brow grew clear, for now he was +in an optimistic mood--perhaps a reaction from his recent tremors. +"Yet, by the Host!" he pursued, bethinking him of the amazing boldness +Francesco had shown in the courtyard, "he has the strength of Hercules, +and a way with him that makes him feared and obeyed. Pish!" he laughed +again, as, turning, he unhooked his lute from where it hung upon the +wall. "The by-blow of some condottiero, who blends with his father's +bullying arrogance the peasant soul of his careless mother. And I fear +that such a one as that shall touch the heart of my peerless Valentina? +Why, it is a thought that does her but poor honour." + +And dismissing Francesco from his mind, he sought the strings with his +fingers, and thrummed an accompaniment as he returned to the window, his +voice, wondrous sweet and tender, breaking into a gentle love-song. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. THE MERCY OF FRANCESCO + + +Monna Valentina and her ladies dined at noon in a small chamber opening +from the great hall, and thither were bidden Francesco and Gonzaga. The +company was waited upon by the two pages, whilst Fra Domenico, with +a snow-white apron girt about his portentous waist, brought up the +steaming viands from the kitchen where he had prepared them; for, like +a true conventual, he was something of a master in the confection--and a +very glutton in the consumption--of delectable comestibles. The kitchen +was to him as the shrine of some minor cult, and if his breviary +and beads commanded from him the half of the ecstatic fervour of his +devotions to pot and pan, to cauldron and to spit, then was canonisation +indeed assured him. + +He set before them that day a dinner than which a better no prince +commanded, unless it were the Pope. There were ortolans, shot in the +valley, done with truffles, that made the epicurean Gonzaga roll his +eyes, translated through the medium of his palate into a very paradise +of sensual delight. There was a hare, trapped on the hillside, and +stewed in Malmsey, of a flavour so delicate that Gonzaga was regretting +him his heavy indulgence in the ortolans; there was trout, fresh caught +in the stream below, and a wondrous pasty that turned liquid in the +mouth. To wash down these good things there was stout red wine of Puglia +and more delicate Malvasia, for in his provisioning of the fortress +Gonzaga had contrived that, at least, they should not go thirsty. + +"For a garrison awaiting siege you fare mighty well at Roccaleone," was +Francesco's comment on that excellent repast. + +It was the fool who answered him. He sat out of sight upon the floor, +hunched against the chair of one of Valentina's ladies, who now and +again would toss him down a morsel from her plate, much as she might +have treated a favourite hound. + +"You have the friar to thank for it," said he, in a muffled voice, for +his mouth was crammed with pasty. "Let me be damned when I die, if I +make him not my confessor. The man who can so minister to bodies should +deal amazingly well with souls. Fra Domenico, you shall confess me after +sunset." + +"You need me not," answered the monk, in disdainful wrath. "There is a +beatitude for such as you--'Blessed are the poor in spirit.'" + +"And is there no curse for such as you?" flashed back the fool. "Does it +say nowhere--'Damned are the gross of flesh, the fat and rotund gluttons +who fashion themselves a god of their own bellies'?" + +With his sandalled foot the friar caught the fool a surreptitious kick. + +"Be still, you adder, you bag of venom." + +Fearing worse, the fool gathered himself up. + +"Beware!" he cried shrilly. "Bethink you, friar, that anger is a +cardinal sin. Beware, I say!" + +Fra Domenico checked his upraised hand, and fell to muttering scraps of +Latin, his lids veiling his suddenly down-cast eyes. Thus Peppe gained +the door. + +"Say, friar; in my ear, now--Was that a hare you stewed, or an outworn +sandal?" + +"Now, God forgive me," roared the monk, springing towards him. + +"For your cooking? Aye, pray--on your knees." He dodged a blow, ducked, +and doubled back into the room. "A cook, you? Pish! you tun of convent +lard! Your ortolans were burnt, your trout swam in grease, your +pasty----" + +What the pasty may have been the company was not to learn, for Fra +Domenico, crimson of face, had swooped down upon the fool, and would +have caught him but that he dived under the table by Valentina's skirts, +and craved her protection from this gross maniac that held himself a +cook. + +"Now, hold your wrath, father," she said, laughing with the rest. "He +does but plague you. Bear with him for the sake of that beautitude you +cited, which has fired him to reprisals." + +Mollified, but still grumbling threats of a beating to be bestowed on +Peppe when the opportunity should better serve him, the friar turned to +his domestic duties. They rose soon after, and at Gonzaga's suggestion +Valentina paused in the great hall to issue orders that Fortemani be +brought before her for judgment. In a score of ways, since their coming +to Roccaleone, had Ercole been wanting in that respect to which Gonzaga +held himself entitled, and this opportunity he seized with eagerness to +vent his vindictive rancour. + +Valentina begged of Francesco that he, too, would stay, and help them +with his wide experience, a phrase that sent an unpleasant pang through +the heart of Romeo Gonzaga. It was perhaps as much to assert himself +as to gratify his rancour against Fortemani, that, having despatched a +soldier to fetch the prisoner, he turned to suggest curtly that Ercole +should be hanged at once. + +"What boots a trial?" he demanded. "We were all witnesses of his +insubordination, and for that there can be but one punishment. Let the +animal hang!" + +"But the trial is of your own suggestion," she protested. + +"Nay, Madonna. I but suggested judgment. It is since you have begged +Messer Francesco, here, to assist us that I opine you mean to give the +knave a trial." + +"Would you credit this dear Gonzaga with so much bloodthirstiness?" she +asked Francesco. "Do you, sir, share his opinion that the captain should +hang unheard? I fear me you do, for, from what I have seen of them, your +ways do not incline to gentleness." + +Gonzaga smiled, gathering from that sentence how truly she apprised the +coarse nature of this stranger. Francesco's answer surprised them. + +"Nay, I hold Messer Gonzaga's an ill counsel. Show mercy to Fortemani +now, where he expects none, and you will have made a faithful servant of +him. I know his kind." + +"Ser Francesco speaks without the knowledge that we have, Madonna," +was Gonzaga's rude comment. "An example must be made if we would have +respect and orderliness from these men." + +"Then make it an example of mercy," suggested Francesco sweetly. + +"Well, we shall see," was Valentina's answer. "I like your counsel, +Messer Francesco, and yet I see a certain wisdom in Gonzaga's words. +Though in such a case as this I would sooner consort with folly than +have a man's death upon my conscience. But here he comes, and, at least, +we'll give him trial. Maybe he is penitent by now." + +Gonzaga sneered, and took his place on the right of Valentina's chair, +Francesco standing on her left; and in this fashion they disposed +themselves to hold judgment upon the captain of her forces. + +He was brought in between two mailed men-at-arms, his hands pinioned +behind him, his tread heavy as that of a man in fear, his eyes directed +sullenly upon the waiting trio, but sullenest of all upon Francesco, who +had so signally encompassed his discomfiture. Valentina spread a hand +to Gonzaga, and from Gonzaga waved it slightly in the direction of the +Bully. Responsive to that gesture, Gonzaga faced the pinioned captain +truculently. + +"You know your offence, knave," he bawled at him. "Have you aught to +urge that may deter us from hanging you?" + +Fortemani raised his brows a moment in surprise at this ferocity from +one whom he had always deemed a very woman. Then he uttered a laugh of +such contempt that the colour sprang to Gonzaga's cheek. + +"Take him out----" he began furiously, when Valentina interposed, +setting a hand upon his arm. + +"Nay, nay, Gonzaga, your methods are all wrong. Tell him---- Nay, I will +question him myself. Messer Fortemani, you have been guilty of an act of +gross abuse. You and your men were hired for me by Messer Gonzaga, and +to you was given the honourable office of captain over them, that you +might lead them in this service of mine in the ways of duty, submission, +and loyalty. Instead of that, you were the instigator of that outrage +this morning, when murder was almost done upon an inoffensive man who +was my guest. What have you to say?" + +"That I was not the instigator," he answered sullenly. + +"It is all one," she returned, "for at least it was done with your +sanction, and you took a share in that cruel sport, instead of +restraining it, as was clearly your duty. It is upon you, the captain, +that the responsibility rests." + +"Lady," he explained, "they are wild souls, but very true." + +"True to their wildness, maybe," she answered him disdainfully. Then she +proceeded: "You will remember that twice before has Messer Gonzaga had +occasion to admonish you. These last two nights your men have behaved +riotously within my walls. There has been hard drinking, there has been +dicing, and such brawling once or twice as led me to think there would +be throats cut among your ranks. You were warned by Messer Gonzaga to +hold your followers in better leash, and yet to-day, without so much as +drunkenness to excuse them, we have this vile affair, with yourself for +a ringleader in it." + +There followed a pause, during which Ercole stood with bent head like +one who thinks, and Francesco turned his wonder-laden glance upon this +slight girl with the gentle brown eyes which had been so tender and +pitiful. Marvelling at the greatness of her spirit, he grew--all +unconsciously--the more enslaved. + +Gonzaga, all unconcerned in this, eyed Fortemani in expectation of his +answer. + +"Madonna," said the bully at last, "what can you look for from such a +troop as this? Messer Gonzaga cannot have expected me to enlist acolytes +for a business that he told me bordered upon outlawry. Touching their +drunkenness and the trifle of rioting, what soldiers have not these +faults? When they have them not, neither have they merit. The man that +is tame in times of peace is a skulking woman in times of war. For +the rest, whence came the wine they drank? It was of Messer Gonzaga's +providing." + +"You lie, hound!" blazed Gonzaga. "I provided wine for Madonna's table, +not for the men." + +"Yet some found its way to them; which is well. For water on the stomach +makes a man poor-spirited. Where is the sin of a little indulgence, +Madonna?" he went on, turning again to Valentina. "These men of +mine will prove their mettle when it comes to blows. They are dogs +perhaps--but mastiffs every one of them, and would lose a hundred lives +in your service if they had them." + +"Aye, if they had them," put in Gonzaga sourly; "but having no more than +one apiece, they'll not care to spare it." + +"Nay, there you wrong them," cried Fortemani, with heat. "Give them a +leader strong enough to hold them, to encourage and subject them, and +they will go anywhere at his bidding." + +"And there," put in Gonzaga quickly, "you bring us back to the main +issue. Such a leader you have shown us that you are not. You have done +worse. You have been insubordinate when you should not only have been +orderly, but have enforced orderliness in others. And for that, by my +lights, you should be hanged. Waste no more time on him, Madonna," he +concluded, turning to Valentina. "Let the example be made." + +"But, Madonna----" began Fortemani, paling under the tan of his rugged +countenance. + +Gonzaga silenced him. + +"Your words are vain. You have been insubordinate, and for +insubordination there is but one penalty." + +The bully hung his head, deeming himself lost, and lacking the wit to +retort as Francesco unexpectedly retorted for him. + +"Madonna, there your adviser is at fault. The charge against the man is +wrong. There has been no insubordination." + +"How?" she questioned, turning to the Count. "None, say you?" + +"A Solomon is arisen," sneered Gonzaga. Then peevishly; "Waste not words +with him, Madonna," he pursued. "Our business is with Fortemani." + +"But stay, my good Gonzaga. He may be right." + +"Your heart is over-tender," answered Romeo impatiently. But she had +turned from him now, and was begging Francesco to make his meaning +clearer. + +"Had he raised his hand against you, Madonna, or even against Messer +Gonzaga, or had he disobeyed an order given him by either of you, then, +and then only, could there be question of insubordination. But he has +done none of these things. He is guilty of grossly misusing my servant, +it is true, but there is no insubordination in that, since he was under +no promise of loyalty to Lanciotto." + +They stared at him as though his words were words of recondite wisdom +instead of the simple statement of a plain case. Gonzaga crestfallen, +Fortemani with a light of hope and wonder shining in his eyes, and +Madonna with a faint nodding of the head that argued agreement. They +wrangled a while yet, Gonzaga bitter and vindictive and rashly scornful +of both Francesco and Fortemani. But the Count so resolutely held the +ground he had taken that in the end Valentina shrugged her shoulders, +acknowledged herself convinced, and bade Francesco deliver judgment. + +"You are in earnest, Madonna?" quoth Francesco in surprise, whilst a +black scowl disfigured the serenity of Gonzaga's brow. + +"I am indeed. Deal with him as you account best and most just, and it +shall fare with him precisely as you ordain." + +Francesco turned to the men-at-arms. "Unbind him, one of you," he said +shortly. + +"I believe that you are mad," cried Gonzaga, in a frenzy, but his mood +sprang rather from the chagrin of seeing his interloper prevail where he +had failed. "Madonna, do not heed him." + +"I pray you let be, my good Gonzaga," she answered soothingly, and +Gonzaga, ready to faint from spite, obeyed her. + +"Leave him there, and go," was Paolo's next order to the men, and they +departed, leaving the astonished Fortemani standing alone, unbound and +sheepish. + +"Now mark me well, Messer Fortemani," Francesco admonished him. "You +did a cowardly thing, unworthy of the soldier that you would have men +believe you. And for that, I think, the punishment you received at my +hands has been sufficient, in that the indignity to which I submitted +you has shaken your standing with your followers. Go back to them now +and retrieve what you have lost, and see that in the future you are +worthier. Let this be a lesson to you, Messer Fortemani. You have gone +perilously near hanging, and you have had it proved to you that in +moments of peril your men are ready to raise their hands against you. +Why is that? Because you have not sought their respect. You have been +too much a fellow of theirs in their drinking and their brawling, +instead of holding yourself aloof with dignity." + +"Lord, I have learnt my lesson!" answered the cowed bully. + +"Then act upon it. Resume your command, and discipline your men to a +better order. Madonna, here, and Messer Gonzaga will forget this thing. +Is it not so, Madonna? Is it not so, Messer Gonzaga?" + +Swayed by his will and by an intuition that told her that to whatever +end he might be working, he was working wisely, Valentina gave Fortemani +the assurance Francesco begged, and Gonzaga was forced grudgingly to +follow her example. + +Fortemani bowed low, his face pale and his limbs trembling as not even +fear had made them tremble. He advanced towards Valentina, and sinking +on one knee, he humbly kissed the hem of her gown. + +"Your clemency, Madonna, shall give you no regret. I will serve you to +the death, lady, and you, lord." At the last words he raised his eyes +to Francesco's calm face. Then, without so much as a glance at the +disappointed Gonzaga, he rose, and bowing again--a very courtier--he +withdrew. + +The closing of the door was to Gonzaga a signal to break out in a +torrent of bitter reproofs against Francesco, reproofs that were stemmed +midway by Valentina. + +"You are beside yourself, Gonzaga," she exclaimed. "What has been done, +has been done with my sanction. I do not doubt the wisdom of it." + +"Do you not? God send you never may! But that man will know no peace +until he is avenged on us." + +"Messer Gonzaga," returned Francesco, with an incomparable politeness, +"I am an older man than are you, and maybe that I have seen more warring +and more of such men. There is a certain valour lurks in that bully +for all his blustering boastfulness and swagger, and there is, too, a +certain sense of justice. Mercy he has had to-day, and time will show +how right I am in having pardoned him in Madonna's name. I tell you, +sir, that nowhere has Monna Valentina a more faithful servant than he is +now likely to become." + +"I believe you, Messer Francesco. Indeed, I am sure your act was wisdom +itself." + +Gonzaga gnawed his lip. + +"I may be wrong," said he, in grudging acquiescence. "I hope, indeed, I +may be." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. GONZAGA UNMASKS + + +The four great outer walls of Roccaleone stood ranged into a mighty +square, of which the castle proper occupied but half. The other half, +running from north to south, was a stretch of garden, broken into three +terraces. The highest of these was no more than a narrow alley under +the southern wall, roofed from end to end by a trellis of vines on beams +blackened with age, supported by uprights of granite, square and roughly +hewn. + +A steep flight of granite steps, weedy in the interstices of the old +stone, and terminating in a pair of couchant lions at the base, led down +to the middle terrace, which was called the upper garden. This was split +in twain by a very gallery of gigantic box trees running down towards +the lower terrace, and bearing eloquent witness to the age of that old +garden. Into this gallery no sun ever penetrated by more than a furtive +ray, and on the hottest day in summer a grateful cool dwelt in its green +gloom. Rose gardens spread on either side of it, but neglect of late had +left them rank with weeds. + +The third and lowest of these terraces, which was longer and broader +than either of those above, was no more than a smooth stretch of lawn, +bordered by acacias and plane trees, from the extreme corner of which +sprang a winding, iron-railed staircase of stone, leading to an eerie +which corresponded diagonally with the Lion's Tower, where the Count of +Aquila was lodged. + +On this green lawn Valentina's ladies and a page beguiled the eventide +in a game of bowls, their clumsiness at the unwonted pastime provoking +the good-humoured banter of Peppe, who looked on, and their own still +better-humoured laughter. + +Fortemani, too, was there, brazening out the morning's affair, which it +almost seemed he must have forgotten, so self-possessed and mightily at +his ease was he. He was of the kind with whom shame strikes never very +deeply, and he ruffled it gaily there, among the women, rolling his +fierce eyes to ogle them seductively, tossing his gaudy new cloak with +a high-born disdain--gloriously conscious that it would not rend in +the tossing, like the cloaks to which grim Circumstance had lately +accustomed him--and strutting it like any cock upon a dunghill. + +But the lesson he had learnt was not likely to share the same +forgetfulness. Indeed, its fruits were to be observed already in the +more orderly conduct of his men, four of whom, partisan on shoulder, +were doing duty on the walls of the castle. They had greeted his return +amongst them with sneers and derisive allusions to his immersion, but +with a few choicely-aimed blows he had cuffed the noisiest into silence +and a more subservient humour. He had spoken to them in a rasping, +truculent tone, issuing orders that he meant should be obeyed, unless +the disobeyer were eager for a reckoning with him. + +Indeed, he was an altered man, and when that night his followers, having +drunk what he accounted enough for their good, and disregarding his +orders that they should desist and get them to bed, he went in quest +of Monna Valentina. He found her in conversation with Francesco and +Gonzaga, seated in the loggia of the dining-room. They had been there +since supper, discussing the wisdom of going or remaining, of fleeing +or standing firm to receive Gian Maria. Their conference was interrupted +now by Ercole with his complaint. + +She despatched Gonzaga to quell the men, a course that Fortemani +treated to a covert sneer. The fop went rejoicing at this proof that +her estimate of his commanding qualities had nowise suffered by contrast +with those of that swashbuckling Francesco. But his pride rode him to a +bitter fall. + +They made a mock of his remonstrances, and when he emulated Francesco's +methods, addressing them with sharp ferocity, and dubbing them beasts +and swine, they caught the false ring of his fierceness, which was +as unlike the true as the ring of lead is unlike that of silver. They +jeered him insults, they mimicked his tenor voice, which excitement +had rendered shrill, and they bade him go thrum a lute for his lady's +delectation, and leave men's work to men. + +His anger rose, and they lost patience; and from showing their teeth +in laughter, they began to show them in snarls. At this his ferocity +deserted him. Brushing past Fortemani, who stood cold and contemptuous +by the doorway, watching the failure he had expected, he returned with +burning cheeks and bitter words to Madonna Valentina. + +She was dismayed at the tale he bore her, magnified to cover his own +shame. Francesco sat quietly drumming on the sill, his eyes upon the +moonlit garden below, and never by word or sign suggesting that he might +succeed where Romeo had failed. At last she turned to him. + +"Could you----?" she began, and stopped, her eyes wandering back to +Gonzaga, loath to further wound a pride that was very sore already. On +the instant Francesco rose. + +"I might try, Madonna," he said quietly, "although Messer Gonzaga's +failure gives me little hope. And yet, it may be that he has taken the +keen edge from their assurance, and that, thus, an easier task awaits +me. I will try, Madonna." And with that he went. + +"He will succeed, Gonzaga," she said, after he had gone. "He is a man of +war, and knows the words to which these fellows have no answer." + +"I wish him well of his errand," sneered Gonzaga, his pretty face white +now with sullenness. "And I'll wager you he fails." + +But Valentina disdained the offer whose rashness was more than +proven when, at the end of some ten minutes, Francesco re-entered, as +imperturbable as when he went. + +"They are quiet now, Madonna," he announced. + +She looked at him questioningly. "How did you accomplish it?" she +inquired. + +"I had a little difficulty," he said, "yet not over-much." His eye roved +to Gonzaga, and he smiled. "Messer Gonzaga is too gentle with them. Too +true a courtier to avail himself of the brutality that is necessary +when we deal with brutes. You should not disdain to use your hands upon +them," he admonished the fop in all seriousness, and without a trace of +irony. Nor did Gonzaga suspect any. + +"I, soil my hands on that vermin?" he cried, in a voice of horror. "I +would die sooner." + +"Or else soon after," squeaked Peppe, who had entered unobserved. +"Patrona mia, you should have seen this paladin," he continued, coming +forward. "Why, Orlando was never half so furious as he when he stood +there telling them what manner of dirt they were, and bidding them to +bed ere he drove them with a broomstick." + +"And they went?" she asked. + +"Not at first," said the fool. "They had drunk enough to make them very +brave, and one who was very drunk was so brave as to assault him. But +Ser Francesco fells him with his hands, and calling Fortemani he bids +him have the man dropped in a dungeon to grow sober. Then, without +waiting so much as to see his orders carried out, he stalks away, +assured that no more was needed. Nor was it. They rose up, muttering +a curse or two, maybe--yet not so loud that it might reach the ears of +Fortemani--and got themselves to bed." + +She looked again at Francesco with admiring eyes, and spoke of his +audacity in commending terms. This he belittled; but she persisted. + +"You have seen much warring, sir," she half-asked, half-asserted. + +"Why, yes, Madonna." + +And here the writhing Gonzaga espied his opportunity. + +"I do not call to mind your name, good sir," he purred. + +Francesco half-turned towards him, and for all that his mind was working +with a lightning quickness, his face was indolently calm. To disclose +his true identity he deemed unwise, for all connected with the Sforza +brood must earn mistrust at the hands of Valentina. It was known that +the Count of Aquila stood high in the favour of Gian Maria, and the news +of his sudden fall and banishment could not have reached Guidobaldo's +niece, who had fled before the knowledge of it was in Urbino. His name +would awaken suspicion, and any story of disgrace and banishment might +be accounted the very mask to fit a spy. There was this sleek, venomous +Gonzaga, whom she trusted and relied on, to whisper insidiously into her +ear. + +"My name," he said serenely, "is, as I have told you. Francesco." + +"But you have another?" quoth Valentina, interest prompting the +question. + +"Why, yes, but so closely allied to the first as to be scarce worth +reciting. I am Francesco Franceschi, a wandering knight." + +"And a true one, as I know." She smiled at him so sweetly that Gonzaga +was enraged. + +"I have not heard the name before," he murmured, adding: + +"Your father was----?" + +"A gentleman of Tuscany." + +"But not at Court?" suggested Romeo. + +"Why, yes, at Court." + +Then with a sly insolence that brought the blood to Francesco's cheeks, +though to the chaste mind of Valentina's it meant nothing--"Ah!" he +rejoined. "But then, your mother----?" + +"Was more discriminating, sir, than yours," came the sharp answer, and +from the shadows the fool's smothered burst of laughter added gall to +it. + +Gonzaga rose heavily, drawing a sharp breath, and the two men stabbed +each other with their eyes. Valentina, uncomprehending, looked from one +to the other. + +"Sirs, sirs, what have you said?" she cried. "Why all this war of +looks?" + +"He is over-quick to take offence, Madonna, for an honest man," was +Gonzaga's answer. "Like the snake in the grass, he is very ready with +his sting when we seek to disclose him." + +"For shame, Gonzaga," she cried, now rising too. "What are you saying? +Are you turned witless? Come, sirs, since you are both my friends, be +friends each with the other." + +"Most perfect syllogism!" murmured the fool, unheeded. + +"And you, Messer Francesco, forget his words. He means them not. He is +very hot of fancy, but sweet at heart, this good Gonzaga." + +On the instant the cloud lifted from Francesco's brow. + +"Why, since you ask me," he answered, inclining his head, "if he'll but +say he meant no malice by his words, I will confess as much for mine." + +Gonzaga, cooling, saw that haply he had gone too fast, and was the +readier to make amends. Yet in his bosom he nursed an added store of +poison, a breath of which escaped him as he was leaving Valentina, and +after Francesco had already gone: + +"Madonna," he muttered, "I mistrust that man." + +"Mistrust him? Why?" she asked, frowning despite her faith in the +magnificent Romeo. + +"I know not why; but it is here. I feel it." And with his hand he +touched the region of his heart. "Say that he is no spy, and call me a +fool." + +"Why, I'll do both," she laughed. Then more sternly, added: "Get you to +bed, Gonzaga. Your wits play you false. Peppino, call my ladies." + +In the moment that they were left alone he stepped close up to her, +spurred to madness by the jealous pangs he had that day endured. His +face gleamed white in the candlelight, and in his eyes there was a +lurking fierceness that gave her pause. + +"Have your way, Madonna," he said, in a concentrated voice; "but +to-morrow, whether we go hence, or whether we stay, he remains not with +us." + +She drew herself up to the full of her slender, graceful height, her +eyes on a level with Gonzaga's own. + +"That," she answered, "is as shall be decreed by me or him." + +He breathed sharply, and his voice hardened beyond belief in one usually +so gentle of tone and manner. + +"Be warned, Madonna," he muttered, coming so close that with the +slightest swaying she must touch him, "that if this nameless sbirro +shall ever dare to stand 'twixt you and me, by God and His saints, I'll +kill him! Be warned, I say." + +And the door re-opening at that moment, he fell back, bowed, and +brushing past the entering ladies, gained the threshold. Here someone +tugged at the prodigious foliated sleeves that spread beside him on the +air like the wings of a bird. He turned, and saw Peppino motioning him +to lower his head. + +"A word in your ear, Magnificent. There was a man once went out for wool +that came back shorn." + +Angrily cuffing the fool aside, he was gone. + +Valentina sank down upon her window-seat, in a turmoil of mingled anger +and amazement that paled her cheek and set her bosom heaving. It was the +first hint of his aims respecting her that Gonzaga had ever dared let +fall, and the condition in which it left her boded ill for his ultimate +success. Her anger he could have borne, had he beheld it, for he would +have laid it to the score of the tone he had taken with her. But her +incredulity that he could indeed have dared to mean that which her +senses told her he had meant, would have shown him how hopeless was his +case and how affronted, how outraged in soul she had been left by this +moment of passionate self-revealing. He would have understood then +that in her eyes he never had been, was never like to be, aught but a +servant--and one, hereafter, that, deeming presumptuous, she would keep +at greater distance. + +But he, dreaming little of this as he paced his chamber, smiled at his +thoughts, which flowed with ready optimism. He had been a fool to give +way so soon, perhaps. The season was not yet; the fruit was not ripe +enough for plucking; still, what should it signify that he had given +the tree a slight premonitory shake? A little premature, perhaps, but +it would predispose the fruit to fall. He bethought him of her +never-varying kindness to him, her fond gentleness, and he lacked the +wit to see that this was no more than the natural sweetness that flowed +from her as freely as flows the perfume from the flower--because Nature +has so fashioned it, and not because Messer Gonzaga likes the smell. +Lacking that wit, he went in blissful confidence to bed, and smiled +himself softly to his sleep. + +Away in the room under the Lion's Tower, the Count of Aquila, too, paced +his chamber ere he sought his couch, and in his pacing caught sight +of something that arrested his attention, and provoked a smile. In a +corner, among his harness which Lanciotto had piled there, his shield +threw back the light, displaying the Sforza lion quartered with the +Aquila eagle. + +"Did my sweet Gonzaga get a glimpse of that he would have no further +need to pry into my parentage," he mused. And dragging the escutcheon +from amongst that heap of armour, he softly opened his window and flung +it far out, so that it dropped with a splash into the moat. That done, +he went to bed, and he, too, fell asleep with a smile upon his lips, +and in his mind a floating vision of Valentina. She needed a strong and +ready hand to guide her in this rebellion against the love-at-arms of +Gian Maria, and that hand he swore should be his, unless she scorned +the offer of it. And so, murmuring her name with a lingering fervour, of +whose true significance he was all-nescient, he sank to sleep, nor +waked again until a thundering at his door aroused him. And to his still +dormant senses came the voice of Lanciotto, laden with hurry and alarm. + +"Awake, lord! Up, afoot! We are beset." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. THE ENEMY + + +The Count leapt from his bed, and hastened to throw wide the door to +admit his servant, who with excited face and voice bore him the news +that Gian Maria had reached Roccaleone in the night, and was now +encamped in the plain before the castle. + +He was still at his tale when a page came with the message that Monna +Valentina besought Messer Francesco's presence in the great hall. +He dressed in all haste, and then, with Lanciotto at his heels, he +descended to answer her summons. As he crossed the second courtyard +he beheld Valentina's ladies grouped upon the chapel-steps in excited +discussion of this happening with Fra Domenico, who, in full canonicals, +was waiting to say the morning's Mass. He gave them a courteous "Good +morrow," and passed on to the banqueting-hall, leaving Lanciotto +without. + +Here he found Valentina in conference with Fortemani. She was pacing +the great room as she talked; but, beyond that, there was no sign of +excitement in her bearing, and if any fear of the issue touched her +heart now that the moment for action was at hand, it was wondrously +well-suppressed. At sight of Francesco, a look that was partly dismay +and partly pleasure lighted her face. She greeted him with such a smile +as she would bestow in that hour upon none but a trusted friend. Then, +with a look of regret: + +"I am beyond measure grieved, sir, that you should thus stand committed +to my fortunes. They will have told you that already we are besieged, +and so you will see how your fate is now bound up with ours. For I fear +me there is no road hence for you until Gian Maria raises this siege. +The choice of going or remaining is no longer mine. We must remain, and +fight this battle out." + +"At least, lady," he answered readily, gaily almost, "I cannot share +your regrets for me. The act of yours may be a madness, Madonna, but it +is the bravest, sweetest madness that ever was, and I shall be proud to +play my part if you'll assign me one." + +"But, sir, I have no claim upon you!" + +"The claim that every beset lady has upon a true knight," he assured +her. "I could ask no better employment for these arms of mine than in +your defence against the Duke of Babbiano. I am at your service, and +with a glad heart, Monna Valentina. I have seen something of war, and +you may find me useful." + +"Make him Provost of Roccaleone, Madonna," urged Fortemani, whose +gratitude to the man who had saved his life was blent with an admiring +appreciation of his powers, of which the bully had had such practical +experience. + +"You hear what Ercole says?" she cried, turning to Francesco with a +sudden eagerness that showed how welcome that suggestion was. + +"It were too great an honour," he answered solemnly. "Yet, if you were +to place in my hands that trust, I would defend it to my last breath." + +And then, before she could answer him, Gonzaga entered by the side-door, +and frowned to see Francesco there before him. He was a trifle pale, +he carried his cloak on the right shoulder, instead of the left, and in +general his apparel was less meticulous than usual, and showed signs of +hasty donning. With a curt nod to the Count, and an utter ignoring of +Fortemani--who was scowling upon him in memory of yesterday--he bowed +low before Valentina. + +"I am distraught, Madonna----" he began, when she cut him short. + +"You have little cause to be. Have things fallen out other than we +expected?" + +"Perhaps not. Yet I had hoped that Gian Maria would not allow his humour +to carry him so far." + +"You had hoped that--after the message Messer Francesco brought us?" +And she looked him over with an eye of sudden understanding. "Yet you +expressed no such hope when you advised this flight to Roccaleone. You +were all for fighting then. A martial ardour consumed you. Whence this +change? Is it the imminence of danger that gives it a reality too grim +for your appetite?" + +There was a scorn in her words that wounded him as she meant it should. +His last night's rashness had shown her the need to leave him in no +false opinion of the extent of her esteem, and, in addition, those last +words of his had shown him revealed in a new light, and she liked him +the less by it. + +He inclined his head slightly, shame blazing red in his cheeks, that +he should be thus reproved before Fortemani and that upstart Francesco. +That Francesco was an upstart was no longer a matter of surmise with +him. His soul assured him of it. + +"Madonna," he said, with some show of dignity, ignoring her gibes, "I +came to bear you news that a herald from Gian Maria craves a hearing. +Shall I hold parley with him for you?" + +"You are too good," she answered sweetly. "I will hear the man myself." + +He bowed submissively, and then his eye moved to Francesco. + +"We might arrange with him for the safe-conduct of this gentleman," he +suggested. + +"There is no hope they would accord it," she answered easily. "Nor could +I hope so if they would, for Messer Francesco has consented to fill +the office of Provost of Roccaleone. But we are keeping the messenger +waiting. Sirs, will you attend me to the ramparts?" + +They bowed, and followed her, Gonzaga coming last, his tread heavy as a +drunkard's, his face white to the lips in the bitter rage with which he +saw himself superseded, and read his answer to the hot words that last +night he had whispered in Valentina's ear. + +As they crossed the courtyard Francesco discharged the first act of his +new office in ordering a half-dozen men-at-arms to fall in behind them, +to the end that they might make some show upon the wall when they came +to parley with the herald. + +They found a tall man on a tall, grey horse, whose polished helm shone +like silver in the morning sun, and whose haubergeon was almost hidden +under a crimson tabard ornamented with the Sforza lion. He bowed low as +Valentina appeared, followed by her escort, foremost in which stood the +Count of Aquila, his broad castor pulled down upon his brow, so that it +left his face in shadow. + +"In the name of my master, the High and Mighty Lord Gian Maria Sforza, +Duke of Babbiano, I call upon you to yield, lady, laying down your arms +and throwing open your gates." + +There followed a pause, at the end of which she asked him was that the +sum of his message, or was there something that he had forgotten. +The herald, bowing gracefully upon the arched neck of his caracoling +palfrey, answered her that what he had said was all he had been bidden +say. + +She turned with a bewildered and rather helpless look to those behind +her. She wished that the matter might be conducted with due dignity, +and her convent rearing left her in doubt of how this might best be +achieved. She addressed herself to Francesco. + +"Will you give him his answer, my Lord Provost," she said, with a +smile, and Francesco, stepping forward and leaning on a merlon of that +embattled wall, obeyed her. + +"Sir Herald," he said, in a gruff voice that was unlike his own, "will +you tell me since when has the Duke of Babbiano been at war with +Urbino that he should thus beset one of its fortresses, and demand the +surrender of it?" + +"His Highness," replied the herald, "is acting with the full sanction of +the Duke of Urbino in sending this message to the Lady Valentina della +Rovere." + +At that Valentina elbowed the Count aside, and forgetting her purpose of +conducting this affair with dignity, she let her woman's tongue deliver +the answer of her heart. + +"This message, sir, and the presence here of your master, is but another +of the impertinences that I have suffered at his hands, and it is the +crowning one. Take you that message back to him, and tell him that when +I am instructed by what right he dares to send you upon such an errand, +I may render him an answer more germane with his challenge." + +"Would you prefer, Madonna, that his Highness should come himself to +speak with you?" + +"There is nothing I should prefer less. Already has necessity compelled +me to have more to say to Gian Maria than I could have wished." And +with a proud gesture she signified that the audience was at an end, and +turned to quit the wall. + +She had a brief conference with Francesco, during which he consulted her +as to certain measures of defence to be taken, and made suggestions, +to all of which she agreed, her hopes rising fast to see that here, at +least, she had a man with knowledge of the work to which he had set his +hand. It lightened her heart and gave her a glad confidence to look on +that straight, martial figure, the hand so familiarly resting on the +hilt of the sword that seemed a part of him, and the eyes so calm; +whilst when he spoke of perils, they seemed to dwindle 'neath the +disdain of them so manifest in his tone. + +With Fortemani at his heels he went about the execution of the measures +he had suggested, the bully following him now with the faithful wonder +of a dog for its master, realising that here, indeed, was a soldier of +fortune by comparison with whom the likes of himself were no better than +camp-followers. Confidence, too, did Ercole gather from that magnetism +of Francesco's unfaltering confidence; for he seemed to treat the matter +as a great jest, a comedy played for the Duke of Babbiano and at +that same Duke's expense. And just as Francesco's brisk tone breathed +confidence into Fortemani and Valentina, so, too, did it breathe it into +Fortemani's wretched followers. They grew zestful in the reflection of +his zest, and out of admiration for him they came to admire the business +on which they were engaged, and, finally, to take a pride in the part he +assigned to each of them. Within an hour there was such diligent +bustle in Roccaleone, such an air of grim gaiety and high spirits, that +Valentina, observing it, wondered what manner of magician was this she +had raised to the command of her fortress, who in so little time could +work so marvellous a change in the demeanour of her garrison. + +Once only did Francesco's light-heartedness fail him, and this was when, +upon visiting the armoury, he found but one single cask of gunpowder +stored there. He turned to Fortemani to inquire where Gonzaga had +bestowed it, and Fortemani being as ignorant as himself upon the subject +he went forthwith in quest of Gonzaga. After ransacking the castle +for him, he found him pacing the vine-alley in the garden in animated +conversation with Valentina. At his approach the courtier's manner grew +more subdued, and his brows sullen. + +"Messer Gonzaga," Francesco hailed him. The courtier, surprised, looked +up. "Where have you hidden your store of powder?" + +"Powder?" faltered Gonzaga, chilled by a sudden apprehension. "Is there +none in the armoury?" + +"Yes--one small cask, enough to load a cannon once or twice, leaving us +nothing for our hand-guns. Is that your store?" + +"If that is all there is in the armoury, that is all we have." + +Franceseo stood speechless, staring at him, a dull flush creeping into +his cheeks. In that moment of wrath he forgot their positions, and gave +never a thought to the smarting that must be with Gonzaga at the loss of +rank he had suffered since Valentina had appointed a provost. + +"And are these your methods of fortifying Roccaleone?" he asked, in a +voice that cut like a knife. "You have laid in good store of wine, a +flock of sheep, and endless delicacies, sir," he jeered. "Did you expect +to pelt the enemy with these, or did you reckon upon no enemy at all?" + +Now this question touched so closely upon the truth, that it fired in +Gonzaga's bosom an anger that for the moment made a man of him. It was +the last breath that blew into a blaze the smouldering wrath he carried +in his soul. + +His retort came fierce and hot. It was as unmeasured and contemptuous as +Francesco's erst recriminations, and it terminated in a challenge to +the Count to meet him on horse or foot, with sword or lance, and that as +soon as might be. + +But Valentina intervened, and rebuked them both. Yet to Francesco her +rebuke was courteous, and ended in a prayer that he should do the +best with such resources as Roccaleone offered; to Gonzaga it was +contemptuous in the last degree, for Francesco's question--which Gonzaga +had left unanswered--coming at a moment when she was full of suspicions +of Gonzaga, and the ends he had sought to serve in advising her upon a +course which he had since shown himself so utterly unfitted to guide, +had opened wide her eyes. She remembered how strangely moved he had been +upon learning yesterday that Gian Maria was marching upon Roccaleone, +and how ardently he had advised flight from the fortress--he that had so +bravely talked of holding it against the Duke. + +They were still wrangling there in a most unseemly fashion when a +trumpet-blast reached them from beyond the walls. + +"The herald again," she cried. "Come, Messer Francesco, let us hear what +fresh message he brings." + +She led Francesco away, leaving Gonzaga in the shadow of the vines, +reduced well-nigh to tears in the extremity of his mortification. + +The herald was returned with the announcement that Valentina's answer +left Gian Maria no alternative but to await the arrival of Duke +Guidobaldo, who was then marching to join him. The Duke of Urbino's +presence would be, he thought, ample justification in her eyes for the +challenge Gian Maria had sent, and which he would send again when her +uncle arrived to confirm it. + +Thereafter, the remainder of the day was passed in peace at Roccaleone, +if we except the very hell of unrest that surged in the heart of Romeo +Gonzaga. He sat disregarded at supper that evening, save by Valentina's +ladies and the fool, who occasionally rallied him upon his glumness. +Valentina herself turned her whole attention to the Count, and whilst +Gonzaga--Gonzaga, the poet of burning fancy, the gay songster, the +acknowledged wit, the mirror of courtliness--was silent and +tongue-tied, this ruffling, upstart swashbuckler entertained them with +a sprightliness that won him every heart--always excepting that of Romeo +Gonzaga. + +Francesco made light of the siege in a manner that enlivened every soul +present with relief. He grew merry at the expense of Gian Maria, and +made it very plain that he could have found naught more captivating to +his warlike fancy than this business upon which an accident had embarked +him. He was as full of confidence for the issue as he was full of eager +anticipation of the fray itself. + +Is it wonderful that--never having known any but artificial men; men of +court and ante-chamber; men of dainty ways and mincing, affected tricks +of speech; in short, such men as circumstance ordains shall surround +the great--Monna Valentina's eyes should open very wide, the better to +behold this new pattern of a man, who, whilst clearly a gentleman +of high degree, carried with him an air of the camp rather than the +camerion, was imbued by a spirit of chivalry and adventure, and ignored +with a certain lofty dignity, as if beneath his observance, the poses +that she was wont to see characterising the demeanour of the gentlemen +of his Highness, her uncle. + +He was young, moreover, yet no longer callow; comely, yet with a strong +male comeliness; he had a pleasantly modulated voice, yet one that +they had heard swell into a compelling note of command; he had the most +joyous, careless laugh in all the world--such a laugh as endears a man +to all that hear it--and he indulged it without stint. + +Gonzaga sat glum and moody, his heart bursting with the resentment of +the mean and the incompetent for the man of brilliant parts. But the +morrow was to bring him worse. + +The Duke of Urbino arrived next morning, and rode up to the moat in +person, attended only by a trumpeter, who, for the third time, wound a +note of challenge to the fortress. + +As on the previous day, Valentina answered the summons, attended by +Francesco, Fortemani and Gonzaga--the latter uninvited yet not denied, +and following sullenly in her train, in a last, despairing attempt to +assert himself one of her captains. + +Francesco had put on his harness, and came arrayed from head to foot +in resplendent steel, to do worthy honour to the occasion. A bunch of +plumes nodded in his helm, and for all that his beaver was open, yet +the shadows of the head-piece afforded at the distance sufficient +concealment to his features. + +The sight of her uncle left Valentina unmoved. Well-beloved though he +was of his people, between himself and his niece he had made no effort +ever to establish relations of affection. Less than ever did he now seek +to prevail by the voice of kinship. He came in the panoply of war, as +a prince to a rebel subject, and in precisely such a tone did he greet +her. + +"Monna Valentina," he said--seeming entirely to overlook the +circumstance that she was his kinswoman--"deeply though this rebellion +grieves me, you are not to think that your sex shall gain you any +privileges or any clemency. We will treat you precisely as we would any +other rebel subject who acted as you have done." + +"Highness," she replied, "I solicit no privilege beyond that to which my +sex gives me the absolute right, and which has no concern with war and +arms. I allude to the privilege of disposing of myself, my hand and +heart, as it shall please me. Until you come to recognise that I am a +woman endowed with a woman's nature, and until, having realised it, you +are prepared to submit to it, and pass me your princely word to urge the +Duke of Babbiano's suit no further with me, here will I stay in spite +of you, your men-at-arms, and your paltry ally, Gian Maria, who imagines +that love may be made successfully in armour, and that a way to a +woman's heart is to be opened with cannon-shot." + +"I think we shall bring you to a more subjective and dutiful frame of +mind, Madonna," was the grim answer. + +"Dutiful to whom?" + +"To the State, a princess of which you have had the honour to be born." + +"And what of my duty to myself, to my heart, and to my womanhood? Is no +account to be taken of that?" + +"These are matters, Madonna, that are not to be discussed in shouts from +the walls of a castle--nor, indeed, do I wish to discuss them anywhere. +I am here to summon you to surrender. If you resist us, you do so at +your peril." + +"Then at my peril I will resist you--gladly. I defy you. Do your worst +against me, disgrace your manhood and the very name of chivalry by +whatsoever violence may occur to you, yet I promise you that Valentina +della Rovere never shall become the wife of his Highness of Babbiano." + +"You refuse to open your gates?" he returned, in a voice that shook with +anger. + +"Utterly and finally." + +"And you think to persist in this?" + +"As long as I have life." + +The Prince laughed sardonically. + +"I wash my hands of the affair and of its consequences," he answered +grimly. "I leave it in the care of your future husband, Gian Maria +Sforza, and if, in his very natural eagerness for the nuptials, he uses +your castle roughly, the blame of it must rest with you. But what he +does, he does with my full sanction, and I have come hither to advise +you of it since you appeared in doubt. I beg that you will remain there +for a few moments, to hear what his Highness himself may have to say. I +trust his eloquence may prove more persuasive." + +He saluted ceremoniously, and, wheeling his horse about, he rode away. +Valentina would have withdrawn, but Francesco urged her to remain, and +await the Duke of Babbiano's coming. And so they paced the battlements, +Valentina in earnest talk with Francesco, Gonzaga following in moody +silence with Fortemani, and devouring them with his eyes. + +From their eminence they surveyed the bustling camp in the plain, +where tents, green, brown, and white, were being hastily erected by +half-stripped soldiers. The little army altogether, may have numbered +a hundred men, which, in his vainglory, Gian Maria accounted all that +would be needed to reduce Roccaleone. But the most formidable portion of +his forces rolled into the field even as they watched. It was heralded +by a hoarse groaning of the wheels of bullock-carts to the number of +ten, on each of which was borne a cannon. Other carts followed with +ammunition and victuals for the men encamped. + +They looked on with interest at the busy scene that was toward, and as +they watched they saw Guidobaldo ride into the heart of the camp, and +dismount. Then from out of a tent more roomy and imposing than the rest +advanced the short, stout figure of Gian Maria, not to be recognised at +that distance save by the keen eyes of Francesco that were familiar with +his shape. + +A groom held a horse for him and assisted him to mount, and then, +attended by the same trumpeter that had escorted Guidobaldo, he rode +forward towards the castle. At the edge of the moat he halted, and at +sight of Valentina and her company, he doffed his feathered hat, and +bowed his straw-coloured head. + +"Monna Valentina," he called, and when she stepped forth in answer, he +raised his little, cruel eyes in a malicious glance and showed the +round moon of his white face to be whiter even, than its wont--a pallor +atrabilious and almost green. + +"I am grieved that his Highness, your uncle, should not have prevailed +with you. Where he has failed, I may have little hope of succeeding--by +the persuasion of words. Yet I would beg you to allow me to have speech +of your captain, whoever he may be." + +"My captains are here in attendance," she answered tranquilly. + +"So! You have a plurality of them; to command--how many men?" + +"Enough," roared Francesco, interposing, his voice sounding hollow +from his helmet, "to blow you and your woman besieging scullions to +perdition." + +The Duke stirred on his horse, and peered up at the speaker. But there +was too little of his face visible for recognition, whilst his voice was +altered and his figure dissembled in its steel casing. + +"Who are you, rogue?" he asked. + +"Rogue in your teeth, be you twenty times a Duke," returned the other, +at which Valentina laughed outright. + +Never from the day when he had uttered his first wail had his Highness +of Babbiano heard words of such import from the lips of living man. A +purple flush mottled his cheeks at the indignity of it. + +"Attend to me, knave!" he bellowed. "Whatever betide the rest of this +misguided garrison when ultimately it falls into my hands, for you I can +promise a rope and a cross-beam." + +"Bah!" sneered the knight. "First catch your bird. Be none so sure that +Roccaleone ever will fall into your hands. While I live you do not enter +here, and my life, Highness, is for me a precious thing, which I'll not +part with lightly." + +Valentina's eyes were mirthless now as she turned them upon that +gleaming, martial figure standing so proudly at her side, and seeming +so well-attuned to the proud defiance he hurled at the princely bully +below. + +"Hush, sir!" she murmured. "Do not anger him further." + +"Aye," groaned Gonzaga, "in God's name say no more, or you'll undo us +hopelessly." + +"Madonna," said the Duke, without further heeding Francesco, "I give you +twenty-four hours in which to resolve upon your action. Yonder you see +them bringing the cannon into camp. When you wake to-morrow you shall +find those guns trained upon your walls. Meanwhile, enough said. May I +speak a word with Messer Gonzaga ere I depart." + +"So that you depart, you may say a word to whom you will," she answered +contemptuously. And, turning aside, she motioned Gonzaga to the crenel +she abandoned. + +"I'll swear that mincing jester is trembling already with the fear of +what is to come," bawled the Duke, "and perhaps fear will show him the +way to reason. Messer Gonzaga!" he called, raising his voice. "As I +believe the men of Roccaleone are in your service, I call upon you to +bid them throw down that drawbridge, and in the name of Guidobaldo as +well as my own, I promise them free pardon and no hurt--saving only that +rascal at your side. But if your knaves resist me, I promise you that +when I shall have dashed Roccaleone stone from stone, not a man of you +all will I spare." + +Shaking like an aspen Gonzaga stood there, his voice palsied and making +no reply, whereupon Francesco leant forward again. + +"We have heard your terms," he answered, "and we are not like to heed +them. Waste not the day in vain threats." + +"Sir, my terms were not for you. I know you not; I addressed you not, +nor will I suffer myself to be addressed by you." + +"Linger there another moment," answered the vibrating voice of +the knight, "and you will find yourself addressed with a volley of +arquebuse-shot. Ola, there!" he commanded, turning and addressing an +imaginary body of men on the lower ramparts of the garden, to his left. +"Arquebusiers to the postern! Blow your matches! Make ready! Now, my +Lord Duke, will you draw off, or must we blow you off?" + +The Duke's reply took the form of a bunch of blasphemous threats of how +he would serve his interlocutor when he came to set hands on him. + +"Present arms!" roared the knight to his imaginary arquebusiers, +whereupon, without another word, the Duke turned his horse and rode +off in disgraceful haste, his trumpeter following hot upon his heels, +pursued by a derisive burst of laughter from Francesco. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. TREACHERY + + +"Sir," gulped Gonzaga, as they were descending from the battlements, +"you will end by having us all hanged. Was that a way to address a +prince?" + +Valentina frowned that he should dare rebuke her knight. But Francesco +only laughed. + +"By St. Paul! How would you have had me address him?" he inquired. +"Would you have had me use cajolery with him--the lout? Would you +have had me plead mercy from him, and beg him, in honeyed words, to be +patient with a wilful lady? Let be, Messer Gonzaga, we shall weather it +yet, never doubt it." + +"Messer Gonzaga's courage seems of a quality that wanes as the need for +it increases," said Valentina. + +"You are confounding courage, Madonna, with foolhardy recklessness," the +courtier returned. "You may learn it to your undoing." + +That Gonzaga was not the only one entertaining this opinion they were +soon to learn, for, as they reached the courtyard a burly, black-browed +ruffian, Cappoccio by name, thrust himself in their path. + +"A word with you, Messer Gonzaga, and you, Ser Ercole." His attitude +was full of truculent insolence, and all paused, Francesco and Valentina +turning from him to the two men whom he addressed, and waiting to hear +what he might have to say to them. "When I accepted service under you, +I was given to understand that I was entering a business that should +entail little risk to my skin. I was told that probably there would be +no fighting, and that if there were, it would be no more than a brush +with the Duke's men. So, too, did you assure my comrades." + +"Did you indeed?" quoth Valentina, intervening, and addressing herself +to Fortemani, to whom Cappoccio's words had been directed. + +"I did, Madonna," answered Ercole. "But I had Messer Gonzaga's word for +it." + +"Did you," she continued, turning to Gonzaga, "permit their engagement +on that understanding?" + +"On some such understanding, yes, Madonna," he was forced to confess. + +She looked at him a moment in amazement. Then: + +"Msser Gonzaga," she said at length, "I think that I begin to know you." + +But Cappoccio, who was nowise interested in the extent of Valentina's +knowledge of the man, broke in impetuously: + +"Now we have heard what has passed between this new Provost here and his +Highness of Babbiano. We have heard the terms that were offered, and +his rejection of them, and I am come to tell you, Ser Ercole, and you, +Messer Gonzaga, that I for one will not remain here to be hanged when +Roccaleone shall fall into the hands of Gian Maria. And there are others +of my comrades who are of the same mind." + +Valentina looked at the rugged, determined features of the man, and +fear for the first time stole into her heart and was reflected on her +countenance. She was half-turning to Gonzaga, to vent upon him some of +the bitterness of her humour--for him she accounted to blame--when once +again Francesco came to the rescue. + +"Now, shame on you, Cappoccio, for a paltry hind! Are these words for +the ears of a besieged and sorely harassed lady, craven?" + +"I am no craven," the man answered hoarsely, his face flushing under the +whip of Francesco's scorn. "Out in the open I will take my chances, and +fight in any cause that pays me. But this is not my trade--this waiting +for the death of a trapped rat." + +Francesco met his eyes steadily for a moment, then glanced at the other +men, to the number of a half-score or so--all, in fact, whom the duties +he had apportioned them did not hold elsewhere. They hung in the rear +of Cappoccio, all ears for what was being said, and their countenances +plainly showing how their feelings were in sympathy with their +spokesman. + +"And you a soldier, Cappoccio?" sneered Francesco. "Shall I tell you +in what Fortemani was wrong when he enlisted you? He was wrong in not +hiring you for scullion duty in the castle kitchen." + +"Sir Knight!" + +"Bah! Do you raise your voice to me? Do you think I am of your kind, +animal, to be affrighted by sounds--however hideous?" + +"I am not affrighted by sounds." + +"Are you not? Why, then, all this ado about a bunch of empty threats +cast at us by the Duke of Babbiano? If you were indeed the soldier you +would have us think you, would you come here and say, 'I will not die +this way, or that'? Confess yourself a boaster when you tell us that you +are ready to die in the open." + +"Nay! That am I not." + +"Then, if you are ready to die out there, why not in here? Shall +it signify aught to him that dies where he gets his dying done? But +reassure yourself, you woman," he added, with a laugh, and in a +voice loud enough to be heard by the others, "you are not going to +die--neither here, nor there." + +"When Roccaleone capitulates----" + +"It will not capitulate," thundered Francesco. + +"Well, then--when it is taken." + +"Nor will it be taken," the Provost insisted, with an assurance that +carried conviction. "If Gian Maria had time unlimited at his command, +he might starve us into submission. But he has not. An enemy is menacing +his own frontiers, and in a few days--a week, at most--he will be forced +to get him hence to defend his crown." + +"The greater reason for him to use stern measures and bombard us as he +threatens," answered Cappoccio shrewdly but rather in the tone of a man +who expects to have his argument disproved. And Francesco, if he could +not disprove it, could at least contradict it. + +"Believe it not," he cried, with a scornful laugh. "I tell you that Gian +Maria will never dare so much. And if he did, are these walls that will +crumble at a few cannon-shots? Assault he might attempt; but I need not +tell a soldier that twenty men who are stout and resolute, as I will +believe you are for all your craven words, could hold so strong a place +as this against the assault of twenty times the men the Duke has with +him. And for the rest, if you think I tell you more than I believe +myself, I ask you to remember how I am included in Gian Maria's threat. +I am but a soldier like you, and such risks as are yours are mine as +well. Do you see any sign of faltering in me, any sign of doubting the +issue, or any fear of a rope that shall touch me no more than it shall +touch you? There, Cappoccio! A less merciful provost would have hanged +you for your words--for they reek of sedition. Yet I have stood and +argued with you, because I cannot spare a brave man such as you +will prove yourself. Let us hear no more of your doubtings. They are +unworthy. Be brave and resolute, and you shall find yourself well +rewarded when the baffled Duke shall be forced to raise this siege." + +He turned without waiting for the reply of Cappoccio--who stood +crestfallen, his cheeks reddened by shame of his threat to get him +hence--and conducted Valentina calmly across the yard and up the steps +of the hall. + +It was his way never to show a doubt that his orders would be obeyed, +yet on this occasion scarce had the door of the hall closed after them +when he turned sharply to the following Ercole. + +"Get you an arquebuse," he said quickly, "and take my man Lanciotto, +with you. Should those dogs still prove mutinous, fire into any that +attempt the gates--fire to kill--and send me word. But above all, +Ercole, do not let them see you or suspect your presence; that were to +undermine such effect as my words may have produced." + +From out of a woefully pale face Valentina raised her brown eyes to his, +in a look that was as a stab to the observing Gonzaga. + +"I needed a man here," she said, "and I think that Heaven it must have +been that sent you to my aid. But do you think," she asked, and with her +eyes she closely scanned his face for any sign of doubt, "that they are +pacified?" + +"I am assured of it, Madonna. Come, there are signs of tears in your +eyes, and--by my soul!--there is naught to weep at." + +"I am but a woman, after all," she smiled up at him, "and so, subject to +a woman's weakness. It seemed as if the end were indeed come just now. +It had come, but for you. If they should mutiny----" + +"They shall not, while I am here," he answered, with a cheering +confidence. And she, full of faith in this true knight of hers, went to +seek her ladies, and to soothe in her turn any alarm to which they might +have fallen a prey. + +Francesco went to disarm, and Gonzaga to take the air upon the ramparts, +his heart a very bag of gall. His hatred for the interloper was as +nothing now to his rage against Valentina, a rage that had its birth +in a wondering uncomprehension of how she should prefer that coarse, +swashbuckling bully to himself, the peerless Gonzaga. And as he walked +there, under the noontide sky, the memory of Francesco's assurance that +the men would not mutiny returned to him, and he caught himself most +ardently desiring that they might, if only to bear it home to Valentina +how misplaced was her trust, how foolish her belief in that loud +boaster. He thought next--and with increasing bitterness--of his own +brave schemes, of his love for Valentina, and of how assured he had +been that his affections were returned, before this ruffler came +amongst them. He laughed in bitter scorn as the thought returned to her +preferring Francesco to himself. Well, it might be so now--now that the +times were warlike, and this Francesco was such a man as shone at his +best in them. But what manner of companion would this sbirro make in +times of peace? Had he the wit, the grace, the beauty even that was +Gonzaga's? Circumstance, it seemed to him, was here to blame, and he +roundly cursed that same Circumstance. In other surroundings, he was +assured that she would not have cast an eye upon Francesco whilst he, +himself, was by; and if he recalled their first meeting at Acquasparta, +it was again to curse Circumstance for having placed the knight in such +case as to appeal to the tenderness that is a part of woman's nature. + +He reflected--assured that he was right--that if Francesco had not come +to Roccaleone, he might by now have been wed to Valentina; and once wed, +he could throw down the bridge and march out of Roccaleone, assured that +Gian Maria would not care to espouse his widow, and no less assured that +Guidobaldo--who was at heart a kind and clement prince--would be content +to let be what was accomplished, since there would be naught gained +beyond his niece's widowhood in hanging Gonzaga. It was the specious +argument that had lured him upon this rash enterprise, the hopes that +he was confident would have fructified but for the interloping of +Francesco. + +He stood looking down at the tented plain, with black rage and black +despair blotting the beauty from the sunlight of that May morning, and +then it came to him that since there was naught to be hoped from his +old plans, might it not be wise to turn his attention to new ones that +would, at least, save him from hanging? For he was assured that whatever +might betide the others, his own fate was sealed, whether Roccaleone +fell or not. It would be remembered against him that the affair was of +his instigating, and from neither Gian Maria nor Guidobaldo might he +look for mercy. + +And now the thought of extricating himself from his desperate peril +turned him cold by its suddenness. He stood very still a moment; then +looked about him as though he feared that some watching spy might read +on him the ugly intention that of a sudden had leapt to life in his +heart. Swiftly it spread, and took more definite shape, the reflection +of it showing now upon his smooth, handsome face, and disfiguring it +beyond belief. He drew away from the wall, and took a turn or two upon +the ramparts, one hand behind him, the other raised to support his +drooping chin. Thus he brooded for a little while. Then, with another of +his furtive glances, he turned to the north-western tower, and entered +the armoury. There he rummaged until he had found the pen, ink and paper +that he sought, and with the door wide open--the better that he might +hear the sound of approaching steps--he set himself feverishly to write. +It was soon done, and he stood up, waving the sheet to dry the ink. Then +he looked it over again, and this is what he had written: + +"I have it in my power to stir the garrison to mutiny and to throw open +the gates of Roccaleone. Thus shall the castle fall immediately into +your hands, and you shall have a proof of how little I am in sympathy +with this rebellion of Monna Valentina's. What terms do you offer me +if I accomplish this? Answer me now, and by the same means as I am +employing, but dispatch not your answer if I show myself upon the +ramparts. + +"ROMEO GONZAGA." + + +He folded the paper, and on the back he wrote the superscription--"To +the High and Mighty Duke of Babbiano." Then opening a large chest that +stood against the wall, he rummaged a moment, and at last withdrew an +arbalest quarrel. About the body of this he tied his note. Next, from +the wall he took down a cross-bow, and from a corner a moulinet for +winding it. With his foot in the stirrup he made the cord taut and set +the shaft in position. + +And now he closed the door, and, going to the window, which was little +more than an arrow-slit, he shouldered his arbalest. He took careful aim +in the direction of the ducal tent, and loosed the quarrel. He watched +its light, and it almost thrilled him with pride in his archery to see +it strike the tent at which he had aimed, and set the canvas shuddering. + +In a moment there was a commotion. Men ran to the spot, others emerged +from the tent, and amongst the latter Gonzaga recognised the figures of +Gian Maria and Guidobaldo. + +The bolt was delivered to the Duke of Babbiano, who, with an upward +glance at the ramparts, vanished into the tent once more. + +Gonzaga moved from his eerie, and set wide the door of the tower, +so that his eyes could range the whole of the sun-bathed ramparts. +Returning to his window, he waited impatiently for the answer. Nor was +his impatience to endure long. At the end of some ten minutes Gian +Maria reappeared, and, summoning an archer to his side, he delivered +him something and made a motion of his hand towards Roccaleone. Gonzaga +moved to the door, and stood listening breathlessly. At the least sign +of an approach, he would have shown himself, and thus, by the provision +made in his letter have cautioned the archer against shooting his bolt. +But all was quiet, and so Gonzaga remained where he was until something +flashed like a bird across his vision, struck sharply against the +posterior wall, and fell with a tinkle on the broad stones of the +rampart. A moment later the answer from Gian Maria was in his hands. + +He swiftly unwound it from the shaft that had brought it, and dropped +the bolt into a corner. Then unfolding the letter, he read it, leaning +against one of the merlons of the wall. + +"If you can devise a means to deliver Roccaleone at once into my +hands you shall earn my gratitude, full pardon for your share in Monna +Valentina's rebellion, and the sum of a thousand gold florins. + +"GIAN MARIA." + + +As he read, a light of joy leapt to his eyes. Gian Maria's terms were +very generous. He would accept them, and Valentina should realise when +too late upon what manner of broken reed she leaned in relying upon +Messer Francesco. Would he save her now, as he so loudly boasted? Would +there indeed be no mutiny, as he so confidently prophesied? Gonzaga +chuckled evilly to himself. She should learn her lesson, and when she +was Gian Maria's wife, she might perhaps repent her of her treatment of +Romeo Gonzaga. + +He laughed softly to himself. Then suddenly he turned cold, and he felt +his skin roughening. A stealthy step sounded behind him. + +He crumpled the Duke's letter in his hand, and in the alarm of the +moment, he dropped it over the wall. Seeking vainly to compose the +features that a chilling fear had now disturbed, he turned to see who +came. + +Behind him stood Peppe, his solemn eyes bent with uncanny intentness +upon Gonzaga's face. + +"You were seeking me?" quoth Romeo, and the quaver in his voice sorted +ill with his arrogance. + +The fool made him a grotesque bow. + +"Monna Valentina desires that you attend her in the garden, +Illustrious." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. PLOT AND COUNTERPLOT + + +Peppe's quick eyes had seen Gonzaga crumple and drop the paper, no less +than he had observed the courtier's startled face, and his suspicions +had been aroused. He was by nature prying, and experience had taught +him that the things men seek to conceal are usually the very things +it imports most to have knowledge of. So when Gonzaga had gone, in +obedience to Valentina's summons, the jester peered carefully over the +battlements. + +At first he saw nothing, and he was concluding with disappointment that +the thing Gonzaga had cast from him was lost in the torrential waters +of the moat. But presently, lodged on a jutting stone, above the foaming +stream into which it would seem that a miracle had prevented it +from falling, he espied a ball of crumpled paper. He observed +with satisfaction that it lay some ten feet immediately below the +postern-gate by the drawbridge. + +Secretly, for it was not Peppy's way to take men into his confidence +where it might be avoided, he got himself a coil of rope. Having +descended and quietly opened the postern, he made one end fast and +lowered the other to the water with extreme care, lest he should +dislodge, and so lose, that paper. + +Assuring himself again that he was unobserved, he went down, hand over +hand, like a monkey, his feet against the rough-hewn granite of the +wall. Then, with a little swinging of the rope, he brought himself +nearer that crumpled ball, his legs now dangling in the angry water, and +by a mighty stretch that all but precipitated him into the torrent, he +seized the paper and transferred it to his teeth. Then hand over hand +again, and with a frantic haste, for he feared observation not only from +the castle sentries but also from the watchers in the besieger's camp, +he climbed back to the postern, exulting in that he had gone unobserved, +and contemptuous for the vigilance of those that should have observed +him. + +Softly he closed the wicket, locked it and shot home the bolts at top +and base, and went to replace the key on its nail in the guard-room, +which he found untenanted. Next, with that mysterious letter in his +hand, he scampered off across the courtyard and through the porch +leading to the domestic quarters, nor paused until he had gained the +kitchen, where Fra Domenico was roasting the quarter of a lamb that +he had that morning butchered. For now that the siege was established, +there was no more fish from the brook, nor hares and ortolans from the +country-side. + +The friar cursed the fool roundly, as was his wont upon every +occasion, for he was none so holy that he disdained the milder forms +of objurgatory oaths. But Peppe for once had no vicious answer ready, a +matter that led the Dominican to ask him was he ill. + +Never heeding him, the fool unfolded and smoothed the crumpled paper in +a corner by the fire. He read it and whistled, then stuffed it into the +bosom of his absurd tunic. + +"What ails you?" quoth the friar. "What have you there?" + +"A recipe for a dish of friar's brains. A most rare delicacy, and +rendered costly by virtue of the scarcity of the ingredients." And with +that answer Peppe was gone, leaving the monk with an ugly look in his +eyes, and an unuttered imprecation on his tongue. + +Straight to the Count of Aquila went the fool with his letter. Francesco +read it, and questioned him closely as to what he knew of the manner in +which it had come into Gonzaga's possession. For the rest, those lines, +far from causing him the uneasiness Peppe expected, seemed a source of +satisfaction and assurance to him. + +"He offers a thousand gold florins," he muttered, "in addition to +Gonzaga's liberty and advancement. Why, then, I have said no more than +was true when I assured the men that Gian Maria was but idly threatening +us with bombardment. Keep this matter secret, Peppe." + +"But you will watch Messer Gonzaga?" quoth the fool. + +"Watch him? Why, where is the need? You do not imagine him so vile that +this offer could tempt him?" + +Peppe looked up, his great, whimsical face screwed into an expression of +cunning doubt. + +"You do not think, lord, that he invited it?" + +"Now, shame on you for that thought. Messer Gonzaga may be an idle +lute-thrummer, a poor-spirited coward; but a traitor----! And to betray +Monna Valentina! No, no." + +But the fool was far from reassured. He had had the longer acquaintance +of Messer Gonzaga, and his shrewd eyes had long since taken the man's +exact measure. Let Francesco scorn the notion of betrayal at Romeo's +hands; Peppe would dog him like a shadow. This he did for the remainder +of that day, clinging to Gonzaga as if he loved him dearly, and +furtively observing the man's demeanour. Yet he saw nothing to confirm +his suspicions beyond a certain preoccupied moodiness on the courtier's +part. + +That night, as they supped, Gonzaga pleaded toothache, and with +Valentina's leave he quitted the table at the very outset of the meal. +Peppe rose to follow him, but as he reached the door, his natural enemy, +the friar--ever anxious to thwart him where he could--caught him by the +nape of the neck, and flung him unceremoniously back into the room. + +"Have you a toothache too, good-for-naught?" quoth the frate. "Stay you +here and help me to wait upon the company." + +"Let me go, good Fra Domenico," the fool whispered, in a voice so +earnest that the monk left his way clear. But Valentina's voice now bade +him stay with them, and so his opportunity was lost. + +He moved about the room a very dispirited, moody fool with no quip for +anyone, for his thoughts were all on Gonzaga and the treason that he +was sure he was hatching. Yet faithful to Francesco, who sat all +unconcerned, and not wishing to alarm Valentina, he choked back the +warning that rose to his lips, seeking to convince himself that his +fears sprang perhaps from an excess of suspicion. Had he known +how well-founded indeed they were he might have practised less +self-restraint. + +For whilst he moved sullenly about the room, assisting Fra Domenico with +the dishes and platters, Gonzaga paced the ramparts beside Cappoccio, +who was on sentry duty on the north wall. + +His business called for no great diplomacy, nor did Gonzaga employ much. +He bluntly told Cappoccio that he and his comrades had allowed Messer +Francesco's glib tongue to befool them that morning, and that the +assurances Francesco had given them were not worthy of an intelligent +man's consideration. + +"I tell you, Cappoccio," he ended, "that to remain here and protract +this hopeless resistance will cost you your life at the unsavoury hands +of the hangman. You see I am frank with you." + +Now for all that what Gonzaga told him might sort excellently well with +the ideas he had himself entertained, Cappoccio was of a suspicious +nature, and his suspicions whispered to him now that Gonzaga was +actuated by some purpose he could not gauge. + +He stood still, and leaning with both hands upon his partisan, he sought +to make out the courtier's features in the dim light of the rising moon. + +"Do you mean," he asked, and in his voice sounded the surprise with +which Gonzaga's odd speech had filled him, "that we are foolish to have +listened to Messer Francesco, and that we should be better advised to +march out of Roccaleone?" + +"Yes; that is what I mean." + +"But why," he insisted, his surprise increasing, "do you urge such a +course upon us?" + +"Because, Cappoccio," was the plausible reply, "like yourselves, I was +lured into this business by insidious misrepresentations. The assurances +that I gave Fortemani, and with which he enrolled you into his service, +were those that had been given to me. I did not bargain with such a +death as awaits us here, and I frankly tell you that I have no stomach +for it." + +"I begin to understand," murmured Cappoccio, sagely wagging his head, +and there was a shrewd insolence in his tone and manner. "When we leave +Roccaleone you come with us?" + +Gonzaga nodded. + +"But why do you not say these things to Fortemani?" questioned +Cappoccio, still doubting. + +"Fortemani!" echoed Gonzaga. "By the Host, no! The man is bewitched +by that plausible rogue, Francesco. Far from resenting the fellow's +treatment of him, he follows and obeys his every word, like the +mean-spirited dog that he is." + +Again Cappoccio sought to scrutinise Gonzaga's face. But the light was +indifferent. + +"Are you dealing with me fairly?" he asked. "Or does some deeper purpose +lie under your wish that we should rebel against the lady?" + +"My friend," answered Gonzaga, "do you but wait until Gian Maria's +herald comes for his answer in the morning. Then you will learn again +the terms on which your lives are offered you. Do nothing until then. +But when you hear yourselves threatened with the rope and the wheel, +bethink you of what course you will be best advised in pursuing. You ask +me what purpose inspires me. I have already told you--for I am as open +as the daylight with you--that I am inspired by the purpose of saving my +own neck. Is not that purpose enough?" + +A laugh of such understanding as would have set a better man on fire +with indignation was the answer he received. + +"Why, yes, it is more than enough. To-morrow, then, my comrades and I +march out of Roccaleone. Count upon that." + +"But do not accept my word. Wait until the herald comes again. Do +nothing until you have heard the terms he brings." + +"Why, no, assuredly not." + +"And do not let it transpire among your fellows that it is I who have +suggested this." + +"Why no. I'll keep your secret," laughed the bravo offensively, +shouldering his partisan and resuming his sentinel's pacing. + +Gonzaga sought his bed. A fierce joy consumed him at having so +consummately planned Valentina's ruin, yet he did not wish to face her +again that night. + +But when on the morrow the herald wound his horn again beneath the +castle walls, Gonzaga was prominent in the little group that attended +Monna Valentina. The Count of Aquila was superintending the work to +which he had set a half-score of men. With a great show, and as much +noise as possible--by which Francesco intended that the herald should be +impressed--they were rolling forward four small culverins and some +three cannons of larger calibre, and planting them so that they made a +menacing show in the crenels of the parapet. + +Whilst watching and directing the men, he kept his ears open for the +message, and he heard the herald again recite the terms on which the +garrison might surrender, and again the threat to hang every man from +the castle-walls if they compelled him to reduce them by force of arms. +He brought his message to an end by announcing that in his extreme +clemency Gian Maria accorded them another half-hour's grace in which to +resolve themselves upon their course. Should the end of that time +still find them obstinate, the bombardment would commence. Such was the +message that in another of his arrow-borne letters Gonzaga had suggested +Gian Maria should send. + +It was Francesco who stepped forward to reply. He had been stooping over +one of the guns, as if to assure himself of the accuracy of its aim, and +as he rose he pronounced himself satisfied in a voice loud enough for +the herald's hearing. Then he advanced to Valentina's side, and whilst +he stood there delivering his answer he never noticed the silent +departure of the men from the wall. + +"You will tell his Highness of Babbiano," he replied, "that he reminds +us of the boy in the fable who cried 'Wolf!' too often. Tell him, sir, +that his threats leave this garrison as unmoved as do his promises. If +so be that he intends in truth to bombard us, let him begin forthwith. +We are ready for him, as you perceive. Maybe he did not suppose us +equipped with cannon; but there they stand. Those guns are trained upon +his camp, and the first shot he fires upon us shall be a signal for +such a reply as he little dreams of. Tell him, too, that we expect no +quarter, and will yield none. We are unwilling for bloodshed, but if he +drives us to it and executes his purpose of employing cannon, then the +consequences be upon his own head. Bear him that answer, and tell him to +send you no more with empty threats." + +The herald bowed upon the withers of his horse. The arrogance, the cold +imperiousness of the message struck him dumb with amazement. Amazement +was his, too, that Roccaleone should be armed with cannon, as with his +own eyes he saw. That those guns were empty he could not guess, nor +could Gian Maria when he heard a message that filled him with rage, and +would have filled him with dismay, but that he counted upon the mutiny +which Gonzaga had pledged himself to stir up. + +As the herald was riding away a gruff laugh broke from Fortemani, who +stood behind the Count. + +Valentina turned to Francesco with eyes that beamed admiration and a +singular tenderness. + +"Oh, what had I done without you, Messer Francesco?" she cried, for +surely the twentieth time since his coming. "I tremble to think how +things had gone without your wit and valour to assist me." She never +noticed the malicious smile that trembled on Gonzaga's pretty face. +"Where did you find the powder?" she asked innocently, for her mind had +not yet caught that humour of the situation that had drawn a laugh from +Fortemani. + +"I found none," answered Francesco, smiling from the shadow of his helm. +"My threats"--and he waved his hand in the direction of that formidable +array of guns--"are as empty as Gian Maria's. Yet I think they will +impress him more than his do us. I will answer for it, Madonna, that +they deter him from bombarding us--if so be that he ever intended to. So +let us go and break our fast with a glad courage." + +"Those guns are empty?" she gasped. "And you could talk so boldly and +threaten so defiantly!" + +Mirth crept now into her face, and thrust back the alarm, a little of +which had peeped from her eyes even as she was extolling Francesco. + +"There!" he cried joyously. "You are smiling now, Madonna. Nor have +you cause for aught else. Shall we descend? This early morning work has +given me the hunger of a wolf." + +She turned to go with him, and in that moment, Peppe, his owlish face +spread over with alarm, dashed up the steps from the courtyard. + +"Madonna!" he gasped, breathless. "Messer Francesco! The +men--Cappoccio---- He is haranguing them. He--is inciting them to +treachery." + +So, in gasps, he got out his tale, which swept the mirth again from +Valentina's eyes, and painted very white her cheek. Strong and brave +though she was, she felt her senses swimming at that sudden revulsion +from confidence to fear. Was all indeed ended at the very moment when +hope had reached its high meridian? + +"You are faint, Madonna; lean on me." + +It was Gonzaga who spoke. But beyond the fact that the words had been +uttered, she realised nothing. She saw an arm advanced, and she took it. +Then she dragged Gonzaga with her to the side overlooking the courtyard, +that with her own eyes she might have evidence of what was toward. + +She heard an oath--a vigorous, wicked oath--from Francesco, followed by +a command, sharp and rasping. + +"To the armoury yonder, Peppe! Fetch me a two-handed sword--the stoutest +you can find. Ercole, come with me. Gonzaga---- Nay, you had best stay +here. See to Monna Valentina." + +He stepped to her side now, and rapidly surveyed the surging scene +below, where Cappoccio was still addressing the men. At sight of +Francesco, they raised a fierce yell, as might a pack of dogs that have +sighted their quarry. + +"To the gates!" was the shout. "Down the draw-bridge! We accept the +terms of Gian Maria. We will not die like rats." + +"By God, but you shall, if I so will it!" snarled Francesco through his +set teeth. Then turning his head in a fever of impatience "Peppe," he +shouted, "will you never bring that sword?" + +The fool came up at that moment, staggering under the weight of a great, +double-edged two-hander, equipped with lugs, and measuring a good six +feet from point to pummel. Francesco caught it from him, and bending, he +muttered a swift order in Peppino's ear. + +"...In the box that stands upon the table in my chamber," Gonzaga +overheard him say. "Now go, and bring it to me in the yard. Speed you, +Peppino!" + +A look of understanding flashed up from the hunchback's eyes, and as he +departed at a run Francesco hoisted the mighty sword to his shoulder as +though its weight were that of a feather. In that instant Valentina's +white hand was laid upon the brassart that steeled his fore-arm. + +"What will you do?" she questioned, in a whisper, her eyes dilating with +alarm. + +"Stem the treachery of that rabble," he answered shortly. "Stay you +here, Madonna. Fortemani and I will pacify them--or make an end of +them." And so grimly did he say it that Gonzaga believed it to lie +within his power. + +"But you are mad!" she cried, and the fear in her eyes increased. "What +can you do against twenty?" + +"What God pleases," he answered, and for a second put the ferocity from +his heart that he might smile reassurance. + +"But you will be killed," she cried. "Oh! don't go, don't go! Let them +have their way, Messer Francesco. Let Gian Maria invest the castle. I +care not, so that you do not go." + +Her voice, and the tale it told of sweet anxiety for his fate overruling +everything else in that moment--even her horror of Gian Maria--quickened +his blood to the pace of ecstasy. He was taken by a wild longing to +catch her in his arms--this lady hitherto so brave and daunted now by +the fear of his peril only. Every fibre of his being urged him to gather +her to his breast, whilst he poured courage and comfort into her ear. He +fainted almost with desire to kiss those tender eyes, upturned to his +in her piteous pleading that he should not endanger his own life. But +suppressing all, he only smiled, though very tenderly. + +"Be brave, Madonna, and trust in me a little. Have I failed you yet? +Need you then fear that I shall fail you now?" + +At that she seemed to gather courage. The words reawakened her +confidence in his splendid strength. + +"We shall laugh over this when we break our fast," he cried. "Come, +Ercole!" And without waiting for more, he leapt down the steps with an +agility surprising in one so heavily armed as he. + +They were no more than in time. As they gained the courtyard the +men came sweeping along towards the gates, their voices raucous and +threatening. They were full of assurance. All hell they thought could +not have hindered them, and yet at sight of that tall figure, bright +as an angel, in his panoply of glittering steel, with that great sword +poised on his left shoulder, some of the impetuousness seemed to fall +from them. + +Still they advanced, Cappoccio's voice shouting encouragement. Almost +were they within range of that lengthy sword, when of a sudden it +flashed from his shoulder, and swept a half-circle of dazzling light +before their eyes. Round his head it went, and back again before them, +handled as though it had been a whip, and bringing them, silent, to a +standstill. He bore it back to his shoulder, and alert for the first +movement, his blood on fire, and ready to slay a man or two should the +example become necessary, he addressed them. + +"You see what awaits you if you persist in this," he said, in a +dangerously quiet voice. "Have you no shame, you herd of cowardly +animals! You are loud-voiced enough where treason to the hand that pays +you is in question; but there, it seems, your valour ends." + +He spoke to them now in burning words. He recapitulated the arguments +which yesterday he had made use of to quell the mutinous spirit of +Cappoccio. He assured them that Gian Maria threatened more than he could +accomplish; and so, perhaps, more than he would fulfil if they were so +foolish as to place themselves in his power. Their safety, he pointed +out to them, lay here, behind these walls. The siege could not long +endure. They had a stout ally in Caesar Borgia, and he was marching +upon Babbiano by then, so that Gian Maria must get him home perforce ere +long. Their pay was good, he reminded them, and if the siege were soon +raised they should be well rewarded. + +"Gian Maria threatens to hang you when he captures Roccaleone. But even +should he capture it, do you think he would be allowed to carry out so +inhuman a threat? You are mercenaries, after all, in the pay of Monna +Valentina, on whom and her captains the blame must fall. This is Urbino, +not Babbiano, and Gian Maria is not master here. Do you think the noble +and magnanimous Guidobaldo would let you hang? Have you so poor an +opinion of your Duke? Fools! You are as safe from violence as are those +ladies in the gallery up there. For Guidobaldo would no more think of +harming you than of permitting harm to come to them. If any hanging +there is it will be for me, and perhaps for Messer Gonzaga who hired +you. Yet, do I talk of throwing down my arms? What think you holds me +here? Interest--just as interest holds you--and if I think the risk +worth taking, why should not you? Are you so tame and so poor-spirited +that a threat is to vanquish you? Will you become a byword in Italy, and +when men speak of cowardice, will you have them say: 'Craven as Monna +Valentina's garrison'?" + +In this strain he talked to them, now smiting hard with his scorn, now +cajoling them with his assurances, and breeding confidence anew in their +shaken spirits. It was a thing that went afterwards to the making of an +epic that was sung from Calabria to Piedmont, how this brave knight, +by his words, by the power of his will and the might of his presence, +curbed and subdued that turbulent score of rebellious hinds. + +And from the wall above Valentina watched him, her eyes sparkling with +tears that had not their source in sorrow nor yet in fear, for she knew +that he must prevail. How could it be else with one so dauntless? + +Thus thought she now. But in the moment of his going, fear had chilled +her to the heart, and when she first saw him take his stand before them, +she had turned half-distraught, and begged Gonzaga not to linger at her +side, but to go lend what aid he could to that brave knight who stood so +sorely in need of it. And Gonzaga had smiled a smile as pale as January +sunshine, and his soft blue eyes had hardened in their glance. Not +weakness now was it that held him there, well out of the dangerous +turmoil. For he felt that had he possessed the strength of Hercules, and +the courage of Achilles, he would not in that instant have moved a step +to Francesco's aid. And as much he told her. + +"Why should I, Madonna?" he had returned coldly. "Why should I raise a +hand to help the man whom you prefer to me? Why should I draw sword in +the cause of this fortress?" + +She looked at him with troubled eyes. "What are you saying, my good +Gonzaga?" + +"Aye--your good Gonzaga!" he mocked her bitterly. "Your lap-dog, your +lute-thrummer; but not man enough to be your captain; not man enough to +earn a thought that is kinder than any earned by Peppe or your hounds. +I may endanger my neck to serve you, to bring you hither to a place of +safety from Gian Maria's persecution, and be cast aside for one who, it +happens, has a little more knowledge of this coarse trade of arms. Cast +me aside if you will," he pursued, with increasing bitterness, "but +having done so, do not ask me to serve you again. Let Messer Francesco +fight it out----" + +"Hush, Gonzaga!" she interrupted. "Let me hear what he is saying." + +And her tone told the courtier that his words had been lost upon +the morning air. Engrossed in the scene below she had not so much as +listened to his bitter tirade. For now Francesco was behaving oddly. The +fool was returned from the errand on which he had been despatched, and +Francesco called him to his side. Lowering his sword he received a paper +from Peppe's hand. + +Burning with indignation at having gone unheeded, Gonzaga stood gnawing +his lip, whilst Valentina craned forward to catch Francesco's words. + +"I have here a proof," he cried, "of what I tell you; proof of how +little Gian Maria is prepared to carry out his threats of cannon. It is +that fellow Cappoccio has seduced you with his talk. And you, like the +sheep you are, let yourselves be driven by his foul tongue. Now listen +to the bribe that Gian Maria offers to one within these walls if he can +contrive a means to deliver Roccaleone into his hands." And to Gonzaga's +paralysing consternation, he heard Francesco read the letter with which +Gian Maria had answered his proposed betrayal of the fortress. He +went white with fear and he leant against the low wall to steady +the tell-tale trembling that had seized him. Then Francesco's voice, +scornful and confident, floated up to his ears. "I ask you, my friends, +would his Highness of Babbiano be disposed to the payment of a +thousand gold florins if by bombardment he thought to break a way into +Roccaleone? This letter was written yesterday. Since then we have made +a brave display of cannon ourselves; and if yesterday he dared not fire, +think you he will to-day? But here, assure yourselves, if there is one +amongst you that can read." + +He held out the letter to them. Cappoccio took it, and calling one +Aventano, he held it out in his turn. This Aventano, a youth who had +been partly educated for the Church, but had fallen from that lofty +purpose, now stood forward and took the letter. He scrutinised it, read +it aloud, and pronounced it genuine. + +"Whom is it addressed to?" demanded Cappoccio. + +"Nay, nay!" cried Francesco. "What need for that?" + +"Let be," Cappoccio answered, almost fiercely. "If you would have us +remain in Roccaleone, let be. Aventano, tell me." + +"To Messer Romeo Gonzaga," answered the youth, in a voice of wonder. + +So evil a light leapt to Cappoccio's eye that Francesco carried his free +hand to the sword which he had lowered. But Cappoccio only looked up at +Gonzaga, and grinned malevolently. It had penetrated his dull wits that +he had been the tool of a judas, who sought to sell the castle for a +thousand florins. Further than that Cappoccio did not see; nor was he +very resentful, and his grin was rather of mockery than of anger. He was +troubled by no lofty notions of honour that should cause him to see in +this deed of Gonzaga's anything more than such a trickster's act as it +is always agreeable to foil. And then, to the others, who knew naught +of what was passing in Cappoccio's mind, he did a mighty strange thing. +From being the one to instigate them to treachery and mutiny, he was +the one now to raise his voice in a stout argument of loyalty. He agreed +with all that Messer Francesco had said, and he, for one, ranged himself +on Messer Francesco's side to defend the gates from any traitors who +sought to open them to Gian Maria Sforza. + +His defection from the cause of mutiny was the signal for the utter +abandoning of that cause itself, and another stout ally came opportunely +to weigh in Francesco's favour was the fact that the half-hour of grace +was now elapsed, and Gian Maria's guns continued silent. He drew their +attention to the fact with a laugh, and bade them go in peace, adding +the fresh assurance that those guns would not speak that day, nor the +next, nor indeed ever. + +Utterly conquered by Francesco and--perhaps even more--by his unexpected +ally, Cappoccio, they slunk shamefacedly away to the food and drink that +he bade them seek at Fra Domenico's hands. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. THE LOVERS + + +"How came that letter to your hands?" Valentina asked Gonzaga, when +presently they stood together in the courtyard, whither the courtier had +followed her when she descended. + +"Wrapped round an arbalest-bolt that fell on the ramparts yesterday +whilst I was walking there alone," returned Gonzaga coolly. + +He had by now regained his composure. He saw that he stood in deadly +peril, and the very fear that possessed him seemed, by an odd paradox, +to lend him the strength to play his part. + +Valentina eyed him with a something of mistrust in her glance. But on +Francesco's clear countenance no shadow of suspicion showed. His eyes +almost smiled as he asked Gonzaga: + +"Why did you not bear it to Monna Valentina?" + +A flush reddened the courtier's cheeks. He shrugged his shoulders +impatiently, and in a voice that choked with anger he delivered his +reply. + +"To you, sir, who seem bred in camps and reared in guard-rooms, the +fulness of this insult offered me by Gian Maria may not be apparent. It +may not be yours to perceive that the very contact of that letter soiled +my hands, that it shamed me unutterably to think that that loutish +Duke should have deemed me a target for such a shaft. It were idle, +therefore, to seek to make you understand how little I could bear to +submit to the further shame of allowing another to see the affront that +I was powerless to avenge. I did, sir, with that letter the only thing +conceivable. I crumpled it in my hand and cast it from me, just as I +sought to cast its contents from my mind. But your watchful spies, Ser +Francesco, bore it to you, and if my shame has been paraded before the +eyes of that rabble soldiery, at least it has served the purpose of +saving Monna Valentina. To do that, I would, if the need arose, immolate +more than the pride that caused me to be silent on the matter of this +communication." + +He spoke with such heat of sincerity that he convinced both Francesco +and Valentina, and the lady's eyes took on a softer expression as she +surveyed Gonzaga--this poor Gonzaga whom, her heart told her, she had +sorely wronged in thought. Francesco, ever generous, took his passionate +utterances in excellent part. + +"Messer Gonzaga, I understand your scruples. You do me wrong to think +that I should fail in that." + +He checked the suggestion he was on the point of renewing that, +nevertheless, Gonzaga would have been better advised to have laid that +letter at once before Monna Valentina. Instead, he dismissed the subject +with a laugh, and proposed that they should break their fast so soon as +he had put off his harness. + +He went to do so, whilst Valentina bent her steps towards the +dining-room, attended by Gonzaga, to whom she now sought to make amends +for her suspicions by an almost excessive friendliness of bearing. + +But there was one whom Gonzaga's high-sounding words in connection with +that letter had left cold. This was Peppe, that most wise of fools. He +hastened after Francesco, and while the knight was disarming he came to +voice his suspicions. But Francesco drove him out with impatience, and +Peppe went sorrowing and swearing that the wisdom of the fool was truly +better than the folly of the wise. + +Throughout that day Gonzaga hardly stirred from Valentina's side. +He talked with her in the morning at great length and upon subjects +poetical or erudite, by which he meant to display his vast mental +superiority over the swashbuckling Francesco. In the evening, when the +heat of the day was spent, and whilst that same Messer Francesco was +at some defensive measures on the walls, Gonzaga played at bowls with +Valentina and her ladies--the latter having now recovered from the panic +to which earlier they had been a prey. + +That morning Gonzaga had stood at bay, seeing his plans crumble. That +evening, after the day spent in Valentina's company--and she so sweet +and kind to him--he began to take heart of grace once more, and his +volatile mind whispered to his soul the hope that, after all, things +might well be as he had first intended, if he but played his cards +adroitly, and did not mar his chances by the precipitancy that had once +gone near to losing him. His purpose gathered strength from a message +that came that evening from Gian Maria, who was by then assured that +Gonzaga's plan had failed. He sent word that, being unwilling to provoke +the bloodshed threatened by the reckless madman who called himself Monna +Valentina's Provost, he would delay the bombardment, hoping that in +the meantime hunger would beget in that rebellious garrison a more +submissive mood. + +Francesco read the message to Madonna's soldiers, and they received it +joyously. Their confidence in him increased a hundredfold by this proof +of the accuracy of his foresight. They were a gay company at supper in +consequence, and gayest of all was Messer Gonzaga, most bravely dressed +in a purple suit of taby silk to honour so portentous an occasion. + +Francesco was the first to quit the table, craving Monna Valentina's +leave to be about some duty that took him to the walls. She let him go, +and afterwards sat pensive, nor heeded now Romeo's light chatter, nor +yet the sonnet of Petrarca that presently he sang the company. Her +thoughts were all with him that had left the board. Scarcely a word had +she exchanged with Francesco since that delirious moment when they had +looked into each other's eyes upon the ramparts, and seen the secret +that each was keeping from the other. Why had he not come to her? she +asked herself. And then she bethought her of how Gonzaga had all day +long been glued to her side, and she realised, too, that it was she had +shunned Francesco's company, grown of a sudden strangely shy. + +But greater than her shyness was now her desire to be near him, and to +hear his voice; to have him look again upon her as he had looked that +morning, when in terror for him she had sought to dissuade him from +opposing the craven impulse of her men-at-arms. A woman of mature age, +or one riper in experience, would have waited for him to seek her out. +But Valentina, in her sweet naturalness, thought never of subterfuge or +of dalliant wiles. She rose quietly from the table ere Gonzaga's song +was done, and as quietly she slipped from the room. + +It was a fine night, the air heavy with the vernal scent of fertile +lands, and the deep cobalt of the heavens a glittering, star-flecked +dome in a lighter space of which floated the half-disk of the growing +moon. Such a moon, she bethought her, as she had looked at with thoughts +of him, the night after their brief meeting at Acquasparta. She had +gained that north rampart on which he had announced that duty took him, +and yonder she saw a man---the only tenant of the wall--leaning upon the +embattled parapet, looking down at the lights of Gian Maria's camp. He +was bareheaded, and by the gold coif that gleamed in his hair she knew +him. Softly she stole up behind him. + +"Do we dream here, Messer Francesco?" she asked him, as she reached his +side, and there was laughter running through her words. + +He started round at the sound of her voice, then he laughed too, softly +and gladly. + +"It is a night for dreams, and I was dreaming indeed. But you have +scattered them." + +"You grieve me," she rallied him. "For assuredly they were pleasant, +since, to come here and indulge them, you left--us." + +"Aye--they were pleasant," he answered. "And yet, they were fraught with +a certain sadness, but idle as is the stuff of dreams. They were yours +to dispel, for they were of you." + +"Of me?" she questioned, her heart-beats quickening and bringing to her +cheeks a flush that she thanked the night for concealing. + +"Yes, Madonna--of you and our first meeting in the woods at Acquasparta. +Do you recall it?" + +"I do, I do," she murmured fondly. + +"And do you recall how I then swore myself your knight and ever your +champion? Little did we dream how the honour that I sighed for was to be +mine." + +She made him no answer, her mind harking back to that first meeting on +which so often and so fondly she had pondered. + +"I was thinking, too," he said presently, "of that man Gian Maria in the +plain yonder, and of this shameful siege." + +"You--you have no misgivings?" she faltered, for his words had +disappointed her a little. + +"Misgivings?" + +"For being here with me. For being implicated in what they call my +rebellion?" + +He laughed softly, his eyes upon the silver gleam of waters below. + +"My misgivings are all for the time when this siege shall be ended; when +you and I shall have gone each our separate way," he answered boldly. +He turned to face her now, and his voice rang a little tense. "But for +being here to guide this fine resistance and lend you the little aid I +can---- No, no, I have no misgiving for that. It is the dearest frolic +ever my soldiering led me into. I came to Roccaleone with a message of +warning; but underneath, deep down in my heart, I bore the hope that +mine should be more than a messenger's part; that mine it might be to +remain by you and do such work as I am doing." + +"Without you they would have forced me by now to surrender." + +"Perhaps they would. But while I am here I do not think they will. I +burn for news of Babbiano. If I could but tell what is happening there +I might cheer you with the assurance that this siege can last but a few +days longer. Gian Maria must get him home or submit to the loss of +his throne. And if he loses that your uncle would no longer support so +strenuously his suit with you. To you, Madonna, this must be a cheering +thought. To me--alas! Why should I hope for it?" + +He was looking away now into the night, but his voice quivered with the +emotion that was in him. She was silent, and emboldened perhaps by +that silence of hers, encouraged by the memory of what he had seen that +morning reflected in her eyes: + +"Madonna," he cried, "I would it might be mine to cut a road for you +through that besieging camp, and bear you away to some blessed place +where there are neither courts nor princes. But since this may not be, +Madonna mia, I would that this siege might last for ever." + +And then--was it the night breeze faintly stirring through his hair that +mocked him with the whisper, "So indeed would I?" He turned to her, his +hand, brown and nervous, fell upon hers, ivory-white, where it rested on +the stone. + +"Valentina!" he cried, his voice no louder than a whisper, his eyes +ardently seeking her averted ones. And then, as suddenly as it had leapt +up, was the fire in his glance extinguished. He withdrew his hand from +hers, he sighed, and shifted his gaze to the camp once more. "Forgive, +forget, Madonna," he murmured bitterly, "that which in my madness I have +presumed." + +Silent she stood for a long moment; then she edged nearer to him, and +her voice murmured back: "What if I account it no presumption?" + +With a gasp he swung round to face her, and they stood very close, +glance holding glance, and hers the less timid of the two. They thus +remained for a little space. Then shaking his head and speaking with an +infinite sadness: + +"It were better that you did, Madonna," he made answer. + +"Better? But why?" + +"Because I am no duke, Madonna." + +"And what of that?" she cried, to add with scorn: "Out yonder sits a +duke. Oh, sir, how shall I account presumptuous in you the very words +that I would hear? What does your rank signify to me? I know you for the +truest knight, the noblest gentleman, and the most valiant friend +that ever came to the aid of distressed maiden. Do you forget the very +principles that have led me to make this resistance? That I am a woman, +and ask of life no more than is a woman's due--and no less." + +There she stopped; again the blood suffused her cheeks as she bethought +her of how fast she talked, and of how bold her words might sound. She +turned slightly from him, and leant now upon the parapet, gazing out +into the night. And as she stood thus, a very ardent voice it was that +whispered in her ear: + +"Valentina, by my soul, I love you!" And there that whisper, which +filled her with an ecstasy that was almost painful in its poignancy, +ended sharply as if throttled. Again his hand sought hers, which was +yielded to him as she would have yielded her whole life at his sweet +bidding, and now his voice came less passionately. + +"Why delude ourselves with cruel hopes, my Valentina?" he was saying. +"There is the future. There is the time when this siege shall be done +with, and when, Gian Maria having got him home, you will be free to +depart. Whither will you go?" + +She looked at him as if she did not understand the question, and her +eyes were troubled, although in such light as there was he could scarce +see this. + +"I will go whither you bid me. Where else have I to go?" she added, with +a note of bitterness. + +He started. Her answer was so far from what he had expected. + +"But your uncle----?" + +"What duty do I owe to him? Oh, I have thought of it, and until--until +this morning, it seemed that a convent must be my ultimate refuge. I +have spent most of my young life at Santa Sofia, and the little that I +have seen of the world at my uncle's court scarce invites me to see +more of it. The Mother Abbess loved me a little. She would take me back, +unless----" + +She broke off and looked at him, and before that look of absolute and +sweet surrender his senses swam. That she was niece to the Duke +of Urbino he remembered no more than that he was Count of Aquila, +well-born, but of none too rich estate, and certainly no more a +match for her in Guidobaldo's eyes than if he had been the simple +knight-errant that he seemed. + +He moved closer to her, his hands--as if obeying a bidding greater than +his will, the bidding of that glance of hers, perhaps--took her by the +shoulders, whilst his whole soul looked at her from his eyes. Then, with +a stifled cry, he caught her to him. For a moment she lay, palpitant, +within his arms, her tall, bronze head on a level with his chin, her +heart beating against his heart. Stooping suddenly, he kissed her on the +lips. She suffered it with an unresistance that invited. But when it +was done, she gently put him from her; and he, obedient to her slightest +wish, curbed the wild ardour of his mood, and set her free. + +"Anima mia!" he cried rapturously. "You are mine now, betide what may. +Not Gian Maria nor all the dukes in Christendom shall take you from me." + +She set her hand upon his lips to silence him, and he kissed the palm, +so that laughing she drew back again. And now from laughter she passed +to a great solemnity, and with arm outstretched towards the ducal camp: +"Win me a way through those lines," said she, "and bear me away from +Urbino--far away where Guidobaldo's power and the vengeance of Gian +Maria may not follow us--and you shall have won me for your own. But +until then, let there be a truce to--to this, between us. Here is a +man's work to be done, and if I am weak as to-night, I may weaken you, +and then we should both be undone. It is upon your strength I count, +Franceschino mio, my true knight." + +He would have answered her. He had much to tell her--who and what he +was. But she pointed to the head of the steps, where a man's figure +loomed. + +"Yonder comes the sentinel," she said. "Leave me now, dear Francesco. +Go. It is growing late." + +He bowed low before her, obedient ever, like the true knight he was, and +took his leave of her, his soul on fire. + +Valentina watched his retreating figure until it had vanished round the +angle of the wall. Then with a profound sigh, that was as a prayer of +thanksgiving for this great good that had come into her life, she leaned +upon the parapet and looked out into the darkness, her cheeks flushed, +her heart still beating high. She laughed softly to herself out of the +pure happiness of her mood. The camp of Gian Maria became a subject for +her scorn. What should his might avail whilst she had such a champion to +defend her now and hereafter? + +There was an irony in that siege on which her fancy fastened. By coming +thus in arms against her Gian Maria sought to win her for his wife; yet +all that he had accomplished was to place her in the arms of the one +man whom she had learnt to love by virtue of this very siege. The mellow +warmth of the night, the ambient perfume of the fields were well-sorted +to her mood, and the faint breeze that breathed caressingly upon her +cheek seemed to re-echo the melodies her heart was giving forth. In that +hour those old grey walls of Roccaleone seemed to enclose for her a +very paradise, and the snatch of an old love song stole softly from her +parted lips. But like a paradise--alas!--it had its snake that crept up +unheard behind her, and was presently hissing in her ear. And its voice +was the voice of Romeo Gonzaga. + +"It comforts me, Madonna, that there is one, at least, in Roccaleone has +the heart to sing." + +Startled out of her happy pensiveness by that smooth and now unutterably +sinister voice, she turned to face its owner. + +She saw the white gleam of his face and something of the anger that +smouldered in his eye, and despite herself a thrill of alarm ran through +her like a shudder. She looked beyond him to a spot where lately she +had seen the sentry. There was no one there nor anywhere upon that wall. +They were alone, and Messer Gonzaga looked singularly evil. + +For a moment there was a tense silence, broken only by the tumbling +waters of the torrent-moat and the hoarse challenge of a sentry's "Chi +va la?" in Gian Maria's camp. Then she turned nervously, wondering +how much he might have heard of what had passed between herself and +Francesco, how much have seen. + +"And yet, Gonzaga," she answered him, "I left you singing below when I +came away." + +"--To wanton it here in the moonlight with that damned swashbuckler, +that brigand, that kennel-bred beast of a sbirro!" + +"Gonzaga! You would dare!" + +"Dare?" he mocked her, beside himself with passion. "Is it you who speak +of daring--you, the niece of Guidobaldo da Montefeltro, a lady of the +noble and illustrious house of Rovere, who cast yourself into the arms +of a low-born vassal such as that, a masnadiero, a bandit, a bravo? +And can you yet speak of daring, and take that tone with me, when shame +should strike you either dead or dumb?" + +"Gonzaga," she answered him, her face as white as his own, but her voice +steady and hard with anger, "leave me now--upon the instant, or I will +have you flogged--flogged to the bone." + +A moment he stared at her like a man dazed. Then he tossed his arms +to Heaven, and letting them fall heavily to his sides, he shrugged his +shoulders and laughed evilly. But of going he made no shift. + +"Call your men," he answered her, in a choking voice. "Do your will on +me. Flog me to the bone or to the death--let that be the reward of all +that I have done, all that I have risked, all that I have sacrificed to +serve you. It were of a piece with your other actions." + +Her eyes sought his in the gloom, her bosom heaving wildly in her +endeavours to master herself before she spoke. + +"Messer Gonzaga," said she at last, "I'll not deny that you served me +faithfully in the matter of my escape from Urbino----" + +"Why speak of it?" he sneered. "It was a service of which you but avail +yourself until another offered on whom you might bestow your favour and +the supreme command of your fortress. Why speak of it?" + +"To show you that the service you allude to is now paid," she riposted +sternly. "By reproaching me you have taken payment, and by insulting me +you have stamped out my gratitude." + +"A most convenient logic yours," he mocked. "I am cast aside like an +outworn garment, and the garment is accounted paid for because through +much hard usage it has come to look a little threadbare." + +And now it entered her mind that perhaps there was some justice in what +he said. Perhaps she had used him a little hardly. + +"Do you think, Gonzaga," she said, and her tone was now a shade more +gentle, "that because you have served me you may affront me, and that +knight who has served me, also, and----" + +"In what can such service as his compare with mine? What has he done +that I have not done more?" + +"Why, when the men rebelled here----" + +"Bah! Cite me not that. Body of God! it is his trade to lead such swine. +He is one of themselves. But for the rest, what has such a man as this +to lose by his share in your rebellion, compared with such a loss as +mine must be?" + +"Why, if things go ill, I take it he may lose his life," she answered, +in a low voice. "Can you lose more?" + +He made a gesture of impatience. + +"If things go ill--yes. It may cost him dearly. But if they go well, +and this siege is raised, he has nothing more to fear. Mine is a parlous +case. However ends this siege, for me there will be no escape from the +vengeance of Gian Maria and Guidobaldo. They know my share in it. They +know that your action was helped by me, and that without me you could +never have equipped yourself for such resistance. Whatever may betide +you and this Ser Franceseo, for me there will be no escape." + +She drew a deep breath, then set him the obvious question: + +"Did you not consider it--did you not weigh these chances--before you +embarked upon this business, before you, yourself, urged me to this +step?" + +"Aye, did I," he answered sullenly. + +"Then, why these complaints now?" + +He was singularly, madly frank with her in his reply. He told her that +he had done it because he loved her, because she had given him signs +that his love was not in vain. + +"I gave you signs?" she interrupted him. "Mother in Heaven! Recite these +signs that I may know them." + +"Were you not ever kind to me?" he demanded. "Did you not ever manifest +a liking for my company? Were you not ever pleased that I should sing +to you the songs that in your honour I had made? Was it not to me you +turned in the hour of your need?" + +"See now how poor a thing you are, Gonzaga?" she answered witheringly. +"A woman may not smile on you, may not give you a kind word, may not +suffer you to sing to her, but you must conclude she is enamoured of +you. And if I turned to you in my hour of need, as you remind me, needs +that be a sign of my infatuation? Does every cavalier so think when +a helpless woman turns to him in her distress? But even so," she +continued, "how should all that diminish the peril you now talk of? +Even were your suit with me to prosper, would that make you any the less +Romeo Gonzaga, the butt of the anger of my uncle and Gian Maria? Rather +do I think that it should make you more." + +But he disillusioned her. He did not scruple, in his angry mood, to lay +before her his reasonings that as her husband he would be screened. + +She laughed aloud at that. + +"And so it is by such sophistries as these that your presumption came to +life?" + +That stung him. Quivering with the passion that obsessed him, he stepped +close up to her. + +"Tell me, Madonna--why shall we account presumption in Romeo Gonzaga a +suit that in a nameless adventurer we encourage?" he asked, his voice +thick and tremulous. + +"Have a care," she bade him. + +"A care of what?" he flashed back. "Answer me, Monna Valentina. Am I +so base a man that by the very thought of love for you I must presume, +whilst you can give yourself into the arms of this swashbuckling bravo, +and take his kisses? Your reasoning sorts ill with your deeds." + +"Craven!" she answered him. "Dog that you are!" And before the blaze of +passion in her eyes he recoiled, his courage faltering. She cropped her +anger in mid-career, and in a dangerously calm voice she bade him see +to it that by morning he was no longer in Roccaleone. "Profit by the +night," she counselled him, "and escape the vigilance of Gian Maria as +best you can. Here you shall not stay." + +At that a great fear took possession of him, putting to flight the last +remnant of his anger. Nor fear alone was it, to do him full justice. It +was also the realisation that if he would take payment from her for this +treatment of him, if he would slake his vengeance, he must stay. One +plan had failed him. But his mind was fertile, and he might devise +another that might succeed and place Gian Maria in Roccaleone. Thus +should he be amply venged. She was turning away, having pronounced his +banishment, but he sprang after her, and upon his knees he now besought +her piteously to hear him yet awhile. + +And she, regretting her already of her harshness, and thinking that +perhaps in his jealousy he had been scarce responsible for what he had +said, stood still to hear him. + +"Not that, not that, Madonna," he wailed, his tone suggesting the +imminence of tears. "Do not send me away. If die I must, let me die here +at Roccaleone, helping the defence to my last breath. But do not cast me +out to fall into the hands of Gian Maria. He will hang me for my share +in this business. Do not requite me thus, Madonna. You owe me a little, +surely, and if I was mad when I talked to you just now, it was love of +you that drove me--love of you and suspicion of that man of whom none of +us know anything. Madonna, be pitiful a little. Suffer me to remain." + +She looked down at him, her mind swayed between pity and contempt. Then +pity won the day in the wayward but ever gentle heart of Valentina. She +bade him rise. + +"And go, Gonzaga. Get you to bed, and sleep you into a saner frame of +mind. We will forget all this that you have said, so that you never +speak of it again--nor of this love you say you bear me." + +The hypocrite caught the hem of her cloak, and bore it to his lips. + +"May God keep your heart ever as pure and noble and forgiving," he +murmured brokenly. "I know how little I am deserving of your clemency. +But I shall repay you, Madonna," he protested--and truly meant it, +though not in the sense it seemed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. THE PENITENT + + +A week passed peacefully at Roccaleone; so peacefully that it was +difficult to conceive that out there in the plain sat Gian Maria with +his five-score men besieging them. + +This inaction fretted the Count of Aquila, as did the lack of news from +Fanfulla; and he wondered vaguely what might be taking place at Babbiano +that Gian Maria should be content to sit idly before them, as though he +had months at his disposal in which to starve them into yielding. The +mystery would have been dispelled had he known that he had Gonzaga to +thank for this singular patience of Gian Maria's. For the courtier had +found occasion to send another letter-carrying shaft into the Duke's +camp, informing him of how and why the last plot had failed, and urging +Gian Maria to wait and trust in him to devise a better scheme for +delivering the castle into his power. He had promised boldly and +confidently enough, and Gian Maria--facts showed--had trusted to that +promise of his, and awaited its fulfilment. But tax his mind though he +did incessantly, no inspiration came to him, no scheme suggested itself +by which he might accomplish his treacherous purpose. + +He employed the time cunningly to win back Valentina's favour and +confidence. On the morning after his stormy interview with Guidobaldo's +niece, he had confessed himself to Fra Domenico, and approached the +Sacrament. Every morning thereafter he appeared at Mass, and by the +piety and fervour of his devotions became an example to all the others. +Now this was not lost on Valentina, who was convent-bred, and in a +measure devout. She read in this singular alteration of his ways the +undoubtable indication of an altered character. That he had approached +the Sacrament on the morning after his wild words to her, she took +to mean that he repented him the viciousness of the animosity he +had entertained that he continued so extremely devout thereafter she +construed into meaning that his repentance was sincere and persistent. + +And so she came to ask herself whether, indeed, he had not been as much +sinned against as sinning, and she ended by assuring herself that in a +measure the fault was hers. Seeing him so penitent, and concluding from +it that he was not likely to transgress again, she readmitted him to her +favour, and, little by little, the old friendly state was re-established +and was the sounder, perhaps, by virtue of her confidence that after +what had passed he would not again misunderstand her. + +He did not, nor did he again allow his optimism and ever-ready vanity to +cozen him with false hopes. He read her with exact precision, and whilst +the reading but served to embitter him the more and render him more +steadfast in his vengeful purpose, it, nevertheless, made him smile the +more sweetly and fawn the more obsequiously. + +And not content with this, he did not limit his sycophancy to Valentina, +but sought also by a smiling persistence to ingratiate himself +with Francesco. No voice in Roccaleone--not even that of the bully +Ercole--was raised more often or more enthusiastically to praise and +glorify their Provost. Valentina, observing this, and accepting it as +another sign of his contrition for the past and purpose of amendment +for the future, grew yet more cordial towards him. He was not lacking in +astuteness, this pretty Ser Romeo, nor in knowledge of a woman's heart, +and the apprehension of the fact that there is no flattery she prefers +to that which has for object the man she loves. + +Thus did Gonzaga conquer the confidence and esteem of all during that +peaceful week. He seemed a changed man, and all save Peppe saw in this +change a matter for increased trust and friendship towards him. But the +astute fool looked on and pondered. Such transformations as these were +not effected in a night. He was no believer in any human chrysalis that +shall make of the grub of yesterday the butterfly of to-day. And so, in +this fawning, smiling, subservient Gonzaga, he saw nothing but an object +of mistrust, a fellow to be watched with the utmost vigilance. To this +vigilance the hunchback applied himself with a zeal born of his cordial +detestation of the courtier. But Gonzaga, aware of the fool's mistrust +and watchfulness, contrived for once to elude him, and to get a letter +to Gian Maria setting forth the ingenious plan he had hatched. + +The notion had come to him that Sunday at Mass. On all sanctified days +it was Monna Valentina's way to insist that the entire garrison, with +the exception of one single sentinel--and this only at Francesco's very +earnest urging--should attend the morning service. Like an inspiration +it came to him that such a half-hour as that would be a most opportune +season in which to throw open the gates of Roccaleone to the besiegers. +The following Wednesday was the feast of Corpus Christi. Then would be +his opportunity. + +Kneeling there, with head bent in ecstatic devotion, he matured his +treacherous plan. The single sentry he could suborn, or else--if bribery +failed--poniard. He realised that single-handed he might not lower the +cumbrous drawbridge, nor would it be wise, even if possible, for the +noise of it might give the alarm. But there was the postern. Gian Maria +must construct him a light, portable bridge, and have it in readiness +to span the moat and silently pour his soldiers into the castle through +that little gate. + +And so, the plot matured and every detail clear, he got him to his +chamber and penned the letter that was to rejoice the heart of Gian +Maria. He chose a favourable moment to despatch it, as he had despatched +the former ones, tied about the quarrel of an arbalest, and he saw Gian +Maria's signal--for which the letter had provided--that the plan would +be adopted. Humming a gay measure, jubilant at the prospect of seeing +himself so amply avenged, Gonzaga passed down and out into the castle +gardens to join the ladies in their merry-making over a game of hoodman +blind. + +Now, however much the Duke of Babbiano may have congratulated himself +upon the ally he possessed in Gonzaga, and the cunning scheme the latter +had devised for placing him in possession of Roccaleone, there came +news to him on the morrow that caused him to rejoice a hundredfold more +fervently. His subjects of Babbiano were in a condition approaching open +rebellion, resulting from the disquieting rumours that Caesar Borgia was +arming at Rome for a decent upon the Duchy, and the continued absence of +Gian Maria in such a season, upon a wooing that they deemed ill-timed. A +strong party had been formed, and the leaders had nailed upon the Palace +gates a proclamation that, unless Gian Maria returned within three days +to organise the defence of Babbiano, they would depose him and repair to +Aquila to invite his cousin, Francesco del Falco--whose patriotism and +military skill were known to all--to assume the crown of Babbiano and +protect them. + +At the news, and upon reading the proclamation, which Alvari had brought +with him, Gian Maria flew into one of those fits of rage that made his +name a byword in Babbiano. Presently, however, he cooled. There +was Gonzaga yonder, who had promised to admit him to Roccaleone on +Wednesday. That left him time to first possess himself of his reluctant +bride, and then ride hard to Babbiano, to arrive there before the expiry +of the three days' grace his subjects gave him. + +He conferred with Guidobaldo, and urged that a priest should be in +waiting to wed them so soon as he should have brought her out of the +fortress. Upon that detail they were within an ace of quarrelling. +Guidobaldo would not at first agree to such hasty nuptials; they were +unfitting the dignity and the station of his niece, and if Gian Maria +would wed her he must come to Urbino and let the ceremony be performed +by a cardinal. Well was it then for Gian Maria that he mastered his +wonted hastiness and curbed the hot, defiant retort that rose to his +lips. Had he done so, an enduring rupture between them would probably +have ensued; for Guidobaldo was not one to permit himself to be +hectored, and, after all, he amply realised that Gian Maria had more +need of him than he of Gian Maria. And this in that moment the Duke of +Babbiano realised too, and realising it he set himself to plead +where otherwise he might have demanded, to beg as a favour that +which otherwise he might have commanded with a threat. And so he won +Guidobaldo--although reluctant--to his wishes in the matter, and in +his good-nature the Duke of Urbino consented to pocket the dignity that +prompted him to see the ceremony performed with princely pomp. + +This being settled, Gian Maria blessed Gonzaga who rendered it all +possible, and came most opportunely to his aid where without him he +should have been forced to resort to cannon and bloodshed. + +With Gonzaga the only shadow of doubt that remained to mar the perfect +certainty of his success lay in his appreciation of Francesco's daring +character and resourceful mind, and now as if the gods were eager to +favour him to the very last degree--a strange weapon to combat this was +unexpectedly thrust into his hand. + +It happened that Alvari was not the only messenger who travelled that +day to Roccaleone. There followed him by some hours, the Count of +Aquila's servant, Zaccaria, who rode hard and reached the approaches of +the castle by sunset. His destination being the fortress itself, he was +forced to wait in the woods until night had fallen, and even then his +mission was fraught with peril. + +It befell that somewhere near the second hour of night, the moon being +overcast at the time--for there were threats of a storm in the sky--the +sentinel on the eastern wall heard a sound of splashing in the moat +below, accompanied by the stertorous breathing of a swimmer whose mouth +is not well above water. He challenged the sound, but receiving no reply +he turned to go and give the alarm, and ran into the arms of Gonzaga, +who had come up to take the air. + +"Illustrious," he exclaimed, "there is someone swimming the moat." + +"Eh?" cried Gonzaga, a hundred suspicions of Gian Maria running through +his mind. "Treachery?" + +"It is what I thought." + +Gonzaga took the man by the sleeve of his doublet, and drew him back to +the parapet. They peered over, and from out of the blackness they were +hailed by a faint "Ola!" + +"Who goes there?" demanded Romeo. + +"A friend," came the answer softly. "A messenger from Babbiano with +letters for the Lord Count of Aquila. Throw me a rope, friends, before I +drown in this trough." + +"You rave, fool!" answered him Gonzaga. "We have no counts at +Roccaleone." + +"Surely, sir sentinel," replied the voice, "my master, Messer Francesco +del Falco, is here. Throw me a rope, I say." + +"Messer Fran----" began Gonzaga. Then he made a noise like a man +choking. It was as if a sudden light of revelation had flooded his +brain. "Get a rope," he harshly bade the sentry. "In the armoury yard. +Despatch, fool!" he added sharply, now fearing interruption. + +In a moment the man was back, and the rope was lowered to the visitor +below. A few seconds later Zaccaria stood on the ramparts of Roccaleone, +the water dripping from his sodden garments, and gathering in a pool +about his feet. + +"This way," said Gonzaga, leading the man towards the armoury tower, +where a lanthorn was burning. By the light of it he surveyed the +newcomer, and bade the sentry close the door and remain within call, +without. + +Zaccaria looked startled at the order. This was scarcely the reception +he had expected after so imperilling his life to reach the castle with +his letter. + +"Where is my lord?" he inquired, through teeth that chattered from +the cold of his immersion, wondering vaguely who this very magnificent +gentleman might be. + +"Is Messer Francesco del Falco your lord?" asked Romeo. + +"He is, sir. I have had the honour to serve him these ten years. I bring +him letters from Messer Fanfulla degli Arcipreti. They are very urgent. +Will you lead me to him?" + +"You are very wet," murmured Gonzaga solicitously. "You will take your +death from cold, and the death of a man so brave as to have found a way +through Gian Maria's lines were truly deplorable." He stepped to the +door. "Ola!" he called to the sentry. "Take this brave fellow up there +and find him a change of raiment." He pointed to the upper chamber of +the tower, where, indeed, such things were stored. + +"But my letters, sir!" cried Zaccaria impatiently. "They are very +urgent, and hours have I wasted already in waiting for the night." + +"Surely you can wait until you have changed your garments? Your life, I +take it, is of more account than the loss of a few moments." + +"But my orders from Messer degli Arcipreti were that I must not lose an +instant." + +"Oh, si, si!" cried Gonzaga, with a show of good-tempered impatience. +"Give me the letters, then, and I will take them to the Count while you +are stripping those wet clothes." + +Zaccaria eyed him a moment in doubt. But he looked so harmless in his +finery, and the expression of his comely face was so winning and honest, +that the man's hesitancy faded as soon as it sprang up. Removing his +cap, he drew from within the crown the letter, which he had placed there +to keep dry. This package he now handed to Gonzaga, who, with a final +word of instruction to the sentry touching the finding of raiment for +the messenger, stepped out to go his errand. But outside the door he +paused, and called the sentry to him again. + +"Here is a ducat for you," he whispered. "Do my bidding and you shall +have more. Detain him in the tower till I return, and on no account let +him be seen or heard by anyone." + +"Yes, Excellency," the man replied. "But what if the captain comes and +finds me absent from my post?" + +"I will provide for that. I will tell Messer Fortemani that I have +employed you on a special matter, and ask him to replace you. You are +dispensed sentry duty for to-night." + +The man bowed, and quietly withdrew to attend to his prisoner, for in +that light he now regarded Zaccaria. + +Gonzaga sought Fortemani in the guard-room below, and did as he had +promised the sentry. + +"But," snapped Ercole, reddening, "by whose authority have you done +this? By what right do you send sentinels on missions of your own? +Christo Santo! Is the castle to be invaded while you send my watchmen to +fetch your comfit-box or a book of verses?" + +"You will remember----" began Romeo, with an air of overwhelming +dignity. + +"Devil take you and him that sent you!" broke in the bully. "The Messer +Provost shall hear of this." + +"On no account," cried Gonzaga, now passing from anger to alarm, and +snatching the skirts of Fortemani's cloak as the captain was in the act +of going out to execute his threat. "Ser Ercole be reasonable, I beg +of you. Are we to alarm the castle and disturb Monna Valentina over a +trumpery affair such as this? Man, they will laugh at you." + +"Eh?" There was nothing Ercole relished less than to be laughed at. He +pondered a moment, and it occurred to him that perhaps he was making +much of nothing. Then: + +"You, Aventano," he called, "take your partisan, and patrol the eastern +rampart. There, Messer Gonzaga, I have obeyed your wishes; but Messer +Francesco shall hear of it when he comes his rounds." + +Gonzaga left him. Francesco would not make his rounds for another hour, +and by then it would not matter what Fortemani told him. In one way or +another he would be able to account for his action. + +He crossed the courtyard, and mounted the steps leading to his own +chamber. Once there, he closed and barred the door. He kindled a light, +and flinging the letter on the table, he sat and contemplated its +exterior and the great red seal that gleamed in the yellow light of his +taper. + +So! This knight-errant, this man whom he had accounted a low-born hind, +was none other than the famous Count of Aquila, the well-beloved of the +people of Babbiano, the beau-ideal of all military folk from Sicily to +the Alps. And he had never suspected it! Dull-witted did he now account +himself. Enough descriptions had he heard of that famous condottiero, +that mirror of Italian chivalry. He might have known that there did +not live two men of such commanding ways as he had seen instanced at +Roccaleone. What was his object there? Was it love of Valentina, or was +it----? He paused, as in his mind he made a swift review of the politics +of Babbiano. A sudden possibility occurred to him that made his eyes +sparkle and his hands tremble with eagerness. Was this but a political +scheme to undermine his cousin's throne, to which Gonzaga had heard it +rumoured that Francesco del Falco was an aspirant? If it were so, what a +vengeance would be his to unmask him! How it must humble Valentina! The +letter lay before him. Within it the true facts would be disclosed. What +did his friend Fanfulla write him? + +He took the letter up and made a close inspection of the seal. Then +softly, quietly, slowly he drew his dagger. If his suspicions were +unfounded, his dagger heated in the taper should afford him the means to +conceal the fact that he had tampered with that missive. He slipped his +blade under the seal, and worked it cautiously until it came up and set +the letter open. He unfolded it, and as he read his eyes dilated. He +seemed to crouch on his chair, and the hand that held the paper shook. +He drew the candle nearer, and shading his eyes he read it again, word +for word: + +"MY DEAR LORD COUNT,--I have delayed writing until the time when the +signs I observed should have become more definite, as they have now +done, so that I may delay no longer. This, then, goes by the hand of +Zaccaria, to tell you that to-day has word been sent Gian Maria giving +him three days in which to return to Babbiano, or to abandon all hope +of his crown, of which the people will send the offer then to you at +Aquila, where you are believed to be. So now, my dear lord, you have the +tyrant at your mercy, tossed between Scylla and Charybdis. Yours it is +to resolve how you will act; but I rejoice in being the one to send you +word that your presence at Roccaleone and your stubborn defence of +the fortress has not been vain, and that presently you are to reap the +well-earned reward of it. The people have been stirred to this extreme +action by the confusion prevailing here. + +"News has reached us that Caesar Borgia is arming, at Rome, a condotta +to invade Babbiano, and the people are exasperated at Gian Maria's +continued absence in such a season. They are short-sighted in this, for +they overlook the results that must attend the alliance with Urbino. May +God protect and prosper your Excellency, whose most devoted servant is + +"FANFULLA DEGLI AROIPRETI." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. A REVELATION + + +"Francesco," said Valentina, and the name came from her lips as if it +were an endearment, "why that frowning, care-worn look?" + +They were in the dining-room alone, where the others had left them, and +they were still seated at the table at which they had supped. Francesco +raised his dark, thoughtful eyes, and as they lighted now on Valentina +the thoughtfulness that was in them gave place to tenderness. + +"I am fretted by this lack of news," he acknowledged. "I would I knew +what is being done in Babbiano. I had thought that ere now Caesar Borgia +had stirred Gian Maria's subjects into some manner of action. I would I +knew!" + +She rose, and coming close to him, she stood with one hand resting upon +his shoulder, her eyes smiling down upon his upturned face. + +"And shall such a trifle fret you--you who professed a week ago that you +would this siege might last for ever?" + +"Account me not fickle, anima mia," he answered her, and he kissed the +ivory fingers that rested on his shoulder. "For that was before the +world changed for me at the magic of your bidding. And so," he repeated, +"I would I knew what is toward at Babbiano!" + +"But why sigh over a wish so idle?" she exclaimed. "By what means can +news reach you here of the happenings of the world without?" + +He pondered a moment, seeking words in which to answer her. A score of +times during that week had he been on the point of disclosing himself, +of telling her who and what he was. Yet ever had he hesitated, putting +off that disclosure until the season should appear more fitting. This he +now considered the present. She trusted him, and there was no reason to +remain silent longer. Perhaps already he had delayed too long, and so he +was about to speak when she started from his side, and crossed hastily +to the window, alarmed by the sound of approaching steps. A second later +the door opened, and Gonzaga appeared. + +A moment he hesitated in the doorway, looking from one to the other, and +Francesco, lazily regarding him in his turn, noted that his cheeks were +pale and that his eyes glittered like those of a man with the fever. +Then he stepped forward, and, leaving the door open behind him, he +advanced into the room. + +"Monna Valentina, I have something to communicate to you." His voice +shook slightly. "Messer--Francesco, will you give us leave?" And his +feverish eyes moved to the open door with an eloquence that asked no +words. + +Francesco rose slowly, endeavouring to repress his surprise and glanced +across at Valentina, as if awaiting her confirmation or refusal of this +request that he should leave them. + +"A communication for me?" she marvelled, a slight frown drawing her +brows together. "Of what nature, sir?" + +"Of a nature as important as it is private." + +She raised her chin, and with a patient smile she seemed to beg of +Francesco that he would suffer her to humour this mood of Gonzaga's. In +quick obedience Francesco inclined his head. + +"I shall be in my chamber until the hour of my rounds, Madonna," he +announced, and with that took his departure. + +Gonzaga attended him to the door, which he closed after him, and +composing his features to an expression of sorrowing indignation, he +came back and stood facing Valentina across the table. + +"Madonna," he said, "I would to Heaven this communication I have to make +to you came from other lips. In the light of what has passed--here at +Roccaleone--through my folly--you--you may think my mission charged with +vindictiveness." + +Perplexity stared at him from her eyes. + +"You fill me with alarm, my good Gonzaga," she answered him, though +smiling. + +"Alas it has fallen to my unfortunate lot to do more than that. I have +made the discovery of as foul a piece of treachery here in your fortress +as ever traitor hatched." + +She looked at him more seriously now. The vehemence of his tone, and the +suggestion of sorrow that ran through it and gave it so frank an accent, +commanded her attention. + +"Treachery!" she echoed, in a low voice, her eyes dilating. "And from +whom?" + +He hesitated a moment, then waving his hand: + +"Will you not sit, Madonna?" he suggested nervously. + +Mechanically she seated herself at the table, her eyes ever on his face, +alarm spreading in her heart, born of suspense. + +"Be seated too," she bade him, "and tell me." + +He drew up a chair, sat down opposite to her, and taking a deep breath: +"Heard you ever of the Count of Aquila?" he inquired. + +"It were odd if I had not. The most valiant knight in Italy, fame dubs +him." + +His eyes were intently on her face, and what he saw there satisfied him. + +"You know how he stands with the people of Babbiano?" + +"I know that he is beloved of them." + +"And do you know that he is a pretender to the throne of Babbiano? You +will remember that he is cousin to Gian Maria?" + +"His relationship to Gian Maria I know. That he pretends to the throne +of Babbiano I was not aware. But whither are we straying?" + +"We are not straying, Madonna," answered Gonzaga, "we are making a +straight line for the very heart and soul of this treachery I spoke of. +Would you believe me if I told you that here, in Roccaleone, we have +an agent of the Count of Aquila one who in the Count's interest is +protracting this siege with the pretended aim of driving Gian Maria +off." + +"Gonzaga----" she began, more than half guessing the drift of his +explanation. But he interrupted her with unusual brusqueness. + +"Wait, Madonna," he cried, his eyes upon her face, his hand imperiously +raised. "Hear me out in patience. I am not talking idly. Of what I tell +you I am armed with proof and witness. Such an agent of--of the Count's +interests we have among us, and his true object in protracting this +siege, and encouraging and aiding you in your resistance, is to outwear +the patience of the people of Babbiano with Gian Maria, and drive them +in the hour of their approaching peril from Caesar Borgia's armies to +bestow the throne on Aquila." + +"Where learnt you this foul lie?" she asked him, her cheeks crimson, her +eyes on fire. + +"Madonna," he said, in a patient voice, "this that you call a lie is +already an accomplished fact. I am not laying before you the fruits of +idle speculation. I have upon me the most positive proof that such +a result as was hoped for has already been reached. Gian Maria has +received from his subjects a notification that unless he is in his +capital within three days from this, they will invest the Lord of Aquila +with the ducal crown." + +She rose, her anger well controlled, her voice calm. + +"Where is this proof? No, no; I don't need to see it. Whatever it is, +what shall it prove to me? That your words, in so far as the politics +of Babbiano are concerned, may be true; our resistance of Gian Maria may +indeed be losing him his throne and doing good service to the cause of +the Count of Aquila; but how shall all this prove that lie of yours, +that Messer Francesco--for it is clearly of him you speak--that Messer +Francesco should be this agent of the Count's? It is a lie, Gonzaga, for +which you shall be punished as you deserve." + +She ceased, and stood awaiting his reply, and as she watched him his +calm demeanour struck a chill into her heart. He was so confident, so +full of assurance; and that, in Gonzaga, she had learnt to know meant a +strong bulwark 'twixt himself and danger. He sighed profoundly. + +"Madonna, these cruel words of yours do not wound me, since they are +no more than I expected. But it will wound me--and sorely--if when you +shall have learnt the rest you do not humbly acknowledge how you have +wronged me, how grossly you have misjudged me. You think I come to +you with evil in my heart, urged by a spirit of vindictiveness against +Messer Francesco. Instead, I come to you with nothing but a profound +sorrow that mine must be the voice to disillusion you, and a deep +indignation against him that has so foully used you to his own ends. +Wait, Madonna! In a measure you are right. It was not strictly true to +say that this Messer Francesco is the agent of the Count of Aquila." + +"Ah! You are recanting already?" + +"Only a little--an insignificant little. He is no agent because----" He +hesitated, and glanced swiftly up. Then he sighed, lowered his voice, +and with consummately simulated sorrow, he concluded "Because he is, +himself, Francesco del Falco. Count of Aquila." + +She swayed a moment, and the colour died from her cheeks, leaving them +ivory pale. She leaned heavily against the table, and turned over in her +mind what she had heard. And then, as suddenly as it had gone, the blood +rushed back into her face, mounting to her very temples. + +"It's a lie!" she blazed at him; "a lie for which you shall be whipped." + +He shrugged his shoulders, and cast Francesco's letter on to the table. + +"There, Madonna, is something that will prove all that I have said." + +She eyed the paper coldly. Her first impulse was to call Fortemani and +carry out her threat of having Gonzaga whipped, refusing so much as to +see this thing that he so confidently termed a proof; but it may be that +his confidence wrought upon her, touching a chord of feminine curiosity. +That he was wrong she never doubted; but that he believed himself right +she was also assured, and she wondered what this thing might be that +had so convinced him. Still she did not touch it, but asked in an +indifferent voice: + +"What is it?" + +"A letter that was brought hither to-night by a man who swam the moat, +and whom I have ordered to be detained in the armoury tower. It is from +Fanfulla degli Arcipreti to the Count of Aquila. If your memory will +bear you back to a certain day at Acquasparta, you may recall that +Fanfulla was the name of a very gallant cavalier who addressed this +Messer Francesco with marked respect." + +She took that backward mental glance he bade her, and remembered. Then +she remembered, too, how that very evening Francesco had said that he +was fretting for news of Babbiano, and that when she had asked how +he hoped that news could reach him at Roccaleone, Gonzaga had entered +before he answered her. Indeed, he had seemed to hesitate upon that +answer. A sudden chill encompassed her at that reflection. Oh, it was +impossible, absurd! And yet she took the letter from the table. With +knit brows she read it, whilst Gonzaga watched her, scarce able to keep +the satisfaction from gleaming in his eyes. + +She read it slowly, and as she read her face grew deathly pale. When +she had finished she stood silent for a long minute, her eyes upon +the signature and her mind harking back to what Gonzaga had said, and +drawing comparison between that and such things as had been done +and uttered, and nowhere did she find the slightest gleam of that +discrepancy which so ardently she sought. + +It was as if a hand were crushing the heart in her bosom. This man whom +she had trusted, this peerless champion of her cause, to be nothing but +a self-seeker, an intriguer, who, to advance his own ends, had made a +pawn of her. She thought of how for a moment he had held her in his arms +and kissed her, and at that her whole soul revolted against the notion +that here was no more than treachery. + +"It's all a plot against him!" she cried, her cheeks scarlet again. +"It's an infamous thing of your devising, Messer Gonzaga, an odious +lie!" + +"Madonna, the man that brought the letter is still detained. Confront +him with Messer Francesco; or apply the question to him, and learn +his master's true name and station. As for the rest, if that letter is +insufficient proof for you, I beg that you will look back at facts. Why +should he lie to you? and say that his name was Francesco Franceschi? +Why should he have urged you--against all reason--to remain here, when +he brought you news that Gian Maria was advancing? Surely had he but +sought to serve you he had better accomplished this by placing his own +castle of Aquila at your disposal, and leaving here an empty nest for +Gian Maria, as I urged." + +She sank to a chair, a fever in her mind. + +"I tell you, Madonna, there is no mistake. What I have said is true. +Another three days would he have held Gian Maria here, whilst if you +gave him that letter, it is odds he would slip away in the night of +to-morrow, that he might be in Babbiano on the third day to take the +throne his cousin treats so lightly. Sainted God!" he cried out. "I +think this is the most diabolically treacherous plot that ever mind of +man conceived and human heartlessness executed." + +"But--but----" she faltered, "all this is presupposing that Messer +Francesco is indeed the Count of Aquila. May there--may it not be that +this letter was meant for some other destination?" + +"Will you confront this messenger with the Count?" + +"With the Count?" she inquired dully. "With Messer Francesco, you mean?" +She shuddered, and with strange inconsistence: "No," she said, in a +choking voice, her lip twisting oddly at the corner. "I do not wish to +see his face again." + +A light gleamed in Gonzaga's eye, and was extinguished on the instant. + +"Best make certain," he suggested, rising. "I have ordered Fortemani +to bring Lanciotto here. He will be waiting now, without. Shall I admit +them?" + +She nodded without speaking, and Gonzaga opened the door, and called +Fortemani. A voice answered him from the gloom of the banqueting-hall. + +"Bring Lanciotto here," he commanded. + +When Francesco's servant entered, a look of surprise on his face at +these mysterious proceedings, it was Valentina who questioned him, and +that in a voice as cold as though the issue concerned her no whit. + +"Tell me, sirrah," she said, "and as you value your neck, see that you +answer me truly--what is your master's name?" + +Lanciotto looked from her to Gonzaga, who stood by, a cynical curl on +his sensual lips. + +"Answer Monna Valentina," the courtier urged him. "State your master's +true name and station." + +"But, lady," began Lanciotto, bewildered. + +"Answer me!" she stormed, her small clenched hands beating the table in +harsh impatience. And Lanciotto, seeing no help for it, answered: + +"Messer Francesco del Falco, Count of Aquila." + +Something that began in a sob and ended in a laugh burst from the lips +of Valentina. Ercole's eyes were wide at the news, and he might have +gone the length of interposing a question, when Gonzaga curtly bade +him go to the armoury tower, and bring thence the soldier and the man +Gonzaga had left in his care. + +"I will leave no shadow of doubt in your mind, Madonna," he said in +explanation. + +They waited in silence--for Lanciotto's presence hindered +conversation--until Ercole returned accompanied by the man-at-arms and +Zaccaria, who had now changed his raiment. Before they could question +the new-comer, such questions as they might have put were answered by +the greeting that passed between him and his fellow-servant Lanciotto. + +Gonzaga turned to Valentina. She sat very still, her tawny head bowed +and in her eyes a look of sore distress. And in that instant a brisk +step sounded without. The door was thrust open, and Francesco himself +stood upon the threshold, with Peppe's alarmed face showing behind him. +Gonzaga instinctively drew back a pace, and his countenance lost some of +its colour. + +At sight of Francesco, Zaccaria rushed forward and bowed profoundly. + +"My lord!" he greeted him. + +And if one little thing had been wanting to complete the evidence +against the Count, that thing, by an odd mischance, Francesco himself +seemed to supply. The strange group in that dining-room claiming +his attention, and the portentous air that hung about those present, +confirmed the warning Peppe had brought him that something was amiss. +He disregarded utterly his servant's greeting, and with eyes of a +perplexity that may have worn the look of alarm he sought the face of +Valentina. + +She rose upon the instant, an angry red colouring her cheeks. His very +glance, it seemed, was become an affront unbearable after what had +passed--for the memory of his kiss bit like a poisoned fang into +her brain. An odd laugh broke from her. She made a gesture towards +Francesco. + +"Fortemani, you will place the Count of Aquila under arrest," she +commanded, in a stern, steady voice, "and as you value your life you +will see that he does not elude you." + +The great bully hesitated. His knowledge of Francesco's methods was not +encouraging. + +"Madonna!" gasped Francesco, his bewilderment increasing. + +"Did you hear me, Fortemani," she demanded. "Remove him." + +"My lord?" cried Lanciotto, laying hand to his sword his eyes upon his +master's, ready to draw and lay about him at a glance of bidding. + +"Sh! Let be," answered Franeesco coldly. "Here, Messer Fortemani." And +he proffered his dagger, the only weapon that he carried. + +Valentina, calling Gonzaga to attend her, made shift to quit the +apartment. At that Francesco seemed to awaken to his position. + +"Madonna, wait," he cried, and he stepped deliberately before her. "You +must hear me. I have surrendered in earnest of my faith and confident +that once you have heard me----" + +"Captain Fortemani," she cried, almost angrily, "will you restrain your +prisoner? I wish to pass." + +Ercole, with visible reluctance, laid a hand on Francesco's shoulder; +but it was unnecessary. Before her words, the Count recoiled as if +he had been struck. He stood clear of her path with a gasp at once of +unbelief and angry resignation. An instant his eyes rested on Gonzaga, +so fiercely that the faint smile withered on the courtier's lips, and +his knees trembled under him as he hastened from the room in Valentina's +wake. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. IN THE ARMOURY TOWER + + +The rough stones of the inner courtyard shone clean and bright in +the morning sun, still wet with the heavy rains that had washed them +yesternight. + +The fool sat on a rude stool within the porch of the long gallery, and, +moodily eyeing that glistening pavement, ruminated. He was angry, +which, saving where Fra Domenico was concerned, was a rare thing with +good-humoured Peppe. He had sought to reason with Monna Valentina +touching the imprisonment in his chamber of Messer Francesco, and she +had bidden him confine his attention to his capers with a harshness +he had never known in her before. But he had braved her commands, and +astonished her with the information that the true identity of this +Messer Francesco had been known to him since that day when they had +first met him at Acquasparta. He had meant to say more. He had meant +to add the announcement of Francesco's banishment from Babbiano and his +notorious unwillingness to mount his cousin's throne. He had meant to +make her understand that had Francesco been so minded, he had no need +to stoop to such an act as this that she imputed to him. But she had cut +him short, and with angry words and angrier threats she had driven him +from her presence. + +And so she was gone to Mass, and the fool had taken shelter in the porch +of the gallery, that there he might vent some of his ill-humour--or +indeed indulge it--in pondering the obtuseness of woman and the +insidiousness of Gonzaga, to whom he never doubted that this miserable +state of things was due. + +And as he sat there--a grotesque, misshapen figure in gaudy motley--an +ungovernable rage possessed him. What was to become of them now? Without +the Count of Aquila's stern support the garrison would have forced her +to capitulate a week ago. What would betide, now that the restraint of +his formidable command was withdrawn? + +"She will know her folly when it's too late. It's the way of women," he +assured himself. And, loving his mistress as he did, his faithful soul +was stricken at the thought. He would wait there until she returned from +Mass, and then she should hear him--all should hear him. He would +not permit himself to be driven away again so easily. He was intently +turning over in his mind what he would say, with what startling, +pregnant sentence he would compel attention, when he was startled by +the appearance of a figure on the chapel steps. Sudden and quietly as an +apparition it came, but it bore the semblance of Romeo Gonzaga. + +At sight of him, Peppe instinctively drew back into the shadows of the +porch, his eyes discerning the suspicious furtiveness of the courtier's +movements, and watching them with a grim eagerness. He saw Romeo look +carefully about him, and then descend the steps on tiptoe, evidently +so that no echo of his footfalls should reach those within the chapel. +Then, never suspecting the presence of Peppe, he sped briskly across the +yard and vanished through the archway that led to the outer court. And +the fool, assured that some knowledge of the courtier's purpose would +not be amiss, set out to follow him. + +In his room under the Lion's Tower the Count of Aquila had spent a +restless night, exercised by those same fears touching the fate of +the castle that had beset the fool, but less readily attributing his +confinement to Gonzaga's scheming. Zaccaria's presence had told him that +Fanfulla must at last have written, and he could but assume that the +letter, falling into Monna Valentina's hands, should have contained +something that she construed into treason on his part. + +Bitterly he reproached himself now with not having from the very outset +been frank with her touching his identity; bitterly he reproached her +with not so much as giving a hearing to the man she had professed to +love. Had she but told him upon what grounds her suspicions against him +had been founded, he was assured that he could have dispelled them at +a word, making clear their baselessness and his own honesty of purpose +towards her. Most of all was he fretted by the fact that Zaccaria's +presence, after a coming so long expected and so long delayed, argued +that the news he bore was momentous. From this it might result that +Gian Maria should move at any moment and that his action might be of a +desperate character. + +Now through the ranks of Fortemani's men there had run an inevitable +dismay at Francesco's arrest, and a resentment against Valentina who +had encompassed it. His hand it was that had held them together, his +judgment--of which they had had unequivocal signs--that had given them +courage. He was a leader who had shown himself capable of leading, and +out of confidence for whom they would have undertaken anything that +he bade them. Whom had they now? Fortemani was but one of themselves, +placed in command over them by an event purely adventitious. Gonzaga was +a fop whose capers they mimicked and whose wits they despised; whilst +Valentina, though brave enough and high-spirited, remained a girl of no +worldly and less military knowledge, whose orders it might be suicidal +to carry out. + +Now by none were these opinions more strongly entertained than by +Ercole Fortemani himself. Never had he performed anything with greater +reluctance than the apprehension of Francesco, and when he thought of +what was likely to follow his consternation knew no bounds. He had come +to respect and, in his rough way, even to love their masterful Provost, +and since learning his true identity, in the hour of arresting him, his +admiration had grown to something akin to reverence for the condottiero +whose name to the men-at-arms of Italy was like the name of some patron +saint. + +To ensure the safe keeping of his captive, he had been ordered by +Gonzaga, who now resumed command of Roccaleone, to spend the night in +the ante-room of Francesco's chamber. These orders he had exceeded by +spending a considerable portion of the night in the Count's very room. + +"You have but to speak," the bully had sworn, by way of showing +Francesco the true nature of his feelings, "and the castle is yours. At +a word from you my men will flock to obey you, and you may do your will +at Roccaleone." + +"Foul traitor that you are," Francesco had laughed at him. "Do you +forget under whom you have taken service? Let be what is, Ercole. But +if a favour you would do me, let me see Zaccaria--the man that came to +Roccaleone to-night." + +This Ercole had done for him. Now Zaccaria was fully aware of the +contents of the letter he had carried, having been instructed by +Fanfulla against the chance arising of his being compelled, for his +safety, to destroy it--an expedient to which he now bitterly repented +him that he had not had recourse. From Zaccaria, then, Francesco learnt +all that there was to learn, and since the knowledge but confirmed his +fears that Gian Maria would delay action no longer, he fell a prey to +the most passionate impatience at his own detention. + +In the grey hours of the morning he grew calmer, and by the light of +a lamp that he had called Ercole to replenish, he sat down to write a +letter to Valentina, which he thought should carry conviction of his +honesty to her heart. Since she would not hear him, this was the only +course. At the end of an hour--his moribund light grown yellow now that +the sun was risen--his letter was accomplished, and he summoned Ercole +again, to charge him to deliver it at once to Monna Valentina. + +"I shall await her return from chapel," answered Ercole. He took the +letter and departed. As he emerged into the courtyard he was startled to +see the fool dash towards him, gasping for breath, and with excitement +in every line of his quaint face. + +"Quickly, Ercole!" Peppe enjoined him. "Come with me." + +"Devil take you, spawn of Satan--whither?" growled the soldier. + +"I will tell you as we go. We have not a moment to spare. There is +treachery afoot---- Gonzaga----" he gasped, and ended desperately: "Will +you come?" + +Fortemani needed no second bidding. The chance of catching pretty Messer +Romeo at a treachery was too sweet a lure. Snorting and puffing--for +hard drinking had sorely impaired his wind--the great captain hurried +the fool along, listening as they went to the gasps in which he brought +out his story. It was not much, after all. Peppe had seen Messer Gonzaga +repair to the armoury tower. Through an arrow-slit he had watched him +take down and examine an arbalest, place it on the table and sit down to +write. + +"Well?" demanded Ercole. "What else?" + +"Naught else. That is all," answered the hunchback. + +"Heaven and hell!" roared the swashbuckler, coming to a standstill and +glowering down upon his impatient companion. "And you have made me run +for this?" + +"And is it not enough?" retorted Peppe testily. "Will you come on?" + +"Not a foot farther," returned the captain, getting very angry. "Is this +a miserable jest? What of the treachery you spoke of?" + +"A letter and an arbalest!" panted the maddened Peppe, grimacing +horribly at this delay. "God, was there ever such a fool! Does this mean +nothing to that thick, empty thing you call a head? Have you forgotten +how Gian Maria's offer of a thousand florins came to Roccaleone? On an +arbalest quarrel, stupid! Come on, I say, and afterwards you shall have +my motley--the only livery you have a right to wear." + +In the shock of enlightenment Ercole forgot to cuff the jester for his +insolence, and allowed himself once more to be hurried along, across the +outer court and up the steps that led to the battlements. + +"You think----" he began. + +"I think you had best tread more softly," snapped the fool, under his +breath, "and control that thunderous wheeze, if you would surprise Ser +Romeo." + +Ercole accepted the hint, meek as a lamb, and leaving the fool behind +him on the steps, he went softly up, and approached the armoury tower. +Peering cautiously through the arrow-slit, and favoured by the fact that +Gonzaga's back was towards him, he saw that he was no more than in time. + +The courtier was bending down, and by the creaking sound that reached +him Ercole guessed his occupation to be the winding of the arbalest +string. On the table at his side lay a quarrel swathed in a sheet of +paper. + +Swiftly and silently Ercole moved round the tower, and the next instant +he had pushed open the unfastened door and entered. + +A scream of terror greeted him, and a very startled face was turned upon +him by Gonzaga, who instantly sprang upright. Then, seeing who it was, +the courtier's face reassumed some of its normal composure, but his +glance was uneasy and his cheek pale. + +"Sant Iddio!" he gasped. "You startled me, Ercole. I did not hear you +coming." + +And now something in the bully's face heightened the alarm in Gonzaga. +He still made an effort at self-control, as planting himself between +Ercole and the table, so as to screen the tell-tale shaft, he asked him +what he sought there. + +"That letter you have written Gian Maria," was the gruff, uncompromising +answer, for Ercole reeked nothing of diplomatic issues. + +Gonzaga's mouth jerked itself open, and his upper lip shuddered against +his teeth. + +"What---- Wha----" + +"Give me that letter," Ercole insisted, now advancing upon him, and +wearing an air of ferocity that drove back into Gonzaga's throat such +resentful words as he bethought him of. Then, like an animal at bay--and +even a rat will assert itself then--he swung aloft the heavy arbalest he +held, and stood barring Ercole's way. + +"Stand back!" he cried; "or by God and His saints, I'll beat your brains +out." + +There was a guttural laugh from the swashbuckler, and then his arms +were round Gonzaga's shapely waist, and the popinjay was lifted from his +feet. Viciously he brought down the cross-bow, as he had threatened; but +it smote the empty air. The next instant Gonzaga was hurtled, bruised, +into a corner of the tower. + +In a rage so great that he felt it draining him of his very strength +and choking the breath in his body, he made a movement to rise and fling +himself again upon his aggressor. But Fortemani was down upon him, and +for all his struggles contrived to turn him over on his face, twisting +his arms behind him, and making them fast with a belt that lay at hand. + +"Lie still, you scorpion!" growled the ruffler, breathing hard from his +exertions. He rose, took the shaft with the letter tied about it, read +the superscription--"To the High and Mighty Lord Gian Maria Sforza"--and +with a chuckle of mingled relish and scorn, he was gone, locking the +door. + +Left alone, Gonzaga lay face downward where he had been flung, able to +do little more than groan and sweat in the extremity of his despair, +whilst he awaited the coming of those who would probably make an end of +him. Not even from Valentina could he hope for mercy, so incriminating +was the note he had penned. His letter was to enjoin the Duke to hold +his men in readiness at the hour of the Angelus next morning, and to +wait until Gonzaga should wave a handkerchief from the battlements. At +that he was to advance immediately to the postern, which he would find +open, and the rest, Gonzaga promised him, would be easy. He would take +the whole garrison at their prayers and weaponless. + +When Francesco read it a light leapt to his eye and an oath to his +lips; but neither glance nor oath were of execration, as Ercole stood +expecting. A sudden idea flashed through the Count's mind, so strange +and humorous and yet so full of promise of easy accomplishment, that he +burst into a laugh. + +"Now may God bless this fool for the most opportune of traitors!" he +exclaimed, in surprise at which Fortemani's mouth fell open, and the +eyes of Peppe grew very round. + +"Ercole, my friend, here is a bait to trap that lout my cousin, such as +I could never have devised myself." + +"You mean----?" + +"Take it back to him," cried the Count, holding out the letter with a +hand that trembled in the eagerness of his spirit. "Take it back, and +get him by fair means or foul to shoot it as he intended; or if he +refuses, why, then, do you seal it up and shoot it yourself. But see +that it gets to Gian Maria!" + +"May I not know what you intend?" quoth the bewildered Ercole. + +"All in good time, my friend. First do my bidding with that letter. +Listen! It were best that having read it you agree to join him in his +betrayal of Roccaleone, your own fears as to the ultimate fate awaiting +you at Gian Maria's hands being aroused. Urge him to promise you money, +immunity, what you will, as your reward; but make him believe you +sincere, and induce him to shoot his precious bolt. Now go! Lose no +time, or they may be returning from chapel, and your opportunity will +be lost. Come to me here, afterwards, and I will tell you what is in my +mind. We shall have a busy night of it to-night, Ercole, and you must +set me free when the others are abed. Now go!" + +Ercole went, and Peppe, remaining, plagued the Count with questions +which he answered until in the end the fool caught the drift of his +scheme, and swore impudently that a greater jester than his Excellency +did not live. Then Ercole returned. + +"Is it done? Has the letter gone?" cried Francesco. Fortemani nodded. + +"We are sworn brothers in this business, he and I. He added a line to +his note to say that he had gained my cooperation, and that, therefore, +immunity was expected for me too." + +"You have done well, Ercole." Francesco applauded him. "Now return me +the letter I gave you for Monna Valentina. There is no longer the need +for it. But return to me to-night toward the fourth hour, when all are +abed, and bring with you my men, Lanciotto and Zaccaria." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. THE INTERRUPTED MASS + + +The morning of that Wednesday of Corpus Christi, fateful to all +concerned in this chronicle, dawned misty and grey, and the air was +chilled by the wind that blew from the sea. The chapel bell tinkled out +its summons, and the garrison trooped faithfully to Mass. + +Presently came Monna Valentina, followed by her ladies, her pages, and +lastly, Peppe, wearing under his thin mask of piety an air of eager +anxiety and unrest. Valentina was very pale, and round her eyes there +were dark circles that told of sleeplessness, and as she bowed her +head in prayer, her ladies observed that tears were falling on the +illuminated Mass-book over which she bent. And now came Fra Domenico +from the sacristy in the white chasuble that the Church ordains for the +Corpus Christi feast, followed by a page in a clerkly gown of black, and +the Mass commenced. + +There were absent only from the gathering Gonzaga and Fortemani, besides +a sentry and the three prisoners. Francesco and his two followers. + +Gonzaga had presented himself to Valentina with the plausible tale that, +as the events of which Fanfulla's letter had given them knowledge might +lead Gian Maria at any moment to desperate measures, it might be well +that he should reinforce the single man-at-arms patrolling the walls. +Valentina, little recking now whether the castle held or fell, and still +less such trifles as Gonzaga's attendance at Mass, had assented without +heeding the import of what he said. + +And so, his face drawn and his body quivering with the excitement of +what he was about to do, Gonzaga had repaired to the ramparts so soon +as he had seen them all safely into chapel. The sentinel was that same +clerkly youth Aventano, who had read to the soldiers that letter Gian +Maria had sent Gonzaga. This the courtier accepted as a good omen. If a +man there was among the soldiery at Roccaleone with whom he deemed that +he had an account to settle, that man was Aventano. + +The mist was rapidly lightening, and the country grew visible for miles +around. In the camp of Gian Maria he observed a coming and going of men +that argued an inordinate bustle for so early an hour. They awaited his +signal. + +He approached the young sentinel, growing more and more nervous as the +time for action advanced. He cursed Fortemani, who had selfishly refused +to take an active part in the admission of Gian Maria. Here was a task +that Fortemani could perform more satisfactorily than he. He had urged +this fact on Ercole's attention, but the swashbuckler had grinned and +shook his head. To Gonzaga fell the greater reward, and so Gonzaga must +do the greater work. It was only fair, the knave had urged; and +while Gonzaga was about it, he would watch the chapel door against +interruption. And so Gonzaga had been forced to come alone to try +conclusions with the sentry. + +He gave the young man a nervous but pleasant "Good-morrow," and observed +with satisfaction that he wore no body armour. His original intention +had been to attempt to suborn him, and render him pliable by bribery; +but now that the moment for action was arrived he dared not make the +offer. He lacked for words in which to present his proposal, and he was +afraid lest the man should resent it, and in a fit of indignation +attack him with his partisan. He little imagined that Aventano had been +forewarned by Ercole that a bribe would be offered him and that he +was to accept it promptly. Ercole had chosen this man because he was +intelligent, and had made him understand enough of what was toward, +besides offering a substantial reward if he played his part well, and +Aventano waited. But Gonzaga, knowing naught of this, abandoned at the +last moment the notion of bribing him--which Ercole had enjoined him, +and which he in his turn had promised Ercole was the course he would +pursue. + +"You seem cold, Excellency," said the young man deferentially, for he +had observed that Gonzaga shivered. + +"A chill morning, Aventano," returned the gallant, with a grin. + +"True; but the sun is breaking through yonder. It will be warmer soon." + +"Why, yes," answered the other abstractedly, and still he remained by +the sentinel, his hand, under the gay mantle of blue velvet, nervously +fingering the hilt of a dagger that he dared not draw. It came to him +that moments were passing, and that the thing must be done. Yet Aventano +was a sinewy youth, and if the sudden stab he meditated failed him, he +would be at the fellow's mercy. At the thought he shivered again, and +his face turned grey. He moved away a step, and then inspiration brought +him a cruel ruse. He uttered a cry. + +"What is that?" he exclaimed, his eyes on the ground. + +In an instant Aventano was beside him, for his voice had sounded +alarmed--a tone, in his present condition, not difficult to simulate. + +"What, Excellency?" + +"Down there," cried Gonzaga excitedly. "There from that fissure in the +stone. Saw you nothing?" And he pointed to the ground at a spot where +two slabs met. + +"I saw nothing, Illustrious." + +"It was like a flash of yellow light below there. What is under us here? +I'll swear there's treachery at work. Get down on your knees, and try if +anything is to be seen." + +With a wondering glance at the courtier's white, twitching face, the +unfortunate young man went down on all fours to do his bidding. After +all--poor fellow!--he was hardly intelligent as Fortemani opined. + +"There is nothing, Excellency," he said. "The plaster is cracked. +But---- Ah!" + +In a panic of haste Gonzaga had whipped the dagger from its sheath and +sunk it into the middle of Aventano's broad back. The fellow's arms slid +out, and with a long-drawn, gurgling sigh he sank down and stretched +himself horribly on the stones. + +In that instant the clouds parted overhead and the sun came out in a +blaze of golden glory. High above Gonzaga's head a lark burst into song. + +For a moment the assassin remained standing above the body of his victim +with head sunk between the shoulders like a man who expects a blow, his +face grey, his teeth chattering, and his mouth twitching hideously. A +shudder shook him. It was the first life he had taken, and that carrion +at his feet filled him with sickly horror. Not for a kingdom--not +to save his vile soul from the eternal damnation that act had earned +it--would he have dared stoop to pluck the dagger from the back of the +wretch he had murdered. With something like a scream he turned, and fled +in a panic from the spot. Panting with horror, yet subconsciously aware +of the work he had to do, he paused a moment to wave a kerchief, then +dashed down the steps to the postern. + +With trembling fingers he unlocked the door and set it wide to Gian +Maria's men, who, in answer to his signal, were now hurrying forward +with a bridge composed of pine trees, that they had hastily and roughly +put together during the previous day. This, with some efforts and more +noise than Gonzaga relished, was thrust across the moat. One of the men +crept across, and assisted Gonzaga to make fast his end. + +A moment later Gian Maria and Guidobaldo stood in the castle-yard, and +after them came almost every man of the five score that Gian Maria had +brought to that siege. This was what Francesco had confidently expected, +knowing that it was not his cousin's way to run any risks. + +The Duke of Babbiauo, whose face was disfigured by a bristling hedge of +reddish stubble--for in obedience to the vow he had made, he now carried +a fortnight's growth of beard on his round face--turned to Gonzaga. + +"Is all well?" he asked, in a friendly tone, whilst Guidobaldo +contemptuously eyed the popinjay. + +Gonzaga assured them that the whole thing had been effected without +disturbing the garrison at their prayers. Now that he deemed himself +well protected his usual serenity of manner returned. + +"You may felicitate yourself, Highness," he ventured to say, with a +grin, to Guidobaldo, "that you have reared your niece in devout ways." + +"Did you address me?" quoth the Duke of Urbino coldly. "I trust it may +not again be necessary." + +Before the look of loathing in his handsome face Gonzaga cringed. Gian +Maria laughed in his piping treble. + +"Have I not served your Highness faithfully?" fawned the gallant. + +"So has the meanest scullion in my kitchens, the lowliest groom in my +stables--and with more honour to himself," answered the proud Duke. "Yet +he does not go the length of jesting with me." His eye carried a menace +so eloquent that Gonzaga drew back, afraid; but Gian Maria clapped him +on the shoulder in a friendly manner. + +"Be of good heart, Judas," he laughed, his pale face a-grin, "I shall +find room for you in Babbiano, and work too, if you do it as well as +this. Come; the men are here now. Let us go forward whilst they are at +their prayers. But we must not disturb them," he added, more seriously. +"I will not be guilty of an impiety. We can lie in wait for them +without." + +He laughed gaily, for he seemed in a preposterously good humour, and +bidding Gonzaga lead the way he followed, with Guidobaldo at his side. +They crossed the courtyard, where his men were ranged, armed to the +teeth, and at the door of the archway leading to the inner court they +paused for Gonzaga to open it. + +A moment the gallant stood staring. Then he turned a face of +consternation on the Dukes. His knees shook visibly. + +"It is locked," he announced, in a husky voice. + +"We made too much noise in entering," suggested Guidobaldo, "and they +have taken the alarm." + +The explanation relieved the growing uneasiness in Gian Maria's mind. He +turned with an oath to his men. + +"Here, some of you," his sharp voice commanded. "Beat me down this door. +By the Host! Do the fools think to keep me out so easily?" + +The door was broken down, and they advanced. But only some half-dozen +paces, for at the end of that short gallery they found the second +door barring their progress. Through this, too, they broke, Gian Maria +fiercely blaspheming at the delay. Yet when it was done he was none so +eager to lead the way. + +In the second courtyard he deemed it extremely probable that they should +find Valentina's soldiers awaiting them. So bidding his men pass on, he +remained behind with Guidobaldo until he heard word that the inner court +was likewise empty. + +And now the entire hundred of his followers were assembled there +to overpower the twenty that served Monna Valentina; and +Guidobaldo--despite Gian Maria's scruples--strode coolly forward to the +chapel door. + + * * * * * + +Within the chapel Mass had started. Fra Domenico at the foot of the +altar had pattered through the Confiteor, his deep voice responded to +by the soprano of the ministering page. The Kyrie was being uttered when +the attention of the congregation was attracted by the sound of steps +approaching the chapel door to the accompaniment of an ominous clank of +steel. The men rose in a body, fearing treachery, and cursing--despite +the sanctity of the place--the circumstance that they were without +weapons. + +Then the door opened, and down the steps rang the armed heels of the +new-comers, so that every eye was turned upon them, including that +of Fra Domenico, who had pronounced the last "Christe eleison" in a +quavering voice. + +A gasp of relief, followed by an angry cry from Valentina, went up when +they recognised those that came. First stepped the Count of Aquila in +full armour, sword at side and dagger on hip, carrying his head-piece on +the crook of his left arm. Behind him towered the bulk of Fortemani, his +great face flushed with a strange excitement, a leather hacketon over +his steel cuirass, girt, too, with sword and dagger, and carrying his +shining morion in his hand. Last came Lanciotto and Zaccaria, both fully +equipped and armed at all points. + +"Who are you that come thus accoutred into God's House to interrupt the +holy Mass?" cried the bass voice of the friar. + +"Patience, good father," answered Francesco calmly, "The occasion is our +justification." + +"What does this mean, Fortemani?" demanded Valentina imperiously, her +eyes angrily set upon her captain, utterly ignoring the Count. "Do you +betray me too?" + +"It means, Madonna," answered the giant bluntly, "that your lap-dog, +Messer Gonzaga, is at this very moment admitting Gian Maria and his +forces to Roccaleone, by the postern." + +There was a hoarse cry from the men, which Francesco silenced by a wave +of his mailed hand. + +Valentina looked wildly at Fortemani, and then, as if drawn by a greater +will than her own, her eyes were forced to travel to the Count. He +instantly advanced, and bowed his head before her. + +"Madonna, this is no hour for explanations. Action is needed, and that +at once. I was wrong in not disclosing my identity to you before you +discovered it by such unfortunate means and with the assistance of the +only traitor Roccaleone has harboured, Romeo Gonzaga--who, as Fortemani +has just told you, is at this moment admitting my cousin and your uncle +to the castle. But that my object was ever other than to serve you, or +that I sought, as was represented to you, to turn this siege to my own +political profit, that, Madonna, I implore you in your own interests to +believe untrue." + +She sank on to her knees and with folded hands began to pray to the +Mother of Mercy, deeming herself lost, for his tone carried conviction, +and he had said that Gian Maria was entering the castle. + +"Madonna," he cried, touching her lightly on the shoulder; "let your +prayers wait until they can be of thanksgiving. Listen. By the vigilance +of Peppe there, who, good soul that he is, never lost faith in me or +deemed me a dastard, we were informed last night--Fortemani and I--of +this that Gonzaga was preparing. And we have made our plans and prepared +the ground. When Gian Maria's soldiers enter, they will find the outer +doors barred and locked, and we shall gain a little time while they +break through them. My men, as you will observe, are even now barring +the door of the chapel to impose a further obstacle. Now while they are +thus engaged we must act. Briefly, then, if you will trust us we will +bear you out of this, for we four have worked through the night to some +purpose." + +She looked at him through a film of tears, her face drawn and +startled. Then she put her hands to her brow in a gesture of bewildered +helplessness. + +"But they will follow us," she complained. + +"Not so," he answered, smiling. "For that, too, have we provided. Come, +Madonna, time presses." + +A long moment she looked at him. Then brushing aside the tears that +dimmed her sight, she set a hand on either of his shoulders, and stood +so, before them all, gazing up into his calm face. + +"How shall I know that what you say is true--that I may trust you?" +she asked, but her voice was not the voice of one that demands an +overwhelming proof ere she will believe. + +"By my honour and my knighthood," he answered, in a ringing voice, "I +make oath here, at the foot of God's altar, that my purpose--my only +purpose--has been, is, and shall be to serve you, Monna Valentina." + +"I believe you," she cried; to sob a moment later: + +"Forgive me, Francesco, and may God, too, forgive my lack of faith in +you." + +He softly breathed her name in such sweet accents that a happy peace +pervaded her, and the bright courage of yore shone in her brown eyes. + +"Come, sirs!" he cried now, with a sudden briskness that startled them +into feverish obedience. "You, Fra Domenico, cut off your sacerdotals, +and gird high your habit. There is climbing for you. Here, a couple of +you, move aside that altar-step. My men and I have spent the night in +loosening its old hinges." + +They raised the slab, and in the gap beneath it was disclosed a flight +of steps leading down to the dungeons and cellars of Roccaleone. + +Down this they went in haste but in good order, marshalled by Francesco, +and when the last had passed down, he and Lanciotto, aided by others +below, who had seized a rope that he had lowered them, replaced the slab +from underneath, so that no trace should remain of the way by which they +had come. + +A postern had been unbarred below by Fortemani, who had led the way with +a half-dozen of the men; and a huge scaling ladder that lay in readiness +in that subterranean gallery was rushed out across the moat, which at +this point was a roaring torrent. + +Fortemani was the first to descend that sloping bridge, and upon +reaching the ground he made fast the lower end. + +Next went a dozen men at Francesco's bidding, armed with the pikes +that had been left overnight in the gallery. At a word of command they +slipped quietly away. Then came the women, and lastly, the remainder of +the men. + +Of the enemy they caught no glimpse; not so much as a sentry, for every +one of Gian Maria's men had been pressed into the investment of the +castle. Thus they emerged from Roccaleone, and made their way down that +rough bridge into the pleasant meadows to the south. Already Fortemani +and his dozen men had disappeared at the trot, making for the front of +the castle, when Francesco stepped last upon the bridge, and closed the +postern after him. Then he glided rapidly to the ground, and with the +assistance of a dozen ready hands he dragged away the scaling ladder. +They carried it some yards from the brink of the torrent, and deposited +it in the meadow. With a laugh of purest relish Francesco stepped to +Valentina's side. + +"It will exercise their minds to discover how we got out," he cried, +"and they will be forced to the conclusion that we are angels all, with +wings beneath our armour. We have not left them a single ladder or a +strand of rope in Roccaleone by which to attempt to follow us, even if +they discover how we came. But come, Valentina mia, the comedy is not +finished yet. Already Fortemani will have removed the bridge by which +they entered and engaged such few men as may have been left behind, and +we have the High and Mighty Gian Maria in the tightest trap that was +ever fashioned." + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. THE CAPITULATION OF ROCCALEONE + + +In the sunshine of that bright May morning Francesco and his men went +merrily to work to possess themselves of the ducal camp, and the first +business of the day was to arm those soldiers who had come out unarmed. +Of weapons there was no lack, and to these they helped themselves +in liberal fashion, whilst here and there a man would pause to don a +haubergeon or press a steel cap on his head. + +Three sentries only had been left to guard the tents, and of these +Fortemani and a couple of his men had made prisoners whilst the others +were removing the bridge by which the invaders had entered. And now +beneath the open postern by the drawbridge gaped a surging torrent that +no man would have the hardihood to attempt to swim. + +In that opening, presently, appeared Gian Maria, his face red for +once, and behind him a clamouring crowd of men-at-arms who shared their +master's rage at the manner in which they had been trapped. + +At the rear of the tents Valentina and her ladies awaited the issue of +the parley that now seemed toward. The bulk of the men were busy at Gian +Maria's cannons, and under Francesco's supervision they were training +them upon the drawbridge. + +From the castle a mighty shout went up. The men disappeared from the +postern to reappear a moment later on the ramparts, and Francesco +laughed deep down in his throat as he perceived the purpose of this. +They had bethought them of the guns that were mounted there, and were +gone to use them against Valentina's little army. Gun after gun they +tried, and a fierce cry of rage burst forth when they realised by what +dummies they had been held in check during the past week. This was +followed by a silence of some moments, terminated at last by the sound +of a bugle. + +Answering that summons to a parley, and with a last word of injunction +to Fortemani, who was left in charge of the men at the guns, Francesco +rode forward on one of Gian Maria's horses, escorted by Lanciotto and +Zaccaria similarly mounted, and each armed with a loaded arquebuse. + +Under the walls of Roccaleone he drew rein, laughing to himself at this +monstrous change of sides. As he halted--helmet on head, but beaver +open--a body came hurtling over the battlements and splashed into the +foaming waters below. It was the corpse of Aventano, which Gian Maria +had peremptorily bidden them to remove from his sight. + +"I desire to speak with Monna Valentina della Rovere," cried the furious +Duke. + +"You may speak with me, Gian Maria," answered Francesco's voice, +clear and metallic. "I am her representative, her sometime Provost of +Roccaleone." + +"Who are you?" quoth the Duke, struck by a familiar note in that mocking +voice. + +"Francesco del Falco, Count of Aquila." + +"By God! You!" + +"An age of marvels, is it not?" laughed Francesco. + +"Which will you lose, my cousin--a wife or a duchy?" + +Rage struck Gian Maria speechless for a moment. Then he turned to +Guidobaldo and whispered something; but Guidobaldo, who seemed vastly +interested now in this knight below, merely shrugged his shoulders. + +"I will lose neither, Messer Francesco," roared the Duke. "Neither, by +God!" he screamed. "Neither, do you hear me?" + +"I should be deaf else," was the easy answer, "But you are gravely at +fault. One or the other you must relinquish, and it is yours to make a +choice between them. The game has gone against you, Gian Maria, and you +must pay." + +"But have I no voice in the bartering of my niece?" asked Guidobaldo, +with cold dignity. "Is it for you, Lord Count, to say whether your +cousin shall wed her or not?" + +"Why, no. He may wed her if he will, but he will be a duke no longer. In +fact, he will be an outcast with no title to lay claim to, if indeed the +Babbianians will leave him a head at all; whilst I, at least, though +not a duke with a tottering throne, am a count with lands, small +but securely held, and shall become a duke if Gian Maria refuses to +relinquish me your niece. So that if he be disposed to marry her, +will you be disposed to let her marry a homeless vagrant or a headless +corpse?" + +Guidobaldo's face seemed to change, and his eyes looked curiously at the +white-faced Duke beside him. + +"So you are the other pretender to my niece's hand, Lord Count?" he +asked, in his coldest voice. + +"I am, Highness," answered Francesco quietly. "The matter stands thus: +Unless Gian Maria is in Babbiano by morning, he forfeits his crown, and +it passes to me by the voice of the people; but if he will relinquish +his claim to Monna Valentina in my favour, then I shall journey straight +to Aquila, and I shall trouble Babbiano no more. If he refuses, and +insists upon this wedding, abhorrent to Monna Valentina, why, then, my +men shall hold him captive behind those walls until it be too late for +him to reach his duchy in time to save the crown. In the meantime I will +ride to Babbiano in his stead, and--reluctant though I be to play the +duke--I shall accept the throne and silence the people's importunities. +He can then endeavour to win your Highness's consent to the union." + +For perhaps the first time in his life Guidobaldo was guilty of an act +of positive discourtesy. He broke into a laugh--a boisterous, amused +laugh that cut into Gian Maria's heart like a knife. + +"Why, Lord Count," he said, "I confess that you have us very much in +your hands to mould us as you will. Now, you are such a soldier and such +a strategist as it would pleasure me to have about my person in Urbino. +What says your Highness?" he continued, turning now to the almost +speechless Gian Maria. "I have yet another niece with whom we might +cement the union of the two duchies; and she might prove more willing. +Women, it seems, will insist upon being women. Do you not think that +Monna Valentina and this your valiant cousin----" + +"Heed him not!" screamed Gian Maria, now in a white heat of passion. +"He is a smooth-tongued dog that would argue the very devil out of hell. +Make no terms with the hind! I have a hundred men, and----" He swung +suddenly round. "Let down that drawbridge, cowards!" he bawled at them, +"and sweep me those animals from my tents." + +"Gian Maria, I give you warning," cried Francesco, loudly and firmly. "I +have trained your own guns on to that bridge, and at the first attempt +to lower it I'll blow it into splinters. You come not out of Roccaleone +save at my pleasure and upon my terms, and if you lose your duchy by +your obstinacy, it will be your own work; but answer me now, that I may +take my course." + +Guidobaldo, too, restrained Gian Maria, and countermanded his order for +the lowering of the bridge. And now on his other side Gonzaga crept up +to him, and whispered into his ear the suggestion that he should wait +until night had fallen. + +"Wait until night, fool!" blazed the Duke, turning on him, in a fierce +joy at finding one whom he might rend. "If I wait until then, my throne +is lost to me. This comes of sorting with traitors. It is your fault, +you Judas!" he cried more fiercely still, his face distorted; "but you +at least shall pay for what you have done." + +Gonzaga saw a sudden flash of steel before his eyes, and a piercing +scream broke from him as Gian Maria's dagger buried itself in his +breast. Too late Guidobaldo put forward a hand to stay the Duke. + +And so, by a strangely avenging justice, the magnificent Gonzaga +sank dead on the very spot on which he had so cravenly and dastardly +poniarded Aventano. + +"Throw me that carrion into the moat," growled Gian Maria, still +quivering with rage that had prompted his ferocious act. + +He was obeyed, and thus murdered and murderer were united in a common +grave. + +After the first attempt to restrain Gian Maria, Guidobaldo had looked +on in unconcern, deeming the act a very fitting punishment of a man with +whose treachery he, at least, had never been in sympathy. + +As he saw the body vanish in the torrent below, Gian Maria seemed to +realise what he had done. His anger fell from him, and with bent head he +piously crossed himself. Then turning to an attendant who stood at his +elbow: + +"See that a Mass is said for his soul to-morrow," he solemnly bade him. + +As if the act had served to pacify him and restore him to his senses, +Gian Maria now stepped forward and asked his cousin, in calmer tones +than he had hitherto employed, to make clear the terms on which he would +permit him to return to Babbiano within the time to which his people +limited him. + +"They are no more than that you relinquish your claim to Monna +Valentina, and that you find consolation--as I think his Highness of +Urbino has himself suggested--in the Lord Guidobaldo's younger niece." + +Before he could reply Guidobaldo was urging him, in a low voice to +accept the terms. + +"What else is there for you?" Montefeltro ended pregnantly. + +"And this other niece of yours----?" quoth Gian Maria lamely. + +"I have already passed my word," answered Guidobaldo. + +"And Monna Valentina?" the other almost whined. + +"May wed this headstrong condottiero of hers. I'll not withstand them. +Come; I am your friend in this. I am even sacrificing Valentina to your +interests. For if you persist, he will ruin you. The game is his, my +lord. Acknowledge your defeat, as I acknowledge mine, and pay." + +"But what is your defeat to mine?" cried Gian Maria, who saw through +Guidobaldo's appreciation of the fact that such a nephew-in-law as +Francesco del Falco was far from undesirable in the troublous times that +threatened. + +"It is at least as absolute," returned Guidobaldo, with a shrug. And in +this vein the Duke of Urbino continued for some moments, till, in the +end, Gian Maria found himself not only deserted by his ally, but having +this ally now combating on his cousin's side and pressing him to accept +his cousin's terms, distasteful though they were. Thus urged, Gian Maria +lamely acknowledged his defeat and his willingness to pay the forfeit. +With that he asked how soon he might be permitted to leave the castle. + +"Why, at once, now that I have your word," answered Francesco readily, +whereat treachery gleamed from Gian Maria's eye, to be swiftly quenched +by Francesco's next words. "But lest your men and mine should come to +trouble with one another, you will order yours to come forth without +arms or armour, and you will depose your own. His Highness Guidobaldo is +the only man in whose favour I can make an exception to this condition. +Let it be broken, and I promise you that you will very bitterly regret +it. At sight of the first armed man issuing from those gates, I'll give +the word to fire on you, and your own guns shall work your destruction." + +Thus was the second siege of Roccaleone ended almost as soon as it was +begun, and thus did Gian Maria capitulate to the conqueror. The Duke of +Babbiano and his men marched out sheepishly and silently, and took their +way to Babbiano, no word--not even so much as a glance--passing between +Gian Maria and the lady who had been the cause of his discomfiture, and +who blithely looked on at his departure. + +Guidobaldo and his few attendants lingered after his late ally had gone. +Then he bade Francesco lead him to his niece, in which Francesco readily +obeyed him. + +The Duke embraced her coldly--still that he embraced her at all after +what was passed augured well. + +"You will come with me to Urbino, Lord Count?" he said suddenly to +Francesco. "It were best to celebrate the nuptials there. Everything is +in readiness--for all had been prepared for Gian Maria." + +A great joy came into Valentina's eyes; her cheeks flushed and her +glance fell; but Francesco scanned the Duke's face with the keen eye of +one who is incredulous of so much good fortune. + +"Your Highness means me well?" he made bold to ask. Guidobaldo +stiffened, and a frown broke the serenity of his lofty brow. + +"You have my princely word," he answered solemnly, at which, with bended +knee, Francesco stooped to kiss his ducal hand. + +And so they departed on the horses that they kept as the spoils of war. +They made a goodly show, Guidobaldo riding at their head, with Francesco +and Valentina, whilst the rear was brought up by Peppe and Fra Domenico, +who, touched by this epidemic of goodwill, were at last fraternising +with each other. + +And as they rode it chanced that presently Guidobaldo fell behind, +so that for a moment Francesco and Valentina found themselves alone a +little ahead of the others. She turned to him, a shyness in her brown +eyes, a tremble at the corners of her red lips: + +"You have not yet said that you forgive me, Francesco," she complained, +in a timerous whisper. "Were it not seemly that you did since we are to +be wed so soon?" + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Love-at-Arms, by Raphael Sabatini + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOVE-AT-ARMS *** + +***** This file should be named 3530.txt or 3530.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/3/3530/ + +Produced by John Stuart Middleton + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.07.00*END* + + + + + +This etext was produced by John Stuart Middleton +<j.middleton@worldnet.att.net> + + + + + +Love-at-Arms +Being a narrative excerpted from the chronicles of Urbino during the +dominion of the High and Mighty Messer Guidobaldo da Montefeltro + +by Raphael Sabatini + + + + +"Le donne, i cavalier', l'arme, gli amori, + Le cortesie, l'audace imprese io canto." + + ARIOSTO + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER + + I. VOX POPULI + + II. ON A MOUNTAIN PATH + + III. SACKCLOTH AND MOTLEY + + IV. MONNA VALENTINA + + V. GIAN MARIA + + VI. THE AMOROUS DUKE + + VII. GONZAGA THE INSIDIOUS + + VIII. AMONG THE DREGS OF WINE + + IX. THE "TRATTA DI CORDE" + + X. THE BRAYING OF AN ASS + + XI. WANDERING KNIGHTS + + XII. THE FOOL'S INQUISITIVENESS + + XIII. GIAN MARIA MAKES A VOW + + XIV. FORTEMANI DRINKS WATER + + XV. THE MERCY OF FRANCESCO + + XVI. GONZAGA UNMASKS + + XVII. THE ENEMY + +XVIII. TREACHERY + + XIX. PLOT AND COUNTERPLOT + + XX. THE LOVERS + + XXI. THE PENITENT + + XXII. A REVELATION + +XXIII. IN THE ARMOURY TOWER + + XXIV. THE INTERRUPTED MASS + + XXV. THE CAPITULATION OF ROCCALEONE + + + + +CHAPTER I + +VOX POPULI + + +From the valley, borne aloft on the wings of the evening breeze, rose +faintly the tolling of an Angelus bell, and in a goat-herd's hut on the +heights above stood six men with heads uncovered and bowed, obeying its +summons to evening prayer. A brass lamp, equipped with three beaks, +swung from the grimy ceiling, and, with more smoke than flame, shed an +indifferent light, and yet a more indifferent smell, throughout the +darkening hovel. But it sufficed at least to reveal in the accoutrements +and trappings of that company a richness that was the more striking by +contrast with the surrounding squalor. + +As the last stroke of the Ave Maria faded on the wind that murmured +plaintively through the larches of the hillside, they piously crossed +themselves, and leisurely resuming their head-gear, they looked at one +another with questioning glances. Yet before any could voice the inquiry +that was in the minds of all, a knock fell upon the rotten timbers of the +door. + +"At last!" exclaimed old Fabrizio da Lodi, in a voice charged with +relief, whilst a younger man of good shape and gay garments strode to the +door in obedience to Fabrizio's glance, and set it wide. + +Across the threshold stepped a tall figure under a wide, featherless hat, +and wrapped in a cloak which he loosened as he entered, revealing the +very plainest of raiment beneath. A leather hacketon was tightened at +the waist by a girdle of hammered steel, from which depended on his left +a long sword with ringed, steel quillons, whilst from behind his right +hip peeped the hilt of a stout Pistoja dagger. His hose of red cloth +vanished into boots of untanned leather, laced in front and turned down +at the knees, and completed in him the general appearance of a mercenary +in time of peace, in spite of which the six nobles, in that place of +paradoxes, bared their heads anew, and stood in attitudes of deferential +attention. + +He paused a moment to throw off his cloak, of which the young man who had +admitted him hastened to relieve him as readily as if he had been born a +servitor. He next removed his hat, and allowed it to remain slung from +his shoulders, displaying, together with a still youthful countenance of +surpassing strength and nobility, a mane of jet-black hair coiffed in a +broad net of gold thread--the only article of apparel that might have +suggested his station to be higher than at first had seemed. + +He stepped briskly to the coarse and grease-stained table, about which +the company was standing, and his black eyes ran swiftly over the faces +that confronted him. + +"Sirs," he said at last, "I am here. My horse went lame a half-league +beyond Sant' Angelo, and I was constrained to end the journey on foot." + +"Your Excellency will be tired," cried Fabrizio, with that ready +solicitude which is ever at the orders of the great. "A cup of Puglia +wine, my lord. Here, Fanfulla," he called, to the young nobleman who had +acted as usher. But the new-comer silenced him and put the matter aside +with a gesture. + +"Let that wait. Time imports as you little dream. It may well be, +illustrious sirs, that had I not come thus I had not come at all." + +"How?" cried one, expressing the wonder that rose in every mind, even as +on every countenance some consternation showed. "Are we betrayed?" + +"If you are in case to fear betrayal, it may well be, my friends. As I +crossed the bridge over the Metauro and took the path that leads hither, +my eyes were caught by a crimson light shining from a tangle of bushes by +the roadside. That crimson flame was a reflection of the setting sun +flashed from the steel cap of a hidden watcher. The path took me nearer, +and with my hat so set that it might best conceal my face, I was all +eyes. And as I passed the spot where that spy was ambushed, I discerned +among the leaves that might so well have screened him, but that the sun +had found his helmet out, the evil face of Masuccio Torri." There was a +stir among the listeners, and their consternation increased, whilst one +or two changed colour. "For whom did he wait? That was the question +that I asked myself, and I found the answer that it was for me. If I was +right, he must also know the distance I had come, so that he would not +look to see me afoot, nor yet, perhaps, in garments such as these. And +so, thanks to all this and to the hat and cloak in which I closely masked +myself, he let me pass unchallenged." + +"By the Virgin!" exclaimed Fabrizio hotly, "I'll swear your conclusions +were wrong. In all Italy it was known to no man beyond us six that you +were to meet us here, and with my hand upon the Gospels I could swear +that not one of us has breathed of it." + +He looked round at his companions as if inviting them to bear out his +words, and they were not slow to confirm what he had sworn, in terms as +vehement as his own, until in the end the new-comer waved them into +silence. + +"Nor have I breathed it," he assured them, "for I respected your +injunction, Messer Fabrizio. Still--what did Masuccio there, hidden like +a thief, by the roadside? Sirs," he continued, in a slightly altered +tone, "I know not to what end you have bidden me hither, but if aught of +treason lurks in your designs, I cry you beware! The Duke has knowledge +of it, or at least, suspicion. If that spy was not set to watch for me, +why, then, he was set to watch for all, that he may anon inform his +master what men were present at this meeting." + +Fabrizio shrugged his shoulders in a contemptuous indifference which was +voiced by his neighbour Ferrabraccio. + +"Let him be informed," sneered the latter, a grim smile upon his rugged +face. "The knowledge will come to him too late." + +The new-comer threw back his head, and a look that was half wonder, half +enlightenment gleamed in the black depths of his imperious eyes. He took +a deep breath. + +"It would seem, sirs, that I was right," said he, with a touch of +sternness, "and that treason is indeed your business." + +"My Lord of Aquila," Fabrizio answered him, "we are traitors to a man +that we may remain faithful and loyal to a State." + +"What State?" barked the Lord of Aquila contemptuously. + +"The Duchy of Babbiano," came the answer. + +"You would be false to the Duke that you may be faithful to the Duchy?" +he questioned, scorn running ever stronger in his voice. "Sirs, it is a +riddle I'll not pretend to solve." + +There fell a pause in which they eyed one another, and their glances were +almost as the glances of baffled men. They had not looked for such a +tone from him, and they questioned with their eyes and minds the wisdom +of going further. At last, with a half-sigh, Fabrizio da Lodi turned +once more to Aquila. + +"Lord Count," he began, in a calm, impressive voice, "I am an old man; +the name I bear and the family from which I spring are honourable alike. +You cannot think so vilely of me as to opine that in my old age I should +do aught to smirch the fair fame of the one or of the other. To be named +a traitor, sir, is to be given a harsh title, and one, I think, that +could fit no man less than it fits me or any of these my companions. +Will you do me the honour, then, to hear me out, Excellency; and when you +have heard me, judge us. Nay, more than judgment we ask of you, Lord +Count. We ask for guidance that we may save our country from the ruin +that threatens it, and we promise you that we will take no step that has +not your sanction--that is not urged by you." + +Francesco del Falco, Count of Aquila, eyed the old noble with a glance +that had changed whilst he spoke, so that from scornful that it had been, +it had now grown full of mild wonder and inquiry. He slightly inclined +his head in token of acquiescence. + +"I beg that you will speak," was all he said, and Fabrizio would +forthwith have spoken but that Ferrabraccio intervened to demand that +Aquila should pass them his knightly word not to betray them in the event +of his rejection of the proposals they had to make. When he had given +them his promise, and they had seated themselves upon such rude stools as +the place afforded, Fabrizio resumed his office of spokesman, and +unfolded the business upon which he had invited the Count among them. + +In a brief preamble he touched upon the character of Gian Maria Sforza, +the reigning Duke of Babbiano--seated upon its throne by his powerful +uncle, Lodovico Sforza, Lord of Milan. He exposed the man's reckless +extravagances, his continued self-indulgence, his carelessness in matters +of statecraft, and his apparent disinclination to fulfil the duties which +his high station imposed upon him. On all this Fabrizio touched with +most commendable discretion and restraint, as was demanded by the +circumstance that in Francesco del Falco he was addressing the Duke's own +cousin. + +"So far, Excellency," he continued, "you cannot be in ignorance of the +general dissatisfaction prevailing among our most illustrious cousin's +subjects. There was the conspiracy of Bacolino, a year ago, which, had +it succeeded, would have cast us into the hands of Florence. It failed, +but another such might not fail again. The increased disfavour of his +Highness may bring more adherents to a fresh conspiracy of this +character, and we should be lost as an independent state. And the peril +that menaces us is the peril of being so lost. Not only by defection of +our own, but by the force of arms of another. That other is Caesar +Borgia. His dominion is spreading like a plague upon the face of this +Italy, which he has threatened to eat up like an artichoke--leaf by leaf. +Already his greedy eyes are turned upon us, and what power have we--all +unready as we are--wherewith successfully to oppose the overwhelming +might of the Duke of Valentinois? All this his Highness realises, for we +have made it more than clear to him, as we have, too, made clear the +remedy. Yet does he seem as indifferent to his danger as to his +salvation. His time is spent in orgies, in dancing, in hawking and in +shameful dalliance, and if we dare throw out a word of warning, threats +and curses are the only answer we receive." + +Da Lodi paused, as if growing conscious that his manner was becoming +over-vehement. But of this, his companions, at least, were all +unconscious, for they filled the pause with a murmur of angry +confirmation. Francesco wrinkled his brow, and sighed. + +"I am--alas!--most fully conscious of this danger you speak of. But-- +what do you expect of me? Why bear me your grievance? I am no +statesman." + +"Here is no statesman needed, lord. It is a soldier Babbiano requires; a +martial spirit to organise an army against the invasion that must come-- +that is coming already. In short, Lord Count, we need such a warrior as +are you. What man is there in all Italy--or, indeed, what woman or what +child--that has not heard of the prowess of the Lord of Aquila? Your +knightly deeds in the wars 'twixt Pisa and Florence, your feats of arms +and generalship in the service of the Venetians, are matters for the +making of epic song." + +"Messer Fabrizio!" murmured Paolo, seeking to restrain his eulogistic +interlocutor, what time a faint tinge crept into his bronzed cheeks. But +Da Lodi continued, all unheeding: + +"And shall you, my lord, who have borne yourself so valiantly as a +condottiero in the service of the stranger, hesitate to employ your skill +and valour against the enemies of your own homeland? Not so, Excellency. +We know the patriotic soul of Francesco del Falco, and we count upon it." + +"And you do well," he answered firmly. "When the time comes you shall +find me ready. But until then, and touching such preparation as must be +made--why do you not address his Highness as you do me?" + +A sad smile crossed the noble face of Lodi, whilst Ferrabraccio laughed +outright in chill contempt, and with characteristic roughness made +answer: + +"Shall we speak to him," he cried, "of knightly deeds, of prowess, and of +valour? I would as lief enjoin Roderigo Borgia to fulfil the sacred +duties of his Vicarship; I might as profitably sprinkle incense on a +dunghill. What we could say to Gian Maria we have said, and since it had +been idle to have appealed to him as we have appealed to you, we have +shown him yet another way by which Babbiano might be saved and +Valentino's onslaught averted." + +"Ah! And this other way?" inquired the Count, his glance wandering back +to Fabrizio. + +"An alliance with the house of Urbino," answered Lodi. "Guidobaldo has +two nieces. We have sounded him, and we have found him well disposed +towards such a marriage as we suggested. Allied thus to the house of +Montefeltro, we should receive not only assistance from Guidobaldo, but +also from the lords of Bologna, Perugia, Camerino, and some smaller +states whose fortunes are linked already to that of Urbino. Thus we +should present to Cesar Borgia a coalition so strong that he would never +dare to bring a lance into our territory." + +"I heard some talk of it," said Paolo. "It would have been a wise step +indeed. Pity that the negotiations came to naught!" + +"But why did they come to naught? Body of Satan!--why?" roared the +impetuous Ferrabraccio, as with his mighty fist he smote the table a blow +that well-nigh shattered it. "Because Gian Maria was not in a marrying +mood! The girl we proposed to him was beautiful as an angel; but he +would not so much as look. There was a woman in Babbiano who----" + +"My lord," cut in Fabrizio hastily, fearing the lengths to which the +other might go, "it is as Ferrabraccio says. His Highness would not +marry. And this it is has led us to invite you to meet us here to-night. +His Highness will do nothing to save the Duchy, and so we turn to you. +The people are with us; in every street of Babbiano are you spoken of +openly as the duke they would have govern them and defend their homes. +In the sacred name of the people, then," the old man concluded, rising, +and speaking in a voice shaken by emotion, "and with the people's voice, +of which we are but the mouthpiece, we now offer you the crown of +Babbiano. Return with us to-night, my lord, and to-morrow, with but +twenty spears for escort, we shall ride into Babbiano and proclaim you +Duke. Nor need you fear the slightest opposition. One man only of +Babbiano--that same Masuccio whom you tell us that you saw to-night-- +remains faithful to Gian Maria; faithful because he and the fifty Swiss +mercenaries at his heels are paid to be so. Up, my lord! Let your own +good sense tell you whether an honest man need scruple to depose a prince +whose throne knows no defence beyond the hired protection of fifty +foreign spears." + +A silence followed that impassioned speech. Lodi remained standing, the +others sat, their eager glances turned upon the Count, their ears +anxiously alert for his reply. Thus they remained for a brief spell, +Aquila himself so still that he scarcely seemed to breathe. + +He sat, gripping the arms of his chair, his head fallen forward until his +chin rested on his breast, a frown darkening his lofty brow. And whilst +they waited for his answer, a mighty battle was fought out within his +soul. The power so suddenly, so unexpectedly, thrust within his reach, +and offered him if he would but open his hands to grasp it, dazzled him +for one little moment. As in a flash he saw himself Lord of Babbiano. +He beheld a proud career of knightly deeds that should cause his name and +that of Babbiano to ring throughout the length and breadth of Italy. +From the obscure state that it was, his patriotism and his skill as a +condottiero should render it one of the great Italian powers--the rival +of Florence, of Venice or Milan. He had a vision of widened territories, +and of neighbouring lords becoming vassals to his might. He saw himself +wresting Romagna mile by mile from the sway of the ribald Borgia, hunting +him to the death as he was wont to hunt the boar in the marshes of +Commachio, or driving him into the very Vatican to seek shelter within +his father's gates--the last strip of soil that he would leave him to +lord it over. He dreamt of a Babbiano courted by the great republics, +and the honour of its alliance craved by them that they might withstand +the onslaughts of French and Spaniard. All this he saw in that fleeting +vision of his, and Temptation caught his martial spirit in a grip of +steel. And then another picture rose before his eyes. What would he do +in times of peace? His was a soul that pined in palaces. He was born to +the camp, and not to the vapid air of courts. In exchange for this power +that was offered him what must he give? His glorious liberty. Become +their lord in many things, to be their slave in more. Nominally to rule, +but actually to be ruled, until, should he fail to do his rulers' will, +there would be some night another meeting such as this, in which men +would plot to encompass his downfall and to supplant him as he was +invited to supplant Gian Maria. Lastly, he bethought him of the man +whose power he was bidden to usurp. His own cousin, his father's +sister's son, in whose veins ran the same blood as in his own. + +He raised his head at last, and met those anxious faces on which the +fitful light was casting harsh shadows. The pale ghost of a smile +hovered for a second on the corners of his stern mouth. + +"I thank you, sirs, for the honour you have done me," he made answer +slowly, "an honour of which I fear I am all unworthy." + +In strenuous chorus their voices rose to contradict him. + +"At least, then, an honour which I cannot accept." + +There was a moment's silence, and their faces from eager that they had +been, grew downcast to the point of sullenness. + +"But why, my lord?" cried old Fabrizio at last, his arms outstretched +towards the Count, his voice quivering with intensity. "Santissima +Vergine! Why?" + +"Because--to give you but one reason out of many--the man you ask me to +overthrow and supplant is of my own blood." And but that his tone was +calm they might have held that he rebuked them. + +"I had thought," hazarded seriously the gay Fanfulla, "that with such a +man as your Excellency, patriotism and the love of Babbiano would have +weighed even more than the ties of blood." + +"And you had thought well, Fanfulla. Did I not say that the reason I +gave you was but one of many? Tell me, sirs, what cause have you to +believe that I should rule you wisely and well? It so chances that in +the crisis now threatening Babbiano a captain is needed for its ruler. +But let not this delude you, for there may come a season in the fortunes +of the State when such a man might be as unfitted for dominion as is the +present Duke in this. What then? A good knight-errant is an indifferent +courtier and a bad statesman. Lastly, my friends--since you must know +all that is in my heart--there remains the fact that I love myself a +little. I love my liberty too well, and I have no mind to stifle in the +scented atmosphere of courts. You see I am frank with you. It is my +pleasure to roam the world, my harness on my back, free as the blessed +wind of heaven. Shall a ducal crown and a cloak of purple----" He broke +off sharply with a laugh. "There, my friends! You have had reasons and +to spare. Again I thank you, and deplore that being such as I am, I may +not become such as you would have me." + +He sank back in his chair, eyeing them with a glance never so wistful, +and after a second's silence, Da Lodi's voice implored him, in accents +that trembled with pathetic emphasis, to reconsider his resolve. The old +man would have proceeded to fresh argument, but Aquila cut him short. + +"I have already so well considered it, Messer Fabrizio," he answered +resolutely, "that nothing now could sway me. But this, sirs, I will +promise you: I will ride with you to Babbiano, and I will seek to reason +with my cousin. More will I do; I will seek at his hands the office of +Gonfalonier, and if he grant it me; I will so reorganise our forces, and +enter into such alliances with our neighbours as shall ensure, at least +in some degree, the safety of our State." + +Still they endeavoured to cajole him, but he held firm against their +efforts, until in the end, with a sorrowful mien, Da Lodi thanked him for +his promise to use his influence with Gian Maria. + +"For this, at least, we thank your Excellency, and on our part we shall +exert such power as we still wield in Babbiano to the end that the high +office of Gonfalonier be conferred upon you. We had preferred to see you +fill with honour a position higher still, and should you later come to +consider----" + +"Dismiss your hopes of that," put in the Count, with a solemn shake of +his head. And then, before another word was uttered, young Fanfulla +degli Arcipreti leapt of a sudden to his feet, his brows knit, and an +expression of alarm spreading upon his comely face. A second he remained +thus; then, going swiftly to the door, he opened it, and stood listening, +followed by the surprised glances of the assembled company. But it +needed not the warning cry with which he turned, to afford them the +explanation of his odd behaviour. In the moment's tense silence that had +followed his sudden opening of the door they had caught from without the +distant fall of marching feet. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +ON A MOUNTAIN PATH + + +"Armed men, my lords!" had been Fanfulla's cry. "We are betrayed!" + +They looked at one another with stern eyes, and with that grimness that +takes the place which fear would hold in meaner souls. + +Then Aquila rose slowly to his feet, and with him rose the others, +looking to their weapons. He softly breathed a name--"Masuccio Torri." + +"Aye," cried Lodi bitterly, "would that we had heeded your warning! +Masuccio it will be, and at his heels his fifty mercenaries." + +"Not less, I'll swear, by the sound of them," said Ferrabraccio. "And we +but six, without our harness." + +"Seven," the Count laconically amended, resuming his hat and loosening +his sword in its scabbard. + +"Not so, my lord," exclaimed Lodi, laying a hand upon the Count's arm. +"You must not stay with us. You are our only hope--the only hope of +Babbiano. If we are indeed betrayed--though by what infernal means I +know not--and they have knowledge that six traitors met here to-night to +conspire against the throne of Gian Maria, at least, I'll swear, it is +not known that you were to have met us. His Highness may conjecture, but +he cannot know for sure, and if you but escape, all may yet he well-- +saving with us, who matter not. Go, my lord! Remember your promise to +seek at your cousin's hand the gonfalon, and may God and His blessed +Saints prosper your Excellency." + +The old man caught the young man's hand, and bending his head until his +face was hidden in his long white hair, he imprinted a kiss of fealty +upon it. But Aquila was not so easily to be dismissed. + +"Where are your horses?" he demanded. + +"Tethered at the back. But who would dare ride them at night adown this +precipice?" + +"I dare for one," answered the young man steadily, "and so shall you all +dare. A broken neck is the worst that can befall us, and I would as lief +break mine on the rocks of Sant' Angelo as have it broken by the +executioner of Babbiano." + +"Bravely said, by the Virgin!" roared Ferrabraccio. "To horse, sirs!" + +"But the only way is the way by which they come," Fanfulla remonstrated. +"The rest is sheer cliff." + +"Why, then, my sweet seducer, we'll go to meet them," rejoined +Ferrabraccio gaily. "They are on foot, and we'll sweep over them like a +mountain torrent. Come, sirs, hasten! They draw nigh." + +"We have but six horses, and we are seven," another objected. + +"I have no horse," said Francesco, "I'll follow you afoot." + +"What?" cried Ferrabraccio, who seemed now to have assumed command of the +enterprise. "Let our St. Michael bring up the rear! No, no. You, Da +Lodi, you are too old for this work." + +"Too old?" blazed the old man, drawing himself up to the full height of +what was still a very imposing figure, and his eyes seeming to take fire +at this reflection upon his knightly worth. "Were the season other, +Ferrabraccio, I could crave leave to show you how much of youth there is +still left in me. But----" He paused. His angry eyes had alighted upon +the Count, who stood waiting by the door, and the whole expression of his +countenance changed. "You are right, Ferrabraccio, I grow old indeed--a +dotard. Take you my horse, and begone." + +"But you?" quoth the Count solicitously. + +"I shall remain. If you do your duty well by those hirelings they will +not trouble me. It will not occur to them that one was left behind. +They will think only of following you after you have cut through them. +Go, go, sirs, or all is lost." + +They obeyed him now with a rush that seemed almost to partake of panic. +In a frenzied haste Fanfulla and another tore the tetherings loose, and a +moment later they were all mounted and ready for that fearful ride. The +night was dark, yet not too dark. The sky was cloudless and thickly +starred, whilst a minguant moon helped to illumine the way by which they +were to go. But on that broken and uncertain mountain path the shadows +lay thickly enough to make their venture desperate. + +Ferrabraccio claiming a better knowledge than his comrades of the way, +placed himself at their head, with the Count beside him. Behind them, +two by two, came the four others. They stood on a small ledge in the +shadow of the great cliff that loomed on their left. Thence the +mountain-side might be scanned--as well as in such a light it was to be +discerned. The tramp of feet had now grown louder and nearer, and with +it came the clank of armour. In front of them lay the path which sloped, +for a hundred yards or more, to the first corner. Below them, on the +right, the path again appeared at the point where it jutted out for some +half-dozen yards in its zigzag course, and there Fanfulla caught the +gleam of steel, reflecting the feeble moonlight. He drew Ferrabraccio's +attention to it, and that stout warrior at once gave the word to start. +But Francesco interposed. + +"If we do so," he objected, "we shall come upon them past the corner, and +at that corner we shall be forced to slacken speed to avoid being carried +over the edge of the cliff. Besides, in such a strait our horses may +fail us, and refuse the ground. In any event, we shall not descend upon +them with the same force as we shall carry if we wait until they come +into a straight line with us. The shadows here will screen us from them +meanwhile." + +"You are right, Lord Count. We will wait," was the ready answer. And +what time they waited he grumbled lustily. + +"To be caught in such a trap as this! Body of Satan! It was a madness +to have met in a hut with but one approach." + +"We might perhaps have retreated down the cliff behind," said Francesco. + +"We might indeed--had we been sparrows or mountain cats. But being men, +the way we go is the only way--and a mighty bad way it is. I should like +to be buried at Sant' Angelo, Lord Count," he continued whimsically. "It +will be conveniently near; for once I go over the mountain-side, I'll +swear naught will stop me until I reach the valley--a parcel of broken +bones." + +"Steady, my friends," murmured the voice of Aquila. "They come." + +And round that fateful corner they were now swinging into view--a company +in steel heads and bodies with partisan on shoulder. A moment they +halted now, so that the waiting party almost deemed itself observed. But +it soon became clear that the halt was to the end that the stragglers +might come up. Masuccio was a man who took no chances; every knave of +his fifty would he have before he ventured the assault. + +"Now," murmured the Count, tightening his hat upon his brow, so that it +might the better mask his features. Then rising in his stirrups, and +raising his sword on high, he let his voice be heard again. But no +longer in a whisper. Like a trumpet-call it rang, echoed and re-echoed +up the mountain-side. + +"Forward! St. Michael and the Virgin!" + +That mighty shout, followed as it was by a thunder of hooves, gave pause +to the advancing mercenaries. Masuccio's voice was heard, calling to +them to stand firm; bidding them kneel and ward the charge with their +pikes; assuring them with curses that they had but to deal with half- +dozen men. But the mountain echoes were delusive, and that thunder of +descending hooves seemed to them not of a half-dozen but of a regiment. +Despite Masuccio's imprecations the foremost turned, and in that moment +the riders were upon them, through them and over them, like the mighty +torrent of which Ferrabraccio had spoken. + +A dozen Swiss went down beneath that onslaught, and another dozen that +had been swept aside and over the precipice were half-way to the valley +before that cavalcade met any check. Masuccio's remaining men strove +lustily to stem this human cataract, now that they realised how small was +the number of their assailants. They got their partisans to work, and +for a few moments the battle raged hot upon that narrow way. The air was +charged with the grind and ring of steel, the stamping of men and horses +and the shrieks and curses of the maimed. + +The Lord of Aquila, ever foremost, fought desperately on. Not only with +his sword fought he, but with his horse as well. Rearing the beast on +its hind legs, he would swing it round and let it descend where least it +was expected, laying about him with his sword at the same time. In vain +they sought to bring down his charger with their pikes; so swift and +furious was his action, that before their design could be accomplished, +he was upon those that meditated it, scattering them out of reach to save +their skins. + +In this ferocious manner he cleared a way before him, and luck served him +so well that what blows were wildly aimed at him as he dashed by went +wide of striking him. At last he was all but through the press, and but +three men now fronted him. Again his charger reared, snorting, and +pawing the air like a cat, and two of the three knaves before him fled +incontinently aside. But the third, who was of braver stuff, dropped on +one knee and presented his pike at the horse's belly. Francesco made a +wild attempt to save the roan that had served him so gallantly, but he +was too late. It came down to impale itself upon that waiting partisan. +With a hideous scream the horse sank upon its slayer, crushing him +beneath its mighty weight, and hurling its rider forward on to the +ground. In an instant he was up and had turned, for all that he was +half-stunned by his fall and weakened by the loss of blood from a pike- +thrust in the shoulder--of which he had hitherto remained unconscious in +the heat of battle. Two mercenaries were bearing down upon him--the same +two that had been the last to fall back before him. He braced himself to +meet them, thinking that his last hour was indeed come, when Fanfulla +degli Arcipreti, who had followed him closely through the press, now +descended upon his assailants from behind, and rode them down. Beside +the Count he reined up, and stretched down his hand. + +"Mount behind me, Excellency," he urged him. + +"There is not time," answered Francesco, who discerned a half-dozen +figures hurrying towards them. "I will cling to your stirrup-leather, +thus. Now spur!" And without waiting for Fanfulla to obey him, he caught +the horse a blow with the flat of his sword across the hams, which sent +it bounding forward. Thus they continued now that perilous descent, +Fanfulla riding, and the Count half-running, half-swinging from his +stirrup. At last, when they had covered a half-mile in this fashion, and +the going had grown easier, they halted that the Count might mount behind +his companion, and as they now rode along at an easier pace Francesco +realised that he and Fanfulla were the only two that had come through +that ugly place. The gallant Ferrabraccio, hero of a hundred strenuous +battles, had gone to the ignoble doom which half in jest he had +prophesied himself. His horse had played him false at the outset of the +charge, and taking fright it had veered aside despite his efforts to +control it, until, losing its foothold, man and beast had gone hurtling +over the cliff. Amerini, Fanfulla had seen slain, whilst the remaining +two, being both unhorsed, would doubtless be the prisoners of Masuccio. + +Some three miles beyond Sant' Angelo, Fanfulla's weary horse splashed +across a ford of the Metauro, and thus, towards the second hour of night, +they gained the territory of Urbino, where for the time they might hold +themselves safe from all pursuit. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +SACKCLOTH AND MOTLEY + + +The fool and the friar had fallen a-quarrelling, and--to the shame of the +friar and the glory of the fool be it spoken--their subject of contention +was a woman. Now the friar, finding himself no match for the fool in +words, and being as broad and stout of girth and limb as the other was +puny and misshapen, he had plucked off his sandal that with it he might +drive the full force of his arguments through the jester's skull. At +that the fool, being a very coward, had fled incontinently through the +trees. + +Running, like the fool he was, with his head turned to learn whether the +good father followed him, he never saw the figure that lay half-hidden in +the bracken, and might never have guessed its presence but that tripping +over it he shot forward, with a tinkle of bells, on to his crooked nose. + +He sat up with a groan, which was answered by an oath from the man into +whose sides he had dug his flying feet. The two looked at one another in +surprise, tempered with anger in the one and dismay in the other. + +"A good awakening to you, noble sir," quoth the fool politely; for by the +mien and inches of the man he had roused, he thought that courtesy might +serve him best. + +The other eyed him with interest, as well he might; for an odder figure +it would be hard to find in Italy. + +Hunched of back, under-sized, and fragile of limb, he was arrayed in +doublet, hose and hood, the half of which was black the other crimson, +whilst on his shoulders fell from that same hood--which tightly framed +his ugly little face--a foliated cape, from every point of which there +hung a tiny silver bell that glimmered in the sunlight, and tinkled as he +moved. From under bulging brows a pair of bright eyes, set wide as an +owl's, took up the mischievous humour of his prodigious mouth. + +"A curse on you and him that sent you," was the answering greeting he +received. Then the man checked his anger and broke into a laugh at sight +of the fear that sprang into the jester's eyes. + +"I crave your pardon--most humbly do I crave it, Illustrious," said the +fool, still in fear. "I was pursued." + +"Pursued?" echoed the other, in a tone not free from a sudden uneasiness. +"And, pray, by whom?" + +"By the very fiend, disguised in the gross flesh and semblance of a +Dominican brother." + +"Do you jest?" came the angry question. + +"Jest? Had you caught his villainous sandal between your shoulders, as +did I, you would know how little I have a mind to jest." + +"Now answer me a plain question, if you have the wit to answer with," +quoth the other, anger ever rising in his voice. "Is there hereabouts a +monk?" + +"Aye, is there--may a foul plague rot him!--lurking in the bushes yonder. +He is over-fat to run, or you had seen him at my heels, arrayed in that +panoply of avenging wrath that is the cognisance of the Church Militant." + +"Go bring him hither," was the short answer. + +"Gesů!" gasped the fool, in very real affright. "I'll not go near him +till his anger cools--not if you made me straight and bribed me with the +Patrimony of St. Peter." + +The man turned from him impatiently, and rising his voice: + +"Fanfulla!" he called over his shoulder, and then, after a moment's +pause, again: "Olá, Fanfulla!" + +"I am here, my lord," came an answering voice from behind a clump of +bushes on their right, and almost immediately the very splendid youth who +had gone to sleep in its shadow stood up and came round to them. At +sight of the fool he paused to take stock of him, what time the fool +returned the compliment with wonder-stricken interest. For however much +Fanfulla's raiment might have suffered in yesternight's affray, it was +very gorgeous still, and in the velvet cap upon his head a string of +jewels was entwined. Yet not so much by the richness of his trappings +was the fool impressed, as by the fact that one so manifestly noble +should address by such a title, and in a tone of so much deference, this +indifferently apparelled fellow over whom he had stumbled. Then his gaze +wandered back to the man who lay supported on his elbow, and he noticed +now the gold net in which his hair was coiffed, and which was by no means +common to mean folk. His little twinkling eyes turned their attention +full upon the face before him, and of a sudden a gleam of recognition +entered them. His countenance underwent a change, and from grotesque +that it had been, it became more grotesque still in its hasty assumption +of reverence. + +"My Lord of Aquila!" he murmured, scrambling to his feet. + +Scarcely had he got erect when a hand gripped him by the shoulder, and +Fanfulla's dagger flashed before his startled eyes. + +"Swear on the cross of this, never to divulge his Excellency's presence +here, or take you the point of it in your foolish heart." + +"I swear, I swear!" he cried, in fearful haste, his hand upon the hilt, +which Fanfulla now held towards him. + +"Now fetch the priest, good fool," said the Count, with a smile at the +hunchback's sudden terror. "You have nothing to fear from us." + +When the jester had left them to go upon his errand, Francesco turned to +his companion. + +"Fanfulla, you are over-cautious," he said, with an easy smile. "What +shall it matter that I am recognised?" + +"I would not have it happen for a kingdom while you are so near Sant' +Angelo. The six of us who met last night are doomed--those of us who are +not dead already. For me, and for Lodi if he was not taken, there may be +safety in flight. Into the territory of Babbiano I shall never again set +foot whilst Gian Maria is Duke, unless I be weary of this world. But of +the seventh--yourself--you heard old Lodi swear that the secret could not +have transpired. Yet should his Highness come to hear of your presence +in these parts and in my company, suspicion might set him on the road +that leads to knowledge." + +"Ah! And then?" + +"Then?" returned the other, eyeing Francesco in surprise. "Why, then, +the hopes we found on you--the hopes of every man in Babbiano worthy of +the name--would be frustrated. But here comes our friend the fool, and, +in his wake, the friar." + +Fra Domenico--so was he very fitly named, this follower of St. Dominic-- +approached with a solemnity that proceeded rather from his great girth +than from any inflated sense of the dignity of his calling. He bowed +before Fanfulla until his great crimson face was hidden, and he displayed +instead a yellow, shaven crown. It was as if the sun had set, and the +moon had risen in its place. + +"Are you skilled in medicine?" quoth Fanfulla shortly. + +"I have some knowledge, Illustrious." + +"Then see to this gentleman's wounds." + +"Eh? Dio mio! You are wounded, then?" he began, turning to the Count, +and he would have added other questions as pregnant, but that Aquila, +drawing aside his hacketon at the shoulder, answered him quickly: + +"Here, sir priest." + +His lips pursed in solicitude, the friar would have gone upon his knees, +but that Francesco, seeing with what labour the movement must be fraught, +rose up at once. + +"It is not so bad that I cannot stand," said he, submitting himself to +the monk's examination. + +The latter expressed the opinion that it was nowise dangerous, however +much it might be irksome, whereupon the Count invited him to bind it up. +To this Fra Domenico replied that he had neither unguents nor linen, but +Fanfulla suggested that he might get these things from the convent of +Acquasparta, hard by, and proffered to accompany him thither. + +This being determined, they departed, leaving the Count in the company of +the jester. Francesco spread his cloak, and lay down again, whilst the +fool, craving his permission to remain, disposed himself upon his +haunches like a Turk. + +"Who is your master, fool?" quoth the Count, in an idle spirit. + +"There is a man who clothes and feeds me, noble sir, but Folly is my only +master." + +"To what end does he do this?" + +"Because I pretend to be a greater fool than he, so that by contrast with +me he seems unto himself wise, which flatters his conceit. Again, +perhaps, because I am so much uglier than he that, again by contrast, he +may account himself a prodigy of beauty." + +"Odd, is it not?" the Count humoured him. + +"Not half so odd as that the Lord of Aquila should lie here, roughly +clad, a wound in his shoulder, talking to a fool." + +Francesco eyed him with a smile. + +"Give thanks to God that Fanfulla is not here to hear you, or they had +been your last words for pretty though he be, Messer Fanfulla is a very +monster of bloodthirstiness. With me it is different. I am a man of +very gentle ways, as you may have heard, Messer Buffoon. But see that +you forget at once my station and my name, or you may realise how little +they need buffoons in the Court of Heaven." + +"My lord, forgive. I shall obey you," answered the hunchback, with a +stricken manner. And then through the glade came a voice--a woman's +voice, wondrous sweet and rich--calling: "Peppino! Peppino!" + +"It is my mistress calling me," quoth the fool, leaping to his feet. + +"So that you own a mistress, though Folly be your only master," laughed +the Count. "It would pleasure me to behold the lady whose property you +have the honour to be, Ser Peppino." + +"You may behold her if you but turn your head," Peppino whispered. + +Idly, with a smile upon his lips that was almost scornful, the Lord of +Aquila turned his eyes in the direction in which the fool was already +walking. And on the instant his whole expression changed. The amused +scorn was swept from his countenance, and in its place there sat now a +look of wonder that was almost awe. + +Standing there, on the edge of the clearing, in which he lay, he beheld a +woman. He had a vague impression of a slender, shapely height, a +fleeting vision of a robe of white damask, a camorra of green velvet, and +a choicely wrought girdle of gold. But it was the glory of her peerless +face that caught and held his glance in such ecstatic awe; the miracle of +her eyes, which, riveted on his, returned his glance with one of mild +surprise. A child she almost seemed, despite her height and womanly +proportions, so fresh and youthful was her countenance. + +Raised on his elbow, he lay there for a spell, and gazed and gazed, his +mind running on visions which godly men have had of saints from Paradise. + +At last the spell was broken by Peppino's voice, addressing her, his back +servilely bent. Francesco bethought him of the deference due to one so +clearly noble, and leaping to his feet, his wound forgotten, he bowed +profoundly. A second later he gasped for breath, reeled, and swooning, +collapsed supine among the bracken. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +MONNA VALENTINA + + +In after years the Lord of Aquila was wont to aver in all solemnity that +it was the sight of her wondrous beauty set up such a disorder in his +soul that it overcame his senses, and laid him swooning at her feet. +That he, himself, believed it so, it is not ours to doubt, for all that +we may be more prone to agree with the opinion afterwards expressed by +Fanfulla and the friar--and deeply resented by the Count--that in leaping +to his feet in over-violent haste his wound re-opened, and the pain of +this, combining with the weak condition that resulted from his loss of +blood, had caused his sudden faintness. + +"Who is this, Peppe?" she asked the fool, and he, mindful of the oath he +had sworn, answered her brazenly that he did not know, adding that it +was--as she might see---some poor wounded fellow. + +"Wounded?" she echoed, and her glorious eyes grew very pitiful. "And +alone?" + +"There was a gentleman here, tending him, Madonna; but he is gone with +Fra Domenico to the Convent of Acquasparta to seek the necessaries to +mend his shoulder." + +"Poor gentleman," she murmured, approaching the fallen figure. "How came +he by his hurt?" + +"That, Madonna, is more than I can tell." + +"Can we do nothing for him until his friends return?" was her next +question, bending over the Count as she spoke. "Come, Peppino," she +cried, "lend me your aid. Get me water from the brook, yonder." + +The fool looked about him for a vessel, and his eye falling upon the +Count's capacious hat, he snatched it up, and went his errand. When he +returned, the lady was kneeling with the unconscious man's head in her +lap. Into the hatful of water that Peppe brought her she dipped a +kerchief, and with this she bathed the brow on which his long black hair +lay matted and disordered. + +"See how he has bled, Peppe," said she. "His doublet is drenched, and he +is bleeding still! Vergine Santa!" she cried, beholding now the ugly +wound that gaped in his shoulder, and turning pale at the sight. +"Assuredly he will die of it--and he so young, Peppino, and so comely to +behold!" + +Francesco stirred, and a sigh fluttered through his pallid lips. Then he +raised his heavy lids, and their glances met and held each other. And +so, eyes that were brown and tender looked down into feverish languid +eyes of black, what time her gentle hand held the moist cloth to his +aching brow. + +"Angel of beauty!" he murmured dreamily, being but half-awake as yet to +his position. Then, becoming conscious of her ministrations, "Angel of +goodness!" he added, with yet deeper fervour. + +She had no answer for him, saving such answer--and in itself it was +eloquent enough--as her blushes made, for she was fresh from a convent +and all innocent of worldly ways and tricks of gallant speech. + +"Do you suffer?" she asked at last. + +"Suffer?" quoth he, now waking more and more, and his voice sounding a +note of scorn. "Suffer? My head so pillowed and a saint from Heaven +ministering to my ills? Nay, I am in no pain, Madonna, but in a joy more +sweet than I have ever known." + +"Gesů! What a nimble tongue!" gibed the fool from the background. + +"Are you there, too, Master Buffoon?" quoth Francesco. "And Fanfulla? +Is he not here? Why, now I bethink me; he went to Acquasparta with the +friar." He thrust his elbow under him for more support. + +"You must not move," said she, thinking that he would essay to rise. + +"I would not, lady, if I must," he answered solemnly. And then, with his +eyes upon her face, he boldly asked her name. + +"My name," she answered readily, "is Valentina della Rovere, and I am +niece to Guidobaldo of Urbino." + +His brows shot up. + +"Do I indeed live," he questioned, "or do I but dream the memories of +some old romancer's tale, in which a wandering knight is tended thus by a +princess?" + +"Are you a knight?" she asked, a wonder coming now into her eyes, for +even into the seclusion of her convent-life had crept strange stories of +these mighty men-at-arms. + +"Your knight at least, sweet lady," answered he, "and ever your poor +champion if you will do me so much honour." + +A crimson flush stole now into her cheeks, summoned by his bold words and +bolder glances, and her eyes fell. Yet, resentment had no part in her +confusion. She found no presumption in his speech, nor aught that a +brave knight might not say to the lady who had succoured him in his +distress. Peppe, who stood listening and marking the Count's manner, +knowing the knight's station, was filled now with wonder, now with +mockery; yet never interfered. + +"What is your name, sir knight?" she asked, after a pause. + +His eyes looked troubled, and as they shot beyond her to the fool, they +caught on Peppe's face a grin of sly amusement. + +"My name," he said at last, "is Francesco." And then, to prevent that +she should further question him--"But tell me, Madonna," he inquired, +"how comes a lady of your station here, alone with that poor fraction of +a man?" And he indicated the grinning Peppe. + +"My people are yonder in the woods, where we have halted for a little +space. I am on my way to my uncle's court, from the Convent of Santa +Sofia, and for my escort I have Messer Romeo Gonzaga and twenty spears. +So that, you see, I am well protected, without counting Ser Peppe here +and the saintly Fra Domenico, my confessor." + +There was a pause, ended at length by Francesco. + +"You will be the younger niece of his Highness of Urbino?" said he. + +"Not so, Messer Francesco," she answered readily. "I am the elder." + +At that his brows grew of a sudden dark. + +"Can you be she whom they would wed to Gian Maria?" he exclaimed, at +which the fool pricked up his ears, whilst she looked at the Count with a +gaze that plainly showed how far she was from understanding him. + +"You said?" she asked. + +"Why, nothing," he answered, with a sigh, and in that moment a man's +voice came ringing through the wood. + +"Madonna! Madonna Valentina!" + +Francesco and the lady turned their eyes in the direction whence the +voice proceeded, and they beheld a superbly dazzling figure entering the +glade. In beauty of person and richness of apparel he was well worthy of +the company of Valentina. His doublet was of grey velvet, set off with +scales of beaten gold, and revealing a gold-embroidered vest beneath; his +bonnet matched his doublet, and was decked by a feather that sparkled +with costly gems; his gold-hilted sword was sheathed in a scabbard also +of grey velvet set with jewels. His face was comely as a damsel's, his +eyes blue and his hair golden. + +"Behold," announced Peppino gravely, "Italy's latest translation of the +Golden Ass of Apuleius." + +Upon seeing the noble niece of Guidobaldo kneeling there with Francesco's +head still pillowed in her lap, the new-comer cast up his arms in a +gesture of dismay. + +"Saints in Heaven!" he exclaimed, hurrying towards them. "What +occupation have you found? Who is this ugly fellow?" + +"Ugly?" was all she answered him, in accents of profound surprise. + +"Who is he?" the young man insisted, his tone growing heated. "And what +does he here and thus, with you? Gesů! What would his Highness say? +How would he deal with me were he to learn of this? Who is the man, +Madonna?" + +"Why, as you see, Messer Gonzaga," she answered, with some heat, "a +wounded knight." + +"A knight he?" gibed Gonzaga. "A thief more likely, a prowling +masnadiero. What is your name?" he roughly asked the Count. + +Drawing himself a little away from Valentina, and reclining entirely upon +his elbow, Francesco motioned him with a wave of the hand to come no +nearer. + +"I beg, lady, that you will bid your pretty page stand back a little. I +am still faint, and his perfumes overpower me." + +Under the mask of the polite request Gonzaga detected the mocking, +contemptuous note, and it gave fuel to his anger. + +"I am no page, fool," he answered, then clapping his hands together, he +raised his voice to shout--"Olá, Beltrame! To me!" + +"What would you do?" cried the lady, rising to confront him. + +"Carry this ruffian in bonds to Urbino, as is my duty." + +"Sir, you may wound your pretty hands in grasping me," replied the Count, +in chill indifference. + +"Ah! You would threaten me with violence, vassal?" cried the other, +retreating some paces farther as he spoke. "Beltrame!" he called again. +"Are you never coming?" A voice answered him from the thicket, and with a +clank of steel a half-dozen men flung themselves into the glade. + +"Your orders, sir?" craved he that led them, his eyes wandering to the +still prostrate Count. + +"Tie me up this dog," Gonzaga bade him. But before the fellow could move +a foot to carry out the order Valentina barred his way. + +"You shall not," she commanded, and so transformed was she from the +ingenuous child that lately had talked with him, that Francesco gaped in +pure astonishment. "In my uncle's name, I bid you leave this gentleman +where he lies. He is a wounded knight whom I have been pleased to tend-- +a matter which seems to have aroused Messer Gonzaga's anger against him." + +Beltrame paused, and looked from Valentina to Gonzaga, undecided. + +"Madonna," said Gonzaga, with assumed humility, "your word is law with +us. But I would have you consider that, what I bid Beltrame do is in the +interest of his Highness, whose territory is infested by these +vagabonding robbers. It is a fact that may not have reached you in your +convent retreat, no more than has sufficient knowledge reached you yet-- +in your incomparable innocence--to distinguish between rogues and honest +men. Beltrame, do my bidding." + +Valentina's foot tapped the ground impatiently, and into her eyes there +came a look of anger that heightened her likeness to her martial uncle. +But Peppe it was who spoke. + +"For all that there seem to be fools enough, already, meddling in this +business," he said, in tones of mock lament, "permit that I join their +number, Ser Romeo, and listen to my counsel." + +"Out, fool," cried Gonzaga, cutting at him with his riding-switch, "we +need not your capers." + +"No, but you need my wisdom," retorted Ser Peppe, as he leapt beyond +Gonzaga's reach. "Hear me, Beltrame! For all that we do not doubt +Messer Gonzaga's keen discrimination in judging 'twixt a rogue and an +honest man, I do promise you, as surely as though I were Fate herself, +that if you obey him now and tie up that gentleman, you will yourself be +tied up for it, later on, in a yet uglier fashion." + +Beltrame looked alarmed, Gonzaga incredulous. Valentina thanked Peppe +with her eyes, thinking that he had but hit upon a subterfuge to serve +her wishes, whilst Francesco, who had now risen to his feet, looked on +with an amused smile as though the matter concerned him nowise +personally. And then, in the very crux of the situation, Fanfulla and +Fra Domenico appeared upon the scene. + +"You are, well-returned, Fanfulla!" the Count called to him, "This pretty +gentleman would have had me bound." + +"Have you bound?" echoed Fanfulla, in angry horror. "Upon what grounds, +pray?" he demanded, turning fiercely upon Gonzaga. + +Impressed by Fanfulla's lordly air, Romeo Gonzaga grew amazingly humble +for one that but a moment back had been so overbearing. + +"It would seem, sir, that my judgment was at fault in esteeming his +condition," he excused himself. + +"Your judgment?" returned the hot Fanfulla. "And who bade you judge? Go +cut your milk-teeth, boy, and meddle not with men if you would live to be +a man yourself some day." + +Valentina smiled, Peppe laughed outright, whilst even Beltrame and his +followers grinned, all of which added not a little to Gonzaga's choler. +But scant though his wisdom might be, it was yet enough to dictate +prudence. + +"The presence of Madonna here restrains me," he answered, with elaborate +dignity. "But should we meet again, I shall make bold to show you what +manhood means." + +"Perhaps--if by then you shall have come to it." And with a shrug +Fanfulla turned to give his attention to the Count, whom Fra Domenico was +already tending. + +Valentina, to relieve the awkwardness of the moment, proposed to Gonzaga +that he should get his escort to horse, and have her litter in readiness, +so that they might resume their journey as soon as Fra Domenico should +have concluded his ministrations. + +Gonzaga bowed, and with a vicious glance at the strangers and an angry +"Follow me!" to Beltrame and the others, he departed with the men-at-arms +at his heels. + +Valentina remained with Fanfulla and Peppe, whilst Fra Domenico dressed +Francesco's wound, and, presently, when the task was accomplished, they +departed, leaving Fanfulla amid the Count alone. But ere she went she +listened to Francesco's thanks, and suffered him to touch her ivory +fingers with his lips. + +There was much he might have said but that the presence of the other +three restrained him. Yet some little of that much she may have seen +reflected in his eyes, for all that day she rode pensive, a fond, wistful +smile at the corners of her lips. And although to Gonzaga she manifested +no resentment, yet did she twit him touching that mistake of his. Sore +in his dignity, he liked her playful mockery little yet he liked the +words in which she framed it less. + +"How came you into so grievous an error, Ser Romeo?" she asked him, more +than once. "How could you deem him a rogue--he with so noble a mien and +so beautiful a countenance?" And without heeding the sullenness of his +answers, she would lapse with a sigh once more into reflection--a thing +that galled Gonzaga more, perhaps, than did her gibes. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +GIAN MARIA + + +It was a week after the meeting 'twixt the niece of Guidobaldo and the +Count of Aquila, when the latter--his wound being wellnigh healed--rode +one morning under the great archway that was the main entrance to the +city of Babbiano. The Captain of the Gate saluted him respectfully as he +rode by, and permitted himself to marvel at the pallor of his +Excellency's face. And yet, the cause was not very far to seek. It +stood upon four spears, among a noisy flock of circling crows, above that +very Gate---called of San Bacolo--and consisted of four detruncated human +heads. + +The sight of those dead faces grinning horribly, their long, matted hair +fluttering like rags in the April breeze, had arrested Francesco's +attention as he drew nigh. But when presently he came nearer and looked +with more intentness, a shudder of recognition ran through him, and a +great horror filled his soul and paled his cheek. The first of those +heads was that of the valiant and well-named Ferrabraccio; the next that +of Amerino Amerini; and the other two, those of his captured companions +on that night at Sant' Angelo. + +So it would seem that Gian Maria had been busy during the week that was +sped, and that there, on the walls of Babbiano, lay rotting the only +fruits which that ill-starred conspiracy was likely to bear. + +For a second it entered his mind to turn back. But his stout and +fearless nature drove him on, all unattended as he was, and in despite of +such vague forebodings as beset him. How much, he wondered, might Gian +Maria know of his own share in that mountain meeting, and how would it +fare with him if his cousin was aware that it had been proposed to the +Count of Aquila to supplant him? + +He was not long, however, in learning that grounds were wanting for such +fears as he had entertained. Gian Maria received him with even more than +wonted welcome, for he laid much store by Francesco's judgment and was in +sore need of it at present. + +Francesco found him at table, which had been laid for him amidst the +treasures of art and learning that enriched the splendid Palace library. +It was a place beloved by Gian Maria for the material comforts that it +offered him, and so he turned it to a score of vulgar purposes of his +own, yet never to that for which it was equipped, being an utter stranger +to letters and ignorant as a ploughboy. + +Ensconced in a great chair of crimson leather, at a board overladen with +choice viands and sparkling with crystal flagons and with vessels and +dishes of gold and enamel, Francesco found his cousin, and the air that +had been heavy once with the scholarly smell of parchments and musty +tomes was saturated now with pungent odours of the table. + +In stature Gian Maria was short and inclining, young though he was, to +corpulency. His face was round and pale and flabby; his eyes blue and +beady; his mouth sensual and cruel. He was dressed in a suit of lilac +velvet, trimmed with lynx fur, and slashed, Spanish fashion, in the +sleeves, to show the shirt of fine Rheims linen underneath. About his +neck hung a gold chain, bearing an Agnus Dei, which contained a relic of +the True Cross--for Gian Maria pushed his devoutness to great lengths. + +His welcome of Francesco was more effusive than its wont. He bade the +two servants who attended him to lay a plate for his illustrious cousin, +and when Aquila shortly yet courteously declined, with the assurance that +he had dined already, the Duke insisted that, at least, he should drink a +Cup of Malvasia. When out of a vessel of beaten gold they had filled a +goblet for the Count, his Highness bade the servants go, and relaxed--if, +indeed, so much may be said of one who never knew much dignity--before +his visitor. + +"I hear," said Aquila, when the first compliments were spent, "strange +stories of a conspiracy in your Duchy, and on the walls at the Gate of +San Bacolo I beheld four heads, of men whom I have known and honoured." + +"And who dishonoured themselves ere their heads were made a banquet for +the crows. There, Francesco!" He shuddered, and crossed himself. "It +is unlucky to speak of the dead at table." + +"Let us speak, then, of their offence alone," persisted Francesco subtly. +"In what did it lie? + +"In what?" returned the Duke amusedly. His voice was thin and inclining +to shrillness. "It is more than I can say. Masuccio knew. But the dog +would not disclose his secret nor the names of the conspirators until his +task should be accomplished and he had taken them at the treason he knew +they had gathered to ripen. But," he continued, an olive poised 'twixt +thumb and forefinger, "it seems they were not to be captured as easily as +he thought. He told me the traitors numbered six, and that they were to +meet a seventh there. The men who returned from the venture tell me too, +and without shame, that there were but some six or seven that beset them. +Yet they gave the Swiss trouble enough, and killed some nine of them +besides a half-score of more or less grievously wounded, whilst they but +slew two of their assailants and captured another two. Those were the +four heads you saw at the Porta San Bacolo." + +"And Masuccio?" inquired Francesco. "Has he not told you since who were +those others that escaped?" + +His Highness paused to masticate the olive. + +"Why, there lies the difficulty," said he at length. "The dog is dead. +He was killed in the affray. May he rot in hell for his obstinate +reticence. No, no!" he checked himself hastily. "He's dead, and the +secret of this treason, as well as the names of the traitors, have +perished with him. Yet I am a clement man, Francesco, and sorely though +that dog has wronged me by his silence, I thank Heaven for the grace to +say--God rest his vile soul!" + +The Count flung himself into a chair, as much to dissemble such signs of +relief as might show upon his face, as because he wished to sit. + +"But surely Masuccio left you some information!" he exclaimed. + +"The very scantiest," returned Gian Maria, in chagrined accents. "It was +ever the way of that secretive vassal. Damn him! He frankly told me +that if I knew, I would talk. Heard you ever of such insufferable +insolence to a prince? All that he would let me learn was that there was +a conspiracy afoot to supplant me, and that he was going to capture the +conspirators, together with the man whom they were inviting to take my +place. Ponder it, Francesco! Such are the murderous plans my loving +subjects form for my undoing--I who rule them with a rod of gold, the +most clement, just and generous prince in Italy. Cristo buono! Do you +marvel that I lost patience and had their hideous heads set upon spears?" + +"But did you not say that two of these conspirators were brought back +captive?" + +The Duke nodded, his mouth too full for words. + +"Then, at their trial, what transpired?" + +"Trial? There was no trial." Gian Maria chewed vigorously for a moment. +"I tell you I was so heated with anger at this base ingratitude, that I +had not even the wit to have the names of their associates tortured out +of them. Within a half-hour of their arrival in Babbiano, the heads of +these men whom it had pleased Heaven to deliver up to me were where you +saw them to-day." + +"You sent them thus to their death?" gasped Francesco, rising to his feet +and eyeing his cousin with mingled wonder and anger. "You sent men of +such families as these to the headsman, without a trial? I think, Gian +Maria, that you must be mad if so rashly you can shed such blood as +this." + +The Duke sank back in his chair to gape at his impetuous cousin. Then, +in sullen anger: "To whom do you speak?" he demanded. + +"To a tyrant who calls himself the most clement, just and generous prince +in Italy, and who lacks the wisdom to see that he is undermining with his +own hands, and by his own rash actions, a throne that is already +tottering. Can you not think that this might mean a revolution? It +amounts to murder, and though dukes resort to it freely enough in Italy, +it is not openly and defiantly wrought, as is this." + +Anger there was in the Duke's soul, but there was still more fear--so +much, that it shouldered the anger aside. + +"I have provided against rebellion," he announced, with an ease that he +vainly strove to feel. "I have given the command of my guards to Martino +Armstadt, and he has engaged for me a company of five hundred Swiss +lanzknechte that were lately in the pay of the Baglioni of Perugia." + +"And you deem this security?" rejoined Francesco, with a smile of scorn. +"To hedge your throne with foreign spears commanded by a foreigner?" + +"This and God's grace," was the pious answer. + +"Bah!" answered Francesco, impatient at the hypocrisy. "Win the hearts +of your people. Let that be your buckler." + +"Hush!" whispered Gian Maria. "You blaspheme. Does not every act of my +self-sacrificing life point to such an aim? I live for my people. But, +by my soul, they ask too much when they ask that I should die for them. +If I serve those who plot against my life, as I have served these men you +speak of, who shall blame me? I tell you, Francesco, I wish I might have +those others who escaped, that I might do as much by them. By the living +God, I do! And as for the man who was to have supplanted me----" He +paused, a deadly smile on his sensual mouth completing the sentence more +effectively than lay within the power of words. "Who could it have +been?" he mused. "I've vowed that if Heaven will grant me that I +discover him, I'll burn a candle to Santa Fosca every Saturday for a +twelvemonth and go fasting on the Vigil of the Dead. Who--who could it +have been, Franceschino?" + +"How should I know?" returned Francesco, evading the question. + +"You know so much, Checco mio. Your mind is so quick to fathom matters +of this kind. Think you, now, it might have been the Duca Valentino?" + +Francesco shook his head. + +"When Caesar Borgia comes he will know no need to resort to such poor +means. He will come in arms to reduce you by his might." + +"God and the saints protect me!" gasped the Duke. "You talk of it as if +he were already marching." + +"Then I talk of it advisedly. The event is none so remote as you would +make yourself believe. Listen, Gian Maria! I have not ridden from +Aquila for just the pleasure of passing the time of day with you. +Fabrizio da Lodi and Fanfulla degli Arcipreti have been with me of late." + +"With you?" cried the Duke, his little eyes narrowing themselves as they +glanced up at his cousin. "With you--eh?" He shrugged his shoulders +and spread his palms before him. "Pish! See into what errors even so +clear a mind as mine may fall. Do you know, Francesco, that marking +their absence since that conspiracy was laid, I had a half-suspicion they +were connected with it." And he devoted his attention to a honeycomb. + +"You have not in all your Duchy two hearts more faithful to Babbiano," +was the equivocal reply. "It was on the matter of this very peril that +threatens you that they came to me." + +"Ah!" Gian Maria's white face grew interested. + +And now the Count of Aquila talked to the Duke of Babbiano much as +Fabrizio da Lodi had talked to the Count that night at Sant' Angelo. He +spoke of the danger that threatened from the Borgia, of the utter lack of +preparation, and of Gian Maria's contempt of the counsels given him. He +alluded to the discontent rife among his subjects at this state of +things, and to the urgent need to set them right. When he had done, the +Duke sat silent a while, his eyes bent thoughtfully upon his platter, on +which the food lay now unheeded. + +"An easy thing, is it not, Francesco, to say to a man: this is wrong, and +that is wrong. But who is there, pray, to set it right for me?" + +"That, if you will say but the word, I will attempt to do." + +"You?" cried the Duke, and far from manifesting satisfaction at having +one offer himself to undertake to right this very crooked business, Gian +Maria's face reflected an incredulous anger and some little scorn. "And +how, my marvellous cousin, would you set about it?" he inquired, a sneer +lurking in his tone. + +"I would place such matters as the levying of money by taxation in the +hands of Messer Despuglio, and at whatever sacrifice to your own +extravagance, I would see that for months to come the bulk of these +moneys is applied to the levying and arming of suitable men. I have some +skill as a condottiero--leastways, so more than one foreign prince has +been forced to acknowledge. I will lead your army when I have raised it, +and I will enter into alliances for you with our neighbouring States, +who, seeing us armed, will deem us a power worthy of their alliance. And +so, what man can do to stem the impending flood of this invasion, that +will I do to defend your Duchy. Make me your gonfalonier, and in a month +I will tell you whether it lies in my power or not to save your State." + +The eyes of Gian Maria had narrowed more and more whilst Francesco spoke, +and into his shallow face had crept an evil, suspicious look. As the +Count ceased, he gave vent to a subdued laugh, bitter with mockery. + +"Make you my gonfalonier?" he muttered, in consummate amusement. "And +since when has Babbiano been a republic--or is it your aim to make it +one, and establish yourself as its chief magistrate?" + +"If you misapprehend me so----" began Francesco, but his cousin +interrupted him with heightening scorn. + +"Misapprehend you, Messer Franceschino? No, no. I understand you but +too well." He rose suddenly from his interrupted meal, and came a step +nearer his cousin. "I hear rumours of this growing love my people are +manifesting for the Count of Aquila, and I have let them go unheeded. +That rogue Masuccio warned me ere he died, and I answered him with my +whip across his face. But I am by no means sure that I have been +proceeding wisely. I had a dream two nights ago---- But let that be! +When it so happens that in any State there is a man whom the people +prefer to him who rules them, and when it so happens that this man is of +as good blood and high birth as are you, he becomes a danger to him that +sits the throne. I need scarce remind you," he added, with a horrid +grin, "of how the Borgias deal with such individuals, nor need I add that +a Sforza may see fit to emulate those very conclusive measures of +precaution. The family of Sforza has bred as yet no fools, nor shall I +prove myself the first by placing in another's hands the power to make +himself my master. You see, my gentle cousin, how transparent your aims +become under my eyes. I am keen of vision, Franceschino, keen of +vision!" He tapped his nose and chuckled a malicious appreciation of his +own acute perceptions. + +Francesco regarded him with an eye of stony scorn. He might have +answered, had he been so disposed, that the Duchy of Babbiano was his to +take whenever he pleased. He might have told him that, and defied him. +But he went more slowly than did this man of a family that bred no fools. + +"Do you know me, then, so little, Gian Maria," said he, not without +bitterness, "that you think I hunger for so empty a thing as this ducal +pomp you clutch so fearfully? I tell you, man, that I prefer my liberty +to an imperial throne. But I waste breath with you. Yet, some day, when +your crown shall have passed from you and your power have been engulfed +in the Borgia's rapacious maw, remember my offer which might have saved +you and which with insults you disregarded, as you disregarded the advice +your older counsellors gave you." + +Gian Maria shrugged his fat shoulders. + +"If by that other advice you mean the counsel that I should take +Guidobaldo's niece to wife, you may give ease unto your patriotic soul. +I have consented to enter into this alliance. And now," he ended, with +another of his infernal chuckles, "you see how little I need dread this +terrible son of Pope Alexander. Allied with Urbino and the other States +that are its friends, I can defy the might of Caesar Borgia. I shall +sleep tranquil of nights beside my beauteous bride, secure in the +protection her uncle's armies will afford me, and never needing so much +as my valiant cousin's aid as my gonfalonier." + +The Count of Aquila changed colour despite himself, and the Duke's +suspicious eyes were as quick to observe it as was his mind to +misinterpret its meaning. He registered a vow to set a watch on this +solicitous cousin who offered so readily to bear his gonfalon. + +"I felicitate you, at least," said Francesco gravely, "upon the wisdom of +that step. Had I known of it I had not troubled you with other proposals +for the safety of your State. But, may I ask you, Gian Maria, what +influences led you to a course which, hitherto, you have so obstinately +refused to follow?" + +The Duke shrugged his shoulders. + +"They plagued me so," he lamented, with a grimace, "that in the end I +consented. I could withstand Lodi and the others, but when my mother +joined them with her prayers--I should say, her commands--and pointed out +again my peril to me, I gave way. After all a man must wed. And since +in my station he need not let his marriage weigh too much upon him, I +resolved on it for the sake of security and peace." + +Since it was the salvation of Babbiano that he aimed at, the Count of +Aquila should have rejoiced at Gian Maria's wise resolve, and no other +consideration should have tempered so encompassing a thing as that joy of +his should have been. Yet, when later he left his cousin's presence, the +only feeling that he carried with him was a deep and bitter resentment +against the Fate that willed such things, blent with a sorrowing pity for +the girl that was to wed his cousin and a growing hatred for the cousin +who made him pity her. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE AMOROUS DUKE + + +From a window of the Palace of Babbiano the Lord of Aquila watched the +amazing bustle in the courtyard below, and at his side stood Fanfulla +degli Arcipreti, whom he had summoned from Perugia with assurances that, +Masuccio being dead, no peril now menaced him. + +It was a week after that interview at which Gian Maria had made known his +intentions to his cousin, and his Highness was now upon the point of +setting out for Urbino, to perform the comedy of wooing the Lady +Valentina. This was the explanation of that scurrying of servitors and +pages, that parading of men-at-arms, and that stamping of horses and +mules in the quadrangle below. Francesco watched the scene with a smile +of some bitterness, his companion with one of supreme satisfaction. + +"Praised be Heaven for having brought his Highness at last to a sense of +his duty," remarked the courtier. + +"It has often happened to me," said Francesco, disregarding his +companion's words, "to malign the Fates for having brought me into the +world a count. But in the future I shall give them thanks, for I see how +much worse it might have been--I might have been born a prince, with a +duchy to rule over. I might have been as that poor man, my cousin, a +creature whose life is all pomp and no real dignity, all merrymaking and +no real mirth--loveless, isolated and vain." + +"But," cried the amazed Fanfulla, "assuredly there are compensations?" + +"You see that bustle. You know what it portends. What compensation can +there be for that?" + +"It is a question you should be the last to ask, my lord. You have seen +the niece of Guidobaldo, and having seen her, can you still ask what +compensation does this marriage offer Gian Maria?" + +"Do you, then, not understand?" returned Aquila, with a wan smile. "Do +you not see the tragedy of it? Is it nothing that two States, having +found that this marriage would be mutually advantageous, have determined +that it shall take place? That meanwhile the chief actors--the victims, +I might almost call them--have no opportunity of selecting for +themselves. Gian Maria goes about it resignedly. He will tell you that +he has always known that some day he must wed and do his best to beget a +son. He held out long enough against this alliance, but now that +necessity is driving him at last, he goes about it much as he would go +about any other State affair--a coronation, a banquet, or a ball. Can +you wonder now that I would not accept the throne of Babbiano when it was +offered me? I tell you, Fanfulla, that were I at present in my cousin's +shoes, I would cast crown and purple at whomsoever had a fancy for them +ere they crushed the life out of me and left me a poor puppet. Sooner +than endure that hollow mockery of a life I would become a peasant or a +vassal; I would delve the earth and lead a humble life, but lead it in my +own way, and thank God for the freedom of it; choose my own comrades; +live as I list, where I list; love as I list, where I list, and die when +God pleases with the knowledge that my life had not been altogether +barren. And that poor girl, Fanfulla! Think of her. She is to be +joined in loveless union to such a gross, unfeeling clod as Gian Maria. +Have you no pity for her?" + +Fanfulla sighed, his brow clouded. + +"I am not so dull but that I can see why you should reason thus to-day," +said he. "These thoughts have come to you since you have seen her." + +Franceseo sighed deeply. + +"Who knows?" he made answer wistfully. "In the few moments that we +talked together, in the little time that I beheld her, it may be that she +dealt me a wound far deeper than the one to which she so mercifully +sought to minister." + +Now for all that in what the Lord of Aquila said touching the projected +union there was a deal of justice, yet when he asserted that the chief +actors were to have no opportunity of selecting for themselves, he said +too much. That opportunity they were to have. It occurred three days +later at Urbino, when the Duke and Valentina were brought together at the +banquet of welcome given by Guidobaldo to his intended nephew-in-law. +The sight of her resplendent beauty came as a joyful shock to Gian Maria, +and filled him with as much impatience to possess her as did his own +gross ugliness render him offensive in her eyes. Averse had she been to +this wedding from the moment that it had been broached to her. The sight +of Gian Maria completed her loathing of the part assigned her, and in her +heart she registered a vow that sooner than become the Duchess of +Babbiano, she would return to her Convent of Santa Sofia and take the +veil. + +Gian Maria sat beside her at the banquet, and in the intervals of eating +--which absorbed him mightily--he whispered compliments at which she +shuddered and turned pale. The more strenuously did he strive to please, +in his gross and clumsy fashion, the more did he succeed in repelling and +disgusting her, until, in the end, with all his fatuousness, he came to +deem her oddly cold. Of this, anon, he made complaint to that +magnificent prince, her uncle. But Guidobaldo scoffed at his qualms. + +"Do you account my niece a peasant girl?" he asked. "Would you have her +smirk and squirm at every piece of flattery you utter? So that she weds +your Highness what shall the rest signify?" + +"I would she loved me a little," complained Gian Maria foolishly. + +Guidobaldo looked him over with an eye that smiled inscrutably, and it +may have crossed his mind that this coarse, white-faced Duke was too +ambitious. + +"I doubt not that she will," he answered, in tones as inscrutable as his +glance. "So that you woo with grace and ardour, what woman could +withstand your Highness? Be not put off by such modesty as becomes a +maid." + +Those words of Guidobaldo's breathed new courage into him. Nor ever +after could he think that her coldness was other than a cloak, a sort of +maidenly garment behind which modesty bade her conceal the inclinations +of her heart. Reasoning thus, and having in support of it his wondrous +fatuity, it so befell that the more she shunned and avoided him, the more +did he gather conviction of the intensity of her affection; the more +loathing she betrayed, the more proof did it afford him of the consuming +quality of her passion. In the end, he went even so far as to applaud +and esteem in her this very maidenly conduct. + +There were hunting-parties, hawking-parties, water-parties, banquets, +comedies, balls, and revels of every description, and for a week all went +well at Urbino. Then, as suddenly as if a cannon had been fired upon the +Palace, the festivities were interrupted. The news that an envoy of +Caesar Borgia's was at Babbiano with a message from his master came like +a cold douche upon Gian Maria. It was borne to him in a letter from +Fabrizio da Lodi, imploring his immediate return to treat with this +plenipotentiary of Valentino's. + +No longer did he disregard the peril that threatened him from the all- +conquering Borgia, no longer deem exaggerated by his advisers the cause +for fear. This sudden presence of Valentino's messenger, coming, too, at +a time when it would almost seem as if the impending union with Urbino +had spurred the Borgia to act before the alliance was established, filled +him with apprehension. + +In one of the princely chambers that had been set aside for his use +during his visit to Urbino he discussed the tragic news with the two +nobles who had accompanied him--Alvaro de Alvari and Gismondo Santi--and +both of them, whilst urging him to take the advice of Lodi and return at +once, urged him, too, to establish his betrothal ere he left. + +"Bring the matter to an issue at once, your Highness," said Santi, "and +thus you will go back to Babbiano well-armed to meet the Duca Valentino's +messenger." + +Readily accepting this advice, Gian Maria went in quest of Guidobaldo, +and laid before him his proposals, together with the news which had +arrived and which was the cause of the haste he now manifested. +Guidobaldo listened gravely. In its way the news affected him as well, +for he feared the might of Caesar Borgia as much as any man in Italy, and +he was, by virtue of it, the readier to hasten forward an alliance which +should bring another of the neighbouring states into the powerful +coalition he was forming. + +"It shall be as you wish," answered him the gracious Lord of Urbino, "and +the betrothal shall be proclaimed to-day, so that you can bear news of it +to Valentino's messenger. When you have heard this envoy, deliver him an +answer of such defiance or such caution as you please. Then return in +ten days' time to Urbino, and all shall be ready for the nuptials. But, +first of all, go you and tell Monna Valentina." + +Confident of success, Gian Maria obeyed his host, and went in quest of +the lady. He gained her ante-chamber, and thence he despatched an idling +page to request of her the honour of an audience. + +As the youth passed through the door that led to the room beyond, Gian +Maria caught for a moment the accents of an exquisite male voice singing +a love-song to the accompaniment of a lute. + + "Una donna piů bella assai che 'l sole..." + +came the words of Petrarch, and he heard them still, though muffled, for +a moment or two after the boy had gone. Then it ceased abruptly, and a +pause followed, at the end of which the page returned. Raising the +portičre of blue and gold, he invited Gian Maria to enter. + +It was a room that spoke with eloquence of the wealth and refinement of +Montefeltro, from the gilding and ultramarine of the vaulted ceiling with +its carved frieze of delicately inlaid woodwork, to the priceless +tapestries beneath it. Above a crimson prie-dieu hung a silver crucifix, +the exquisite workmanship of the famous Anichino of Ferrara. Yonder +stood an inlaid cabinet, surmounted by a crystal mirror and some wonders +of Murano glass. There was a picture by Mantegna, some costly cameos and +delicate enamels, an abundance of books, a dulcimer which a fair-haired +page was examining with inquisitive eyes, and by a window on the right +stood a very handsome harp that Guidobaldo had bought his niece in +Venice. + +In that choice apartment of hers the Duke found Valentina surrounded by +her ladies, Peppe the fool, a couple of pages, and a half-dozen gentlemen +of her uncle's court. One of these--that same Gonzaga who had escorted +her from the Convent of Santa Sofia--most splendidly arrayed in white +taby, his vest and doublet rich with gold, sat upon a low stool, idly +fingering the lute in his lap, from which Gian Maria inferred that his +had been the voice that had reached him in the ante-chamber. + +At the Duke's advent they all rose saving Valentina and received him with +a ceremony that somewhat chilled his ardour. He advanced; then halted +clumsily, and in a clumsy manner framed a request that he might speak +with her alone. In a tired, long-suffering way she dismissed that court +of hers, and Gian Maria stood waiting until the last of them had passed +out through the tall windows that abutted on to a delightful terrace, +where, in the midst of a green square, a marble fountain flashed and +glimmered in the sunlight. + +"Lady," he said, when they were at last alone, "I have news from Babbiano +that demands my instant return." And he approached her by another step. + +In truth he was a dull-witted fellow or else too blinded by fatuity to +see and interpret aright the sudden sparkle in her eye, the sudden, +unmistakable expression of relief that spread itself upon her face. + +"My lord," she answered, in a low, collected voice, "we shall grieve at +your departure." + +Fool of a Duke that he was! Blind, crass and most fatuous of wooers! +Had he been bred in courts and his ears attuned to words that meant +nothing, that were but the empty echoes of what should have been meant; +was he so new to courtesies in which the heart had no share, that those +words of Valentina's must bring him down upon his knees beside her, to +take her dainty fingers in his fat hands, and to become transformed into +a boorish lover of the most outrageous type? + +"Shall you so?" he lisped, his glance growing mighty amorous. "Shall you +indeed grieve?" + +She rose abruptly to her feet. + +"I beg that your Highness will rise," she enjoined him coldly, a coldness +which changed swiftly to alarm as her endeavours to release her hand +proved vain. For despite her struggles he held on stoutly. This was +mere coyness, he assured himself, mere maidenly artifice which he must +bear with until he had overcome it for all time. + +"My lord, I implore you!" she continued. "Bethink you of where you are-- +of who you are." + +"Here will I stay until the crack of doom," he answered, with an odd +mixture of humour, ardour and ferocity, "unless you consent to listen to +me." + +"I am ready to listen, my lord," she answered, without veiling a +repugnance that he lacked the wit to see. "But it is not necessary that +you should hold my hand, nor fitting that you should kneel." + +"Not fitting?" he exclaimed. "Lady, you do not apprehend me rightly. Is +it not fitting that all of us--be we princes or vassals--shall kneel +sometimes?" + +"At your prayers, my lord, yes, most fitting." + +"And is not a man at his prayers when he woos? What fitter shrine in all +the world than his mistress's feet?" + +"Release me," she commanded, still struggling. "Your Highness grows +tiresome and ridiculous." + +"Ridiculous?" + +His great, sensual mouth fell open. His white cheeks grew mottled, and +his little eyes looked up with a mighty evil gleam in their cruel blue. +A moment he stayed so, then he rose up. He released her hands as she had +bidden him, but he clutched her arms instead, which was yet worse. + +"Valentina," he said, in a voice that was far from steady, "why do you +use me thus unkindly?" + +"But I do not," she protested wearily, drawing back with a shudder from +the white face that was so near her own, inspiring her with a loathing +she could not repress. "I would not have your Highness look foolish, and +you cannot conceive how----" + +"Can you conceive how deeply, how passionately I love you?" he broke in, +his grasp tightening. + +"My lord, you are hurting me!" + +"And are you not hurting me?" he snarled. "What is a pinched arm when +compared with such wounds as your eyes are dealing me? Are you not----" + +She had twisted from his grasp, and in a bound she had reached the +window-door through which her attendants had passed. + +"Valentina!" he cried, as he sprang after her, and it was more like the +growl of a beast than the cry of a lover. He caught her, and with scant +ceremony he dragged her back into the room. + +At this, her latent loathing, contempt and indignation rose up in arms. +Never had she heard tell of a woman of her rank being used in this +fashion. She abhorred him, yet she had spared him the humiliation of +hearing it from her lips, intending to fight for her liberty with her +uncle. But now, since he handled her as though she had been a serving- +wench; since he appeared to know nothing of the deference due to her, +nothing of the delicacies of people well-born and well-bred, she would +endure his odious love-making no further. Since he elected to pursue his +wooing like a clown, the high-spirited daughter of Urbino promised +herself that in like fashion would she deal with him. + +Swinging herself free from his grasp a second time, she caught him a +stinging buffet on the ducal cheek which--so greatly did it take him by +surprise--all but sent him sprawling. + +"Madonna!" he panted. "This indignity to me!" + +"And what indignities have not I suffered at your hands?" she retorted, +with a fierceness of glance before which he recoiled. And as she now +towered before him, a beautiful embodiment of wrath, he knew not whether +he loved her more than he feared her, yet the desire to possess her and +to tame her was strong within him. + +"Am I a baggage of your camps," she questioned furiously, "to be so +handled by you? Do you forget that I am the niece of Guidobaldo, a lady +of the house of Rovere, and that from my cradle I have known naught but +the respect of all men, be they born never so high? That to such by my +birth I have the right? Must I tell you in plain words, sir, that though +born to a throne, your manners are those of a groom? And must I tell +you, ere you will realise it, that no man to whom with my own lips I have +not given the right, shall set hands upon me as you have done?" + +Her eyes flashed, her voice rose, and higher raged the storm; and Gian +Maria was so tossed and shattered by it that he could but humbly sue for +pardon. + +"What shall it signify that I am a Duke," he pleaded timidly, "since I am +become a lover? What is a Duke then? He is but a man, and as the +meanest of his subjects his love must take expression. For what does +love know of rank?" + +She was moving towards the window again, and for all that he dared not a +second time arrest her by force, he sought by words to do so. + +"Madonna," he exclaimed, "I implore you to hear me. In another hour I +shall be in the saddle, on my way to Babbiano." + +"That, sir," she answered him, "is the best news I have heard since your +coming." And without waiting for his reply, she stepped through the open +window on to the terrace. + +For a second he hesitated, a sense of angry humiliation oppressing his +wits. Then he started to follow her; but as he reached the window the +little crook-backed figure of Ser Peppe stood suddenly before him with a +tinkle of bells, and a mocking grin illumining his face. + +"Out of the way, fool," growled the angry Duke. But the odd figure in +its motley of red and black continued where it stood. + +"If it is Madonna Valentina you seek," said he, "behold her yonder." + +And Gian Maria, following the indication of Peppe's lean finger, saw that +she had rejoined her ladies and that thus his opportunity of speaking +with her was at an end. He turned his shoulder upon the jester, and +moved ponderously towards the door by which he had originally entered the +room. It had been well for Ser Peppe had he let him go. But the fool, +who loved his mistress dearly, and had many of the instincts of the +faithful dog, loving where she loved and hating where she hated, could +not repress the desire to send a gibe after the retreating figure, and +inflict another wound in that much wounded spirit. + +"You find it a hard road to Madonna's heart, Magnificent," he called +after him. "Where your wisdom is blind be aided by the keen eyes of +folly." + +The Duke stood still. A man more dignified would have left that +treacherous tongue unheeded. But Dignity and Gian Maria were strangers. +He turned, and eyed the figure that now followed him into the room. + +"You have knowledge to sell," he guessed contemptuously. + +"Knowledge I have--a vast store--but none for sale, Lord Duke. Such as +imports you I will bestow if you ask me, for no more than the joy of +beholding you smile." + +"Say on," the Duke bade him, without relaxing the grimness that tightened +his flabby face. + +Peppe bowed. + +"It were an easy thing, most High and Mighty, to win the love of Madonna +if----" He paused dramatically. + +"Yes, yes. E dunque! If----?" + +"If you had the noble countenance, the splendid height, the shapely +limbs, the courtly speech and princely manner of one I wot of." + +"Are you deriding me?" the Duke questioned, unbelieving. + +"Ah, no, Highness! I do but tell you how it were possible that my lady +might come to love you. Had you those glorious attributes of him I speak +of, and of whom she dreams, it might be easy. But since God fashioned +you such as you are--gross of countenance, fat and stunted of shape, +boorish of----" + +With a roar the infuriated Duke was upon him. But the fool, as nimble of +legs as he was of tongue, eluded the vicious grasp of those fat hands, +and leaping through the window, ran to the shelter of his mistress's +petticoats. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +GONZAGA THE INSIDIOUS + + +Well indeed had it been for Ser Peppe had he restrained his malicious +mood and curbed the mocking speech that had been as vinegar to Gian +Maria's wounds. For when Gian Maria was sore he was wont to be +vindictive, and on the present occasion he was something even more. + +There abode with him the memory of the fool's words, and the suggestion +that in the heart of Valentina was framed the image of some other man. +Now, loving her, in his own coarse way, and as he understood love, the +rejected Duke waxed furiously jealous of this other at whose existence +Peppe had hinted. This unknown stood in his path to Valentina, and to +clear that path it suggested itself to Gian Maria that the simplest +method was to remove the obstacle. But first he must discover it, and to +this he thought, with a grim smile, the fool might--willy-nilly--help +him. + +He returned to his own apartments, and whilst the preparations for his +departure were toward, he bade Alvaro summon Martin Armstadt--the captain +of his guard. To the latter his orders were short and secret. + +"Take four men," he bade him, "and remain in Urbino after I am gone. +Discover the haunts of Peppe the fool. Seize him, and bring him after +me. See that you do it diligently, and let no suspicion of your task +arise." + +The bravo--he was little better, for all that he commanded the guards of +the Duke of Babbiano--bowed, and answered in his foreign, guttural voice +that his Highness should be obeyed. + +Thereafter Gian Maria made shift to depart. He took his leave of +Guidobaldo, promising to return within a few days for the nuptials, and +leaving an impression upon the mind of his host that his interview with +Valentina had been very different from the actual. + +It was from Valentina herself that Guidobaldo was to learn, after Gian +Maria's departure, the true nature of that interview, and what had passed +between his niece and his guest. She sought him out in his closet, +whither he had repaired, driven thither by the demon of gout that already +inhabited his body, and was wont to urge him at times to isolate himself +from his court. She found him reclining upon a couch, seeking +distraction in a volume of the prose works of Piccinino. He was a +handsome man, of excellent shape, scarce thirty years of age. His face +was pale, and there were dark circles round his eyes, and lines of pain +about his strong mouth. + +He sat up at her advent, and setting his book upon the table beside him, +he listened to her angry complaints. + +At first, the courtly Montefeltro inclined to anger upon learning of the +roughness with which Gian Maria had borne himself. But presently he +smiled. + +"When all is said, I see in this no great cause for indignation," he +assured her. "I acknowledge that it may lack the formality that should +attend the addresses of a man in the Duke's position to a lady in yours. +But since he is to wed you, and that soon, why be angered at that he +seeks to pay his court like any other man?" + +"I have talked in vain, then," she answered petulantly, "and I am +misunderstood. I do not intend to wed this ducal clod you have chosen to +be my husband." + +Guidobaldo stared at her with brows raised, and wonder in his fine eyes. +Then he shrugged his shoulders a trifle wearily. This handsome and well- +beloved Guidobaldo was very much a prince, so schooled to princely ways +as to sometimes forget that he was a man. + +"We forgive much to the impetuousness of youth," said he, very coldly. +"But there are bounds to the endurance of every one of us. As your uncle +and your prince, I claim a double duty from you, and you owe a double +allegiance to my wishes. By my twofold authority I have commanded you to +wed with Gian Maria." + +The princess in her was all forgotten, and it was just the woman who +answered him, in a voice of protest: + +"But, Highness, I do not love him." + +A shade of impatience crossed his lofty face. + +"I do not remember," he made answer wearily, "that I loved your aunt. +Yet we were wed, and through habit came to love each other and to be +happy together." + +"I can understand that Monna Elizabetta should have come to love you," +she returned. "You are not as Gian Maria. You were not fat and ugly, +stupid and cruel, as is he." + +It was an appeal that might have won its way to a man's heart through the +ever-ready channel of his vanity. But it did not so with Guidobaldo. He +only shook his head. + +"The matter is not one that I will argue. It were unworthy in us both. +Princes, my child, are not as ordinary folk." + +"In what are they different?" she flashed back at him. "Do they not +hunger and thirst as ordinary folk? Are they not subject to the same +ills; do they not experience the same joys? Are they not born, and do +they not die, just as ordinary folk? In what, then, lies this difference +that forbids them to mate as ordinary folk?" + +Guidobaldo tossed his arms to Heaven, his eyes full of a consternation +that clearly defied utterance. The violence of his gesture drew a gasp +of pain from him. At last, when he had mastered it: + +"They are different," said he, "in that their lives are not their own to +dispose of as they will. They belong to the State which they were born +to govern, and in nothing else does this become of so much importance as +in their mating. It behoves them to contract such alliances as shall +redound to the advantage of their people." A toss of her auburn head was +Valentina's interpolation, but her uncle continued relentlessly in his +cold, formal tones--such tones as those in which he might have addressed +an assembly of his captains: + +"In the present instance we are threatened--Babbiano and Urbino--by a +common foe. And whilst divided, neither of us could withstand him, +united, we shall combine to his overthrow. Therefore does this alliance +become necessary--imperative." + +"I do not apprehend the necessity," she answered, in a voice that breathed +defiance. "If such an alliance as you speak of is desirable, why may it +not be made a purely political one--such a one, for instance, as now +binds Perugia and Camerino to you? What need to bring me into question?" + +"A little knowledge of history would afford you an answer. Such +political alliances are daily made, and daily broken when more profit +offers in another quarter. But cemented by marriage, the tie, whilst +continuing political, becomes also one of blood. In the case of Urbino +and Babbiano it enters also into consideration that I have no son. It +might well be, Valentina," he pursued, with a calculating coldness that +revolted her, "that a son of yours would yet more strongly link the two +duchies. In time both might become united under him into one great power +that might vie successfully with any in Italy. Now leave me, child. As +you see, I am suffering, and when it is thus with me, and this evil +tyrant has me in its clutches, I prefer to be alone." + +There was a pause, and whilst his eyes were upon hers, hers were upon the +ground in avoidance of his glance. A frown marred her white brow, her +lips were set and her hands clenched. Pity for his physical ills fought +a while with pity for her own mental torment. At last she threw back her +beautiful head, and the manner of that action was instinct with +insubordination. + +"It grieves me to harass your Highness in such a season," she assured +him, "but I must beg your indulgence. These things may be as you say. +Your plans may be the noblest that were ever conceived, since to their +consummation would be entailed the sacrifice of your own flesh and blood +--in the person of your niece. But I will have no part in them. It may +be that I lack a like nobility of soul; it may be that I am all unworthy +of the high station to which I was born, through no fault of my own. And +so, my lord," she ended, her voice, her face, her gesture, all imparting +an irrevocable finality to her words, "I will not wed this Duke of +Babbiano--no, not to cement alliances with a hundred duchies." + +"Valentina!" he exclaimed, roused out of his wonted calm. "Do you forget +that you are my niece?" + +"Since you appear to have forgotten it." + +"These woman's whims----" he began, when she interrupted him. + +"Perhaps they will serve to remind you that I am a woman, and perhaps if +you remember that, you may consider how very natural it is that, being a +woman, I should refuse to wed for--for political ends." + +"To your chamber," he commanded, now thoroughly aroused. "And on your +knees beg Heaven's grace to help you to see your duty, since no words of +mine prevail." + +"Oh, that the Duchess were returned from Mantua," she sighed. "The good +Monna Elizabetta might melt you to some pity." + +"Monna Elizabetta is too dutiful herself to do aught but urge you to +dutifulness. There, child," he added, in a more wheedling tone, "set +aside this disobedient mood, which is unlike you and becomes you ill. +You shall be wed with a splendour and magnificence that will set every +princess in Italy green with envy. Your dowry is set at fifty thousand +ducats, and Giuliano della Rovere shall pronounce the benediction. +Already I have sent orders to Ferrara, to the incomparable Anichino, for +the majestate girdle; I will send to Venice for gold leaf and----" + +"But do you not heed me that I will not wed?" she broke in with +passionate calm, her face white, her bosom heaving. + +He rose, leaning heavily upon a gold-headed cane, and looked at her a +moment without speaking, his brows contracted. Then: + +"Your betrothal to Gian Maria is proclaimed," he announced in a voice +cold with finality. "I have passed my word to the Duke, and your +marriage shall take place so soon as he returns. Now go. Such scenes as +these are wearisome to a sick man, and they are undignified." + +"But, your Highness," she began, an imploring note now taking the place +that lately had been held by defiance. + +"Go!" he blazed, stamping his foot, and then to save his dignity--for he +feared that she might still remain--he himself turned on his heel and +passed from the apartment. + +Left to herself, she stood there a moment, allowed a sigh to escape her, +and brushed an angry tear from her brown eyes. Then, with a sudden +movement that seemed to imply suppression of her mood, she walked to the +door by which she entered, and left the chamber. + +She went down the long gallery, whose walls glowed with the new frescoes +from the wonder-working brush of Andrea Mantegna; she crossed her ante- +chamber and gained the very room where some hours ago she had received +the insult of Gian Maria's odious advances. She passed through the now +empty room, and stepped out on to the terrace that overlooked the +paradise-like gardens of the Palace. + +Close by the fountain stood a white marble seat, over which, earlier that +day, one of her women had thrown a cloak of crimson velvet. There she +now sat herself to think out the monstrous situation that beset her. The +air was warm and balmy and heavy with the scent of flowers from the +garden below. The splashing of the fountain seemed to soothe her, and +for a little while her eyes were upon that gleaming water, which rose +high in a crystal column, then broke and fell, a shower of glittering +jewels, into the broad marble basin. Then, her eyes growing tired, they +strayed to the marble balustrade, where a peacock strode with overweening +dignity; they passed on to the gardens below, gay with early blossoms, in +their stately frames of tall, boxwood hedges, and flanked by myrtles and +tall cypresses standing gaunt and black against the deep saffron of the +vesper sky. + +Saving the splashing of the fountain, and the occasional harsh scream of +the peacock, all was at peace, as if by contrast with the tumult that +raged in Valentina's soul. Then another sound broke the stillness--a +soft step, crunching the gravel of the walk. She turned, and behind her +stood the magnificent Gonzaga, a smile that at once reflected pleasure +and surprise upon his handsome face. + +"Alone, Madonna?" he said, in accents of mild wonder, his fingers softly +stirring the strings of the lute he carried, and without which he seldom +appeared about the Court. + +"As you see," she answered, and her tone was the tone of one whose +thoughts are taken up with other things. + +Her glance moved away from him again, and in a moment it seemed as if she +had forgotten his presence, so absorbed grew the expression of her face. + +But Gonzaga was not easily discouraged. Patience was the one virtue that +Valentina more than any woman--and there had been many in his young life +--had inculcated into a soul that in the main was anything but virtuous. +He came a step nearer, and leant lightly against the edge of her seat, +his shapely legs crossed, his graceful body inclining ever so slightly +towards her. + +"You are pensive, Madonna," he murmured, in his rich, caressing voice. + +"Why then," she reproved him, but in a mild tone, "do you intrude upon my +thoughts?" + +"Because they seem sad thoughts, Madonna." he answered, glibly, "and I +were a poor friend did I not seek to rouse you out of them." + +"You are that, Gonzaga?" she questioned, without looking at him. "You +are my friend?" + +He seemed to quiver and then draw himself upright, whilst across his face +there swept a shade of something that may have been good or bad or partly +both. Then he leant down until his head came very near her own. + +"Your friend?" quoth he. "Ah, more than your friend. Count me your very +slave, Madonna." + +She looked at him now, and in his countenance she saw a reflection of the +ardour that had spoken in his voice. In his eyes there was a glance of +burning intensity. She drew away from him, and at first he accounted +himself repulsed, but pointing to the space she had left: + +"Sit here beside me, Gonzaga," she said quietly, and he, scarce crediting +his own good fortune that so much favour should be showered upon him, +obeyed her in a half-timid fashion that was at odd variance with his late +bold words. + +He laughed lightly, perhaps to cover the embarrassment that beset him, +and dropping his jewelled cap, he flung one white-cased leg over the +other and took his lute in his lap, his fingers again wandering to the +strings. + +"I have a new song, Madonna," he announced, with a gaiety that was +obviously forced. "It is in ottava rima, a faint echo of the immortal +Niccolo Correggio, composed in honour of one whose description is beyond +the flight of human song." + +"Yet you sing of her?" + +"It is no better than an acknowledgment of the impossibility to sing of +her. Thus----" And striking a chord or two, he began, a mezza voce: + + "Quando sorriderán' in ciel + Gli occhi tuoi ai santi--" + +She laid a hand upon his arm to stay him. + +"Not now, Gonzaga," she begged, "I am in no humour for your song, sweet +though I doubt not that it be." + +A shade of disappointment and ruffled vanity crossed his face. Women had +been wont to listen greedily to his strambotti, enthralled by the cunning +of the words and the seductive sweetness of his voice. + +"Ah, never look so glum," she cried, smiling now at his crestfallen air. +"If I have not hearkened now, I will again. Forgive me, good Gonzaga," +she begged him, with a sweetness no man could have resisted. And then a +sigh fluttered from her lips; a sound that was like a sob came after it, +and her hand closed upon his arm. + +"They are breaking my heart, my friend. Oh, that you had left me at +peace in the Convent of Santa Sofia!" + +He turned to her, all solicitude and gentleness, to inquire the reason of +her outburst. + +"It is this odious alliance into which they seek to force me with that +man from Babbiano. I have told Guidobaldo that I will not wed this Duke. +But as profitably might I tell Fate that I will not die. The one is as +unheeding as the other." + +Gonzaga sighed profoundly, in sympathy, but said nothing. + +Here was a grief to which he could not minister, a grievance that he +could do nothing to remove. She turned from him with a gesture of +impatience. + +"You sigh," she exclaimed, "and you bewail the cruelty of the fate in +store for me. But you can do nothing for me. You are all words, +Gonzaga. You can call yourself more than my friend--my very slave. Yet, +when I need your help, what do you offer me? A sigh!" + +"Madonna, you are unjust," he was quick to answer, with some heat. "I +did not dream--I did not dare to dream--that it was my help you sought. +My sympathy, I believed, was all that you invited, and so, lest I should +seem presumptuous, it was all I offered. But if my help you need; if you +seek a means to evade this alliance that you rightly describe as odious, +such help as it lies in a man's power to render shall you have from me." + +He spoke almost fiercely and with a certain grim confidence, for all that +as yet no plan had formed itself in his mind. + +Indeed, had a course been clear to him, there had been perhaps less +confidence in his tone, for, after all, he was not by nature a man of +action, and his character was the very reverse of valiant. Yet so +excellent an actor was he as to deceive even himself by his acting, and +in this suggestion of some vague fine deeds that he would do, he felt +himself stirred by a sudden martial ardour, and capable of all. He was +stirred, too, by the passion with which Valentina's beauty filled him--a +passion that went nearer to making a man of him than Nature had succeeded +in doing. + +That now, in the hour of her need, she should turn so readily to him for +assistance, he accepted as proof that she was not deaf to the voice of +this great love he bore her, but of which he never yet had dared to show +a sign. The passing jelousy that he had entertained for that wounded +knight they had met at Acquasparta was laid to rest by her present +attitude towards him, the knight, himself forgotten. + +As for Valentina, she listened to his ready speech and earnest tone with +growing wonder both at him and at herself. Her own words had been little +more than a petulant outburst. Of actually finding a way to elude her +uncle's wishes she had no thought--unless it lay in carrying out that +threat of hers to take the veil. Now, however, that Gonzaga spoke so +bravely of doing what man could do to help her to evade that marriage, +the thought of active resistance took an inviting shape. + +A timid hope--a hope that was afraid of being shattered before it grew to +any strength--peeped now from the wondering eyes she turned on her +companion. + +"Is there a way, Gonzaga?" she asked, after a pause. + +Now during that pause his mind had been very busy. Something of a poet, +he was blessed with wits of a certain quickness, and was a man of very +ready fancy. Like an inspiration an idea had come to him; out of this +had sprung another, and yet another, until a chain of events by which the +frustration of the schemes of Babbiano and Urbino might be accomplished, +was complete. + +"I think," he said slowly, his eyes upon the ground, "that I know a way." + +Her glance was now eager, her lip tremulous, and her face a little pale. +She leant towards him. + +"Tell me," she besought him feverishly. + +He set his lute on the seat beside him, and his eyes looked round in +apprehensive survey. + +"Not here," he muttered. "There are too many ears in the Palace of +Urbino. Will it please you to walk in the gardens? I will tell you +there." + +They rose together, so ready was her assent. They looked at each other +for a second. Then, side by side, they passed down the wide marble steps +that led from the terrace to the box-flanked walks of the gardens. Here, +among the lengthening shadows, they paced in silence for a while, what +time Gonzaga sought for words in which to propound his plan. At length, +grown impatient, Valentina urged him with a question. + +"What I counsel, Madonna," he answered her, "is open defiance." + +"Such a course I am already pursuing. But whither will it lead me?" + +"I do not mean the mere defiance of words--mere protestations that you +will not wed Gian Maria. Listen, Madonna! The Castle of Roccaleone is +your property. It is perhaps the stoutest fortress in all Italy, to-day. +Lightly garrisoned and well-provisioned it might withstand a year's +siege." + +She turned to him, having guessed already the proposal in his mind, and +for all that at first her eyes looked startled, yet presently they +kindled to a light of daring that augured well for a very stout +adventure. It was a wildly romantic notion, this of Gonzaga's, worthy of +a poet's perfervid brain, and yet it attracted her by its unprecedented +flavour. + +"Could it be done?" she wondered, her eyes sparkling at the anticipation +of such a deed. + +"It could, indeed it could," he answered, with an eagerness no whit less +than her own. "Immure yourself in Roccaleone, and thence hurl defiance +at Urbino and Babbiano, refusing to surrender until they grant your +terms--that you are to marry as you list." + +"And you will help me in this?" she questioned, her mind--in its +innocence--inclining more and more to the mad project. + +"With all my strength and wit," he answered, readily and gallantly. "I +will so victual the place that it shall be able to stand siege for a +whole year, should the need arise, and I will find you the men to arm it +--a score will, I should think, be ample for our needs, since it is +mainly upon the natural strength of the place that we rely." + +"And then," said she, "I shall need a captain." + +Gonzaga made her a low bow. + +"If you will honour me with the office, Madonna, I shall serve you +loyally whilst I have life." + +A smile quivered for a second on her lips, but was gone ere the courtier +had straightened himself from his bow, for far was it from her wishes to +wound his spirit. But the notion of this scented fop in the role of +captain, ruling a handful of rough mercenaries, and directing the +operations for the resistance of an assiduous siege, touched her with its +ludicrous note. Yet, if she refused him this, it was more than likely he +would deem himself offended, and refuse to advance their plans. It +crossed her mind--in the full confidence of youth--that if he should fail +her when the hour of action came, she was of stout enough heart to aid +herself. And so she consented, whereat again he bowed, this time in +gratitude. And then a sudden thought occurred to her, and with it came +dismay. + +"But for all this, Gonzaga--for the men and the victualling--money will +be needed." + +"If you will let my friendship be proven also in that----" he began. + +But she interrupted him, struck suddenly with a solution to the riddle. + +"No, no!" she exclaimed. His face fell a little. He had hoped to place +her in his debt in every possible way, yet here was one in which she +raised a barrier. Upon her head she wore a fret of gold, so richly laced +with pearls as to be worth a prince's ransom. This she now made haste to +unfasten with fingers that excitement set a-tremble. "There!" she cried, +holding it out to him. "Turn that to money, my friend. It should yield +you ducats enough for this enterprise." + +It next occurred to her that she could not go alone into that castle with +just Gonzaga and the men he was about to enrol. His answer came with a +promptness that showed he had considered, also, that. + +"By no means," he answered her. "When the time comes you must select +such of your ladies--say three or four--as appear suitable and have your +trust. You may take a priest as well, a page or two, and a few +servants." + +Thus, in the gloaming, amid the shadows of that old Italian garden, was +the plot laid by which Valentina was to escape alliance with his Highness +of Babbiano. But there was more than that in it, although that was all +that Valentina saw. It was, too, a plot by which she might become the +wife of Messer Romeo Gonzaga. + +He was an exiled member of that famous Mantua family, which has bred some +scoundrels and one saint. With the money which, at parting, a doting +mother had bestowed upon him, he was cutting a brave figure at the Urbino +court, where he was tolerated by virtue of his kinship with Guidobaldo's +Duchess, Monna Elizabetta. But his means were running low, and it +behoved him to turn his attention to such quarters as might yield him +profit. Being poor-spirited, and--since his tastes had not inclined that +way--untrained in arms, it would have been futile for him to have sought +the career common to adventurers of his age. Yet an adventurer at heart +he was, and since the fields of Mars were little suited to his nature, he +had long pondered upon the possibilities afforded him by the lists of +Cupid. Guidobaldo--purely out of consideration for Monna Elizabetta--had +shown him a high degree of favour, and upon this he had been vain enough +to found great hopes--for Guidobaldo had two nieces. High had these +hopes run when he was chosen to escort the lovely Valentina della Rovere +from the Convent of Santa Sofia to her uncle's court. But of late they +had withered, since he had learnt what were her uncle's plans for this +lady's future. And now, by her own action, and by the plot into which +she had entered with him, they rose once more. + +To thwart Guidobaldo might prove a dangerous thing, and his life might +pay the forfeit if his schemes miscarried--clement and merciful though +Guidobaldo was. But if they succeeded, and if by love or by force he +could bring Valentina to wed him, he was tolerably confident that +Guidobaldo, seeing matters had gone too far--since Gian Maria would +certainly refuse to wed Gonzaga's widow--would let them be. To this end +no plan could be more propitious than that into which he had lured her. +Guidobaldo might besiege them in Roccaleone and might eventually reduce +them by force of arms--a circumstance, however, which, despite his words, +he deemed extremely remote. But if only he could wed Valentina before +they capitulated, he thought that he would have little cause to fear any +consequences of Guidobaldo's wrath. After all, in so far as birth and +family were concerned, Romeo Gonzaga was nowise the inferior of his +Highness of Urbino. Guidobaldo had yet another niece, and he might +cement with her the desired alliance with Babbiano. + +Alone in the gardens of the Palace, Gonzaga paced after night had fallen, +and with his eyes to the stars that began to fleck the violet sky, he +smiled a smile of cunning gratification. He bethought him how well +advised had been his suggestion that they should take a priest to +Roccaleone. Unless his prophetic sense led him deeply into error, they +would find work for that priest before the castle was surrendered. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +AMONG THE DREGS OF WINE + + +And so it befell that whilst by Guidobaldo's orders the preparations for +Valentina's nuptials went forward with feverish haste--whilst painters, +carvers, and artificers in gold and silver applied themselves to their +hurried tasks; whilst messengers raced to Venice for gold leaf and +ultramarine for the wedding-chests whilst the nuptial bed was being +brought from Rome and the chariot from Ferrara; whilst costly stuffs were +being collected, and the wedding-garments fashioned--the magnificent +Romeo Gonzaga was, on his side, as diligently contriving to render vain +all that toil of preparation. + +On the evening of the third day of his conspiring he sat in the room +allotted to him in the Palace of Urbino, and matured his plans. And so +well pleased was he with his self-communion that, as he sat at his +window, there was a contented smile upon his lips. + +He allowed his glance to stray adown the slopes of that arid waste of +rocks, to the River Metauro, winding its way to the sea, through fertile +plains, and gleaming here silver and yonder gold in the evening light. +Not quite so complacently would he have smiled had he deemed the +enterprise upon which he was engaging to be of that warlike character +which he had represented to Valentina. He did not want for cunning, nor +for judgment of the working of human minds, and he very reasonably opined +that once the Lady Valentina immured herself in Roccaleone and sent word +to her uncle that she would not wed Gian Maria, nor return to the Court +of Urbino until he passed her his ducal word that she should hear no more +of the union, the Duke would be the first to capitulate. + +He contended that this might not happen at once--nor did he wish it to; +messages would pass, and Guidobaldo would seek by cajolery to win back +his niece. This she would resist, and, in the end her uncle would see +the impassable nature of the situation, and agree to her terms that it +might be ended. That it should come to arms, and that Guidobaldo should +move to besiege Roccaleone, he did not for a moment believe--for what +manner of ridicule would he not draw upon himself from the neighbouring +States? At the worst, even if a siege there was, it would never be +carried out with the rigour of ordinary warfare; there would be no +assaults, no bombarding; it would be a simple investment, with the object +of intercepting resources, so as to starve the garrison into submission-- +for they would never dream of such victualling as Gonzaga was preparing. + +Thus communed Gonzaga with himself, and the smile enlivening the corners +of his weak mouth grew more thoughtful. He dreamed great dreams that +evening; he had wondrous visions of a future princely power that should +come to be his own by virtue of this alliance that he was so skilfully +encompassing--a fool in a fool's paradise, with his folly for only +company. + +But for all that, his dreams were wondrous sweet to indulge and his +visions truly alluring to contemplate. There were plans to be formed and +means to be devised for the flight to Roccaleone. There were +calculations to be made; the estimating of victuals, arms, and men; and +once these calculations were complete, there were all these things to be +obtained. The victuals he had already provided for, whilst of arms he +had no need to think; Roccaleone should be well stocked with them. But +the finding of the men gave him some concern. He had decided to enrol a +score, which was surely the smallest number with which he could make a +fair show of being martially in earnest. But even though the number was +modest, where was he to find twenty fellows who reeked so little of their +lives as to embark upon such an enterprise--even if lured by generous +pay--and thereby incur the ducal displeasure of Guidobaido? + +He dressed himself with sober rigour for once in his foppish life, and +descended, after night had fallen, to a tavern in a poor street behind +the Duomo, hoping that there, among the dregs of wine, he might find what +he required. + +By great good fortune he chanced upon an old freebooting captain, who +once had been a meaner sort of condottiero, but who was sorely reduced by +bad fortune and bad wine. + +The tavern was a dingy, cut-throat place, which the delicate Gonzaga had +not entered without a tremor, invoking the saints' protection, and +crossing himself ere he set foot across the threshold. Some pieces of +goat were being cooked on the embers, in a great fireplace at the end of +the room farthest from the door. Before this, Ser Luciano--the taverner +--squatted on his heels and fanned so diligently that a cloud of ashes +rose ceiling high and spread itself, together with the noisome smoke, +throughout the squalid chamber. A brass lamp swung from the ceiling, and +shone freely through that smoke, as shines the moon through an evening +mist. So foully stank the place that at first Gonzaga was moved to get +him thence. Only the reflection that nowhere in Urbino was he as likely +as here to find the thing he sought, impelled him to stifle his natural +squeamishness and remain. He slipped upon some grease, and barely saved +himself from measuring his length upon that filthy floor, a matter which +provoked a malicious guffaw from a tattered giant who watched with +interest his mincing advent. + +Perspiring, and with nerves unstrung, the courtier picked his way to a +table by the wall, and seated himself upon the coarse deal bench before +it, praying that he might be left its sole occupant. + +On the opposite wall hung a blackened crucifix and a small holy-water +stoup that had been dry for a generation, and was now a receptacle for +dust and a withered sprig of rosemary. Immediately beneath this--in the +company of a couple of tatterdemalions worthy of him--sat the giant who +had mocked his escape from falling, and as Gonzaga took his seat he heard +the fellow's voice, guttural, bottle-thickened and contentious. + +"And this wine, Luciano? Sangue della Madonna! Will you bring it before +dropping dead, pig?" + +Gonzaga shuddered and would have crossed himself again for protection +against what seemed a very devil incarnate, but that the ruffian's blood- +shot eye was set upon him in a stony stare. + +"I come, cavaliere, I come," cried the timid host, leaping to his feet, +and leaving the goat to burn while he ministered to the giant's +unquenchable thirst. + +The title caused Gonzaga to start, and he bent his eyes again on the +man's face. He found it villainous of expression, inflamed and blotched; +the hair hung matted about a bullet head, and the eyes glared fiercely +from either side of a pendulous nose. Of the knightly rank by which the +taverner addressed him the fellow bore no outward signs. Arms he +carried, it is true; a sword and dagger at his belt, whilst beside him on +the table stood a rusty steel-cap. But these warlike tools served only +to give him the appearance of a roving masnadiero or a cut-throat for +hire. Presently abandoning the comtemplation of Gonzaga he turned to his +companions, and across to the listener floated a coarse and boasting tale +of a plunderous warfare in Sicily ten years agone. Gonzaga became +excited. It seemed indeed as if this were man who might be useful to +him. He made pretence to sip the wine Luciano had brought him, and +listened avidly to that swashbuckling story, from which it appeared that +this knave had once been better circumstanced and something of a leader. +Intently he listened, and wondered whether such men as he boasted he had +led in that campaign were still to be found and could be brought +together. + +At the end of perhaps a half-hour the two companions of that thirsty +giant rose and took their leave of him. They cast a passing glance upon +Gonzaga, and were gone. + +A little while he hesitated. The ruffian seemed to have lapsed into a +reverie, or else he slept with open eyes. Calling up his courage the +gallant rose at last and moved across the room. All unversed in tavern +ways was the magnificent Gonzaga, and he who at court, in ballroom or in +antechamber, was a very mirror of all the graces of a courtier, felt +awkward here and ill at ease. + +At length, summoning his wits to his aid: + +"Good sir," said he, with some timidity, "will you do me the honour to +share a flagon with me?" + +The ruffian's eye, which but a moment back had looked vacuous and +melancholy, now quickened until it seemed ablaze. He raised his +bloodshot orbs and boldly encountered Gonzaga's uneasy glance. His lips +fell apart with an anticipatory smack, his back stiffened, and his head +was raised until his chin took on so haughty a tilt that Gonzaga feared +his proffered hospitality was on the point of suffering a scornful +rejection. + +"Will I share a flagon?" gasped the fellow, as, being the sinner that he +was and knew himself to be, he might have gasped: "Will I go to Heaven?" +"Will I--will I----?" He paused, and pursed his lips. His eyebrows were +puckered and his expression grew mighty cunning as again he took stock of +this pretty fellow who offered flagons of wine to down-at-heel +adventurers like himself. He had all but asked what was to be required +of him in exchange for this, when suddenly he bethought him--with the +knavish philosophy adversity had taught him--that were he told for what +it was intended that the wine should bribe him, and did the business suit +him not, he should, in the confession of it, lose the wine; whilst did he +but hold his peace until he had drunk, it would be his thereafter to +please himself about the business when it came to be proposed. + +He composed his rugged features into the rude semblance of a smile. + +"Sweet young sir," he murmured, "sweet, gentle and most illustrious lord, +I would share a hogshead with such a nobleman as you." + +"I am to take it that you will drink?" quoth Gonzaga, who had scarce +known what to make of the man's last words. + +"Body of Bacchus! Yes. I'll drink with you gentile signorino, until +your purse be empty or the world run dry." And he leered a mixture of +mockery and satisfaction. + +Gonzaga, still half uncertain of his ground, called the taverner and bade +him bring a flagon of his best. While Luciano was about the fetching of +the wine, constraint sat upon that oddly discordant pair. + +"It is a chill night," commented Gonzaga presently, seating himself +opposite his swashbuckler. + +"Young sir, your wits have lost their edge. The night is warm. + +"I said," spluttered Gonzaga, who was unused to contradiction from his +inferiors, and wished now to assert himself, "that the night is chill." + +"You lied, then," returned the other, with a fresh leer, "for, as I +answered you, the night is warm. Piaghe di Cristo! I am an ill man to +contradict, my pretty gallant, and if I say the night is warm, warm it +shall be though there be snow on Mount Vesuvius." + +The courtier turned pink at that, and but for the arrival of the taverner +with the wine, it is possible he might have done an unconscionable +rashness. At sight of the red liquor the fury died out of the ruffler's +face. + +"A long life, a long thirst, a long purse, and a short memory!" was his +toast, into whose cryptic meaning Gonzaga made no attempt to pry. As the +fellow set down his cup, and with his sleeve removed the moisture from +his unshorn mouth, "May I not learn," he inquired, "whose hospitality I +have the honour of enjoying?" + +"Heard you ever of Romeo Gonzaga?" + +"Of Gonzaga, yes; though of Romeo Gonzaga never. Are you he?" + +Gonzaga bowed his head. + +"A noble family yours," returned the swashbuckler, in a tone that implied +his own to be as good. "Let me name myself to you. I am Ercole +Fortemani," he said, with the proud air of one who announced himself an +emperor. + +"A formidable name," said Gonzaga, in accents of surprise, "and it bears +a noble sound." + +The great fellow turned on him in a sudden anger. + +"Why that astonishment?" he blazed. "I tell you my name is both noble +and formidable, and you shall find me as formidable as I am noble. +Diavolo! Seems it incredible?" + +"Said I so?" protested Gonzaga. + +"You had been dead by now if you had, Messer Gonzaga. But you thought +so, and I may take leave to show you how bold a man it needs to think so +without suffering." + +Ruffled as a turkey-cock, wounded in his pride and in his vanity, Ercole +hastened to enlighten Gonzaga on his personality. + +"Learn, sir," he announced, "that I am Captain Ercole Fortemani. I held +that rank in the army of the Pope. I have served the Pisans and the +noble Baglioni of Perugia with honour and distinction. I have commanded +a hundred lances of Gianinoni's famous free-company. I have fought with +the French against the Spaniards, and with the Spaniards against the +French, and I have served the Borgia, who is plotting against both. I +have trailed a pike in the emperor's following, and I have held the rank +of captain, too, in the army of the King of Naples. Now, young sir, you +have learned something of me, and if my name is not written in letters of +fire from one end of Italy to the other, it is--Body of God!--because the +hands that hired me to the work garnered the glory of my deeds." + +"A noble record," said Gonzaga, who had credulously absorbed that +catalogue of lies, "a very noble record." + +"Not so," the other contradicted, for the lust of contradiction that was +a part of him. "A great record, if you will, to commend me to hireling +service. But you may not call the service of a hireling noble." + +"It is a matter we will not quarrel over," said Gonzaga soothingly. The +man's ferocity was terrific. + +"Who says that we shall not?" he demanded. "Who will baulk me if I have +a mind to quarrel over it? Answer me!" and he half rose from his seat, +moved by the anger into which he was lashing himself. "But patience!" he +broke off, subsiding on a sudden. "I take it, it was not out of regard +for my fine eyes, nor drawn by the elegance of my apparel"--and he raised +a corner of his tattered cloak--"nor yet because you wish to throw a +main with me, that you have sought my acquaintance, and called for this +wine. You require service of me?" + +"You have guessed it." + +"A prodigious discernment, by the Host!" He seemed to incline rather +tediously to irony. Then his face grew stern, and he lowered his voice +until it was no more than a growling whisper. "Heed me, Messer Gonzaga. +If the service you require be the slitting of a gullet or some kindred +foul business, which my seeming neediness leads you to suppose me ripe +for, let me counsel you, as you value your own skin, to leave the service +unmentioned, and get you gone." + +In hasty, frantic, fearful protest were Gonzaga's hands outspread. + +"Sir, sir--I--I could not have thought it of you," he spluttered, with +warmth, much of which was genuine, for it rejoiced him to see some +scruples still shining in the foul heap of this man's rascally existence. +A knave whose knavery knew no limits would hardly have suited his ends. +"I do need a service, but it is no dark-corner work. It is a +considerable enterprise, and one in which, I think, you should prove the +very man I need." + +"Let me know more," quoth Ercole grandiloquently. + +"I need first your word that should the undertaking prove unsuited to +you, or beyond you, you will respect the matter, and keep it secret." + +"Body of Satan! No corpse was ever half so dumb as I shall be." + +"Excellent! Can you find me a score of stout fellows to form a bodyguard +and a garrison, who, in return for good quarters--perchance for some +weeks--and payment at four times the ordinary mercenaries' rate, will be +willing to take some risk, and chance even a brush with the Duke's +forces?" + +Ercole blew out his mottled cheeks until Gonzaga feared that he would +burst them. + +"It's outlawry!" he roared, when he had found his voice. "Outlawry, or +I'm a fool." + +"Why, yes," confessed Gonzaga. "It is outlaw matter of a kind. But the +risk is slender." + +"Can you tell me no more?" + +"I dare not." + +Ercole emptied his wine-cup at a draught and splashed the dregs on to the +floor. Then, setting down the empty vessel, he sat steeped in thought +awhile. Growing impatient: + +"Well," cried Gonzaga at last, "can you help me? Can you find the men?" + +"If you were to tell me more of the nature of this service you require, I +might find a hundred with ease." + +"As I have said--I need but a score." + +Ercole looked mighty grave, and thoughtfully rubbed his long nose. + +"It might be done," said he, after a pause. "But we shall have to look +for desperate knaves; men who are already under a ban, and to whom it +will matter little to have another item added to their indebtedness to +the law should they fall into its talons. How soon shall you require +this forlorn company?" + +"By to-morrow night." + +"I wonder----" mused Ercole. He was counting on his fingers, and +appeared to have lapsed into mental calculations. "I could get half-a- +score or a dozen within a couple of hours. But a score----" Again he +paused, and again he fell to thinking. At last, more briskly: "Let us +hear what pay you offer me, to thrust myself thus blindfolded into this +business of yours as leader of the company you require?" he asked +suddenly. + +Gonzaga's face fell at that. Then he suddenly stiffened, and put on an +expression of haughtiness. + +"It is my intent to lead this company myself," he loftily informed the +ruffler. + +"Body of God!" gasped Ercole, upon whose mind intruded a grotesque +picture of such a company as he would assemble, being led by this mincing +carpet-knight. Then recollecting himself: "If that be so," said he, "you +had best, yourself, enrol it. Felicissima notte!" And he waved him a +farewell across the table. + +Here was a poser for Gonzaga. How was he to go about such a business as +that? It was beyond his powers. Thus much he protested frankly. + +"Now attend to me, young sir," was the other's answer. "The matter +stands thus: If I can repair to certain friends of mine with the +information that an affair is afoot, the particulars of which I may not +give them, but in which I am to lead them myself, sharing such risk as +there may be, I do not doubt but that by this time to-morrow I can have a +score of them enrolled--such is their confidence in Ercole Fortemani. +But if I take them to enter a service unknown, under a leader equally +unknown, the forming of such a company would be a mighty tedious matter." + +This was an argument to the force of which Gonzaga could not remain +insensible. After a moment's consideration, he offered Ercole fifty gold +florins in earnest of good faith and the promise of pay, thereafter, at +the rate of twenty gold florins a month for as long as he should need his +services and Ercole, who in all his free-lancing days had never earned +the tenth of such a sum, was ready to fall upon this most noble +gentleman's neck, and weep for very joy and brotherly affection. + +The matter being settled, Gonzaga produced a heavy bag which gave forth a +jangle mighty pleasant to the ears of Fortemani, and let it drop with a +chink upon the table. + +"There are a hundred florins for the equipment of this company. I do not +wish to have a regiment of out-at-elbow tatterdemalions at my heels." +And his eye swept in an uncomplimentary manner over Ercole's apparel. +"See that you dress them fittingly." + +"It shall be done, Magnificent," answered Ercole, with a show of such +respect as he had not hitherto manifested. "And arms?" + +"Give them pikes and arquebuses, if you will; but nothing more. The +place we are bound for is well stocked with armour--but even that may not +be required." + +"May not be required?" echoed the more and more astonished swashbuckler. +Were they to be paid on so lordly a scale, clothed and fed, to induce +them upon a business that might carry no fighting with it? Surely he had +never sold himself into a more likely or promising service, and that +night he dreamt in his sleep that he was become a gentleman's steward, +and that at his heels marched an endless company of lacqueys in +flamboyant liveries. On the morrow he awoke to the persuasion that at +last, of a truth, was his fortune made, and that hereafter there would be +no more piketrailing for his war-worn old arms. + +Conscientiously he set about enrolling the company, for, in his way, this +Ercole Fortemani was a conscientious man--boisterous and unruly if you +will; a rogue, in his way, with scant respect for property; not above +cogging dice or even filching a purse upon occasion when hard driven by +necessity--for all that he was gently born and had held honourable +employment; a drunkard by long habit, and a swaggering brawler upon the +merest provocation. But for all that, riotous and dishonest though he +might be in the general commerce of life, yet to the hand that hired him +he strove--not always successfully, perhaps, but, at least, always +earnestly--to be loyal. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE "TRATTA DI CORDE" + + +Whilst the bustle of preparation went on briskly in Urbino, Gian Maria, +on his side, was rapidly disposing of affairs in Babbiano, that he might +return to the nuptials for which he was impatient. But he had chanced +upon a deeper tangle than he had reckoned with, and more to do than he +had looked for. + +On the day of his departure from Urbino, he had ridden as far as Cagli, +and halted at the house of the noble Messer Valdicampo. This had been +placed at his disposal, and there he proposed to lie the night. They had +supped--the Duke, de' Alvari, Gismondo Santi, Messér Valdicampo, his wife +and two daughters, and a couple of friends, potential citizens of Cagli, +whom he had invited, that they might witness the honour that was being +done his house. It waxed late, and the torpor that ensues upon the +generous gratification of appetite was settling upon the company when +Armstadt--Gian Maria's Swiss captain--entered and approached his master +with the air of a man who is the bearer of news. He halted a pace or two +from the Duke's high-backed chair, and stood eyeing Gian Maria in stupid +patience. + +"Well, fool?" growled the Duke, turning his head. + +The Swiss approached another step. "They have brought him, Highness," he +said in a confidential whisper. + +"Am I a wizard that I must read your thoughts?" hectored Gian Maria. +"Who has brought whom?" + +Armstadt eyed the company in hesitation. Then, stepping close to the +Duke, he murmured in his ear: + +"The men I left behind have brought the fool--Ser Peppe." + +A sudden brightening of the eye showed that Gian Maria understood. +Without apology to the board, he turned and whispered back to his captain +to have the fellow taken to his chamber, there to await him. "Let a +couple of your knaves be in attendance, and do you come too, Martino." + +Martin bowed, and withdrew, whereupon Gian Maria found grace to crave his +host's pardon, with the explanation that the man had brought him news he +had been expecting. Valdicampo, who for the honour of having a Duke +sleep beneath his roof would have stomached improprieties far more +flagrant, belittled the matter and dismissed it. And presently Gian +Maria rose with the announcement that he had far to journey on the +morrow, and so, with his host's good leave, would be abed. + +Valdicampo, himself, then played the part of chamberlain, and taking up +one of the large candle branches, he lighted the Duke to his apartments. +He would have carried his good offices, and his candles, as far as Gian +Maria's very bed-chamber, but that in the ante-room his Highness, as +politely as might be, bade him set down the lights and leave him. + +The Duke remained standing for a moment, deliberating whether to afford +knowledge to Alvari and Santi--who had followed him and stood awaiting +his commands--of what he was about to do. In the end he decided that he +would act alone and upon his sole discretion. So he dismissed them. + +When they had gone and he was quite alone, he clapped his hands together, +and in answer to that summons the door of his bedroom opened, revealing +Martin Armstadt on the threshold. + +"He is there?" inquired the Duke. + +"Awaiting your Highness," answered the Swiss, and he held the door for +Gian Maria to enter. + +The bedchamber apportioned the Duke in the Palazzo Valdicampo was a noble +and lofty room, in the midst of which loomed the great carved bed of +honour, with its upright pillars and funereal canopy. + +On the overmantel stood two five-armed sconces with lighted tapers. Yet +Gian Maria did not seem to deem that there was light enough for such +purpose as he entertained, for he bade Martin fetch him the candelabra +that had been left behind. Then he turned his attention to the group +standing by the window, where the light from the overmantel fell full +upon it. + +This consisted of three men, two being mercenaries of Armstadt's guard, +in corselet and morion, and the third, who stood captive between, the +unfortunate Ser Peppe. The fool's face was paler than its wont, whilst +the usual roguery had passed from his eyes and his mouth, fear having +taken possession of its room. He met the Duke's cruel glance with one of +alarm and piteous entreaty. + +Having assured himself that Peppe had no weapons, and that his arms were +pinioned behind him, Gian Maria bade the two guards withdraw, but hold +themselves in readiness in the ante-chamber with Armstadt. Then he +turned to Peppe with a scowl on his low brow. + +"You are not so merry as you were this morning, fool," he scoffed. + +Peppino squirmed a little, but his nature, schooled by the long habit of +jest, prompted a bold whimsicality in his reply. + +"The circumstances are scarcely as propitious--to me. Your Highness, +though, seems in excellent goodhumour." + +Gian Maria looked at him angrily a moment. He was a slow-witted man, and +he could devise no ready answer, no such cutting gibe as it would have +pleasured him to administer. He walked leisurely to the fire-place, and +leant his elbow on the overmantel. + +"Your humour led you into saying some things for which I should be +merciful if I had you whipped." + +"And, by the same reasoning, charitable if you had me hanged," returned +the fool dryly, a pale smile on his lips. + +"Ah! You acknowledge it?" cried Gian Maria, never seeing the irony +intended. "But I am a very clement prince, fool." + +"Proverbially clement," the jester protested, but he did not succeed this +time in excluding the sarcasm from his voice. + +Gian Maria shot him a furious glance. + +"Are you mocking me, animal? Keep your venomous tongue in bounds, or +I'll have you deprived of it." + +Peppe's face turned grey at the threat, as well it might--for what should +such a one as he do in the world without a tongue? + +Seeing him dumb and stricken, the Duke continued: + +"Now, for all that you deserve a hanging for your insolence, I am willing +that you should come by no hurt so that you answer truthfully such +questions as I have for you." + +Peppino's grotesque figure was doubled in a bow. + +"I await your questions, glorious lord," he answered. + +"You spoke----" the Duke hesitated a moment, writhing inwardly at the +memory of the exact words in which the fool had spoken. "You spoke this +morning of one whom the Lady Valentina had met." + +The fear seemed to increase on the jester's face. "Yes," he answered, in +a choking voice. + +"Where did she meet this knight you spoke of, and in such wondrous words +of praise described to me?" + +"In the woods at Acquasparta, where the river Metauro is no better than a +brook. Some two leagues this side of Sant' Angelo." + +"Sant' Angelo!" echoed Gian Maria, starting at the very mention of the +place where the late conspiracy against him had been hatched. "And when +was this?" + +"On the Wednesday before Easter, as Monna Valentina was journeying from +Santa Sofia to Urbino." + +No word spake the Duke in answer. He stood still, his head bowed, and +his thoughts running again on that conspiracy. The mountain fight in +which Masuccio had been killed had taken place on the Tuesday night, and +the conviction--scant though the evidence might be--grew upon him that +this man was one of the conspirators who had escaped. + +"How came your lady to speak with this man--was he known to her?" he +inquired at last. + +"No, Highness; but he was wounded, and so aroused her compassion. She +sought to minister to his hurt." + +"Wounded?" cried Gian Maria, in a shout. "Now, by God, it is as I +suspected. I'll swear he got that wound the night before at Sant' +Angelo. What was his name, fool? Tell me that, and you shall go free." + +For just a second the hunchback seemed to hesitate. He stood in awesome +fear of Gian Maria, of whose cruelties some ghastly tales were told. But +in greater fear he stood of the eternal damnation he might earn did he +break the oath he had plighted not to divulge that knight's identity. + +"Alas!" he sighed, "I would it might be mine to earn my freedom at so +light a price; yet it is one that ignorance will not let me pay. I do +not know his name." + +The Duke looked at him searchingly and suspiciously. + +Dull though he was by nature, eagerness seemed now to have set a cunning +edge upon his wits, and suspicion had led him to observe the fool's +momentary hesitation. + +"Of what appearance was he? Describe him to me. How was he dressed? +What was the manner of his face?" + +"Again, Lord Duke, I cannot answer you. I had but the most fleeting +glimpse of him." + +The Duke's sallow countenance grew very evil-looking, and an ugly smile +twisted his lip and laid bare his strong white teeth. + +"So fleeting that no memory of him is left you?" quoth he. + +"Precisely, Highness." + +"You lie, you filth," Gian Maria thundered in a towering rage. "It was +but this morning that you said his height was splendid, his countenance +noble, his manner princely, his speech courtly, and--I know not what +besides. Yet now you tell me--you tell me--that your glimpse of him was +so fleeting that you cannot describe him. You know his name, rogue, and +I will have it from you, or else----" + +"Indeed, indeed, most noble lord, be not incensed----" the fool began, in +fearful protestation. But the Duke interrupted him. + +"Incensed?" he echoed, his eyes dilating in a sort of horror at the +notion. "Do you dare impute to me the mortal sin of choler? I am not +incensed; there is no anger in me." He crossed himself, as if to +exorcise the evil mood if it indeed existed, and devotedly bowing his +head and folding his hands--"Libera me a malo, Domine!" he murmured +audibly. Then, with a greater fierceness than before--"Now," he +demanded, "will you tell me his name?" + +"I would I could," the terrified hunchback began. But at that the Duke +turned from him with a shrug of angry impatience, and clapping his hands +together: + +"Olá! Martino!" he called. Instantly the door opened, and the Swiss +appeared. "Bring in your men and your rope." + +The captain turned on his heel, and simultaneously the fool cast himself +at Gian Maria's feet. + +"Mercy, your Highness!" he wailed. "Do not have me hanged. I am----" + +"We are not going to hang you," the Duke broke in coldly. "Dead you +would indeed be dumb, and avail us nothing. We want you alive, Messer +Peppino--alive and talkative; we find you very reserved for a fool. But +we hope to make you speak." + +On his knees, Peppe raised his wild eyes to Heaven. + +"Mother of the Afflicted," he prayed, at which the Duke broke into a +contemptuous laugh. + +"What has the Heavenly Mother to do with such filth as you? Make your +appeals to me. I am the more immediate arbiter of your fate. Tell me +the name of that man you met in the woods, and all may yet be well with +you." + +Peppino knelt in silence, a cold sweat gathering on his pale brow, and a +horrid fear tightening at his heart and throat. + +And yet greater than this horror they were preparing for him was the +horror of losing his immortal soul by a breach of the solemn oath he had +sworn. Gian Maria turned from him, at last, to his bravi, who now +entered silently and with the air of men who knew the work expected of +them. Martino mounted the bed, and swung for an instant from the +framework of the canopy. + +"It will hold, Highness," he announced. + +Gian Maria bade him, since that was so, remove the velvet hangings, +whilst he despatched one of the men to see that the ante-chamber door was +closed, so that no cry should penetrate to the apartments of the +Valdicampo household. + +In a few seconds all was ready, and Peppino was rudely lifted from his +knees and from the prayers he had been pattering to the Virgin to lend +him strength in this hour of need. + +"For the last time, sir fool," quoth the Duke, "will you tell us his +name?" + +"Highness, I cannot," answered Peppe, for all that terror was freezing +his very blood. + +A light of satisfaction gleamed now in Gian Maria's eyes. + +"So you know it!" he exclaimed. "You no longer protest your ignorance, +but only that you cannot tell me. Up with him, Martino." + +In a last pitiable struggle against the inevitable, the fool broke from +his guards, and flung himself towards the door. One of the burly Swiss +caught him by the neck in a grip that made him cry out with pain. Gian +Maria eyed him with a sinister smile, and Martin proceeded to fasten one +end of the rope to his pinioned wrists. Then they led him, shivering to +the great bed. The other end of the cord was passed over one of the +bared arms of the canopy-frame. This end was grasped by the two men-at- +arms. Martin stood beside the prisoner. The Duke flung himself into a +great carved chair, an air of relish now investing his round, pale face. + +"You know what is about to befall you," he said, in tones of chilling +indifference. "Will you speak before we begin?" + +"My lord," said the fool, in a voice that terror was throttling, "you are +a good Christian, a loyal son of Mother Church, and a believer in the +eternal fires of hell?" + +A frown settled on Gian Maria's brow. Was the fool about to intimidate +him with talk of supernatural vengeance? + +"Thus," Peppe continued, "you will perhaps be merciful when I confess my +position. I made most solemn oath to the man I met at Acquasparta on +that luckless day, that I would never reveal his identity. What am I to +do? If I keep my oath, you will torture me to death perhaps. If I break +it, I shall be damned eternally. Have mercy, noble lord, since now you +know how I am placed." + +The smile broadened on Gian Maria's face, and the cruelty of his mouth +and eyes seemed intensified by it. The fool had told him that which he +would have given much to learn. He had told him that this man whose name +he sought, had so feared that his presence that day at Acquasparta should +become known, that he had bound the fool by oath not to divulge the +secret of it. Of what he had before suspected he was now assured. The +man in question was one of the conspirators; probably the very chief of +them. Nothing short of the fool's death under torture would now restrain +him from learning the name of that unknown who had done him the double +injury of conspiring against him, and--if the fool were to be believed-- +of capturing the heart of Valentina. + +"For the damnation of your soul I shall not be called to answer," he said +at last. "Care enough have I to save my own--for temptations are many +and this poor flesh is weak. But it is this man's name I need, and--by +the five wounds of Lucia of Viterbo!--I will have it. Will you speak?" + +Something like a sob shook the poor fool's deformed frame. But that was +all. With bowed head he preserved a stubborn silence. The Duke made a +sign to the men, and instantly the two of them threw their weight upon +the rope, hoisting Peppe by his wrists until he was at the height of the +canopy itself. That done, they paused, and turned their eyes upon the +Duke for further orders. Again Gian Maria called upon the fool to answer +his questions; but Peppe, a writhing, misshapen mass from which two +wriggling legs depended, maintained a stubborn silence. + +"Let him go," snarled Gian Maria, out of patience. The men released the +rope, and allowed some three feet of it to run through their hands. Then +they grasped it again, so that Peppe's sudden fall was as suddenly +arrested by a jerk that almost wrenched his arms from their sockets. A +shriek broke from him at that exquisite torture, and he was dragged once +more to the full height of the canopy. + +"Will you speak now?" asked Gian Maria coldly, amusedly almost. But +still the fool was silent, his nether lip caught so tightly in his teeth +that the blood trickled from it adown his chin. Again the Duke gave the +signal, and again they let him go. This time they allowed him a longer +drop, so that the wrench with which they arrested it was more severe than +had been the first. + +Peppe felt his bones starting from their joints, and it was as if a +burning iron were searing him at shoulder, elbow and wrist. + +"Merciful God!" he screamed. "Oh, have pity, noble lord." + +But the noble lord had him hoisted anew to the canopy. Writhing there in +the extremity of his anguish, the poor hunchback poured forth from +frothing lips a stream of curses and imprecations, invoking Heaven and +hell to strike his tormentors dead. + +But the Duke, from whose demeanour it might be inferred that he was +inured to the effect produced by this form of torture, looked on with a +cruel smile, as of one who watches the progress of events towards the end +that he desires and has planned. He was less patient, and his signal +came more quickly now. For a third time the fool was dropped, and drawn +up, now, a short three feet from the ground. + +This time he did not so much as scream. He hung there, dangling at the +rope's end, his mouth all bloody, his face ghastly in its glistening +pallor, and of his eyes naught showing save the whites. He hung there, +and moaned piteously and incessantly. Martin glanced questioningly at +Gian Maria, and his eyes very plainly inquired whether they had not +better cease. But Gian Maria paid no heed to him. + +"Will that suffice you?" he asked the fool. "Will you speak now?" + +But the fool's only answer was a moan, whereupon again, at the Duke's +relentless signal, he was swung aloft. But at the terror of a fourth +drop, more fearful than any of its three predecessors, he awoke very +suddenly to the impossible horror of his position. That this agony would +endure until he died or fainted, he was assured. And since he seemed +incapable of either fainting or dying, suffer more he could not. What +was heaven or hell to him then that the thought of either could efface +the horror of this torture and strengthen him to continue to endure the +agony of it? He could endure no more--no, not to save a dozen souls if +he had had them: + +"I'll speak," he screamed. "Let me down, and you shall have his name, +Lord Duke." + +"Pronounce it first, or the manner of your descent shall be as the +others." + +Peppe passed his tongue over his bleeding lips, hung still and spoke. + +"It was your cousin," he panted, "Francesco del Falco, Count of Aquila." + +The Duke stared at him a moment, with startled countenance and mouth +agape. + +"You are telling me the truth, animal?" he demanded, in a quivering +voice. "It was the Count of Aquila who was wounded and whom Monna +Valentina tended?" + +"I swear it," answered the fool. "Now, in the name of God and His +blessed saints, let me down." + +For a moment yet he was held there, awaiting Gian Maria's signal. The +Duke continued to eye him with that same astonished look, what time he +turned over in his mind the news he had gathered. Then conviction of the +truth sank into his mind. It was the Lord of Aquila who was the idol of +the Babbianians. What, then, more natural than that the conspirators +should have sought to place him on the throne they proposed to wrest from +Gian Maria? He dubbed himself a fool that he had not guessed so much +before. + +"Let him down," he curtly bade his men. "Then take him hence, and let +him go with God. He has served his purpose." + +Gently they lowered him, but when his feet touched the ground he was +unable to stand. His legs doubled under him, and he lay--a little crook- +backed heap--upon the rushes of the floor. His senses had deserted him. + +At a sign from Armstadt the two men picked him up and carried him out +between them. + +Gian Maria moved across the room to a tapestried priedieu, and knelt +down before an ivory crucifix to render thanks to God for the signal +light of grace, by which He had vouchsafed to show the Duke his enemy. + +Thereafter, drawing from the breast of his doublet a chaplet of gold and +amber beads, he piously discharged his nightly devotions. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE BRAYING OF AN ASS + + +When on the morrow, towards the twenty-second hour, the High and Mighty +Gian Maria Sforza rode into his capital at Babbiano, he found the city in +violent turmoil, occasioned, as he rightly guessed, by the ominous +presence of Caesar Borgia's envoy. + +A dense and sullen crowd met him at the Porta Romana, and preserved a +profound silence as he rode into the city, accompanied by Alvari and +Santi, and surrounded by his escort of twenty spears in full armour. +There was a threat in that silence more ominous than any vociferations, +and very white was the Duke's face as he darted scowls of impotent anger +this way and that. But there was worse to come. As they rode up the +Borgo dell' Annunziata the crowd thickened, and the silence was now +replaced by a storm of hooting and angry cries. The people became +menacing, and by Armstadt's orders--the Duke was by now too paralysed +with fear to issue any--the men-at-arms lowered their pikes in order to +open a way, whilst one or two of the populace, who were thrust too near +the cavalcade by the surging human tide, went down and were trampled +under foot. + +Satirical voices asked the Duke derisively was he wed, and where might be +his uncle-in-law's spears that were to protect them against the Borgia. +Some demanded to know whither the last outrageous levy of taxes was gone, +and where was the army it should have served to raise. To this, others +replied for the Duke, suggesting a score of vile uses to which the money +had been put. + +Then, of a sudden, a cry of "Murderer!" arose, followed by angry demands +that he should restore life to the valiant Ferrabraccio, to Amerini, the +people's friend, and to those others whom he had lately butchered, or +else follow them in death. Lastly the name of the Count of Aquila rang +wildly in his ears, provoking a storm of "Evviva! Live Francesco del +Falco!" and one persistent voice, sounding loudly above the others, +styled him already "il Duca Francesco." At that the blood mounted to +Gian Maria's brain, and a wave of anger beat back the fear from his +heart. He rose in his stirrups, his eyes ablaze with the jealous wrath +that possessed him. + +"Ser Martino!" he roared hoarsely to his captain. "Couch lances and go +through them at the gallop!" + +The burly Swiss hesitated, brave man though he was. Alvaro de' Alvari +and Gismondo Santi looked at each other in alarm, and the intrepid old +statesman, in whose heart no pang of fear had been awakened by the +rabble's threatening bay, changed colour as he heard that order given. + +"Highness," he implored the Duke, "You cannot mean this." + +"Not mean it?" flashed back Gian Maria, his eye travelling from Santi to +the hesitating captain. "Fool!" he blazed at the latter. "Brute beast, +for what do you wait? Did you not hear me?" + +Without a second's delay the captain now raised his sword, and his deep, +guttural voice barked an order to his men which brought their lances +below the horizontal. The mob, too, had heard that fierce command, and +awakening to their peril, those nearest the cavalcade would have fallen +back but that the others, pressing tightly from behind, held them in the +death-tide that now swept by with clattering arms and hoarse cries. + +Shrieks filled the air where lately threats had been loudly tossed. But +some there were in that crowd that would be no passive witnesses of this +butchery. Half the stones of the borgo went after that cavalcade, and +fell in a persistent shower upon them, rattling like giant hail upon +their armour, dinting many a steel-cap to its wearer's sore discomfort. +The Duke himself was struck twice, and on Santi's unprotected scalp an +ugly wound was opened from which the blood flowed in profusion to dye his +snowy locks. + +In this undignified manner they reached, at last, the Palazzo Ducale, +leaving a trail of dead and maimed to mark the way by which they had +come. + +In a white heat of passion Gian Maria sought his apartments, and came not +forth again until, some two hours later, the presence was announced him +of the emissary from Caesar Borgia, Duke of Valentinois, who sought an +audience. + +Still beside himself, and boiling with wrath at the indignities he had +received, Gian Maria--in no mood for an interview that would have +demanded coolness and presence of mind from a keener brain than his-- +received the envoy, a gloomy, priestly-faced Spaniard, in the throne-room +of the Palace. The Duke was attended by Alvari, Santi, and Fabrizio da +Lodi, whilst his mother, Caterina Colonna, occupied a chair of crimson +velvet on which the Sforza lion was wrought in gold. + +The interview was brief, and marked by a rudeness at its close that +contrasted sharply with the ceremoniousness of its inception. It soon +became clear that the ambassador's true mission was to pick a quarrel +with Babbiano on his master's behalf, to the end that the Borgia might be +afforded a sound pretext for invading the Duchy. He demanded, at first +politely and calmly, and later--when denied--with arrogant insistance, +that Gian Maria should provide the Duke of Valentinois with a hundred +lances--equivalent to five hundred men--as some contribution on his part +towards the stand which Caesar Borgia meant to make against the impending +French invasion. + +Gian Maria never heeded the restraining words which Lodi whispered in his +ear, urging him to temporise, and to put off this messenger until the +alliance with the house of Urbino should be complete and their position +strengthened sufficiently to permit them to brave the anger of Caesar +Borgia. But neither this nor the wrathful, meaning glances which his +cunning mother bent upon him served to curb him. He obeyed only the +voice of his headstrong mood, never dreaming of the consequences with +which he might be visited. + +"You will bear to the Duca Valentino this message from me," he said, in +conclusion. "You will tell him that what lances I have in Babbiano I +intend to keep, that with them I may defend my own frontiers against his +briganding advances. Messer da Lodi," he added, turning to Fabrizio and +without so much as waiting to see if the envoy had anything further to +say, "let this gentleman be reconducted to his quarters, and see that he +has safe conduct hence until he is out of our Duchy." + +When the envoy, crimson of face and threatening of eye, had withdrawn +under Lodi's escort, Monna Caterina rose, the very incarnation of +outraged patience, and poured her bitter invective upon her rash son's +head. + +"Fool!" she stormed at him. "There goes your Duchy--in the hollow of +that man's hand." Then she laughed in bitterness. "After all, in +casting it from you, perhaps you have chosen the wiser course, for, as +truly as there is a God in Heaven, you are utterly unfitted to retain +it." + +"My lady mother," he answered her, with such dignity as he could muster +from the wretched heap in which his wits now seemed to lie, "you will be +well advised to devote yourself to your woman's tasks, and not to +interfere in a man's work." + +"Man's work!" she sneered. "And you perform it like a petulant boy or a +peevish woman." + +"I perform it, Madonna, as best seems to me, for it happens that I am +Duke of Babbiano," he answered sullenly. "I do not fear any Pope's son +that ever stepped. The alliance with Urbino is all but completed. Let +that be established, and if Valentino shows his teeth--by God we'll show +ours." + +"Aye, but with this difference, that his are a wolf's teeth, and yours a +lamb's. Besides, this alliance with Urbino is all incomplete as yet. +You had been better advised to have sent away the envoy with some +indefinite promise that would have afforded you respite enough in which +to seal matters with the house of Montefeltro. As it is, your days are +numbered. Upon that message you have sent him Caesar will act at once. +For my own part, I have no mind to fall a prey to the invader, and I +shall leave Babbiano, and seek refuge in Naples. And if a last word of +advice I may offer you, it is that you do the same." + +Gian Maria rose and came down from the dais, eyeing her in a sort of dull +amazement. Then he looked, as if for help, to Alvari, to Santi, and +lastly to Lodi, who had returned while Caterina was speaking. But no +word said any of them, and grave were the eyes of all. + +"Poor-spirited are you all!" he sneered. Then his face grew dark and his +tone concentrated. "Not so am I," he assured them, "if in the past I may +have seemed it sometimes. I am aroused at length, sirs. I heard a voice +in the streets of Babbiano to-day, and I saw a sight that has put a fire +into my veins. This good-tempered, soft, indulgent Duke you knew is +gone. The lion is awake at last, and you shall see such things as you +had not dreamt of." + +They regarded him now with eyes in which the gravity was increased by a +light of fearsome wonder and inquiry. Was his mind giving way under the +prodigious strain that had been set upon it that day? If not madness, +what else did that wild boasting argue? + +"Are you all dumb?" he asked them, his eyes feverish. "Or do you deem +that I promise more than is mine to fulfil. You shall judge, and soon. +To-morrow, my lady mother, whilst you journey south, as you have told us, +I go north again, hack to Urbino. Not a day will I now waste. Within +the week, sirs, by God's grace, I shall be wed. That will give us Urbino +for a buckler, and with Urbino comes Perugia and Camerino. But more than +that. There is a princely dowry comes to us with the Lady Valentina. +How think you will I spend it? To the last florin it shall go to the +arming of men. I will hire me every free condotta in Italy. I will +raise me such an army as has never before been seen at any one time, and +with this I shall seek out the Duca Valentino. I'll not sit here at home +awaiting the pleasure of his coming, but I'll out to meet him, and with +that army I shall descend upon him as a thunderbolt out of Heaven. Aye, +my lady mother," he laughed in his madness, "the lamb shall hunt the +wolf, and rend it so that it shall never stand again to prey on other +lambs. This will I do, my friends, and there shall be such fighting as +has not been seen since the long-dead days of Castracani." + +They stared at him, scarce believing now that he was sane, and marvelling +deeply whence had sprung this sudden martial fervour in one whose nature +was more indolent than active, more timid than warlike. And yet the +reason was not far to seek, had they but cared to follow the line of +thought to which he, himself, had given them the clue when he referred to +the voice he had heard, and the sights he had seen in the streets of +Babbiano. The voice was the voice that had acclaimed his cousin +Francesco Duke. That it was through that a fierce jealousy had fired +him. This man had robbed him at once of the love of his people and of +Valentina, and thereby had set in his heart the burning desire to outdo +him and to prove wrong in their preference both his people and Valentina. +He was like a gamer who risks all on a single throw, and his stake was to +be the dowry of his bride, the game a tilt with the forces of the Borgia. +If he won he came out covered with glory, and not only the saviour of his +people and the champion of their liberty, but a glorious figure that all +Italy--or, at least, that part of it that had known the iron heel of +Valentino--should revere. Thus would he set himself right, and thus +crush from their minds the memory of his rebellious cousin with whom he +was about to deal. + +His mother turned to him now, and her words were words of caution, +prayers that he should adventure on naught so vast and appalling to her +woman's mind, without due thought and argument in council. A servant +entered at that moment, and approached the Duke. + +"Madonna," Gian Maria announced, breaking in upon her earnest words, "I +am fully resolved upon my course. If you will but delay a moment and +resume your seat, you shall witness the first scene of this great drama +that I am preparing." Then turning to the waiting servant: "Your +message?" he demanded. + +"Captain Armstadt has returned, Highness, and has brought his +Excellency." + +"Fetch lights and then admit them," he commanded briefly. "To your +places, sirs, and you, my mother. I am about to sit in judgment." + +Amazed and uncomprehending, they obeyed his wild gestures, and resumed +their places by the throne even as he walked back to the dais and sat +himself upon the ducal chair. Servants entered, bearing great candelabra +of beaten gold which they set on table and overmantel. They withdrew, +and when the doors opened again, a clank of mail, reaching them from +without, increased the astonishment of the company. + +This rose yet higher, and left them cold and speechless, when into the +chamber stepped the Count of Aquila with a man-at-arms on either side of +him, marking him a prisoner. With a swift, comprehensive glance that +took in the entire group about the throne--and without manifesting the +slightest surprise at Lodi's presence--Francesco stood still and awaited +his cousin's words. + +He was elegantly dressed, but without lavishness, and if he had the air +of a great lord, it was rather derived from the distinction of his face +and carriage. He was without arms, and bareheaded save for the gold coif +he always wore, which seemed to accentuate the lustrous blackness of his +hair. His face was impassive, and the glance as that of a man rather +weary of the entertainment provided him. + +There was an oppressive silence of some moments, during which his cousin +regarded him with an eye that glittered oddly. At last Gian Maria broke +into speech, his voice shrill with excitement. + +"Know you of any reason," he demanded, "why your head should not be +flaunted on a spear among those others on the Gate of San Bacolo?" + +Francesco's eyebrows shot up in justifiable astonishment. + +"I know of many," he answered, with a smile, an answer which by its +simplicity seemed to nonplus the Duke. + +"Let us hear some of them," he challenged presently. + +"Nay, let us hear, rather, some reason why my poor head should be so +harshly dealt with. When a man is rudely taken, as I have been, it is a +custom, which perhaps your Highness will follow, to afford him some +reason for the outrage." + +"You smooth-tongued traitor," quoth the Duke, with infinite malice, made +angrier by his cousin's dignity. "You choicely-spoken villain! You +would learn why you have been taken? Tell me, sir, what did you at +Acquasparta on the morning of the Wednesday before Easter?" + +The Count's impassive face remained inscrutable, a mask of patient +wonder. By the sudden clenching of his hands alone did he betray how +that thrust had smitten him, and his hands none there remarked. Fabrizio +da Lodi, standing behind the Duke, went pale to the lips. + +"I do not recall that I did anything there of much account," he answered. +"I breathed the good spring air in the woods." + +"And nothing else?" sneered Gian Maria. + +"I can bethink me of little else that signifies. I met a lady there with +whom I had some talk, a friar, a fool, a popinjay, and some soldiers. +But,"--he shifted abruptly, his tone growing haughty--"whatever I did, I +did as best seemed to me, and I have yet to learn that the Count of +Aquila must give account of what he does and where he does it. You have +not told me yet, sir, by what right, or fancied right, you hold me +prisoner." + +"Have I not, indeed? See you no link between your offence and your +presence near Sant' Angelo on that day?" + +"If I am to apprehend that you have had me brought here with this +indignity to set me riddles for your amusement, I am enlightened and yet +amazed. I am no court buffoon." + +"Words, words," snapped the Duke. "Do not think to beguile me with +them." With a short laugh he turned from Francesco to those upon the +dais. "You will be marvelling, sirs, and you, my lady mother, upon what +grounds I have had this traitor seized. You shall learn. On the night +of the Tuesday before Easter seven traitors met at Sant' Angelo to plot +my overthrow. Of those, the heads of four may be seen on the walls of +Babbiano now; the other three made off, but there stands one of them--the +one that was to have occupied this throne after they had unseated me." + +The eyes of all were now upon the young Count, whilst his own glance +strayed to the face of Lodi, on which there was written a consternation +so great that it must have betrayed him had the Duke but chanced to look +his way. A pause ensued which none present dared to break. Gian Maria +seemed to await an answer from Francesco; but Francesco stood impassively +regarding him, and made no sign that he would speak. At length, unable +longer to endure the silence: + +"E dunque?" cried the Duke. "Have you no answer?" + +"I would submit," returned Francesco, "that I have heard no question. I +heard a wild statement, extravagant and mad, the accusation of one +demented, a charge of which no proofs can be forthcoming, else I take it +you had not withheld them. I ask you, sirs, and you, Madonna," he +continued, turning to the others, "has his Highness said anything to +which an answer can by any means be necessary?" + +"Is it proofs you lack?" cried Gian Maria, but less confidently than +hitherto, and, so, less fiercely. A doubt had arisen in his mind born of +this strange calm on the part of Francesco--a calm that to Gian Maria's +perceptions seemed hardly the garb of guilt, but belonged rather to one +who is assured that no peril threatens him. "Is it proofs you lack?" +quoth the Duke again, and then with the air of a man launching an +unanswerable question: "How came you by the wound you had that day in the +woods?" + +A smile quivered on Francesco's face, and was gone. + +"I asked for proofs, not questions," he protested wearily. "What shall +it prove if I had a hundred wounds?" + +"Prove?" echoed the Duke, less and less confident of his ground, fearing +already that he had perhaps gone too fast and too far upon the road of +his suspicions. "It proves to me, when coupled with your presence there, +that you were in the fight the night before." + +Francesco stirred at that. He sighed and smiled at once. Then assuming +a tone of brisk command: + +"Bid these men begone," he said, pointing to his guards. "Then hear me +scatter your foul suspicions as the hurricane scatters the leaves in +autumn." + +Gian Maria stared at him in stupefaction. That overwhelming assurance, +that lofty, dignified bearing which made such a noble contrast with his +own coarse hectoring, were gradually undermining more and more his +confidence. With a wave of his hand he motioned the soldiers to +withdraw, obeying almost unconsciously the master-mind of his cousin by +which he was as unconsciously being swayed. + +"Now, Highness," said Francesco, as soon as the men were gone, "before I +refute the charge you make, let me clearly understand it. From the +expressions you have used I gather it to be this: A conspiracy was laid a +little time ago at Sant' Angelo which had for object to supplant you on +the throne of Babbiano and set me in your place. You charge me with +having had in that conspiracy a part--the part assigned to me. It is so, +is it not?" + +Gian Maria nodded. + +"You have put it very clearly," he sneered. "If you can make out your +innocence as clearly, I shall be satisfied that I have wronged you." + +"That this conspiracy took place we will accept as proven, although to +the people of Babbiano the proof may have seemed scant. A man, since +dead, had told your Highness that such a plot was being hatched. Hardly, +perhaps, in itself, evidence enough to warrant setting the heads of four +very valiant gentlemen on spears, but no doubt your Highness had other +proofs to which the rest of us had no access." + +Gian Maria shivered at the words. He recalled what Francesco had said on +the occasion of their last talk upon this very subject; he remembered the +manner of his own reception that day in Babbiano. + +"We must be content that it is so," calmly pursued Francesco. "Indeed, +your Highness's action in the matter leaves no doubt. We will accept, +then, that such a plot was laid, but that I had a part in it, that I was +the man chosen to take your place--need I prove the idleness of such a +charge?" + +"You need, in truth. By God! you need, if you would save your head." + +The Count stood in an easy posture, his hands clasped behind his back, +and smiled up at his cousin's pale face and scowling brow. + +"How mysterious are the ways of your justice, Cousin," he murmured, with +infinite relish; "what a wondrous equity invests your methods! You have +me dragged here by force, and sitting there, you say to me: 'Prove that +you have not conspired against me, or the headsman shall have you!' By +my faith! Soloman was a foolish prattler when compared with you." + +Gian Maria smote the gilded arm of his chair a blow for which he was to +find his hand blackened on the morrow. + +"Prove it!" he screamed, like a child in a pet. "Prove it, prove it, +prove it!" + +"And have my words not already proven it?" quoth the Count, in a voice of +such mild wonder and gentle protest that it left Gian Maria gasping. + +Then the Duke made a hasty gesture of impatience. + +"Messer Alvari," he said, in a voice of concentrated rage, "I think you +had best recall the guard." + +"Wait!" the Count compelled him, raising his hand. And now it was seen +that the easy insouciance was gone from his face: the smile had vanished, +and in its place there was a look of lofty and contemptuous wrath. "I +will repeat my words. You have dragged me here before you by force, and, +sitting there on the throne of Babbiano, you say: 'Prove that you have +not conspired against me if you would save your head.'" A second he +paused, and noted the puzzled look with which all regarded him. + +"Is this a parable?" sneered the uncomprehending Duke. + +"You have said it," flashed back Francesco. "A parable it is. And if +you consider it, does it not afford you proof enough?" he asked, a note +of triumph in his voice. "Do not our relative positions irrefutably show +the baselessness of this your charge? Should I stand here and you sit +there if what you allege against me were true?" He laughed almost +savagely, and his eyes flashed scornfully upon the Duke. "If more +plainly still you need it, Gian Maria, I tell you that had I plotted to +occupy your tottering throne, I should be on it now, not standing here +defending myself against a foolish charge. But can you doubt it? Did +you learn no lesson as you rode into Babbiano to-day? Did you not hear +them acclaim me and groan at you. And yet," he ended, with a lofty pity, +"you tell me that I plotted. Why, if I desired your throne, my only need +would be to unfurl my banner in the streets of your capital, and within +the hour Gian Maria would be Duke no more. Have I proved my innocence, +Highness?" he ended quietly, sadly almost. "Are you convinced how little +is my need for plots?" + +But the Duke had no answer for him. Speechless, and in a sort of dazed +horror, he sat and scowled before him at his cousin's handsome face, what +time the others watched him furtively, in silence, trembling for the +young man who, here, in his grasp, had dared say such things to him. +Presently he covered his face with his hands, and sat so, as one deeply +in thought, a little while. At last he withdrew them slowly and +presented a countenance that passion and chagrin had strangely ravaged in +so little time. He turned to Santi, who stood nearest. + +"The guard," he said hoarsely, with a wave of the hand, and Santi went, +none daring to utter a word. They waited thus an odd group, all very +grave save one, and he the one that had most cause for gravity. Then the +captain re-entered, followed by his two men, and Gian Maria waved a hand +towards the prisoner. + +"Take him away," he muttered harshly, his face ghastly, and passion +shaking him like an aspen. "Take him away, and await my orders in the +ante-chamber." + +"If it is farewell, Cousin," said Francesco, "may I hope that you will +send a priest to me? I have lived a faithful Christian." + +Gian Maria returned him no answer, but his baleful eye was upon Martino. +Reading the significance of that glance, the captain touched Francesco +lightly on the arm. A moment the Count stood, looking from the Duke to +the soldiers; a second his glance rested on those assembled there; then, +with a light raising of his shoulders, he turned on his heel, and with +his head high passed out of the ducal chamber. + +And silence continued after he was gone until Caterina Colonna broke it +with a laugh that grated on Gian Maria's now very tender nerves. + +"You promised bravely," she mocked him, "to play the lion. But so far, +we have only heard the braying of an ass." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +WANDERING KNIGHTS + + +That taunt of his mother's stirred Gian Maria. He rose from his ducal +chair and descended from the dais on which it stood, possessed by a +tempestuous mood that would not brook him to sit still. + +"The braying of an ass?" he muttered, facing Caterina. Then he laughed +unpleasantly. "The jaw-bone of an ass did sore execution on one +occasion, Madonna, and it may again. A little patience, and you shall +see." Next, and with a brisker air, he addressed the four silent +courtiers, "You heard him, sirs," he exclaimed, "How do you say that I +shall deal with such a traitor?" He waited some seconds for an answer, +and it seemed to anger him that none came. "Have you, then, no counsel +for me?" he demanded harshly. + +"I had not thought," said Lodi hardily, "that this was a case in which +your Highness needed counsel. You were drawn to conclude that the Lord +of Aquila was a traitor, but from what we have all heard, your Highness +should now see that he is not." + +"Should I so?" the Duke returned, standing still and fixing upon Fabrizio +an eye that was dull as a snake's. "Messer da Lodi, your loyalty is a +thing that has given signs of wavering of late. Now, if by the grace of +God and His blessed saints I have ruled as a merciful prince who errs too +much upon the side of clemency, I would enjoin you not to try that +clemency too far. I am but a man, after all." + +He turned from the fearless front presented by the old statesman, to face +the troubled glances of the others. + +"Your silence, sirs, tells me that in this matter your judgement runs +parallel with mine. And you are wise, for in such a case there can be +but one course. My cousin has uttered words to-day which no man has ever +said to a prince and lived. Nor shall we make exception to that rule. +My Lord of Aquila's head must pay the price of his temerity." + +"My son," cried Caterina, in a voice of horror. Gian Maria faced her in +a passion, his countenance grown mottled. + +"I have said it," he growled. "I will not sleep until he dies." + +"Yet never may you wake again," she answered. And with that preamble she +launched upon his head the bitterest criticism he had ever heard. By +stinging epithets and contemptuous words, she sought to make him see the +folly of what he meditated. Was he indeed tired of ruling Babbiano? If +that were so, she told him, he had but to wait for Caesar Borgia's +coming. He need not precipitate matters by a deed that must lead to a +revolt, a rising of the people to avenge their idol. + +"You have given me but added reasons," he answered her stoutly. "There +is no room in my Duchy for a man whose death, if it pleased me to +encompass it, would be avenged upon me by my own people." + +"Then send him from your dominions," she urged. "Banish him, and all may +be well. But if you slay him, I should not count your life worth a day's +purchase." + +This advice was sound, and in the end they prevailed upon him to adopt +it. But it was not done save at the cost of endless prayers on the part +of those courtiers, and the persuasions of Caterina's biting scorn and +prophecies of the fate that surely awaited him did he touch the life of +one so wellbeloved. At last, against his will, he sullenly consented +that the banishment of his cousin should content him. But it was with +infinite bitterness and regret that he passed his word, for his jealousy +was of a quality that nothing short of Francesco's death could have +appeased. Certain it is that nothing but the fear of the consequences, +which his mother had instilled into his heart, could have swayed him to +be satisfied that the Count of Aquila should be banished. + +He sent for Martino and bade him return the Count his sword, and he +entrusted the message of exile to Fabrizio da Lodi, charging him to +apprise Francesco that he was allowed twenty-four hours' grace in which +to take himself beyond the dominions of Gian Maria Sforza. + +That done--and with an exceedingly ill grace--the Duke turned on his +heel, and with a sullen brow he left the ducal chamber, and passed, +unattended, to his own apartments. + +Rejoicing, Fabrizio da Lodi went his errand, which he discharged with +certain additions that might have cost him his head had knowledge of them +come to Gian Maria. In fact, he seized the opportunity to again press +upon Francesco the throne of Babbiano. + +"The hour is very ripe," he urged the Count, "and the people love you as +surely prince was never loved. It is in their interests that I plead. +You are their only hope. Will you not come to them?" + +If for a moment Francesco hesitated, it was rather in consideration of +the manner in which the crown was offered than in consequence of any +allurement that the offer may have had for him. Once--that night at +Sant' Angelo--he had known temptation, and for a moment had listened to +the seductions in the voice that invited him to power. But not so now. +A thought he gave to the people who had such faith in him, and showered +upon him such admiring love, and whom, as a matter of reciprocity, he +wished well, and would have served in any capacity but this. He shook +his head, and with a smile of regret declined the offer. + +"Have patience, old friend," he added. "I am not of the stuff that goes +to make good princes, although you think it. It is a bondage into which +I would not sell myself. A man's life for me, Fabrizio--a free life that +is not directed by councillors and at the mercy of the rabble." + +Fabrizio's face grew sad. He sighed profoundly, yet since it might not +be well for him that he should remain over-long in talk with one who, in +the Duke's eyes, was attainted with treason, he had not leisure to insist +with persuasions, which, after all, he clearly saw must in the end prove +barren. + +"What was the salvation of the people of Babbiano," he murmured, "was +also your Excellency's, since did you adopt the course I urge there would +be no need to go in banishment." + +"Why, this exile suits me excellently well," returned Francesco. "Idle +have I been over-long, and the wish to roam is in my veins again. I'll +see the world once more, and when I weary of my vagrancy I can withdraw +to my lands of Aquila, and in that corner of Tuscany, too mean to draw a +conqueror's eye, none will molest me, and I shall rest. Babbiano, my +friend, shall know me no more after to-night. When I am gone, and the +people realise that they may not have what they would, they may rest +content perhaps with what they may." And he waved a hand in the +direction of the doors leading to the ducal chamber. With that he took +his leave of his old friend, and, carrying in his hand the sword and +dagger which Captain Armstadt had returned to him, he repaired briskly to +the northern wing of the Palace, in which he had his lodging. + +In the ante-room he dismissed those of his servants who had been taken +from the ranks of the Duke's people, and bade his own Tuscan followers, +Zaccaria and Lanciotto, see to the packing of his effects, and make all +ready to set out within the hour. + +He was no coward, but he had no wish to die just yet if it might be +honourably avoided. Life had some sweets to offer Francesco del Falco, +and this spurred him to hasten, for he well knew his cousin's +unscrupulous ways. He was aware that Gian Maria had been forced by +weight of argument to let him go, and he shrewdly feared that did he +linger, his cousin might veer round again, and without pausing to seek +advice a second time, have him disposed of out of hand and reckless of +consequences. + +Whilst Lanciotto was left busy in the ante-room the Count passed into his +bedchamber attended by Zaccaria, to make in his raiment such changes as +were expedient. But scarce had he begun when he was interrupted by the +arrival of Fanfulla degli Arcipreti, whom Lanciotto ushered in. +Francesco's face lighted at sight of his friend, and he held out his +hand. + +"What is it that has happened?" cried the young gallant, adding that +which showed his question to be unnecessary, for from Fabrizio da Lodi he +had had the whole story of what was befallen. He sat himself upon the +bed, and utterly disregarding the presence of Zaccaria--whom he knew to +be faithful--he attempted to persuade the Count where Fabrizio had +failed. But Paolo cut him short ere he had gone very far. + +"Have done with that," he said, and for all that he said it with a laugh, +determination sounded sturdy in his accents. "I am a knight-errant, not +a prince, and I'll not be converted from one to the other. It were +making a helot of a free man, and you do not love me, Fanfulla, if you +drive this argument further. Do you think me sad, cast down, at the +prospect of this banishment? Why, boy, the blood runs swifter through my +veins since I heard the sentence. It frees me from Babbiano in an hour +when perhaps my duty--the reciprocation of the people's love--might +otherwise have held me here, and it gives me liberty to go forth, my good +Fanfulla, in quest of such adventure as I chose to follow." He threw out +his arms, and displayed his splendid teeth in a hearty laugh. + +Fanfulla eyed him, infected by the boisterous gladness of his mood. + +"Why, true indeed, my lord," he acknowledged, "you are too fine a bird to +sing in a cage. But to go knight-erranting----" He paused, and spread +his hands in protest. "There are no longer dragons holding princesses +captive." + +"Alas no. But the Venetians are on the eve of war, and they will find +work for these hands of mine. I want not for friends among them." + +Fanfulla sighed. + +"And so we lose you. The stoutest arm in Babbiano leaves us in the hour +of need, driven out by that loutish Duke. By my soul, Ser Francesco, I +would I might go with you. Here is nothing to be done." + +Francesco paused in the act of drawing on a boot, and raised his eyes to +stare a moment at his friend. + +"But if you wish it, Fanfulla, I shall rejoice to have your company." + +And now the idea of it entered Fanfulla's mind in earnest, for his +expression had been more or less an idle one. But since Francesco +invited him, why not indeed? + +And thus it came to pass that at the third hour of that warm May night a +party of four men on horseback and two sumpter mules passed out of +Babbiano and took the road that leads to Vinamare, and thence into the +territory of Urbino. These riders were the Count of Aquila and Fanfulla +degli Arcipreti, followed by Lanciotto leading a mule that bore the arms +of those knights-errant, and Zaccaria leading another with their general +baggage. + +All night they rode beneath the stars, and on until some three hours +after sunrise, when they made halt in a hollow of the hills not far from +Fabriano. They tethered their horses in a grove of peaceful laurel and +sheltering mulberry, at the foot of a slope that was set with olive +trees, grey, gnarled and bent as aged cripples, and beside the river +Esino at a spot where it was so narrow that an agile man might leap its +width. Here, then, they spread their cloaks, and Zaccaria unpacked his +victuals, and set before them a simple meal of bread and wine and roasted +fowl, which to their hunger made more appeal than a banquet at another +season. And when they had eaten they laid them down beside the stream, +and there beguiled in pleasant talk the time until they fell asleep. +They rested them through the heat of the day, and waking some three hours +after noon, the Count rose up and went some dozen paces down the stream +to a spot where it fell into a tiny lake--a pool deep and blue as the +cloudless heavens which it mirrored. Here he stripped off his garments +and plunged headlong in, to emerge again, some moments later, refreshed +and reinvigorated in body and in soul. + +As Fanfulla awoke he beheld an apparition coming towards him, a figure +lithe and stalwart as a sylvian god, the water shining on the ivory +whiteness of his skin and glistening in his sable hair as the sunlight +caught it. + +"Tell me now, Fanfulla, lives there a man of so depraved a mind that he +would prefer a ducal crown to this?" + +And the courtier, seeing Francesco's radiant mien, understood perhaps, at +last, how sordid was the ambition that could lure a man from such a god- +like freedom, and from the holy all-consuming joys it brought him. His +thoughts being started upon that course, it was of this they talked what +time the Count resumed his garments--his hose of red, his knee-high boots +of untanned leather, and his quilted brigandine of plain brown cloth, +reputed dagger-proof. He rose at last to buckle on his belt of hammered +steel, from which there hung, behind his loins, a stout, lengthy dagger, +the only weapon that he carried. + +At his command the horses were saddled and the sumpters laden once more. +Lanciotto held his stirrup, and Zaccaria did like service for Fanfulla, +and presently they were cantering out of that fragrant grove on to the +elastic sward of broad, green pasture-lands. They crossed the stream at +a spot where the widened sheet of water scarce went higher than their +horses' hocks; then veering to the east they rode away from the hills for +a half-league or so until they gained a road. Here they turned northward +again, and pushed on towards Cagli. + +As the bells were ringing the Ave Maria the cavalcade drew up before the +Palazzo Valdicampo, where two nights ago Gian Maria had been entertained. +Its gates were now as readily thrown wide to welcome the illustrious and +glorious Count of Aquila, who was esteemed by Messer Valdicampo no less +than his more puissant cousin. Chambers were set at his disposal, and at +Fanfulla's; servants were bidden to wait upon them; fresh raiment was +laid out for them, and a noble supper was prepared to do honour to +Francesco. Nor did the generous Valdicampo's manner cool when he learned +that Francesco was in disgrace at the Court of Babbiano and banished from +the dominions of Duke Gian Maria. He expressed sympathetic regret at so +untoward a circumstance and discreetly refrained from passing any opinion +thereupon. + +Yet later, as they supped, and when perhaps the choice wines had somewhat +relaxed his discretion, he permitted himself to speak of Gian Maria's +ways in terms that were very far from laudatory. + +"Here, in my house," he informed them, "he committed an outrage upon a +poor unfortunate, for which an account may yet be asked of me--since it +was under my roof that the thing befell, for all that I knew nothing of +it." + +Upon being pressed by Paolo to tell them more, he parted with the +information that the unfortunate in question was Urbino's jester Peppe. +At that, Paolo's glance became more intent. The memory of his meeting +with the fool and his mistress in the woods, a month ago, flashed now +across his mind, and it came to him that he could rightly guess the +source whence his cousin had drawn the information that had led to his +own arrest and banishment. + +"Of what nature was the outrage?" he inquired. + +"From what Peppe himself has told me it would seem that the fool was +possessed of some knowledge which Gian Maria sought, but on which Peppe +was bound by oath to silence. Gian Maria caused him to be secretly taken +and carried off from Urbino. His sbirri brought the fellow here, and to +make him speak the Duke improvised in his bedchamber a tratta di corde, +which had the desired result." + +The Count's face grew dark with anger. "The coward!" he muttered. "The +dastardly craven!" + +"But bethink you, sir Count," exclaimed Valdicampo, "that this poor Peppe +is a frail and deformed creature, lacking the strength of an ordinary +man, and do not judge him over-harshly." + +"It was not of him I spoke," replied Francesco, "but of my cousin, that +cowardly tyrant, Gian Maria Sforza. Tell me, Messer Valdicampo--what has +become of Ser Peppe?" + +"He is still here. I have had him tended, and his condition is already +much improved. It will not be long ere he is recovered, but for a few +days yet his arms will remain almost useless. They were all but torn +from his body." + +When the meal was done Francesco begged his host to conduct him to +Peppe's chamber. This Valdicampo did, and leaving Fanfulla in the +company of the ladies of his house, he escorted the Count to the room +where the poor, ill-used hunchback was abed tended by one of the women of +Valdicampo's household. + +"Here is a visitor to see you, Ser Peppe," the old gentleman announced, +setting down his candle on a table by the bed. The jester turned his +great head towards the newcomer's, and sought with melancoly eyes the +face of his visitor. At sight of him a look of terror spread itself upon +his countenance. + +"My lord," he cried, struggling into a sitting posture, "my noble, +gracious lord, have mercy on me. I could tear out this craven tongue of +mine. But did you know what agonies I suffered, and to what a torture +they submitted me to render me unfaithful, it may be that you, yourself, +would pity me." + +"Why, that I do," answered Francesco gently. "Indeed, could I have seen +the consequences that oath would have for you, I had not bound you by +it." + +The fear in Peppe's face gave place to unbelief. + +"And you forgive me, lord?" he cried. "I dreaded when you entered that +you were come to punish me for what wrong I may have done you in +speaking. But if you forgive me, it may be that Heaven will forgive me +also, and that I may not be damned. And that were a thousand pities, for +what, my lord, should I do in hell?" + +"Deride the agonies of Gian Maria," answered Francesco, with a laugh. + +"It were almost worth burning for," mused Peppe, putting forth a hand, +whose lacerated, swollen wrist bore evidence to the torture he had +suffered. At sight of it the Count made an exclamation of angry horror, +and hastened to inquire into the poor fool's condition. + +"It is not so bad now," Peppe answered him, "and it is only in +consequence of Messer Valdicampo's insistence that I have kept my bed. I +can scarce use my arms, it is true, but they are improving. To-morrow I +shall be up, and I hope to set out for Urbino, where my dear mistress +must be distressed with fears for my absence, for she is a very kind and +tenderhearted lady." + +This resolve of Peppe's prompted the Count to offer to conduct him to +Urbino on the morrow, since he, himself, would be journeying that way--an +offer which the fool accepted without hesitation and with lively +gratitude. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE FOOL'S INQUISITIVENESS + + +In the morning Francesco set out once more, accompanied by his servants, +Fanfulla, and the fool. The latter was now so far restored as to be able +to sit a mule, but lest the riding should over-tire him they proceeded at +little more than an ambling pace along the lovely valleys of the Metauro. +Thus it befell that when night descended it found them still journeying, +and some two leagues distant from Urbino. Another league they travelled +in the moonlight, and the fool was beguiling the time for them with a +droll story culled from the bright pages of Messer Boccaccio, when of a +sudden his sharp ears caught a sound that struck him dumb in the middle +of a sentence. + +"Are you faint?" asked Francesco, turning quickly towards him, and +mindful of the fellow's sore condition. + +"No, no," answered the fool, with a readiness that dispelled the Count's +alarm on that score. "I thought I heard a sound of marching in the +distance." + +"The wind in the trees, Peppino," explained Fanfulla. + +"I do not think----" He stopped short and listened and now they all +heard it, for it came wafted to them on a gust of the fitful breeze that +smote their faces. + +"You are right," said Francesco. "It is the tramp of men. But what of +that, Peppe? Men will march in Italy. Let us hear the end of your +story." + +"But who should march in Urbino, and by night?" the fool persisted. + +"Do I know or do I care?" quoth the Count. "Your story, man." + +For all that he was far from satisfied, the fool resumed his narrative. +But he no longer told it with his former irresistible humour. His mind +was occupied with that sound of marching, which came steadily nearer. At +length he could endure it no longer, and the apathy of his companions +fired him openly to rebel. + +"My lord," he cried, turning to the Count, and again leaving his story +interrupted, "they are all but upon us." + +"True!" agreed Francesco indifferently. "The next turn yonder should +bring us into them." + +"Then I beg you, Lord Count, to step aside. Let us pause here, under the +trees, until they have passed. I am full of fears. Perhaps I am a +coward, but I mislike these roving night-hands. It may be a company of +masnadieri." + +"What then?" returned the Count, without slackening speed. "What cause +have we to fear a party of robbers?" + +But Fanfulla and the servants joined their advice to Peppe's, and +prevailed at last upon Francesco to take cover until this company should +have passed. He consented, to pacify them, and wheeling to the right +they entered the border of the forest, drawing rein well in the shadow, +whence they could survey the road and see who passed across the patch of +moonlight that illumined it. And presently the company came along and +swung into that revealing flood of light. To the astonishment of the +watchers they beheld no marauding party such as they had been led to +expect, but a very orderly company of some twenty men, soberly arrayed in +leather hacketons and salades of bright steel, marching sword on thigh +and pike on shoulder. At the head of this company rode a powerfully- +built man on a great sorrel horse, at sight of whom the fool swore softly +in astonishment. In the middle of the party came four litters borne by +mules, and at the side of one of them rode a slender, graceful figure +that provoked from Peppe a second oath. But the profoundest objurgation +of all was wrung from him at sight of a portly bulk in the black habit of +the Dominicans ambling in the rear, who just then was in angry +altercation with a fellow that was urging his mule along with the butt of +his partisan. + +"May you be roasted on a gridiron like Saint Lawrence," gasped the irate +priest. "Would you break my neck, brute beast that you are? Do you but +wait until we reach Roccaleone, and by St. Dominic, I'll get your +ruffianly commander to hang you for this ill-seasoned jest." + +But his tormentor laughed for answer, and smote the mule again, a blow +this time that almost caused it to rear up. The friar cried out in angry +alarm, and then, still storming and threatening his persecutor, he passed +on. After him came six heavily-laden carts, each drawn by a pair of +bullocks, and the rear of the procession was brought up by a flock of a +dozen bleating sheep, herded by a blasphemant man-at-arms. They passed +the astonished watchers, who remained concealed until that odd company +had melted away into the night. + +"I could swear," said Fanfulla, "that that friar and I have met before." + +"Nor would you do a perjury," answered him the fool. "For it is that fat +hog Fra Domenico--he that went with you to the Convent of Acquasparta to +fetch unguents for his Excellency." + +"What does he in that company, and who are they?" asked the Count, +turning to the fool as they rode out of their ambush. + +"Ask me where the devil keeps his lures," quoth the fool, "and I'll make +some shift to answer you. But as for what does Fra Domenico in that +galley, it is more than I can hazard a guess on. He is not the only one +known to me," Peppino added, "There was Ercole Fortemani, a great, dirty, +blustering ruffian whom I never saw in aught but rags, riding at their +heads in garments of most unwonted wholeness; and there was Romeo +Gonzaga, whom I never knew to stir by night save to an assignation. +Strange things must be happening in Urbino." + +"And the litters?" inquired Francesco, "Can you hazard no guess as to +their meaning?" + +"None," said he, "saving that they may account for the presence of Messer +Gonzaga. For litters argue women." + +"It seems, fool, that not even your wisdom shall avail us. But you heard +the friar say they were bound for Roccaleone?" + +"Yes, I heard that. And by means of it we shall probably learn the rest +at the end of our journey." + +And being a man of extremely inquisitive mind, the fool set his inquiries +on foot the moment they entered the gates of Urbino in the morning--for +they had reached the city over-late to gain admittance that same night, +and were forced to seek shelter in one of the houses by the river. It +was of the Captain of the Gate that he sought information. + +"Can you tell me, Ser Capitan," he inquired, "what company was that that +travelled yesternight to Roccaleone?" + +The captain looked at him a moment. + +"There was none that I know of," said he, "Certainly none from Urbino." + +"You keep a marvellous watch," said the fool drily. "I tell you that a +company of men-at-arms some twenty strong went last night from Urbino to +Roccaleone." + +"To Roccaleone?" echoed the captain, with a musing air, more attentively +than before, as if the repetition of that name had suggested something to +his mind. "Why, it is the castle of Monna Valentina." + +"True, sapient sir. But what of the company, and why was it travelling +so, by night?" + +"How know you it proceeded from Urbino?" quoth the captain earnestly. + +"Because at its head I recognised the roaring warrior Ercole Fortemani, +in the middle rode Romeo Gonzaga, in the rear came Fra Domenico, +Madonna's confessor--men of Urbino all." + +The officer's face grew purple at the news. + +"Were there any women in the party?" he cried. + +"I saw none," replied the fool, in whom this sudden eagerness of the +captain's awakened caution and reflection. + +"But there were four litters," put in Francesco, whose nature was less +suspicious and alert than the wise fool's. + +Too late Peppe scowled caution at him. The captain swore a great oath. + +"It is she," he cried, with assurance. "And this company was travelling +to Roccaleone, you say. How know you that?" + +"We heard it from the friar," answered Francesco readily. + +"Then, by the Virgin! we have them. Olá!" He turned from them, and ran +shouting into the gatehouse, to re-emerge a moment later with half-dozen +soldiers at his heels. + +"To the Palace," he commanded, and as his men surrounded Francesco's +party, "Come, sir," he said to the Count. "You must go with us, and tell +your story to the Duke." + +"There is no need for all this force," answered Francesco coldly. "In +any case, I could not pass through Urbino without seeing Duke Guidobaldo. +I am the Count of Aquila." + +At once the captain's bearing grew respectful. He made his apologies for +the violent measures of his zeal, and bade his men fall behind. Ordering +them to follow him, he mounted a horse that was brought him, and rode +briskly through the borgo at the Count's side. And as he rode he told +them what the jester's quick intuition had already whispered to him. The +lady Valentina was fled from Urbino in the night, and in her company were +gone three of her ladies, and--it was also supposed, since they had +disappeared--Fra Domenico and Romeo Gonzaga. + +Aghast at what he heard, Francesco pressed his informer for more news; +but there was little more that the captain could tell him, beyond the +fact that it was believed she had been driven to it to escape her +impending marriage with the Duke of Babbiano. Guidobaldo was distraught +at what had happened, and anxious to bring the lady back before news of +her behaviour should reach the ears of Gian Maria. It was, therefore, a +matter of no little satisfaction to the captain that the task should be +his to bear Guidobaldo this news of her whereabouts which from Francesco +and the jester he had derived. + +Peppe looked glum and sullen. Had he but bridled his cursed curiosity, +and had the Count but taken the alarm in time and held his peace, all +might have been well with his beloved patrona. As it was, he--the one +man ready to die that he might serve her--had been the very one to betray +her refuge. He heard the Count's laugh, and the sound of it was fuel to +his anger. But Francesco only thought of the splendid daring of the +lady's action. + +"But these men-at-arms that she had with her?" he cried. "For what +purpose so numerous a bodyguard?" + +The captain looked at him a moment. + +"Can you not guess?" he inquired. "Perhaps you do not know the Castle of +Roccaleone." + +"It were odd if I did not know the most impregnable fortress in Italy." + +"Why, then, does it not become clear? She has taken this company for a +garrison, and in Roccaleone she clearly intends to resist in rebel +fashion the wishes of his Highness." + +At that the Count threw back his head, and scared the passers-by with as +hearty a peal of laughter as ever crossed his lips. + +"By the Host!" he gasped, laughter still choking his utterance. "There +is a maid for you! Do you hear what the captain says, Fanfulla? She +means to resist this wedding by armed force if needs be. Now, on my +soul, if Guidobaldo insists upon the union after this, why, then, he has +no heart, no feeling. As I live, she is a kinswoman that such a warlike +prince might well be proud of. Small wonder that they do not fear the +Borgia in Urbino." And he laughed again. But the captain scowled at +him, and Peppe frowned. + +"She is a rebellious jade," quoth the captain sourly. + +"Nay, softly," returned Francesco; for all that he still laughed. "If +you were of knightly rank I'd break a lance with you on that score. As +it is----" he paused, his laughter ceased, and his dark eyes took the +captain's measure in a curious way. "Best leave her uncensured, Ser +Capitano. She is of the house of Rovere, and closely allied to that of +Montefeltro." + +The officer felt the rebuke, and silence reigned between them after that. + +It was whilst Francesco, Fanfulla and Peppe waited in the ante-chamber +for admittance to the Duke that the jester vented some of the bitterness +he felt at their babbling. The splendid room was thronged with a courtly +crowd. There were magnificent nobles and envoys, dark ecclesiastics and +purple prelates, captains in steel and court officers in silk and velvet. +Yet, heedless of who might hear him, Peppe voiced his rebuke, and the +terms he employed were neither as measured nor as respectful as the +Count's rank dictated. Yet with that fairness of mind that made him so +universally beloved, Francesco offered no resentment to the fool's +reproof. He saw that it was deserved, for it threw upon the matter a +light that was new and more searching. But he presently saw further than +did the fool, and he smiled at the other's scowls. + +"Not so loud Peppe," said he. "You over-estimate the harm. At worst, we +have but anticipated by a little what the Duke must have learnt from +other sources." + +"But it is just that little--the few hours or days--that will do the +mischief," snapped the jester testily, for all that he lowered his voice. +"In a few days Gian Maria will be back. If he were met with the news +that the Lady Valentina were missing, that she had run away with Romeo +Gonzaga--for that, you'll see, will presently be the tale--do you think +he would linger here, or further care to pursue his wooing? Not he. +These alliances that are for State purposes alone, in which the heart +plays no part, demand, at least, that on the lady's side there shall be a +record unblemished by the breath of scandal. His Highness would have +returned him home, and Madonna would have been rid of him." + +"But at a strange price, Peppe," answered Franeesco gravely. "Still," he +added, "I agree that I would have served her purpose better by keeping +silent. But that such an affair will cool the ardour of my cousin I do +not think. You are wrong in placing this among the alliances in which +the heart has no part. On my cousin's side--if all they say be true--the +heart plays a very considerable part indeed. But, for the rest--what +harm have we done?" + +"Time will show," said the hunchback. + +"It will show, then, that I have done no hurt whatever to her interests. +By now she is safe in Roccaleone. What, then, can befall her? +Guidobaldo, no doubt, will repair to her, and across the moat he will +entreat her to be a dutiful niece and to return. She will offer to do so +on condition that he pass her his princely word not to further molest her +with the matter of this marriage. And then?" + +"Well?" growled the fool, "And then? Who shall say what may befall then? +Let us say that his Highness reduces her by force." + +"A siege?" laughed the Count. "Pooh! Where is your wisdom, fool! Do +you think the splendid Guidobaldo is eager to become the sport of Italy, +and go down to posterity as the duke who besieged his niece because she +resisted his ordainings touching the matter of her wedding?" + +"Guidobaldo da Montefeltro can be a violent man upon occasion," the fool +was answering, when the officer who had left them reappeared with the +announcement that his Highness awaited them. + +They found the Prince in a very gloomy mood, and after greeting Francesco +with cool ceremony, he questioned him on the matter of the company they +had met yesternight. These inquiries he conducted with characteristic +dignity, and no more show of concern than if it had been an affair of a +strayed falcon. He thanked Francesco for his information, and gave +orders that the seneschal should place apartments at his and Fanfulla's +disposal for as long as it should please them to grace his court. With +that he dismissed them, bidding the officer remain to receive his orders. + +"And that," said Francesco to Peppe, as they crossed the ante-chamber in +the wake of a servant, "is the man who would lay siege to his niece's +castle? For once, sir fool, your wisdom is at fault." + +"You do not know the Duke, Excellency," answered the fool. "Beneath that +frozen exterior burns a furnace, and there is no madness he would not +commit." + +But Francesco only laughed as, linking arms with Fanfulla, he passed down +the gallery on his way to the apartments to which the servant was +conducting them. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +GIAN MARIA MAKES A VOW + + +In a measure the events that followed would almost tend to show that the +fool was right. For even if the notion of besieging Valentina and +reducing her by force of arms was not Guidobaldo's own in the first +place, yet he lent a very willing ear to the counsel that they should +thus proceed, when angrily urged two days thereafter by the Duke of +Babbiano. + +Upon hearing the news Gian Maria had abandoned himself to such a licence +of rage as made those about him tremble from the highest to the meanest. +The disappointment of his passion was in itself justification enough for +this; but, in addition, Gian Maria beheld in the flight of Valentina the +frustration of those bold schemes of which had talked so loudly to his +councillors and his mother. It was his confidence in those same schemes +that had induced him to send that defiant answer to Caesar Borgia. As a +consequence of this there was haste--most desperate haste--that he should +wed, since wedding was to lend him the power to carry out his brave +promises of protecting his crown from the Duke of Valentinois, not to +speak of the utter routing of the Borgia which he had wildly undertaken +to accomplish. + +That the destinies of States should be tossed to the winds of Heaven by a +slip of a girl was to him something as insufferable as it had been +unexpected. + +"She must be brought back!" he had screeched, in his towering passion. +"She must be brought back at once." + +"True!" answered Guidobaldo, in his serene way; "she must be brought +back. So far, I agree with you entirely. Tell me, now, how the thing is +to be accomplished." And there was sarcasm in his voice. + +"What difficulties does it present?" inquired Gian Maria. + +"No difficulties," was the ironical reply. "She has shut herself up in +the stoutest castle in Italy, and tells me that she will not come forth +until I promise her freedom of choice in the matter of marriage. +Clearly, there are no difficulties attached to her being brought back." + +Gian Maria showed his teeth. + +"Do you give me leave to go about it in my own way?" he asked. + +"Not only do I give you leave, but I'll render you all the assistance in +my power, if you can devise a means for luring her from Roccaleone." + +"I hesitate no longer. Your niece, Lord Duke, is a rebel, and as a rebel +is she to be treated. She has garrisoned a castle, and hurled defiance +at the ruler of the land. It is a declaration of war, Highness, and war +we shall have." + +"You would resort to force?" asked Guidobaldo, disapproval lurking in his +voice. + +"To the force of arms, your Highness," answered Gian Maria, with prompt +fierceness. "I will lay siege to this castle of hers, and I shall tear +it stone from stone. Oh, I would have wooed her nicely had she let me, +with gentle words and mincing ways that maidens love. But since she +defies us, I'll woo her with arquebuse and cannon, and seek by starvation +to make her surrender to my suit. My love shall put on armour to subject +her, and I vow to God that I shall not shave my beard until I am inside +her castle." + +Guidobaldo looked grave. + +"I should counsel gentler measures," said he. "Besiege her if you will, +but do not resort to too much violence. Cut off their resources and let +hunger be your advocate. Even so, I fear me, you will be laughed at by +all Italy," he added bluntly. + +"A fig for that! Let the fools laugh if they be minded to. What forces +has she at Roccaleone?" + +At the question Guidobaldo's brow grew dark. It was as if he had +recalled some circumstance that had lain forgotten. + +"Some twenty knaves led by a notorious ruffian of the name of Fortemani. +The company was enrolled, they tell me, by a gentleman of my court, a +kinsman of my Duchess, Messer Romeo Gonzaga." + +"Is he with her now?" gasped Gian Maria. + +"It would seem he is." + +"By the Virgin's Ring of Perugia!" spluttered Gian Maria in increased +dismay. "Do you suggest that they fled together?" + +"My lord!" Guidobaldo's voice rang sharp and threatening. "It is of my +niece that you are speaking. She took this gentleman with her just as +she took three of her ladies and a page or two, to form such attendance +as befits her birth." + +Gian Maria took a turn in the apartment, a frown wrinkling his brow, and +his lips pressed tight. Guidobaldo's proud words by no means convinced +him. But the one preponderating desire in his heart just then was to +humble the girl who had dared to flout him, to make her bend her stubborn +neck. At last: + +"I may indeed become the laughing-stock of Italy," he muttered, in a +concentrated voice, "but I shall carry my resolve through, and my first +act upon entering Roccaleone will be to hang this knave Gonzaga from its +highest turret." + +That very day Gian Maria began his preparations for the expedition +against Roccaleone, and word of it was carried by Fanfulla to Francesco-- +for the latter had left his quarters at the palace upon hearing of Gian +Maria's coming, and was now lodging at the sign of the "Sun." + +Upon hearing the news he swore a mighty oath in which he consigned his +cousin to the devil, by whom, in that moment, he pronounced him begotten. + +"Do you think," he asked, when he was calmer, "that this man Gonzaga is +her lover?" + +"It is more than I can say," answered Fanfulla. "There is the fact that +she fled with him. Though when I questioned Peppe on this same subject +he first laughed the notion to scorn, and then grew grave. 'She loves +him not, the popinjay,' he said; 'but he loves her, or I am blind else, +and he's a villain, I know.'" + +Francesco stood up, his face mighty serious, and his dark eyes full of +uneasy thought. + +"By the Host! It is a shameful thing," he cried out at last. "This poor +lady so beset on every hand by a parcel of villains, each more +unscrupulous than the other. Fanfulla, send for Peppe. We must despatch +the fool to her with warning of Gian Maria's coming, and warning, too, +against this man of Mantua she has fled with." + +"Too late," answered Fanfulla. "The fool departed this morning for +Roccaleone, to join his patrona." + +Francesco looked his dismay. + +"She will be undone," he groaned. "Thus between the upper and the nether +stone--between Gian Maria and Romeo Gonzaga. Gesů! she will be undone! +And she so brave and so high-spirited!" + +He moved slowly to the casement, and stood staring at the windows across +the street, on which the setting sun fell in a ruddy glow. But it was +not the windows that he saw. It was a scene in the woods at Acquasparta +on that morning after the mountain fight; a man lying wounded in the +bracken, and over him a gentle lady bending with eyes of pity and +solicitude. Often since had his thoughts revisited that scene, sometimes +with a smile, sometimes with a sigh, and sometimes with both at once. + +He turned suddenly upon Fanfulla. "I will go myself," he announced. + +"You?" echoed Fanfulla. "But the Venetians?" + +By a gesture the Count signified how little the Venetians weighed with +him when compared with the fortunes of this lady. + +"I am going to Roccaleone," he insisted, "now--at once." And striding to +the door he beat his hands together and called Lanciotto. + +"You said, Fanfulla, that in these days there are no longer maidens held +in bondage to whom a knight-errant may lend aid. You were at fault, for +in Monna Valentina we have the captive maiden, in my cousin the dragon, +in Gonzaga another, and in me the errant knight who is destined--I hope-- +to save her." + +"You will save her from Gian Maria?" questioned Fanfulla incredulously. + +"I will attempt it." + +He turned to his servant, who entered as he spoke. + +"We set out in a quarter of an hour, Lanciotto," said he. "Saddle for me +and for yourself. You are to go with me. Zaccaria may remain with +Messer degli Arcipreti. You will care for him, Fanfulla, and he will +serve you well." + +"But what of me?" cried Fanfulla. "Do I not accompany you?" + +"If you will, yes. But you might serve me better by returning to +Babbiano and watching the events there, sending me word of what befalls-- +for great things will befall soon if my cousin returns not and the Borga +advances. It is upon this that I am founding such hopes as I have." + +"But whither shall I send you word? To Roccaleone?" + +Francesco reflected a moment. "If you do not hear from me, then send +your news to Roccaleone, for if I should linger there and we are +besieged, it will perhaps be impossible to send a message to you. But +if--as I hope--I go to Aquila, I will send you word of it." + +"To Aquila?" + +"Yes. It may be that I shall be at Aquila before the week is out. But +keep it secret, Fanfulla, and I'll fool these dukes to the very top of +their unhealthy bent." + +A half-hour later the Count of Aquila, mounted on a stout Calabrian +horse, and attended by Lanciotto on a mule, rode gently down towards the +valley. They went unnoticed, for what cared for them the peasants that +sang at their labours in the contado? + +They met a merchant, whose servant was urging his laden sumpters up the +hilly road to the city on the heights, and they passed him with a +courteous greeting. Farther they came upon a mounted company of nobles +and ladies, returning from a hawking party, and followed by attendants +bearing their hooded falcons, and their gay laughter still rang in +Francesco's ears after he had passed from their sight and vanished in the +purple mists of eventide that came up to meet him from the river. + +They turned westward towards the Apennines, and pushed on after night had +fallen, until the fourth hour, when at Francesco's suggestion they drew +rein before a sleepy, wayside locanda, and awoke the host to demand +shelter. There they slept no longer than until matins, so that the grey +light of dawn saw them once more upon their way, and by the time the sun +had struck with its first golden shaft the grey crest of the old hills, +they drew rein on the brink of the roaring torrent at the foot of the +mighty crag that was crowned by the Castle of Roccaleone. + +Grim and gaunt it loomed above the fertile vale, with that torrent +circling it in a natural moat, like a giant sentinel of the Apennines +that were its background. And now the sunlight raced down the slopes of +the old mountains like a tide. It smote the square tower of the keep, +then flowed adown the wall, setting the old grey stone a-gleaming, and +flashing back from a mullioned window placed high up. Lower it came, +revealing grotesque gargoyles, flooding the crenellated battlements and +turning green the ivy and lichen that but a moment back had blackened the +stout, projecting buttresses. Thence it leapt to the ground, and drove +the shadow before it down the grassy slope, until it reached the stream +and sparkled on its foaming, tumbling waters, scattering a hundred +colours through the flying spray. + +And all that time, until the sun had reached him and included him in the +picture it was awakening, the Count of Aquila sat in his saddle, with +thoughtful eyes uplifted to the fortress. + +Then, Lanciotto following him, he walked his horse round the western +side, where the torrent was replaced by a smooth arm of water, for which +a cutting had been made to complete the isolation of the crag of +Roccaleone. But here, where the castle might more easily have become +vulnerable, a blank wall greeted him, broken by no more than a narrow +slit or two midway below the battlements. He rode on towards the +northern side, crossing a footbridge that spanned the river, and at last +coming to a halt before the entrance tower. Here again the moat was +formed by the torrential waters of the mountain stream. + +He bade his servant rouse the inmates, and Lanciotto hallooed in a voice +that nature had made deep and powerful. The echo of it went booming up +to scare the birds on the hillside, but evoked no answer from the silent +castle. + +"They keep a zealous watch," laughed the Count. "Again, Lanciotto." + +The man obeyed him, and again and again his deep voice rang out like a +trumpet-call before sign was made from within that it had been heard. At +length, above the parapet of the tower appeared a stunted figure with +head unkempt, as grotesque almost as any of the gargoyles beneath, and an +owlish face peered at them from one of the crenels of the battlement, and +demanded, in surly, croaking tones their business. Instantly the Count +recognised Peppe. + +"Good morrow, fool," he bade him. + +"You, my lord?" exclaimed the jester. + +"You sleep soundly at Roccaleone," quoth Francesco. "Bestir that knavish +garrison of yours, and bid the lazy dogs let down the bridge. I have +news for Monna Valentina." + +"At once, Excellency," the fool replied, and would have gone upon the +instant but that Francesco recalled him. + +"Say, Peppe, a knight--the knight she met at Acquasparta, if you will. +But leave my name unspoken." + +With the assurance that he would obey his wishes Peppe went his errand. +A slight delay ensued, and then upon the battlements appeared Gonzaga, +sleepy and contentious, attended by a couple of Fortemani's knaves, who +came to ask the nature of Francesco's business. + +"It is with Monna Valentina," answered him Francesco, raising head and +voice, so that Gonzaga recognised him for the wounded knight of +Acquasparta, remembered and scowled. + +"I am Monna Valentina's captain here," he announced, with arrogance. +"And you may deliver to me such messages as you bear." + +There followed a contention, conducted ill-humouredly on the part of +Gonzaga and scarcely less so on the Count's, Francesco stoutly refusing +to communicate his business to any but Valentina, and Gonzaga as stoutly +refusing to disturb the lady at that hour, or to lower the bridge. Words +flew between them across the waters of the moat, and grew hotter at each +fresh exchange, till in the end they were abruptly terminated by the +appearance of Valentina herself, attended by Peppino. + +"What is this, Gonzaga?" she inquired, her manner excited, for the fool +had told her that it was the knight Francesco who sought admittance, and +at the very mention of the name she had flushed, then paled, then started +for the ramparts. "Why is this knight denied admittance since he bears a +message for me?" And from where she stood she sought with admiring eyes +the graceful shape of the Count of Aquila--the knight-errant of her +dreams. Francesco bared his head, and bent to the withers of his horse +in courteous greeting. She turned to Gonzaga impatiently. + +"For what do you wait?" she cried. "Have you not understood my wishes? +Let the bridge be lowered." + +"Bethink you, Madonna," he remonstrated. "You do not know this man. He +may be a spy of Gian Maria's--a hireling paid to betray us." + +"You fool," she answered sharply. "Do you not see that it is the wounded +knight we met that day you were escorting me to Urbino?" + +"What shall that signify?" demanded he. "Is it proof of his honesty of +purpose or loyalty to you? Be advised, Madonna, and let him deliver his +message from where he is. He is safer there." + +She measured him with a determined eye. + +"Messer Gonzaga, order them to lower the bridge," she bade him. + +"But, lady, bethink you of your peril." + +"Peril?" she echoed. "Peril from two men, and we a garrison of over +twenty? Surely the man is a coward who talks so readily of perils. Have +the drawbridge lowered." + +"But if----" he began, with a desperate vehemence, when again she cut him +short. + +"Am I to be obeyed? Am I mistress, and will you bid them lower the +bridge, or must I, myself, go see to it?" + +With a look of despairing anger and a shrug of the shoulders he turned +from her, and despatched one of his men with an order. A few moments +later, with a creaking of hinges and a clanking of chains, the great +bridge swung down and dropped with a thud to span the gulf. Instantly +the Count spurred his horse forward, and followed by Lanciotto rode +across the plank and under the archway of the entrance tower into the +first courtyard. + +Now, scarcely had he drawn rein there when through a door at the far end +appeared the gigantic figure of Fortemani, half-clad and sword in hand. +At sight of Francesco the fellow leaped down a half-dozen steps, and +advanced towards him with a burst of oaths. + +"To me!" he shouted, in a voice that might have waked the dead. "Olá! +Olá! What devil's work is this? How come you here? By whose orders was +the bridge let down?" + +"By the orders of Monna Valentina's captain," answered Francesco, +wondering what madman might be this. + +"Captain?" cried the other, coming to a standstill and his face turning +purple. "Body of Satan! What captain? I am captain here." + +The Count looked him over in surprise. + +"Why, then," said he, "you are the very man I seek. I congratulate you +on the watch you keep, Messer Capitano. Your castle is so excellently +patrolled that had I been minded for a climb I had scaled your walls and +got within your gates without arousing any of your slumbering sentries." + +Fortemani eyed him with a lowering glance. The prosperity of the past +four days had increased the insolence inherent in the man. + +"Is that your affair?" he growled menacingly. "You are over-bold, sir +stranger, to seek a quarrel with me, and over-pert to tell me how I shall +discharge my captaincy. By the Passion! You shall be punished." + +"Punished--I?" echoed Francesco, on whose brow there now descended a +scowl as black as Ercole's own. + +"Aye, punished, young sir. Ercole Fortemani is my name." + +"I have heard of you," answered the Count contemptuously, "and of how you +belie that name of yours, for they tell me that a more drunken, cowardly, +good-for-nothing rogue is not to be found in Italy--no, not even in the +Pope's dominions. And have a care how you cast the word 'punishment' at +your betters, animal. The moat is none so distant, and the immersion may +profit you. For I'll swear you've not been washed since they baptized +you--if, indeed, you be a son of Mother Church at all." + +"Sangue di Cristo!" spluttered the enraged bully, his face mottled. +"This to me? Come down from that horse." + +He laid hold of Francesco's leg to drag him to the ground, but the Count +wrenched it free by a quick motion that left a gash from his spur upon +the captain's hands. Simultaneously he raised his whip, and would have +laid the lash of it across the broad of Fortemani's back--for it had +angered him beyond words to have a ruffian of this fellow's quality +seeking to ruffle it with him--but at that moment a female voice, stern +and imperative, bade them hold in their quarrel. + +Fortemani fell back nursing his lacerated hand and muttering curses, +whilst Francesco turned in the direction whence that voice had come. +Midway on the flight of stone steps he beheld Valentina, followed by +Gonzaga, Peppe, and a couple of men-at-arms, descending from the +battlements. + +Calm and queenly she stood, dressed in a camorra of grey velvet with +black sleeves, which excellently set off her handsome height. Gonzaga +was leaning forward, speaking into her ear, and for all that his voice +was subdued, some of his words travelled down to Francesco on the still, +morning air. + +"Was I not wise, Madonna, in that I hesitated to admit him? You see what +manner of man he is." + +The blood flamed in Francesco's cheeks, nor did it soften his chagrin to +note the look which Valentina flashed down at him. + +Instantly he leapt to the ground, and flinging his reins to Lanciotto he +went forward to the foot of that stone staircase, his broad hat slung +back upon his shoulders, to meet that descending company. + +"Is this seemly, sir?" she questioned angrily. "Does it become you to +brawl with my garrison the moment you are admitted?" + +The blood rose higher in Francesco's face, and now suffused his temples +and reached his hair. Yet his voice was well restrained as he made +answer: + +"Madonna, this knave was insolent." + +"An insolence that you no doubt provoked," put in Gonzaga, a dimple +showing on his woman's cheek. But the sterner rebuke fell from the lips +of Valentina. + +"Knave?" she questioned, with flushed countenance. "If you would not +have me regret your admittance, Messer Francesco, I pray you curb your +words. Here are no knaves. That, sir, is the captain of my soldiers." + +Francesco bowed submissively, as patient under her reproof as he had been +hasty under Fortemani's. + +"It was on the matter of this captaincy that we fell to words," he +answered, with more humility. "By his own announcement I understood this +nobleman"--and his eyes turned to Gonzaga--"to be your captain." + +"He is the captain of my castle," she informed him. + +"As you see, Ser Francesco," put in Peppe, who had perched himself upon +the balustrade, "we suffer from no lack of captains here. We have also +Fra Domenico, who is captain of our souls and of the kitchen; myself am +captain of----" + +"Devil take you, fool," snapped Gonzaga, thrusting him roughly from his +perch. Then turning abruptly to the Count: "You bear a message for us, +sir?" he questioned loftily. + +Swallowing the cavalier tone, and overlooking the pronoun Gonzaga +employed, Francesco inclined his head again to the lady. + +"I should prefer to deliver it in more privacy than this." And his eye +travelled round the court and up the steps behind, where was now +collected the entire company of Fortemani. Gonzaga sneered and tossed +his golden curls, but Valentina saw naught unreasonable in the request, +and bidding Romeo attend her and Francesco follow, she led the way. + +They crossed the quadrangle, and, mounting the steps down which Fortemani +had dashed to meet the Count, they passed into the banqueting-hall, which +opened directly upon the south side of the courtyard. The Count, +following in her wake, ran the gauntlet of scowls of the assembled +mercenaries. He stalked past them unmoved, taking their measure as he +went, and estimating their true value with the unerring eye of the +practised condottiero who has had to do with the enrolling of men and the +handling of them. So little did he like their looks that on the +threshold of the hall he paused and stayed Gonzaga. + +"I am loath to leave my servant at the mercy of those ruffians, sir. May +I beg that you will warn them against offering him violence?" + +"Ruffians?" cried the lady angrily, before Gonzaga could offer a reply. +"They are my soldiers." + +Again he bowed, and there was a cold politeness in the tones in which he +answered her: + +"I crave your pardon, and I will say no more--unless it be to deplore +that I may not felicitate you on your choice." + +It was Gonzaga's turn to wax angry, for the choice had been his. + +"Your message will have need to be a weighty one, sir, to earn our +patience for your impertinence." + +Francesco returned the look of those blue eyes which vainly sought to +flash ferociously, and he made little attempt to keep his scorn from +showing in his glance. He permitted himself even to shrug his shoulders +a trifle impatiently. + +"Indeed, indeed, I think that I had best begone," he answered +regretfully, "for it is a place whose inmates seem all bent on +quarrelling with me. First your captain Fortemani greets me with an +insolence hard to leave unpunished. You, yourself, Madonna, resent that +I should crave protection for my man against those fellows whose looks +give rise for my solicitation. You are angry that I should dub them +ruffians, as if I had followed the calling of arms these ten years +without acquiring knowledge of the quality of a man however much you may +disguise him. And lastly, to crown all, this cicisbeo"--and he spread a +hand contemptuously towards Gonzaga--"speaks of my impertinences." + +"Madonna," cried Gonzaga, "I beg that you will let me deal with him." + +Unwittingly, unwillingly, Gonzaga saved the situation by that prayer. +The anger that was fast rising in Madonna's heart, stirred by the proud +bearing of the Count, was scattered before the unconscious humour of her +captain's appeal, in such ludicrous contrast was his mincing speech and +slender figure with Francesco's firm tones and lean, active height. She +did not laugh, for that would have been to have spoilt all, but she +looked from one to the other with quiet relish, noting the glance of +surprise and raised eyebrows with which the Count received the courtier's +request to be let deal with him. And thus, being turned from anger, the +balance of her mind was quick to adjust itself, and she bethought her +that perhaps there was reason in what this knight advanced, and that his +reception had lacked the courtesy that was his due. In a moment, with +incomparable grace and skill, she had soothed Gonzaga's ruffled vanity, +and appeased the Count's more sturdy resentment. + +"And now, Messer Francesco," she concluded, "let us be friends, and let +me hear your business. I beg that you will sit." + +They had passed into the banqueting-hall--a noble apartment, whose walls +were frescoed with hunting and pastoral scenes, one or two of which were +the work of Pisaniello. There were, too, some stray trophies of the +chase, and, here and there, a suit of costly armour that caught the +sunlight pouring through the tall, mullioned windows. At the far end +stood a richly carved screen of cedar, and above this appeared the +twisted railing of the minstrels' gallery. In a tall armchair of +untanned leather, at the head of the capacious board, Monna Valentina +sat herself, Gonzaga taking his stand at her elbow, and Francesco +fronting her, leaning lightly against the table. + +"The news I bear you, lady, is soon told," said the Count. "I would its +quality were better. Your suitor Gian Maria returning to Guidobaldo's +court, eager for the nuptials that were promised him, has learnt of your +flight to Roccaleone and is raising--indeed will have raised by now--an +army to invest and reduce your fortress." + +Gonzaga turned as pale as the vest of white silk that gleamed beneath his +doublet of pearl-coloured velvet at this realisation of the prophecies he +had uttered without believing. A sickly fear possessed his soul. What +fate would they mete out to him who had been the leading spirit in +Valentina's rebellion? He could have groaned aloud at this miscarriage +of all his fine plans. Where now would be the time to talk of love, to +press and carry his suit with Valentina and render himself her husband? +These would be war in the air, and bloody work that made his skin creep +and turn cold to ponder on. And the irony of it all was keenly cruel. +It was the very contingency that he had prophesied, assured that neither +Guidobaldo nor Gian Maria would be so mad as to court ridicule by +engaging upon it. + +For a second Francesco's eyes rested on the courtier's face, and saw the +fear written there for all to read. The shadow of a smile quivered on +his lips as his glance moved on to meet the eyes of Valentina, sparkling +as sparkles frost beneath the sun. + +"Why, let them come!" she exclaimed, almost in exultation. "This ducal +oaf shall find me very ready for him. We are armed at all points. We +have victuals to last us three months, if need be, and we have no lack of +weapons. Let Gian Maria come, and he will find Valentina della Rovere +none so easy to reduce. To you, sir," she continued, with more calm, "to +you on whom I have no claim, I am more than grateful for your chivalrous +act in riding here to warn me." + +Francesco sighed; a look of regret crossed his face. + +"Alas!" he said. "When I rode hither, Madonna, I had hoped to serve you +to a better purpose. I had advice to offer and assistance if you should +need it; but the sight of those men-at-arms of yours makes me fear that +it is not advice upon which it would be wise to act. For the plan I had +in mind, it would be of the first importance that your soldiers should be +trustworthy, and this, I fear me, they are not." + +"Nevertheless," put in Gonzaga feverishly, clinging to a slender hope, +"let us hear it." + +"I beg that you will," said Valentina. + +Thus enjoined, Francesco pondered a moment. + +"Are you acquainted with the politics of Babbiano?" he inquired. + +"I know something of them." + +"I will make the position quite clear to you, Madonna," he rejoined. And +with that he told her of the threatened descent of Caesar Borgia upon +Gian Maria's duchy, and hence, of the little time at her suitor's +disposal; so that if he could but be held in check before the walls of +Roccaleone for a little while, all might be well. "But seeing in what +haste he is," he ended, "his methods are likely to be rough and +desperate, and I had thought that meanwhile you need not remain here, +Madonna." + +"Not remain?" she cried, scorn of the notion in her voice. "Not remain?" +quoth Gonzaga timorously, hope sounding in his. + +"Precisely, Madonna. I would have proposed that you leave Gian Maria an +empty nest, so that even if the castle should fall into his hands he +would gain nothing." + +"You would advise me to fly?" she demanded. + +"I came prepared to do so, but the sight of your men restrains me. They +are not trustworthy, and to save their dirty skins they might throw +Roccaleone open to the besiegers, and thus your flight would be +discovered, while yet there might be time to render it futile." + +Before she could frame an answer there was Gonzaga feverishly urging her +to act upon so wise and timely a suggestion, and seek safety in flight +from a place that Gian Maria would tear stone from stone. His words +pattered quickly and piteously in entreaty, till in the end, facing him +squarely: + +"Are you afraid, Gonzaga?" she asked him. + +"I am--afraid for you, Madonna," he answered readily. + +"Then let your fears have peace. For whether I stay or whether I go, one +thing is certain: Gian Maria never shall set hands upon me." She turned +again to Francesco. "I see a certain wisdom in the counsel of flight you +would have offered me, no less than in what I take to be your advice that +I should remain. Did I but consult my humour I should stay and deliver +battle when this tyrant shows himself. But prudence, too, must be +consulted, and I will give the matter thought." And now she thanked him +with a generous charm for having come to her with this news and proffered +his assistance, asking what motives brought him. + +"Such motives as must ever impel a knight to serve a lady in distress," +said he, "and perhaps, too, the memory of the charity with which you +tended my wounds that day at Acquasparta." + +For a second their glances met, quivered in the meeting, and fell apart +again, an odd confusion in the breast of each, all of which Gonzaga, sunk +in moody rumination, observed not. To lighten the awkward silence that +was fallen, she asked him how it had transpired so soon that it was to +Roccaleone she had fled. + +"Do you not know?" he cried. "Has not Peppe told you?" + +"I have had no speech with him. He but reached the castle, himself, late +last night, and I first saw him this morning when he came to announce +your presence." + +And then, before more could be said, there arose a din of shouting from +without. The door was pushed suddenly open, and Peppe darted into the +room. + +"Your man, Ser Francesco," he cried, his face white with excitement. +"Come quickly, or they will kill him." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +FORTEMANI DRINKS WATER + + +The thing had begun with the lowering glances that Francesco had +observed, and had grown to gibes and insults after he had disappeared. +But Lanciotto had preserved an unruffled front, being a man schooled in +the Count of Aquila's service to silence and a wondrous patience. This +insensibility those hinds translated into cowardice, and emboldened by +it--like the mongrels that they were--their offensiveness grew more +direct and gradually more threatening. Lanciotto's patience was slowly +oozing away, and indeed, it was no longer anything but the fear of +provoking his master's anger that restrained him. At length one burly +ruffian, who had bidden him remove his head-piece in the company of +gentlemen, and whose request had been by Lanciotto as disregarded as the +rest, advanced menacingly towards him and caught him by the leg, as +Ercole had caught his master. Exasperated at that, Lanciotto had swung +his leg free, and caught the rash fellow a vicious kick in the face that +had felled him, stunned and bleeding. + +The roar from the man's companions told Lanciotto what to expect. In an +instant they were upon him, clamouring for his blood. He sought to draw +his master's sword, which together with the Count's other armour was +slung across his saddle-bow; but before he could extricate it, he was +seized by a dozen hands, and cropped, fighting, from the saddle. On the +ground they overpowered him, and a mailed hand was set upon his mouth, +crushing back into his throat the cry for help he would have raised. + +On the west side of the courtyard a fountain issuing from the wall had +once poured its water through a lion's head into a vast tank of moss- +grown granite. But it had been disused for some time, and the pipe in +the lion's mouth was dry. The tank, however, was more than half full of +water, which, during the late untenanting of the castle, had turned foul +and stagnant. To drown Lanciotto in this was the amiable suggestion that +emanated from Fortemani himself--a suggestion uproariously received by +his knaves, who set themselves to act upon it. They roughly dragged the +bleeding and frantically struggling Lanciotto across the yard and gained +the border of the tank, intending fully to sink him into it and hold him +under, to drown there like a rat. + +But in that instant a something burst upon him like a bolt from out of +Heaven. In one or two, and presently in more, the cruel laughter turned +to sudden howls of pain as a lash of bullock-hide caught them about head +and face and shoulders. + +"Back there, you beasts, you animals, back!" roared a voice of thunder, +and back they went unquestioning before that pitiless lash, like the pack +of craven hounds they were. + +It was Francesco, who, single-handed, and armed with no more than a whip, +was scattering them from about his maltreated servant, as the hawk +scatters a flight of noisy sparrows. And now between him and Lanciotto +there stood no more than the broad bulk of Ercole Fortemani, his back to +the Count; for, as yet, he had not realised the interruption. + +Francesco dropped his whip, and setting one hand at the captain's girdle, +and the other at his dirty neck, he hoisted him up with a strength +incredible, and hurled him from his path and into the slimy water of the +tank. + +There was a mighty roar drowned in a mightier splash as Fortemani, +spread-eagle, struck the surface and sank from sight, whilst with the +flying spray there came a fetid odour to tell of the unsavouriness of +that unexpected bath. + +Without pausing to see the completion of his work, Francesco stooped over +his prostrate servant. + +"Have the beasts hurt you, Lanciotto?" he questioned. But before the +fellow could reply, one of those hinds had sprung upon the stooping +Count, and struck him with a dagger between the shoulder-blades. + +A woman's alarmed cry rang out, for Valentina was watching the affray +from the steps of the hall, with Gonzaga at her elbow. + +But Francesco's quilted brigandine had stood the test of steel, and the +point of that assassin's dagger glanced harmlessly aside, doing no worse +hurt than a rent in the silk surface of the garment. A second later the +fellow found himself caught as in a bond of steel. The dagger was +wrenched from his grasp, and the point of it laid against his breast even +as the Count forced him down upon his knees. + +In a flash was the thing done, yet to the wretched man who saw himself +upon the threshold of Eternity, and who--like a true son of the Church-- +had a wholesome fear of hell, it seemed an hour whilst, with livid cheeks +and eyes starting from his head, he waited for that poniard to sink into +his heart, as it was aimed. But not in his heart did the blow fall. +With a sudden snort of angry amusement, the Count pitched the dagger from +him and brought down his clenched fist with a crushing force into the +ruffian's face. The fellow sank unconscious beneath that mighty blow, +and Francesco, regaining the whip that lay almost at his feet, rose up to +confront what others there might be. + +From the tank, standing breast-deep in that stinking water, his head and +face grotesquely masked in a vile green slime of putrid vegetation, +Ercole Fortemani bellowed with horrid blasphemy that he would have his +aggressor's blood, but stirred never a foot to take it. Not that he was +by nature wholly a coward; but inspired by a wholesome fear of the man +who could perform such a miracle of strength, he remained out of +Francesco's reach, well in the middle of that square basin, and lustily +roared orders to his men to tear the fellow to pieces. But his men had +seen enough of the Count's methods, and made no advance upon that +stalwart, dauntless figure that stood waiting for them with a whip which +several had already tasted. Huddled together, more like a flock of +frightened sheep than a body of men of war, they stood near the entrance +tower, the mock of Peppe, who from the stone-gallery above--much to the +amusement of Valentina's ladies and two pert pages that were with him-- +applauded in high-flown terms their wondrous valour. + +They stirred at last, but it was at Valentina's bidding. She had been +conferring with Gonzaga, who--giving it for his reason that she, herself, +might need protection--had remained beside her, well out of the fray. +She had been urging him to do something, and at last he had obeyed her, +and moved down the short flight of steps into the court; but so +reluctantly and slowly, that with an exclamation of impatience, she +suddenly brushed past him, herself to do the task she had begged of him. +Past Francesco she went, with a word of such commendation of his valour +and a look of such deep admiration, that the blood sprang, responsive, to +his cheek. She paused with a solicitous inquiry for the now risen but +sorely bruised Lanciotto. She flashed an angry look and an angry command +of silence at the great Ercole, still bellowing from his tank, and then, +within ten paces of his followers, she halted, and with wrathful mien, +and hand outstretched towards their captain, she bade them arrest him. + +That sudden, unexpected order struck dumb the vociferous Fortemani. He +ceased, and gaped at his men, who eyed one another now in doubt; but the +doubt was quickly dispelled by the lady's own words: + +"You will make him prisoner, and conduct him to the guardroom, or I will +have you and him swept out of my castle," she informed them, as +confidently as though she had a hundred men-at-arms to do her bidding on +them. + +A pace or so behind her stood the lily-cheeked Gonzaga, gnawing his lip, +timid and conjecturing. Behind him again loomed the stalwart height of +Francesco del Falco with, at his side, Lanciotto, of mien almost as +resolute as his own. + +That was the full force with which the lady spoke of sweeping them--as if +they had been so much foulness--from Roccaleone, unless they did her +bidding. They were still hesitating, when the Count advanced to +Valentina's side. + +"You have heard the choice our lady gives you," he said sternly. "Let us +know whether you will obey or disobey. This choice that is yours now, +may not be yours again. But if you elect to disobey Madonna, the gate is +behind you, the bridge still down. Get you gone!" + +Furtively, from under lowering brows, Gonzaga darted a look of impotent +malice at the Count. Whatever issue had the affair, this man must not +remain in Roccaleone. He was too strong, too dominant, and he would +render himself master of the place by no other title than that strength +of his and that manner of command which Gonzaga accounted a coarse, +swashbuckling bully's gift, but would have given much to be possessed of. +Of how strong and dominant indeed he was never had Francesco offered a +more signal proof. Those men, bruised and maltreated by him, would +beyond doubt have massed together and made short work of one less +dauntless but when a mighty courage such as his goes hand-in-hand with +the habit of command, such hinds as they can never long withstand it. +They grumbled something among themselves, and one of them at last made +answer: + +"Noble sir, it is our captain that we are bidden to arrest." + +"True; but your captain, like yourselves, is in this lady's pay; and she, +your true, your paramount commander, bids you arrest him." And now, +whilst yet they hesitated, his quick wits flung them the bait that must +prove most attractive. "He has shown himself to-day unfitted for the +command entrusted him and it may become a question, when he has been +judged, of choosing one of you to fill the place he may leave empty." + +Hinds were they in very truth; the scum of the bravi that haunted the +meanest borgo of Urbino. Their hesitation vanished, and such slight +loyalty as they felt towards Ercole was overruled by the prospect of his +position and his pay, should his disgrace become accomplished. + +They called upon him to come forth from his refuge, where he still stood, +dumb and stricken at this sudden turn events had taken. He sullenly +refused to obey the call to yield, until Francesco--who now assumed +command with a readiness that galled Gonzaga more and more--bade one of +them go fetch an arquebuse and shoot the dog. At that he cried out for +mercy, and came wading to the edge of the tank swearing that if the +immersion had not drowned him, it were a miracle but he was poisoned. + +Thus closed an incident that had worn a mighty ugly look, and it served +to open Valentina's eyes to the true quality of the men Gonzaga had hired +her. Maybe that it opened his own for that amiable lute-thrummer was +green of experience in these matters. She bade Gonzaga care for +Francesco, and called one of the grinning pages from the gallery to be +his esquire. A room was placed at his disposal for the little time that +he might spend at Roccaleone, whilst she debated what her course should +be. + +A bell tolled in the far southern wing of the castle, beyond the second +courtyard, and summoned her to chapel, for there Fra Domenico said Mass +each morning. And so she took her leave of Francesco, saying she would +pray Heaven to direct her to a wise choice, whether to fly from +Roccaleone, or whether to remain and ward off the onslaught of Gian +Maria. + +Francesco, attended by Gonzaga and the page, repaired to a handsome room +under the Lion's Tower, which rose upon the south-eastern angle of the +fortress. His windows overlooked the second, or inner, courtyard, across +which Valentina and her ladies were now speeding on their way to Mass. + +Gonzaga made shift to stifle the resentment that he felt against this +man, in whom he saw an interloper, and strove to treat him with the +courtesy that was his due. He would even have gone the length of +discussing with him the situation--prompted by a certain mistrust, and +cunningly eager to probe the real motive that had brought this stranger +to interest himself in the affairs of Valentina. But Francesco, wearily, +yet with an unimpeachable politeness, staved him off, and requested that +Lanciotto might be sent to attend him. Seeing the futility of his +endeavours, Gonzaga withdrew in increased resentment, but with a +heightened sweetness of smile and profoundness of courtesies. + +He went below to issue orders for the raising of the bridge, and finding +the men singularly meek and tractable after the sharp lesson Francesco +had read them, he vented upon them some of the vast ill-humour that +possessed him. Next he passed on to his own apartments, and there he sat +himself by a window overlooking the castle gardens, with his unpleasant +thoughts for only company. + +But presently his mood lightened and he took courage, for he could be +very brave when peril was remote. It was best, he reflected, that +Valentina should leave Roccaleone. Such was the course he would advise +and urge. Naturally, he would go with her, and so he might advance his +suit as well elsewhere as in that castle. On the other hand, if she +remained, why, so would he, and, after all, what if Gian Maria came? As +Francesco had said, the siege could not be protracted, thanks to the +tangled affairs of Babbiano. Soon Gian Maria would be forced to turn him +homeward, to defend his Duchy. If, then, for a little while they could +hold him in check, all would yet be well. Surely he had been over-quick +to despond. + +He rose and stretched himself with indolent relish, then pushing wide his +casement, he leaned out to breathe the morning air. A soft laugh escaped +him. He had been a fool indeed to plague himself with fears when he had +first heard of Gian Maria's coming. Properly viewed, it became a service +Gian Maria did him--whether they remained, or whether they went. Love +has no stronger promoter than a danger shared, and a week of such +disturbances as Gian Maria was likely to occasion them should do more to +advance his suit than he might hope to achieve in a whole month of +peaceful wooing. Then the memory of Francesco set a wrinkle 'twixt his +brows, and he bethought him how taken Valentina had been with the fellow +when first she had beheld him at Acquasparta, and of how, as she rode +that day, she had seen naught but the dark eyes of this Knight Francesco. + +"Knight Francesco of what or where?" he muttered to himself. "Bah! A +nameless, homeless adventurer; a swashbuckling bully, reeking of blood +and leather, and fit to drive such a pack as Fortemani's. But with a +lady--what shalt such an oaf attain, how shall he prevail?" He laughed +the incipient jealousy to scorn, and his brow grew clear, for now he was +in an optimistic mood--perhaps a reaction from his recent tremors. "Yet, +by the Host!" he pursued, bethinking him of the amazing boldness +Francesco had shown in the courtyard, "he has the strength of Hercules, +and a way with him that makes him feared and obeyed. Pish!" he laughed +again, as, turning, he unhooked his lute from where it hung upon the +wall. "The by-blow of some condottiero, who blends with his father's +bullying arrogance the peasant soul of his careless mother. And I fear +that such a one as that shall touch the heart of my peerless Valentina? +Why, it is a thought that does her but poor honour." + +And dismissing Francesco from his mind, he sought the strings with his +fingers, and thrummed an accompaniment as he returned to the window, his +voice, wondrous sweet and tender, breaking into a gentle love-song. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE MERCY OF FRANCESCO + + +Monna Valentina and her ladies dined at noon in a small chamber opening +from the great hall, and thither were bidden Francesco and Gonzaga. The +company was waited upon by the two pages, whilst Fra Domenico, with a +snow-white apron girt about his portentous waist, brought up the steaming +viands from the kitchen where he had prepared them; for, like a true +conventual, he was something of a master in the confection--and a very +glutton in the consumption--of delectable comestibles. The kitchen was +to him as the shrine of some minor cult, and if his breviary and beads +commanded from him the half of the ecstatic fervour of his devotions to +pot and pan, to cauldron and to spit, then was canonisation indeed +assured him. + +He set before them that day a dinner than which a better no prince +commanded, unless it were the Pope. There were ortolans, shot in the +valley, done with truffles, that made the epicurean Gonzaga roll his +eyes, translated through the medium of his palate into a very paradise of +sensual delight. There was a hare, trapped on the hillside, and stewed +in Malmsey, of a flavour so delicate that Gonzaga was regretting him his +heavy indulgence in the ortolans; there was trout, fresh caught in the +stream below, and a wondrous pasty that turned liquid in the mouth. To +wash down these good things there was stout red wine of Puglia and more +delicate Malvasia, for in his provisioning of the fortress Gonzaga had +contrived that, at least, they should not go thirsty. + +"For a garrison awaiting siege you fare mighty well at Roccaleone," was +Francesco's comment on that excellent repast. + +It was the fool who answered him. He sat out of sight upon the floor, +hunched against the chair of one of Valentina's ladies, who now and again +would toss him down a morsel from her plate, much as she might have +treated a favourite hound. + +"You have the friar to thank for it," said he, in a muffled voice, for +his mouth was crammed with pasty. "Let me be damned when I die, if I +make him not my confessor. The man who can so minister to bodies should +deal amazingly well with souls. Fra Domenico, you shall confess me after +sunset." + +"You need me not," answered the monk, in disdainful wrath. "There is a +beatitude for such as you--'Blessed are the poor in spirit.'" + +"And is there no curse for such as you?" flashed back the fool. "Does it +say nowhere--'Damned are the gross of flesh, the fat and rotund gluttons +who fashion themselves a god of their own bellies'?" + +With his sandalled foot the friar caught the fool a surreptitious kick. + +"Be still, you adder, you bag of venom." + +Fearing worse, the fool gathered himself up. + +"Beware!" he cried shrilly. "Bethink you, friar, that anger is a +cardinal sin. Beware, I say!" + +Fra Domenico checked his upraised hand, and fell to muttering scraps of +Latin, his lids veiling his suddenly downcast eyes. Thus Peppe gained +the door. + +"Say, friar; in my ear, now--Was that a hare you stewed, or an outworn +sandal?" + +"Now, God forgive me," roared the monk, springing towards him. + +"For your cooking? Aye, pray--on your knees." He dodged a blow, ducked, +and doubled back into the room. "A cook, you? Pish! you tun of convent +lard! Your ortolans were burnt, your trout swam in grease, your +pasty----" + +What the pasty may have been the company was not to learn, for Fra +Domenico, crimson of face, had swooped down upon the fool, and would have +caught him but that he dived under the table by Valentina's skirts, and +craved her protection from this gross maniac that held himself a cook. + +"Now, hold your wrath, father," she said, laughing with the rest. "He +does but plague you. Bear with him for the sake of that beautitude you +cited, which has fired him to reprisals." + +Mollified, but still grumbling threats of a beating to be bestowed on +Peppe when the opportunity should better serve him, the friar turned to +his domestic duties. They rose soon after, and at Gonzaga's suggestion +Valentina paused in the great hall to issue orders that Fortemani be +brought before her for judgment. In a score of ways, since their coming +to Roccaleone, had Ercole been wanting in that respect to which Gonzaga +held himself entitled, and this opportunity he seized with eagerness to +vent his vindictive rancour. + +Valentina begged of Francesco that he, too, would stay, and help them +with his wide experience, a phrase that sent an unpleasant pang through +the heart of Romeo Gonzaga. It was perhaps as much to assert himself as +to gratify his rancour against Fortemani, that, having despatched a +soldier to fetch the prisoner, he turned to suggest curtly that Ercole +should be hanged at once. + +"What boots a trial?" he demanded. "We were all witnesses of his +insubordination, and for that there can be but one punishment. Let the +animal hang!" + +"But the trial is of your own suggestion," she protested. + +"Nay, Madonna. I but suggested judgment. It is since you have begged +Messer Francesco, here, to assist us that I opine you mean to give the +knave a trial." + +"Would you credit this dear Gonzaga with so much bloodthirstiness?" she +asked Francesco. "Do you, sir, share his opinion that the captain should +hang unheard? I fear me you do, for, from what I have seen of them, your +ways do not incline to gentleness." + +Gonzaga smiled, gathering from that sentence how truly she apprised the +coarse nature of this stranger. Francesco's answer surprised them. + +"Nay, I hold Messer Gonzaga's an ill counsel. Show mercy to Fortemani +now, where he expects none, and you will have made a faithful servant of +him. I know his kind." + +"Ser Francesco speaks without the knowledge that we have, Madonna," was +Gonzaga's rude comment. "An example must be made if we would have +respect and orderliness from these men." + +"Then make it an example of mercy," suggested Francesco sweetly. + +"Well, we shall see," was Valentina's answer. "I like your counsel, +Messer Francesco, and yet I see a certain wisdom in Gonzaga's words. +Though in such a case as this I would sooner consort with folly than have +a man's death upon my conscience. But here he comes, and, at least, +we'll give him trial. Maybe he is penitent by now." + +Gonzaga sneered, and took his place on the right of Valentina's chair, +Francesco standing on her left; and in this fashion they disposed +themselves to hold judgment upon the captain of her forces. + +He was brought in between two mailed men-at-arms, his hands pinioned +behind him, his tread heavy as that of a man in fear, his eyes directed +sullenly upon the waiting trio, but sullenest of all upon Francesco, who +had so signally encompassed his discomfiture. Valentina spread a hand to +Gonzaga, and from Gonzaga waved it slightly in the direction of the +Bully. Responsive to that gesture, Gonzaga faced the pinioned captain +truculently. + +"You know your offence, knave," he bawled at him. "Have you aught to +urge that may deter us from hanging you?" + +Fortemani raised his brows a moment in surprise at this ferocity from one +whom he had always deemed a very woman. Then he uttered a laugh of such +contempt that the colour sprang to Gonzaga's cheek. + +"Take him out----" he began furiously, when Valentina interposed, setting +a hand upon his arm. + +"Nay, nay, Gonzaga, your methods are all wrong. Tell him---- Nay, I +will question him myself. Messer Fortemani, you have been guilty of an +act of gross abuse. You and your men were hired for me by Messer +Gonzaga, and to you was given the honourable office of captain over them, +that you might lead them in this service of mine in the ways of duty, +submission, and loyalty. Instead of that, you were the instigator of +that outrage this morning, when murder was almost done upon an +inoffensive man who was my guest. What have you to say?" + +"That I was not the instigator," he answered sullenly. + +"It is all one," she returned, "for at least it was done with your +sanction, and you took a share in that cruel sport, instead of +restraining it, as was clearly your duty. It is upon you, the captain, +that the responsibility rests." + +"Lady," he explained, "they are wild souls, but very true." + +"True to their wildness, maybe," she answered him disdainfully. Then she +proceeded: "You will remember that twice before has Messer Gonzaga had +occasion to admonish you. These last two nights your men have behaved +riotously within my walls. There has been hard drinking, there has been +dicing, and such brawling once or twice as led me to think there would be +throats cut among your ranks. You were warned by Messer Gonzaga to hold +your followers in better leash, and yet to-day, without so much as +drunkenness to excuse them, we have this vile affair, with yourself for a +ringleader in it." + +There followed a pause, during which Ercole stood with bent head like one +who thinks, and Francesco turned his wonder-laden glance upon this slight +girl with the gentle brown eyes which had been so tender and pitiful. +Marvelling at the greatness of her spirit, he grew--all unconsciously-- +the more enslaved. + +Gonzaga, all unconcerned in this, eyed Fortemani in expectation of his +answer. + +"Madonna," said the bully at last, "what can you look for from such a +troop as this? Messer Gonzaga cannot have expected me to enlist acolytes +for a business that he told me bordered upon outlawry. Touching their +drunkenness and the trifle of rioting, what soldiers have not these +faults? When they have them not, neither have they merit. The man that +is tame in times of peace is a skulking woman in times of war. For the +rest, whence came the wine they drank? It was of Messer Gonzaga's +providing." + +"You lie, hound!" blazed Gonzaga. "I provided wine for Madonna's table, +not for the men." + +"Yet some found its way to them; which is well. For water on the stomach +makes a man poor-spirited. Where is the sin of a little indulgence, +Madonna?" he went on, turning again to Valentina. "These men of mine +will prove their mettle when it comes to blows. They are dogs perhaps-- +but mastiffs every one of them, and would lose a hundred lives in your +service if they had them." + +"Aye, if they had them," put in Gonzaga sourly; "but having no more than +one apiece, they'll not care to spare it." + +"Nay, there you wrong them," cried Fortemani, with heat. "Give them a +leader strong enough to hold them, to encourage and subject them, and +they will go anywhere at his bidding." + +"And there," put in Gonzaga quickly, "you bring us back to the main +issue. Such a leader you have shown us that you are not. You have done +worse. You have been insubordinate when you should not only have been +orderly, but have enforced orderliness in others. And for that, by my +lights, you should be hanged. Waste no more time on him, Madonna," he +concluded, turning to Valentina. "Let the example be made." + +"But, Madonna----" began Fortemani, paling under the tan of his rugged +countenance. + +Gonzaga silenced him. + +"Your words are vain. You have been insubordinate, and for +insubordination there is but one penalty." + +The bully hung his head, deeming himself lost, and lacking the wit to +retort as Francesco unexpectedly retorted for him. + +"Madonna, there your adviser is at fault. The charge against the man is +wrong. There has been no insubordination." + +"How?" she questioned, turning to the Count. "None, say you?" + +"A Solomon is arisen," sneered Gonzaga. Then peevishly; "Waste not words +with him, Madonna," he pursued. "Our business is with Fortemani." + +"But stay, my good Gonzaga. He may be right." + +"Your heart is over-tender," answered Romeo impatiently. But she had +turned from him now, and was begging Francesco to make his meaning +clearer. + +"Had he raised his hand against you, Madonna, or even against Messer +Gonzaga, or had he disobeyed an order given him by either of you, then, +and then only, could there be question of insubordination. But he has +done none of these things. He is guilty of grossly misusing my servant, +it is true, but there is no insubordination in that, since he was under +no promise of loyalty to Lanciotto." + +They stared at him as though his words were words of recondite wisdom +instead of the simple statement of a plain case. Gonzaga crestfallen, +Fortemani with a light of hope and wonder shining in his eyes, and +Madonna with a faint nodding of the head that argued agreement. They +wrangled a while yet, Gonzaga bitter and vindictive and rashly scornful +of both Francesco and Fortemani. But the Count so resolutely held the +ground he had taken that in the end Valentina shrugged her shoulders, +acknowledged herself convinced, and bade Francesco deliver judgment. + +"You are in earnest, Madonna?" quoth Francesco in surprise, whilst a +black scowl disfigured the serenity of Gonzaga's brow. + +"I am indeed, Deal with him as you account best and most just, and it +shall fare with him precisely as you ordain." + +Francesco turned to the men-at-arms. "Unbind him, one of you," he said +shortly. + +"I believe that you are mad," cried Gonzaga, in a frenzy, but his mood +sprang rather from the chagrin of seeing his interloper prevail where he +had failed. "Madonna, do not heed him." + +"I pray you let be, my good Gonzaga," she answered soothingly, and +Gonzaga, ready to faint from spite, obeyed her. + +"Leave him there, and go," was Paolo's next order to the men, and they +departed, leaving the astonished Fortemani standing alone, unbound and +sheepish. + +"Now mark me well, Messer Fortemani," Francesco admonished him. "You did +a cowardly thing, unworthy of the soldier that you would have men believe +you. And for that, I think, the punishment you received at my hands has +been sufficient, in that the indignity to which I submitted you has +shaken your standing with your followers. Go back to them now and +retrieve what you have lost, and see that in the future you are worthier. +Let this be a lesson to you, Messer Fortemani. You have gone perilously +near hanging, and you have had it proved to you that in moments of peril +your men are ready to raise their hands against you. Why is that? +Because you have not sought their respect. You have been too much a +fellow of theirs in their drinking and their brawling, instead of holding +yourself aloof with dignity." + +"Lord, I have learnt my lesson!" answered the cowed bully. + +"Then act upon it. Resume your command, and discipline your men to a +better order. Madonna, here, and Messer Gonzaga will forget this thing. +Is it not so, Madonna? Is it not so, Messer Gonzaga?" + +Swayed by his will and by an intuition that told her that to whatever end +he might be working, he was working wisely, Valentina gave Fortemani the +assurance Francesco begged, and Gonzaga was forced grudgingly to follow +her example. + +Fortemani bowed low, his face pale and his limbs trembling as not even +fear had made them tremble. He advanced towards Valentina, and sinking +on one knee, he humbly kissed the hem of her gown. + +"Your clemency, Madonna, shall give you no regret. I will serve you to +the death, lady, and you, lord." At the last words he raised his eyes to +Francesco's calm face. Then, without so much as a glance at the +disappointed Gonzaga, he rose, and bowing again--a very courtier--he +withdrew. + +The closing of the door was to Gonzaga a signal to break out in a torrent +of bitter reproofs against Francesco, reproofs that were stemmed midway +by Valentina. + +"You are beside yourself, Gonzaga," she exclaimed. "What has been done, +has been done with my sanction. I do not doubt the wisdom of it." + +"Do you not? God send you never may! But that man will know no peace +until he is avenged on us." + +"Messer Gonzaga," returned Francesco, with an incomparable politeness, "I +am an older man than are you, and maybe that I have seen more warring and +more of such men. There is a certain valour lurks in that bully for all +his blustering boastfulness and swagger, and there is, too, a certain +sense of justice. Mercy he has had to-day, and time will show how right +I am in having pardoned him in Madonna's name. I tell you, sir, that +nowhere has Monna Valentina a more faithful servant than he is now likely +to become." + +"I believe you, Messer Francesco. Indeed, I am sure your act was wisdom +itself." + +Gonzaga gnawed his lip. + +"I may be wrong," said he, in grudging acquiescence. "I hope, indeed, I +may be." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +GONZAGA UNMASKS + + +The four great outer walls of Roccaleone stood ranged into a mighty +square, of which the castle proper occupied but half. The other half, +running from north to south, was a stretch of garden, broken into three +terraces. The highest of these was no more than a narrow alley under the +southern wall, roofed from end to end by a trellis of vines on beams +blackened with age, supported by uprights of granite, square and roughly +hewn. + +A steep flight of granite steps, weedy in the interstices of the old +stone, and terminating in a pair of couchant lions at the base, led down +to the middle terrace, which was called the upper garden. This was split +in twain by a very gallery of gigantic box trees running down towards the +lower terrace, and bearing eloquent witness to the age of that old +garden. Into this gallery no sun ever penetrated by more than a furtive +ray, and on the hottest day in summer a grateful cool dwelt in its green +gloom. Rose gardens spread on either side of it, but neglect of late had +left them rank with weeds. + +The third and lowest of these terraces, which was longer and broader than +either of those above, was no more than a smooth stretch of lawn, +bordered by acacias and plane trees, from the extreme corner of which +sprang a winding, iron-railed staircase of stone, leading to an eerie +which corresponded diagonally with the Lion's Tower, where the Count of +Aquila was lodged. + +On this green lawn Valentina's ladies and a page beguiled the eventide in +a game of bowls, their clumsiness at the unwonted pastime provoking the +good-humoured banter of Peppe, who looked on, and their own still better- +humoured laughter. + +Fortemani, too, was there, brazening out the morning's affair, which it +almost seemed he must have forgotten, so self-possessed and mightily at +his ease was he. He was of the kind with whom shame strikes never very +deeply, and he ruffled it gaily there, among the women, rolling his +fierce eyes to ogle them seductively, tossing his gaudy new cloak with a +high-born disdain--gloriously conscious that it would not rend in the +tossing, like the cloaks to which grim Circumstance had lately accustomed +him--and strutting it like any cock upon a dunghill. + +But the lesson he had learnt was not likely to share the same +forgetfulness. Indeed, its fruits were to be observed already in the +more orderly conduct of his men, four of whom, partisan on shoulder, were +doing duty on the walls of the castle. They had greeted his return +amongst them with sneers and derisive allusions to his immersion, but +with a few choicely-aimed blows he had cuffed the noisiest into silence +and a more subservient humour. He had spoken to them in a rasping, +truculent tone, issuing orders that he meant should be obeyed, unless the +disobeyer were eager for a reckoning with him. + +Indeed, he was an altered man, and when that night his followers, having +drunk what he accounted enough for their good, and disregarding his +orders that they should desist and get them to bed, he went in quest of +Monna Valentina. He found her in conversation with Francesco and +Gonzaga, seated in the loggia of the dining-room. They had been there +since supper, discussing the wisdom of going or remaining, of fleeing or +standing firm to receive Gian Maria. Their conference was interrupted +now by Ercole with his complaint. + +She despatched Gonzaga to quell the men, a course that Fortemani treated +to a covert sneer. The fop went rejoicing at this proof that her +estimate of his commanding qualities had nowise suffered by contrast with +those of that swashbuckling Francesco. But his pride rode him to a +bitter fall. + +They made a mock of his remonstrances, and when he emulated Francesco's +methods, addressing them with sharp ferocity, and dubbing them beasts and +swine, they caught the false ring of his fierceness, which was as unlike +the true as the ring of lead is unlike that of silver. They jeered him +insults, they mimicked his tenor voice, which excitement had rendered +shrill, and they bade him go thrum a lute for his lady's delectation, and +leave men's work to men. + +His anger rose, and they lost patience; and from showing their teeth in +laughter, they began to show them in snarls. At this his ferocity +deserted him. Brushing past Fortemani, who stood cold and contemptuous +by the doorway, watching the failure he had expected, he returned with +burning cheeks and bitter words to Madonna Valentina. + +She was dismayed at the tale he bore her, magnified to cover his own +shame. Francesco sat quietly drumming on the sill, his eyes upon the +moonlit garden below, and never by word or sign suggesting that he might +succeed where Romeo had failed. At last she turned to him. + +"Could you----?" she began, and stopped, her eyes wandering back to +Gonzaga, loath to further wound a pride that was very sore already. On +the instant Francesco rose. + +"I might try, Madonna," he said quietly, "although Messer Gonzaga's +failure gives me little hope. And yet, it may be that he has taken the +keen edge from their assurance, and that, thus, an easier task awaits me. +I will try, Madonna." And with that he went. + +"He will succeed, Gonzaga," she said, after he had gone. "He is a man of +war, and knows the words to which these fellows have no answer." + +"I wish him well of his errand," sneered Gonzaga, his pretty face white +now with sullenness. "And I'll wager you he fails." + +But Valentina disdained the offer whose rashness was more than proven +when, at the end of some ten minutes, Francesco re-entered, as +imperturbable as when he went. + +"They are quiet now, Madonna," he announced. + +She looked at him questioningly. "How did you accomplish it?" she +inquired. + +"I had a little difficulty," he said, "yet not over-much." His eye roved +to Gonzaga, and he smiled. "Messer Gonzaga is too gentle with them. Too +true a courtier to avail himself of the brutality that is necessary when +we deal with brutes. You should not disdain to use your hands upon +them," he admonished the fop in all seriousness, and without a trace of +irony. Nor did Gonzaga suspect any. + +"I, soil my hands on that vermin?" he cried, in a voice of horror. "I +would die sooner." + +"Or else soon after," squeaked Peppe, who had entered unobserved. +"Patrona mia, you should have seen this paladin," he continued, coming +forward. "Why, Orlando was never half so furious as he when he stood +there telling them what manner of dirt they were, and bidding them to bed +ere he drove them with a broomstick." + +"And they went?" she asked. + +"Not at first," said the fool. "They had drunk enough to make them very +brave, and one who was very drunk was so brave as to assault him. But +Ser Francesco fells him with his hands, and calling Fortemani he bids him +have the man dropped in a dungeon to grow sober. Then, without waiting +so much as to see his orders carried out, he stalks away, assured that no +more was needed. Nor was it. They rose up, muttering a curse or two, +maybe--yet not so loud that it might reach the ears of Fortemani--and got +themselves to bed." + +She looked again at Francesco with admiring eyes, and spoke of his +audacity in commending terms. This he belittled; but she persisted. + +"You have seen much warring, sir," she half-asked, halfasserted. + +"Why, yes, Madonna." + +And here the writhing Gonzaga espied his opportunity. + +"I do not call to mind your name, good sir," he purred. + +Francesco half-turned towards him, and for all that his mind was working +with a lightning quickness, his face was indolently calm. To disclose +his true identity he deemed unwise, for all connected with the Sforza +brood must earn mistrust at the hands of Valentina. It was known that +the Count of Aquila stood high in the favour of Gian Maria, and the news +of his sudden fall and banishment could not have reached Guidobaldo's +niece, who had fled before the knowedge of it was in Urbino. His name +would awaken suspicion, and any story of disgrace and banishment might be +accounted the very mask to fit a spy. There was this sleek, venomous +Gonzaga, whom she trusted and relied on, to whisper insidiously into her +ear. + +"My name," he said serenely, "is, as I have told you. Francesco." + +"But you have another?" quoth Valentina, interest prompting the question. + +"Why, yes, but so closely allied to the first as to be scarce worth +reciting. I am Francesco Franceschi, a wandering knight." + +"And a true one, as I know." She smiled at him so sweetly that Gonzaga +was enraged. + +"I have not heard the name before," he murmured, adding: + +"Your father was----?" + +"A gentleman of Tuscany." + +"But not at Court?" suggested Romeo. + +"Why, yes, at Court." + +Then with a sly insolence that brought the blood to Francesco's cheeks, +though to the chaste mind of Valentina's it meant nothing--"Ah!" he +rejoined. "But then, your mother----?" + +"Was more discriminating, sir, than yours," came the sharp answer, and +from the shadows the fool's smothered burst of laughter added gall to it. + +Gonzaga rose heavily, drawing a sharp breath, and the two men stabbed +each other with their eyes. Valentina, uncomprehending, looked from one +to the other. + +"Sirs, sirs, what have you said?" she cried. "Why all this war of +looks?" + +"He is over-quick to take offence, Madonna, for an honest man," was +Gonzaga's answer. "Like the snake in the grass, he is very ready with +his sting when we seek to disclose him." + +"For shame, Gonzaga," she cried, now rising too. "What are you saying? +Are you turned witless? Come, sirs, since you are both my friends, be +friends each with the other." + +"Most perfect syllogism!" murmured the fool, unheeded. + +"And you, Messer Francesco, forget his words. He means them not. He is +very hot of fancy, but sweet at heart, this good Gonzaga." + +On the instant the cloud lifted from Francesco's brow. + +"Why, since you ask me," he answered, inclining his head, "if he'll but +say he meant no malice by his words, I will confess as much for mine." + +Gonzaga, cooling, saw that haply he had gone too fast, and was the +readier to make amends. Yet in his bosom he nursed an added store of +poison, a breath of which escaped him as he was leaving Valentina, and +after Francesco had already gone: + +"Madonna," he muttered, "I mistrust that man." + +"Mistrust him? Why?" she asked, frowning despite her faith in the +magnificent Romeo. + +"I know not why; but it is here. I feel it." And with his hand he +touched the region of his heart. "Say that he is no spy, and call me a +fool." + +"Why, I'll do both," she laughed. Then more sternly, added: "Get you to +bed, Gonzaga. Your wits play you false. Peppino, call my ladies." + +In the moment that they were left alone he stepped close up to her, +spurred to madness by the jealous pangs he had that day endured. His +face gleamed white in the candlelight, and in his eyes there was a +lurking fierceness that gave her pause. + +"Have your way, Madonna," he said, in a concentrated voice; "but to- +morrow, whether we go hence, or whether we stay, he remains not with us." + +She drew herself up to the full of her slender, graceful height, her eyes +on a level with Gonzaga's own. + +"That," she answered, "is as shall be decreed by me or him." + +He breathed sharply, and his voice hardened beyond belief in one usually +so gentle of tone and manner. + +"Be warned, Madonna," he muttered, coming so close that with the +slightest swaying she must touch him, "that if this nameless sbirro shall +ever dare to stand 'twixt you and me, by God and His saints, I'll kill +him! Be warned, I say." + +And the door re-opening at that moment, he fell back, bowed, and brushing +past the entering ladies, gained the threshold. Here someone tugged at +the prodigious foliated sleeves that spread beside him on the air like +the wings of a bird. He turned, and saw Peppino motioning him to lower +his head. + +"A word in your ear, Magnificent. There was a man once went out for wool +that came back shorn." + +Angrily cuffing the fool aside, he was gone. + +Valentina sank down upon her window-seat, in a turmoil of mingled anger +and amazement that paled her cheek and set her bosom heaving. It was the +first hint of his aims respecting her that Gonzaga had ever dared let +fall, and the condition in which it left her boded ill for his ultimate +success. Her anger he could have borne, had he beheld it, for he would +have laid it to the score of the tone he had taken with her. But her +incredulity that he could indeed have dared to mean that which her senses +told her he had meant, would have shown him how hopeless was his case and +how affronted, how outraged in soul she had been left by this moment of +passionate self-revealing. He would have understood then that in her +eyes he never had been, was never like to be, aught but a servant--and +one, hereafter, that, deeming presumptuous, she would keep at greater +distance. + +But he, dreaming little of this as he paced his chamber, smiled at his +thoughts, which flowed with ready optimism. He had been a fool to give +way so soon, perhaps. The season was not yet; the fruit was not ripe +enough for plucking; still, what should it signify that he had given the +tree a slight premonitory shake? A little premature, perhaps, but it +would predispose the fruit to fall. He bethought him of her never- +varying kindness to him, her fond gentleness, and he lacked the wit to +see that this was no more than the natural sweetness that flowed from her +as freely as flows the perfume from the flower--because Nature has so +fashioned it, and not because Messer Gonzaga likes the smell. Lacking +that wit, he went in blissful confidence to bed, and smiled himself +softly to his sleep. + +Away in the room under the Lion's Tower, the Count of Aquila, too, paced +his chamber ere he sought his couch, and in his pacing caught sight of +something that arrested his attention, and provoked a smile. In a +corner, among his harness which Lanciotto had piled there, his shield +threw back the light, displaying the Sforza lion quartered with the +Aquila eagle. + +"Did my sweet Gonzaga get a glimpse of that he would have no further need +to pry into my parentage," he mused. And dragging the escutcheon from +amongst that heap of armour, he softly opened his window and flung it far +out, so that it dropped with a splash into the moat. That done, he went +to bed, and he, too, fell asleep with a smile upon his lips, and in his +mind a floating vision of Valentina. She needed a strong and ready hand +to guide her in this rebellion against the love-at-arms of Gian Maria, +and that hand he swore should be his, unless she scorned the offer of it. +And so, murmuring her name with a lingering fervour, of whose true +significance he was all-nescient, he sank to sleep, nor waked again until +a thundering at his door aroused him. And to his still dormant senses +came the voice of Lanciotto, laden with hurry and alarm. + +"Awake, lord! Up, afoot! We are beset." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE ENEMY + + +The Count leapt from his bed, and hastened to throw wide the door to +admit his servant, who with excited face and voice bore him the news that +Gian Maria had reached Roccaleone in the night, and was now encamped in +the plain before the castle. + +He was still at his tale when a page came with the message that Monna +Valentina besought Messer Francesco's presence in the great hall. He +dressed in all haste, and then, with Lanciotto at his heels, he descended +to answer her summons. As he crossed the second courtyard he beheld +Valentina's ladies grouped upon the chapel-steps in excited discussion of +this happening with Fra Domenico, who, in full canonicals, was waiting to +say the morning's Mass. He gave them a courteous "Good morrow," and +passed on to the banqueting-hall, leaving Lanciotto without. + +Here he found Valentina in conference with Fortemani. She was pacing the +great room as she talked; but, beyond that, there was no sign of +excitement in her bearing, and if any fear of the issue touched her heart +now that the moment for action was at hand, it was wondrously well- +suppressed. At sight of Francesco, a look that was partly dismay and +partly pleasure lighted her face. She greeted him with such a smile as +she would bestow in that hour upon none but a trusted friend. Then, with +a look of regret: + +"I am beyond measure grieved, sir, that you should thus stand committed +to my fortunes. They will have told you that already we are besieged, +and so you will see how your fate is now bound up with ours. For I fear +me there is no road hence for you until Gian Maria raises this siege. +The choice of going or remaining is no longer mine. We must remain, and +fight this battle out." + +"At least, lady," he answered readily, gaily almost, "I cannot share your +regrets for me. The act of yours may be a madness, Madonna, but it is +the bravest, sweetest madness that ever was, and I shall be proud to play +my part if you'll assign me one." + +"But, sir, I have no claim upon you!" + +"The claim that every beset lady has upon a true knight," he assured her. +"I could ask no better employment for these arms of mine than in your +defence against the Duke of Babbiano. I am at your service, and with a +glad heart, Monna Valentina. I have seem something of war, and you may +find me useful." + +"Make him Provost of Roccaleone, Madonna," urged Fortemani, whose +gratitude to the man who had saved his life was blent with an admiring +appreciation of his powers, of which the bully had had such practical +experience. + +"You hear what Ercole says?" she cried, turning to Francesco with a +sudden eagerness that showed how welcome that suggestion was. + +"It were too great an honour," he answered solemnly. "Yet, if you were +to place in my hands that trust, I would defend it to my last breath." + +And then, before she could answer him, Gonzaga entered by the side-door, +and frowned to see Francesco there before him. He was a trifle pale, he +carried his cloak on the right shoulder, instead of the left, and in +general his apparel was less meticulous than usual, and showed signs of +hasty donning. With a curt nod to the Count, and an utter ignoring of +Fortemani--who was scowling upon him in memory of yesterday--he bowed low +before Valentina. + +"I am distraught, Madonna----" he began, when she cut him short. + +"You have little cause to be. Have things fallen out other than we +expected?" + +"Perhaps not. Yet I had hoped that Gian Maria would not allow his humour +to carry him so far." + +"You had hoped that--after the message Messer Francesco brought us?" And +she looked him over with an eye of sudden understanding. "Yet you +expressed no such hope when you advised this flight to Roccaleone. You +were all for fighting then. A martial ardour consumed you. Whence this +change? Is it the imminence of danger that gives it a reality too grim +for your appetite?" + +There was a scorn in her words that wounded him as she meant it should. +His last night's rashness had shown her the need to leave him in no false +opinion of the extent of her esteem, and, in addition, those last words +of his had shown him revealed in a new light, and she liked him the less +by it. + +He inclined his head slightly, shame blazing red in his cheeks, that he +should be thus reproved before Fortemani and that upstart Francesco. +That Francesco was an upstart was no longer a matter of surmise with him. +His soul assured him of it. + +"Madonna," he said, with some show of dignity, ignoring her gibes, "I +came to bear you news that a herald from Gian Maria craves a hearing. +Shall I hold parley with him for you?" + +"You are too good," she answered sweetly. "I will hear the man myself." + +He bowed submissively, and then his eye moved to Francesco. + +"We might arrange with him for the safe-conduct of this gentleman," he +suggested. + +"There is no hope they would accord it," she answered easily. "Nor could +I hope so if they would, for Messer Francesco has consented to fill the +office of Provost of Roccaleone. But we are keeping the messenger +waiting. Sirs, will you attend me to the ramparts?" + +They bowed, and followed her, Gonzaga coming last, his tread heavy as a +drunkard's, his face white to the lips in the bitter rage with which he +saw himself superseded, and read his answer to the hot words that last +night he had whispered in Valentina's ear. + +As they crossed the courtyard Francesco discharged the first act of his +new office in ordering a half-dozen men-at-arms to fall in behind them, +to the end that they might make some show upon the wall when they came to +parley with the herald. + +They found a tall man on a tall, grey horse, whose polished helm shone +like silver in the morning sun, and whose haubergeon was almost hidden +under a crimson tabard ornamented with the Sforza lion. He bowed low as +Valentina appeared, followed by her escort, foremost in which stood the +Count of Aquila, his broad castor pulled down upon his brow, so that it +left his face in shadow. + +"In the name of my master, the High and Mighty Lord Gian Maria Sforza, +Duke of Babbiano, I call upon you to yield, lady, laying down your arms +and throwing open your gates." + +There followed a pause, at the end of which she asked him was that the +sum of his message, or was there something that he had forgotten. The +herald, bowing gracefully upon the arched neck of his caracoling palfrey, +answered her that what he had said was all he had been bidden say. + +She turned with a bewildered and rather helpless look to those behind +her. She wished that the matter might be conducted with due dignity, and +her convent rearing left her in doubt of how this might best be achieved. +She addressed herself to Francesco. + +"Will you give him his answer, my Lord Provost," she said, with a smile, +and Francesco, stepping forward and leaning on a merlon of that embattled +wall, obeyed her. + +"Sir Herald," he said, in a gruff voice that was unlike his own, "will +you tell me since when has the Duke of Babbiano been at war with Urbino +that he should thus beset one of its fortresses, and demand the surrender +of it?" + +"His Highness," replied the herald, "is acting with the full sanction of +the Duke of Urbino in sending this message to the Lady Valentina della +Rovere." + +At that Valentina elbowed the Count aside, and forgetting her purpose of +conducting this affair with dignity, she let her woman's tongue deliver +the answer of her heart. + +"This message, sir, and the presence here of your master, is but another +of the impertinences that I have suffered at his hands, and it is the +crowning one. Take you that message back to him, and tell him that when +I am instructed by what right he dares to send you upon such an errand, I +may render him an answer more germane with his challenge." + +"Would you prefer, Madonna, that his Highness should come himself to +speak with you?" + +"There is nothing I should prefer less. Already has necessity compelled +me to have more to say to Gian Maria than I could have wished." And with +a proud gesture she signified that the audience was at an end, and turned +to quit the wall. + +She had a brief conference with Francesco, during which he consulted her +as to certain measures of defence to be taken, and made suggestions, to +all of which she agreed, her hopes rising fast to see that here, at +least, she had a man with knowledge of the work to which he had set his +hand. It lightened her heart and gave her a glad confidence to look on +that straight, martial figure, the hand so familiarly resting on the hilt +of the sword that seemed a part of him, and the eyes so calm; whilst when +he spoke of perils, they seemed to dwindle 'neath the disdain of them so +manifest in his tone. + +With Fortemani at his heels he went about the execution of the measures +he had suggested, the bully following him now with the faithful wonder of +a dog for its master, realising that here, indeed, was a soldier of +fortune by comparison with whom the likes of himself were no better than +camp-followers. Confidence, too, did Ercole gather from that magnetism +of Francesco's unfaltering confidence; for he seemed to treat the matter +as a great jest, a comedy played for the Duke of Babbiano and at that +same Duke's expense. And just as Francesco's brisk tone breathed +confidence into Fortemani and Valentina, so, too, did it breathe it into +Fortemani's wretched followers. They grew zestful in the reflection of +his zest, and out of admiration for him they came to admire the business +on which they were engaged, and, finally, to take a pride in the part he +assigned to each of them. Within an hour there was such diligent bustle +in Roccaleone, such an air of grim gaiety and high spirits, that +Valentina, observing it, wondered what manner of magician was this she +had raised to the command of her fortress, who in so little time could +work so marvellous a change in the demeanour of her garrison. + +Once only did Francesco's light-heartedness fail him, and this was when, +upon visiting the armoury, he found but one single cask of gunpowder +stored there. He turned to Fortemani to inquire where Gonzaga had +bestowed it, and Fortemani being as ignorant as himself upon the subject +he went forthwith in quest of Gonzaga. After ransacking the castle for +him, he found him pacing the vine-alley in the garden in animated +conversation with Valentina. At his approach the courtier's manner grew +more subdued, and his brows sullen. + +"Messer Gonzaga," Francesco hailed him. The courtier, surprised, looked +up. "Where have you hidden your store of powder?" + +"Powder?" faltered Gonzaga, chilled by a sudden apprehension. "Is there +none in the armoury?" + +"Yes--one small cask, enough to load a cannon once or twice, leaving us +nothing for our hand-guns. Is that your store?" + +"If that is all there is in the armoury, that is all we have." + +Franceseo stood speechless, staring at him, a dull flush creeping into +his cheeks. In that moment of wrath he forgot their positions, and gave +never a thought to the smarting that must be with Gonzaga at the loss of +rank he had suffered since Valentina had appointed a provost. + +"And are these your methods of fortifying Roccaleone?" he asked, in a +voice that cut like a knife. "You have laid in good store of wine, a +flock of sheep, and endless delicacies, sir," he jeered. "Did you expect +to pelt the enemy with these, or did you reckon upon no enemy at all?" + +Now this question touched so closely upon the truth, that it fired in +Gonzaga's bosom an anger that for the moment made a man of him. It was +the last breath that blew into a blaze the smouldering wrath he carried +in his soul. + +His retort came fierce and hot. It was as unmeasured and contemptuous as +Francesco's erst recriminations, and it terminated in a challenge to the +Count to meet him on horse or foot, with sword or lance, and that as soon +as might be. + +But Valentina intervened, and rebuked them both. Yet to Francesco her +rebuke was courteous, and ended in a prayer that he should do the best +with such resources as Roccaleone offered; to Gonzaga it was contemptuous +in the last degree, for Francesco's question--which Gonzaga had left +unanswered--coming at a moment when she was full of suspicions of +Gonzaga, and the ends he had sought to serve in advising her upon a +course which he had since shown himself so utterly unfitted to guide, had +opened wide her eyes. She remembered how strangely moved he had been +upon learning yesterday that Gian Maria was marching upon Roccaleone, and +how ardently he had advised flight from the fortress--he that had so +bravely talked of holding it against the Duke. + +They were still wrangling there in a most unseemly fashion when a +trumpet-blast reached them from beyond the walls. + +"The herald again," she cried. "Come, Messer Francesco, let us hear what +fresh message he brings." + +She led Francesco away, leaving Gonzaga in the shadow of the vines, +reduced well-nigh to tears in the extremity of his mortification. + +The herald was returned with the announcement that Valentina's answer +left Gian Maria no alternative but to await the arrival of Duke +Guidobaldo, who was then marching to join him. The Duke of Urbino's +presence would be, he thought, ample justification in her eyes for the +challenge Gian Maria had sent, and which he would send again when her +uncle arrived to confirm it. + +Thereafter, the remainder of the day was passed in peace at Roccaleone, +if we except the very hell of unrest that surged in the heart of Romeo +Gonzaga. He sat disregarded at supper that evening, save by Valentina's +ladies and the fool, who occasionally rallied him upon his glumness. +Valentina herself turned her whole attention to the Count, and whilst +Gonzaga--Gonzaga, the poet of burning fancy, the gay songster, the +acknowledged wit, the mirror of courtliness--was silent and tongue-tied, +this ruffling, upstart swashbuckler entertained them with a sprightliness +that won him every heart--always excepting that of Romeo Gonzaga. + +Francesco made light of the siege in a manner that enlivened every soul +present with relief. He grew merry at the expense of Gian Maria, and +made it very plain that he could have found naught more captivating to +his warlike fancy than this business upon which an accident had embarked +him. He was as full of confidence for the issue as he was full of eager +anticipation of the fray itself. + +Is it wonderful that--never having known any but artificial men; men of +court and ante-chamber; men of dainty ways and mincing, affected tricks +of speech; in short, such men as circumstance ordains shall surround the +great--Monna Valentina's eyes should open very wide, the better to behold +this new pattern of a man, who, whilst clearly a gentleman of high +degree, carried with him an air of the camp rather than the camerion, was +imbued by a spirit of chivalry and adventure, and ignored with a certain +lofty dignity, as if beneath his observance, the poses that she was wont +to see characterising the demeanour of the gentlemen of his Highness, her +uncle. + +He was young, moreover, yet no longer callow; comely, yet with a strong +male comeliness; he had a pleasantly modulated voice, yet one that they +had heard swell into a compelling note of command; he had the most +joyous, careless laugh in all the world--such a laugh as endears a man to +all that hear it--and he indulged it without stint. + +Gonzaga sat glum and moody, his heart bursting with the resentment of the +mean and the incompetent for the man of brilliant parts. But the morrow +was to bring him worse. + +The Duke of Urbino arrived next morning, and rode up to the moat in +person, attended only by a trumpeter, who, for the third time, wound a +note of challenge to the fortress. + +As on the previous day, Valentina answered the summons, attended by +Francesco, Fortemani and Gonzaga--the latter uninvited yet not denied, +and following sullenly in her train, in a last, despairing attempt to +assert himself one of her captains. + +Francesco had put on his harness, and came arrayed from head to foot in +resplendent steel, to do worthy honour to the occasion. A bunch of +plumes nodded in his helm, and for all that his beaver was open, yet the +shadows of the head-piece afforded at the distance sufficient concealment +to his features. + +The sight of her uncle left Valentina unmoved. Well-beloved though he +was of his people, between himself and his niece he had made no effort +ever to establish relations of affection. Less than ever did he now seek +to prevail by the voice of kinship. He came in the panoply of war, as a +prince to a rebel subject, and in precisely such a tone did he greet her. + +"Monna Valentina," he said--seeming entirely to overlook the circumstance +that she was his kinswoman--"deeply though this rebellion grieves me, you +are not to think that your sex shall gain you any privileges or any +clemency. We will treat you precisely as we would any other rebel +subject who acted as you have done." + +"Highness," she replied, "I solicit no privilege beyond that to which my +sex gives me the absolute right, and which has no concern with war and +arms. I allude to the privilege of disposing of myself, my hand and +heart, as it shall please me. Until you come to recognise that I am a +woman endowed with a woman's nature, and until, having realised it, you +are prepared to submit to it, and pass me your princely word to urge the +Duke of Babbiano's suit no further with me, here will I stay in spite of +you, your men-at-arms, and your paltry ally, Gian Maria, who imagines +that love may be made successfully in armour, and that a way to a woman's +heart is to be opened with cannon-shot." + +"I think we shall bring you to a more subjective and dutiful frame of +mind, Madonna," was the grim answer. + +"Dutiful to whom?" + +"To the State, a princess of which you have had the honour to be born." + +"And what of my duty to myself, to my heart, and to my womanhood? Is no +account to be taken of that?" + +"These are matters, Madonna, that are not to be discussed in shouts from +the walls of a castle--nor, indeed, do I wish to discuss them anywhere. +I am here to summon you to surrender. If you resist us, you do so at +your peril." + +"Then at my peril I will resist you--gladly. I defy you. Do your worst +against me, disgrace your manhood and the very name of chivalry by +whatsoever violence may occur to you, yet I promise you that Valentina +della Rovere never shall become the wife of his Highness of Babbiano." + +"You refuse to open your gates?" he returned, in a voice that shook with +anger. + +"Utterly and finally." + +"And you think to persist in this?" + +"As long as I have life." + +The Prince laughed sardonically. + +"I wash my hands of the affair and of its consequences," he answered +grimly. "I leave it in the care of your future husband, Gian Maria +Sforza, and if, in his very natural eagerness for the nuptials, he uses +your castle roughly, the blame of it must rest with you. But what he +does, he does with my full sanction, and I have come hither to advise you +of it since you appeared in doubt. I beg that you will remain there for +a few moments, to hear what his Highness himself may have to say. I +trust his eloquence may prove more persuasive." + +He saluted ceremoniously, and, wheeling his horse about, he rode away. +Valentina would have withdrawn, but Francesco urged her to remain, and +await the Duke of Babbiano's coming. And so they paced the battlements, +Valentina in earnest talk with Francesco, Gonzaga following in moody +silence with Fortemani, and devouring them with his eyes. + +From their eminence they surveyed the bustling camp in the plain, where +tents, green, brown, and white, were being hastily erected by half- +stripped soldiers. The little army altogether, may have numbered a +hundred men, which, in his vainglory, Gian Maria accounted all that would +be needed to reduce Roccaleone. But the most formidable portion of his +forces rolled into the field even as they watched. It was heralded by a +hoarse groaning of the wheels of bullock-carts to the number of ten, on +each of which was borne a cannon. Other carts followed with ammunition +and victuals for the men encamped. + +They looked on with interest at the busy scene that was toward, and as +they watched they saw Guidobaldo ride into the heart of the camp, and +dismount. Then from out of a tent more roomy and imposing than the rest +advanced the short, stout figure of Gian Maria, not to be recognised at +that distance save by the keen eyes of Francesco that were familiar with +his shape. + +A groom held a horse for him and assisted him to mount, and then, +attended by the same trumpeter that had escorted Guidobaldo, he rode +forward towards the castle. At the edge of the moat he halted, and at +sight of Valentina and her company, he doffed his feathered hat, and +bowed his straw-coloured head. + +"Monna Valentina," he called, and when she stepped forth in answer, he +raised his little, cruel eyes in a malicious glance and showed the round +moon of his white face to be whiter even, than its wont--a pallor +atrabilious and almost green. + +"I am grieved that his Highness, your uncle, should not have prevailed +with you. Where he has failed, I may have little hope of succeeding--by +the persuasion of words. Yet I would beg you to allow me to have speech +of your captain, whoever he may be." + +"My captains are here in attendance," she answered tranquilly. + +"So! You have a plurality of them; to command--how many men?" + +"Enough," roared Francesco, interposing, his voice sounding hollow from +his helmet, "to blow you and your woman besieging scullions to +perdition." + +The Duke stirred on his horse, and peered up at the speaker. But there +was too little of his face visible for recognition, whilst his voice was +altered and his figure dissembled in its steel casing. + +"Who are you, rogue?" he asked. + +"Rogue in your teeth, be you twenty times a Duke," returned the other, at +which Valentina laughed outright. + +Never from the day when he had uttered his first wail had his Highness of +Babbiano heard words of such import from the lips of living man. A +purple flush mottled his cheeks at the indignity of it. + +"Attend to me, knave!" he bellowed. "Whatever betide the rest of this +misguided garrison when ultimately it falls into my hands, for you I can +promise a rope and a cross-beam." + +"Bah!" sneered the knight. "First catch your bird. Be none so sure that +Roccaleone ever will fall into your hands. While I live you do not enter +here, and my life, Highness, is for me a precious thing, which I'll not +part with lightly." + +Valentina's eyes were mirthless now as she turned them upon that +gleaming, martial figure standing so proudly at her side, and seeming so +well-attuned to the proud defiance he hurled at the princely bully below. + +"Hush, sir!" she murmured. "Do not anger him further." + +"Aye," groaned Gonzaga, "in God's name say no more, or you'll undo us +hopelessly." + +"Madonna," said the Duke, without further heeding Francesco, "I give you +twenty-four hours in which to resolve upon your action. Yonder you see +them bringing the cannon into camp. When you wake to-morrow you shall +find those guns trained upon your walls. Meanwhile, enough said. May I +speak a word with Messer Gonzaga ere I depart." + +"So that you depart, you may say a word to whom you will," she answered +contemptuously. And, turning aside, she motioned Gonzaga to the crenel +she abandoned. + +"I'll swear that mincing jester is trembling already with the fear of +what is to come," bawled the Duke, "and perhaps fear will show him the +way to reason. Messer Gonzaga!" he called, raising his voice. "As I +believe the men of Roccaleone are in your service, I call upon you to bid +them throw down that drawbridge, and in the name of Guidobaldo as well as +my own, I promise them free pardon and no hurt--saving only that rascal +at your side. But if your knaves resist me, I promise you that when I +shall have dashed Roccaleone stone from stone, not a man of you all will +I spare." + +Shaking like an aspen Gonzaga stood there, his voice palsied and making +no reply, whereupon Francesco leant forward again. + +"We have heard your terms," he answered, "and we are not like to heed +them. Waste not the day in vain threats." + +"Sir, my terms were not for you. I know you not; I addressed you not, +nor will I suffer myself to be addressed by you." + +"Linger there another moment," answered the vibrating voice of the +knight, "and you will find yourself addressed with a volley of arquebuse- +shot. Olá, there!" he commanded, turning and addressing an imaginary +body of men on the lower ramparts of the garden, to his left. +"Arquebusiers to the postern! Blow your matches! Make ready! Now, my +Lord Duke, will you draw off, or must we blow you off?" + +The Duke's reply took the form of a bunch of blasphemous threats of how +he would serve his interlocutor when he came to set hands on him. + +"Present arms!" roared the knight to his imaginary arquebusiers, +whereupon, without another word, the Duke turned his horse and rode off +in disgraceful haste, his trumpeter following hot upon his heels, pursued +by a derisive burst of laughter from Francesco. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +TREACHERY + + +"Sir," gulped Gonzaga, as they were descending from the battlements, "you +will end by having us all hanged. Was that a way to address a prince?" + +Valentina frowned that he should dare rebuke her knight. But Francesco +only laughed. + +"By St. Paul! How would you have had me address him?" he inquired. +"Would you have had me use cajolery with him--the lout? Would you have +had me plead mercy from him, and beg him, in honeyed words, to be patient +with a wilful lady? Let be, Messer Gonzaga, we shall weather it yet, +never doubt it." + +"Messer Gonzaga's courage seems of a quality that wanes as the need for +it increases," said Valentina. + +"You are confounding courage, Madonna, with foolhardy recklessness," the +courtier returned. "You may learn it to your undoing." + +That Gonzaga was not the only one entertaining this opinion they were +soon to learn, for, as they reached the courtyard a burly, black-browed +ruffian, Cappoccio by name, thrust himself in their path. + +"A word with you, Messer Gonzaga, and you, Ser Ercole." His attitude was +full of truculent insolence, and all paused, Francesco and Valentina +turning from him to the two men whom he addressed, and waiting to hear +what he might have to say to them. "When I accepted service under you, I +was given to understand that I was entering a business that should entail +little risk to my skin. I was told that probably there would be no +fighting, and that if there were, it would be no more than a brush with +the Duke's men. So, too, did you assure my comrades." + +"Did you indeed?" quoth Valentina, intervening, and addressing herself to +Fortemani, to whom Cappoccio's words had been directed. + +"I did, Madonna," answered Ercole. "But I had Messer Gonzaga's word for +it." + +"Did you," she continued, turning to Gonzaga, "permit their engagement on +that understanding?" + +"On some such understanding, yes, Madonna," he was forced to confess. + +She looked at him a moment in amazement. Then: + +"Msser Gonzaga," she said at length, "I think that I begin to know you." + +But Cappoccio, who was nowise interested in the extent of Valentina's +knowledge of the man, broke in impetuously: + +"Now we have heard what has passed between this new Provost here and his +Highness of Babbiano. We have heard the terms that were offered, and his +rejection of them, and I am come to tell you, Ser Ercole, and you, Messer +Gonzaga, that I for one will not remain here to be hanged when Roccaleone +shall fall into the hands of Gian Maria. And there are others of my +comrades who are of the same mind." + +Valentina looked at the rugged, determined features of the man, and fear +for the first time stole into her heart and was reflected on her +countenance. She was half-turning to Gonzaga, to vent upon him some of +the bitterness of her humour--for him she accounted to blame--when once +again Francesco came to the rescue. + +"Now, shame on you, Cappoccio, for a paltry hind! Are these words for +the ears of a besieged and sorely harassed lady, craven?" + +"I am no craven," the man answered hoarsely, his face flushing under the +whip of Francesco's scorn. "Out in the open I will take my chances, and +fight in any cause that pays me. But this is not my trade--this waiting +for the death of a trapped rat." + +Francesco met his eyes steadily for a moment, then glanced at the other +men, to the number of a half-score or so--all, in fact, whom the duties +he had apportioned them did not hold elsewhere. They hung in the rear of +Cappoccio, all ears for what was being said, and their countenances +plainly showing how their feelings were in sympathy with their spokesman. + +"And you a soldier, Cappoccio?" sneered Francesco. "Shall I tell you in +what Fortemani was wrong when he enlisted you? He was wrong in not +hiring you for scullion duty in the castle kitchen." + +"Sir Knight!" + +"Bah! Do you raise your voice to me? Do you think I am of your kind, +animal, to be affrighted by sounds--however hideous?" + +"I am not affrighted by sounds." + +"Are you not? Why, then, all this ado about a bunch of empty threats +cast at us by the Duke of Babbiano? If you were indeed the soldier you +would have us think you, would you come here and say, 'I will not die +this way, or that'? Confess yourself a boaster when you tell us that you +are ready to die in the open." + +"Nay! That am I not." + +"Then, if you are ready to die out there, why not in here? Shall it +signify aught to him that dies where he gets his dying done? But +reassure yourself, you woman," he added, with a laugh, and in a voice +loud enough to be heard by the others, "you are not going to die--neither +here, nor there." + +"When Roccaleone capitulates----" + +"It will not capitulate," thundered Francesco. + +"Well, then--when it is taken." + +"Nor will it be taken," the Provost insisted, with an assurance that +carried conviction. "If Gian Maria had time unlimited at his command, he +might starve us into submission. But he has not. An enemy is menacing +his own frontiers, and in a few days--a week, at most--he will be forced +to get him hence to defend his crown." + +"The greater reason for him to use stern measures and bombard us as he +threatens," answered Cappoccio shrewdly but rather in the tone of a man +who expects to have his argument disproved. And Francesco, if he could +not disprove it, could at least contradict it. + +"Believe it not," he cried, with a scornful laugh. "I tell you that Gian +Maria will never dare so much. And if he did, are these walls that will +crumble at a few cannon-shots? Assault he might attempt; but I need not +tell a soldier that twenty men who are stout and resolute, as I will +believe you are for all your craven words, could hold so strong a place +as this against the assault of twenty times the men the Duke has with +him. And for the rest, if you think I tell you more than I believe +myself, I ask you to remember how I am included in Gian Maria's threat. +I am but a soldier like you, and such risks as are yours are mine as +well. Do you see any sign of faltering in me, any sign of doubting the +issue, or any fear of a rope that shall touch me no more than it shall +touch you? There, Cappoccio! A less merciful provost would have hanged +you for your words--for they reek of sedition. Yet I have stood and +argued with you, because I cannot spare a brave man such as you will +prove yourself. Let us hear no more of your doubtings. They are +unworthy. Be brave and resolute, and you shall find yourself well +rewarded when the baffled Duke shall be forced to raise this siege." + +He turned without waiting for the reply of Cappoccio--who stood +crestfallen, his cheeks reddened by shame of his threat to get him hence +--and conducted Valentina calmly across the yard and up the steps of the +hall. + +It was his way never to show a doubt that his orders would be obeyed, yet +on this occasion scarce had the door of the hall closed after them when +he turned sharply to the following Ercole. + +"Get you an arquebuse," he said quickly, "and take my man Lanciotto, with +you. Should those dogs still prove mutinous, fire into any that attempt +the gates--fire to kill--and send me word. But above all, Ercole, do not +let them see you or suspect your presence; that were to undermine such +effect as my words may have produced." + +From out of a woefully pale face Valentina raised her brown eyes to his, +in a look that was as a stab to the observing Gonzaga. + +"I needed a man here," she said, "and I think that Heaven it must have +been that sent you to my aid. But do you think," she asked, and with her +eyes she closely scanned his face for any sign of doubt, "that they are +pacified?" + +"I am assured of it, Madonna. Come, there are signs of tears in your +eyes, and--by my soul!--there is naught to weep at." + +"I am but a woman, after all," she smiled up at him, "and so, subject to +a woman's weakness. It seemed as if the end were indeed come just now. +It had come, but for you. If they should mutiny----" + +"They shall not, while I am here," he answered, with a cheering +confidence. And she, full of faith in this true knight of hers, went to +seek her ladies, and to soothe in her turn any alarm to which they might +have fallen a prey. + +Francesco went to disarm, and Gonzaga to take the air upon the ramparts, +his heart a very bag of gall. His hatred for the interloper was as +nothing now to his rage against Valentina, a rage that had its birth in a +wondering uncomprehension of how she should prefer that coarse, +swashbuckling bully to himself, the peerless Gonzaga. And as he walked +there, under the noontide sky, the memory of Francesco's assurance that +the men would not mutiny returned to him, and he caught himself most +ardently desiring that they might, if only to bear it home to Valentina +how misplaced was her trust, how foolish her belief in that loud boaster. +He thought next--and with increasing bitterness--of his own brave +schemes, of his love for Valentina, and of how assured he had been that +his affections were returned, before this ruffler came amongst them. He +laughed in bitter scorn as the thought returned to her preferring +Francesco to himself. Well, it might be so now--now that the times were +warlike, and this Francesco was such a man as shone at his best in them. +But what manner of companion would this sbirro make in times of peace? +Had he the wit, the grace, the beauty even that was Gonzaga's? +Circumstance, it seemed to him, was here to blame, and he roundly cursed +that same Circumstance. In other surroundings, he was assured that +she would not have cast an eye upon Francesco whilst he, himself, was by; +and if he recalled their first meeting at Acquasparta, it was again to +curse Circumstance for having placed the knight in such case as to appeal +to the tenderness that is a part of woman's nature. + +He reflected--assured that he was right--that if Francesco had not come +to Roccaleone, he might by now have been wed to Valentina; and once wed, +he could throw down the bridge and march out of Roccaleone, assured that +Gian Maria would not care to espouse his widow, and no less assured that +Guidobaldo--who was at heart a kind and clement prince--would be content +to let be what was accomplished, since there would be naught gained +beyond his niece's widowhood in hanging Gonzaga. It was the specious +argument that had lured him upon this rash enterprise, the hopes that he +was confident would have fructified but for the interloping of Francesco. + +He stood looking down at the tented plain, with black rage and black +despair blotting the beauty from the sunlight of that May morning, and +then it came to him that since there was naught to be hoped from his old +plans, might it not be wise to turn his attention to new ones that would, +at least, save him from hanging? For he was assured that whatever might +betide the others, his own fate was sealed, whether Roccaleone fell or +not. It would be remembered against him that the affair was of his +instigating, and from neither Gian Maria nor Guidobaldo might he look for +mercy. + +And now the thought of extricating himself from his desperate peril +turned him cold by its suddenness. He stood very still a moment; then +looked about him as though he feared that some watching spy might read on +him the ugly intention that of a sudden had leapt to life in his heart. +Swiftly it spread, and took more definite shape, the reflection of it +showing now upon his smooth, handsome face, and disfiguring it beyond +belief. He drew away from the wall, and took a turn or two upon the +ramparts, one hand behind him, the other raised to support his drooping +chin. Thus he brooded for a little while. Then, with another of his +furtive glances, he turned to the north-western tower, and entered the +armoury. There he rummaged until he had found the pen, ink and paper +that he sought, and with the door wide open--the better that he might +hear the sound of approaching steps--he set himself feverishly to write. +It was soon done, and he stood up, waving the sheet to dry the ink. Then +he looked it over again, and this is what he had written: + +"I have it in my power to stir the garrison to mutiny and to throw open +the gates of Roccaleone. Thus shall the castle fall immediately into +your hands, and you shall have a proof of how little I am in sympathy +with this rebellion of Monna Valentina's. What terms do you offer me if +I accomplish this? Answer me now, and by the same means as I am +employing, but dispatch not your answer if I show myself upon the +ramparts. + "ROMEO GONZAGA." + + +He folded the paper, and on the back he wrote the superscription--"To the +High and Mighty Duke of Babbiano." Then opening a large chest that stood +against the wall, he rummaged a moment, and at last withdrew an arbalest +quarrel. About the body of this he tied his note. Next, from the wall +he took down a cross-bow, and from a corner a moulinet for winding it. +With his foot in the stirrup he made the cord taut and set the shaft in +position. + +And now he closed the door, and, going to the window, which was little +more than an arrow-slit, he shouldered his arbalest. He took careful aim +in the direction of the ducal tent, and loosed the quarrel. He watched +its light, and it almost thrilled him with pride in his archery to see it +strike the tent at which he had aimed, and set the canvas shuddering. + +In a moment there was a commotion. Men ran to the spot, others emerged +from the tent, and amongst the latter Gonzaga recognised the figures of +Gian Maria and Guidobaldo. + +The bolt was delivered to the Duke of Babbiano, who, with an upward +glance at the ramparts, vanished into the tent once more. + +Gonzaga moved from his eerie, and set wide the door of the tower, so that +his eyes could range the whole of the sun-bathed ramparts. Returning to +his window, he waited impatiently for the answer. Nor was his impatience +to endure long. At the end of some ten minutes Gian Maria reappeared, +and, summoning an archer to his side, he delivered him something and made +a motion of his hand towards Roccaleone. Gonzaga moved to the door, and +stood listening breathlessly. At the least sign of an approach, he would +have shown himself, and thus, by the provision made in his letter have +cautioned the archer against shooting his bolt. But all was quiet, and +so Gonzaga remained where he was until something flashed like a bird +across his vision, struck sharply against the posterior wall, and fell +with a tinkle on the broad stones of the rampart. A moment later the +answer from Gian Maria was in his hands. + +He swiftly unwound it from the shaft that had brought it, and dropped the +bolt into a corner. Then unfolding the letter, he read it, leaning +against one of the merlons of the wall. + +"If you can devise a means to deliver Roccaleone at once into my hands +you shall earn my gratitude, full pardon for your share in Monna +Valentina's rebellion, and the sum of a thousand gold florins. + "GIAN MARIA." + + +As he read, a light of joy leapt to his eyes. Gian Maria's terms were +very generous. He would accept them, and Valentina should realise when +too late upon what manner of broken reed she leaned in relying upon +Messer Francesco. Would he save her now, as he so loudly boasted? Would +there indeed be no mutiny, as he so confidently prophesied? Gonzaga +chuckled evilly to himself. She should learn her lesson, and when she +was Gian Maria's wife, she might perhaps repent her of her treatment of +Romeo Gonzaga. + +He laughed softly to himself. Then suddenly he turned cold, and he felt +his skin roughening. A stealthy step sounded behind him. + +He crumpled the Duke's letter in his hand, and in the alarm of the +moment, he dropped it over the wall. Seeking vainly to compose the +features that a chilling fear had now disturbed, he turned to see who +came. + +Behind him stood Peppe, his solemn eyes bent with uncanny intentness upon +Gonzaga's face. + +"You were seeking me?" quoth Romeo, and the quaver in his voice sorted +ill with his arrogance. + +The fool made him a grotesque bow. + +"Monna Valentina desires that you attend her in the garden, Illustrious." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +PLOT AND COUNTERPLOT + + +Peppe's quick eyes had seen Gonzaga crumple and drop the paper, no less +than he had observed the courtier's startled face, and his suspicions had +been aroused. He was by nature prying, and experience had taught him +that the things men seek to conceal are usually the very things it +imports most to have knowledge of. So when Gonzaga had gone, in +obedience to Valentina's summons, the jester peered carefully over the +battlements. + +At first he saw nothing, and he was concluding with disappointment that +the thing Gonzaga had cast from him was lost in the torrential waters of +the moat. But presently, lodged on a jutting stone, above the foaming +stream into which it would seem that a miracle had prevented it from +falling, he espied a ball of crumpled paper. He observed with +satisfaction that it lay some ten feet immediately below the postern-gate +by the drawbridge. + +Secretly, for it was not Peppy's way to take men into his confidence +where it might be avoided, he got himself a coil of rope. Having +descended and quietly opened the postern, he made one end fast and +lowered the other to the water with extreme care, lest he should +dislodge, and so lose, that paper. + +Assuring himself again that he was unobserved, he went down, hand over +hand, like a monkey, his feet against the rough-hewn granite of the wall. +Then, with a little swinging of the rope, he brought himself nearer that +crumpled ball, his legs now dangling in the angry water, and by a mighty +stretch that all but precipitated him into the torrent, he seized the +paper and transferred it to his teeth. Then hand over hand again, and +with a frantic haste, for he feared observation not only from the castle +sentries but also from the watchers in the besieger's camp, he climbed +back to the postern, exulting in that he had gone unobserved, and +contemptuous for the vigilance of those that should have observed him. + +Softly he closed the wicket, locked it and shot home the bolts at top and +base, and went to replace the key on its nail in the guard-room, which he +found untenanted. Next, with that mysterious letter in his hand, he +scampered off across the courtyard and through the porch leading to the +domestic quarters, nor paused until he had gained the kitchen, where Fra +Domenico was roasting the quarter of a lamb that he had that morning +butchered. For now that the siege was established, there was no more +fish from the brook, nor hares and ortolans from the country-side. + +The friar cursed the fool roundly, as was his wont upon every occasion, +for he was none so holy that he disdained the milder forms of objurgatory +oaths. But Peppe for once had no vicious answer ready, a matter that led +the Dominican to ask him was he ill. + +Never heeding him, the fool unfolded and smoothed the crumpled paper in a +corner by the fire. He read it and whistled, then stuffed it into the +bosom of his absurd tunic. + +"What ails you?" quoth the friar. "What have you there?" + +"A recipe for a dish of friar's brains. A most rare delicacy, and +rendered costly by virtue of the scarcity of the ingredients." And with +that answer Peppe was gone, leaving the monk with an ugly look in his +eyes, and an unuttered imprecation on his tongue. + +Straight to the Count of Aquila went the fool with his letter. Francesco +read it, and questioned him closely as to what he knew of the manner in +which it had come into Gonzaga's possession. For the rest, those lines, +far from causing him the uneasiness Peppe expected, seemed a source of +satisfaction and assurance to him. + +"He offers a thousand gold florins," he muttered, "in addition to +Gonzaga's liberty and advancement. Why, then, I have said no more than +was true when I assured the men that Gian Maria was but idly threatening +us with bombardment. Keep this matter secret, Peppe." + +"But you will watch Messer Gonzaga?" quoth the fool. + +"Watch him? Why, where is the need? You do not imagine him so vile that +this offer could tempt him?" + +Peppe looked up, his great, whimsical face screwed into an expression of +cunning doubt. + +"You do not think, lord, that he invited it?" + +"Now, shame on you for that thought. Messer Gonzaga may be an idle lute- +thrummer, a poor-spirited coward; but a traitor----! And to betray Monna +Valentina! No, no." + +But the fool was far from reassured. He had had the longer acquaintance +of Messer Gonzaga, and his shrewd eyes had long since taken the man's +exact measure. Let Francesco scorn the notion of betrayal at Romeo's +hands; Peppe would dog him like a shadow. This he did for the remainder +of that day, clinging to Gonzaga as if he loved him dearly, and furtively +observing the man's demeanour. Yet he saw nothing to confirm his +suspicions beyond a certain preoccupied moodiness on the courtier's part. + +That night, as they supped, Gonzaga pleaded toothache, and with +Valentina's leave he quitted the table at the very outset of the meal. +Peppe rose to follow him, but as he reached the door, his natural enemy, +the friar--ever anxious to thwart him where he could--caught him by the +nape of the neck, and flung him unceremoniously back into the room. + +"Have you a toothache too, good-for-naught?" quoth the frate. "Stay you +here and help me to wait upon the company." + +"Let me go, good Fra Domenico," the fool whispered, in a voice so earnest +that the monk left his way clear. But Valentina's voice now bade him +stay with them, and so his opportunity was lost. + +He moved about the room a very dispirited, moody fool with no quip for +anyone, for his thoughts were all on Gonzaga and the treason that he was +sure he was hatching. Yet faithful to Francesco, who sat all +unconcerned, and not wishing to alarm Valentina, he choked back the +warning that rose to his lips, seeking to convince himself that his fears +sprang perhaps from an excess of suspicion. Had he known how well- +founded indeed they were he might have practised less self-restraint. + +For whilst he moved sullenly about the room, assisting Fra Domenico with +the dishes and platters, Gonzaga paced the ramparts beside Cappoccio, who +was on sentry duty on the north wall. + +His business called for no great diplomacy, nor did Gonzaga employ much. +He bluntly told Cappoccio that he and his comrades had allowed Messer +Francesco's glib tongue to befool them that morning, and that the +assurances Francesco had given them were not worthy of an intelligent +man's consideration. + +"I tell you, Cappoccio," he ended, "that to remain here and protract this +hopeless resistance will cost you your life at the unsavoury hands of the +hangman. You see I am frank with you." + +Now for all that what Gonzaga told him might sort excellently well with +the ideas he had himself entertained, Cappoccio was of a suspicious +nature, and his suspicions whispered to him now that Gonzaga was actuated +by some purpose he could not gauge. + +He stood still, and leaning with both hands upon his partisan, he sought +to make out the courtier's features in the dim light of the rising moon. + +"Do you mean," he asked, and in his voice sounded the surprise with which +Gonzaga's odd speech had filled him, "that we are foolish to have +listened to Messer Francesco, and that we should be better advised to +march out of Roccaleone?" + +"Yes; that is what I mean." + +"But why," he insisted, his surprise increasing, "do you urge such a +course upon us?" + +"Because, Cappoccio," was the plausible reply, "like yourselves, I was +lured into this business by insidious misrepresentations. The assurances +that I gave Fortemani, and with which he enrolled you into his service, +were those that had been given to me. I did not bargain with such a +death as awaits us here, and I frankly tell you that I have no stomach +for it." + +"I begin to understand," murmured Cappoccio, sagely wagging his head, and +there was a shrewd insolence in his tone and manner. "When we leave +Roccaleone you come with us?" + +Gonzaga nodded. + +"But why do you not say these things to Fortemani?" questioned Cappoccio, +still doubting. + +"Fortemani!" echoed Gonzaga. "By the Host, no! The man is bewitched by +that plausible rogue, Francesco. Far from resenting the fellow's +treatment of him, he follows and obeys his every word, like the mean- +spirited dog that he is." + +Again Cappoccio sought to scrutinise Gonzaga's face. But the light was +indifferent. + +"Are you dealing with me fairly?" he asked. "Or does some deeper purpose +lie under your wish that we should rebel against the lady?" + +"My friend," answered Gonzaga, "do you but wait until Gian Maria's herald +comes for his answer in the morning. Then you will learn again the terms +on which your lives are offered you. Do nothing until then. But when +you hear yourselves threatened with the rope and the wheel, bethink you +of what course you will be best advised in pursuing. You ask me what +purpose inspires me. I have already told you--for I am as open as the +daylight with you--that I am inspired by the purpose of saving my own +neck. Is not that purpose enough?" + +A laugh of such understanding as would have set a better man on fire with +indignation was the answer he received. + +"Why, yes, it is more than enough. To-morrow, then, my comrades and I +march out of Roccaleone. Count upon that." + +"But do not accept my word. Wait until the herald comes again. Do +nothing until you have heard the terms he brings." + +"Why, no, assuredly not." + +"And do not let it transpire among your fellows that it is I who have +suggested this." + +"Why no. I'll keep your secret," laughed the bravo offensively, +shouldering his partisan and resuming his sentinel's pacing. + +Gonzaga sought his bed. A fierce joy consumed him at having so +consummately planned Valentina's ruin, yet he did not wish to face her +again that night. + +But when on the morrow the herald wound his horn again beneath the castle +walls, Gonzaga was prominent in the little group that attended Monna +Valentina. The Count of Aquila was superintending the work to which he +had set a half-score of men. With a great show, and as much noise as +possible--by which Francesco intended that the herald should be +impressed--they were rolling forward four small culverins and some three +cannons of larger calibre, and planting them so that they made a menacing +show in the crenels of the parapet. + +Whilst watching and directing the men, he kept his ears open for the +message, and he heard the herald again recite the terms on which the +garrison might surrender, and again the threat to hang every man from the +castle-walls if they compelled him to reduce them by force of arms. He +brought his message to an end by announcing that in his extreme clemency +Gian Maria accorded them another half-hour's grace in which to resolve +themselves upon their course. Should the end of that time still find +them obstinate, the bombardment would commence. Such was the message +that in another of his arrow-borne letters Gonzaga had suggested Gian +Maria should send. + +It was Francesco who stepped forward to reply. He had been stooping over +one of the guns, as if to assure himself of the accuracy of its aim, and +as he rose he pronounced himself satisfied in a voice loud enough for the +herald's hearing. Then he advanced to Valentina's side, and whilst he +stood there delivering his answer he never noticed the silent departure +of the men from the wall. + +"You will tell his Highness of Babbiano," he replied, "that he reminds us +of the boy in the fable who cried 'Wolf!' too often. Tell him, sir, that +his threats leave this garrison as unmoved as do his promises. If so be +that he intends in truth to bombard us, let him begin forthwith. We are +ready for him, as you perceive. Maybe he did not suppose us equipped +with cannon; but there they stand. Those guns are trained upon his camp, +and the first shot he fires upon us shall be a signal for such a reply as +he little dreams of. Tell him, too, that we expect no quarter, and will +yield none. We are unwilling for bloodshed, but if he drives us to it +and executes his purpose of employing cannon, then the consequences be +upon his own head. Bear him that answer, and tell him to send you no +more with empty threats." + +The herald bowed upon the withers of his horse. The arrogance, the cold +imperiousness of the message struck him dumb with amazement. Amazement +was his, too, that Roccaleone should be armed with cannon, as with his +own eyes he saw. That those guns were empty he could not guess, nor +could Gian Maria when he heard a message that filled him with rage, and +would have filled him with dismay, but that he counted upon the mutiny +which Gonzaga had pledged himself to stir up. + +As the herald was riding away a gruff laugh broke from Fortemani, who +stood behind the Count. + +Valentina turned to Francesco with eyes that beamed admiration and a +singular tenderness. + +"Oh, what had I done without you, Messer Francesco?" she cried, for +surely the twentieth time since his coming. "I tremble to think how +things had gone without your wit and valour to assist me." She never +noticed the malicious smile that trembled on Gonzaga's pretty face. +"Where did you find the powder?" she asked innocently, for her mind had +not yet caught that humour of the situation that had drawn a laugh from +Fortemani. + +"I found none," answered Francesco, smiling from the shadow of his helm. +"My threats"--and he waved his hand in the direction of that formidable +array of guns--"are as empty as Gian Maria's. Yet I think they will +impress him more than his do us. I will answer for it, Madonna, that +they deter him from bombarding us--if so be that he ever intended to. So +let us go and break our fast with a glad courage." + +"Those guns are empty?" she gasped. "And you could talk so boldly and +threaten so defiantly!" + +Mirth crept now into her face, and thrust back the alarm, a little of +which had peeped from her eyes even as she was extolling Francesco. + +"There!" he cried joyously. "You are smiling now, Madonna. Nor have you +cause for aught else. Shall we descend? This early morning work has +given me the hunger of a wolf." + +She turned to go with him, and in that moment, Peppe, his owlish face +spread over with alarm, dashed up the steps from the courtyard. + +"Madonna!" he gasped, breathless. "Messer Francesco! The men-- +Cappoccio---- He is haranguing them. He--is inciting them to +treachery." + +So, in gasps, he got out his tale, which swept the mirth again from +Valentina's eyes, and painted very white her cheek. Strong and brave +though she was, she felt her senses swimming at that sudden revulsion +from confidence to fear. Was all indeed ended at the very moment when +hope had reached its high meridian? + +"You are faint, Madonna; lean on me." + +It was Gonzaga who spoke. But beyond the fact that the words had been +uttered, she realised nothing. She saw an arm advanced, and she took it. +Then she dragged Gonzaga with her to the side overlooking the courtyard, +that with her own eyes she might have evidence of what was toward. + +She heard an oath--a vigorous, wicked oath--from Francesco, followed by a +command, sharp and rasping. + +"To the armoury yonder, Peppe! Fetch me a two-handed sword--the stoutest +you can find. Ercole, come with me. Gonzaga---- Nay, you had best stay +here. See to Monna Valentina." + +He stepped to her side now, and rapidly surveyed the surging scene below, +where Cappoccio was still addressing the men. At sight of Francesco, +they raised a fierce yell, as might a pack of dogs that have sighted +their quarry. + +"To the gates!" was the shout. "Down the drawbridge! We accept the +terms of Gian Maria. We will not die like rats." + +"By God, but you shall, if I so will it!" snarled Francesco through his +set teeth. Then turning his head in a fever of impatience "Peppe," he +shouted, "will you never bring that sword?" + +The fool came up at that moment, staggering under the weight of a great, +double-edged two-hander, equipped with lugs, and measuring a good six +feet from point to pummel. Francesco caught it from him, and bending, he +muttered a swift order in Peppino's ear. + +"...In the box that stands upon the table in my chamber," Gonzaga +overheard him say. "Now go, and bring it to me in the yard. Speed you, +Peppino!" + +A look of understanding flashed up from the hunchback's eyes, and as he +departed at a run Francesco hoisted the mighty sword to his shoulder as +though its weight were that of a feather. In that instant Valentina's +white hand was laid upon the brassart that steeled his fore-arm. + +"What will you do?" she questioned, in a whisper, her eyes dilating with +alarm. + +"Stem the treachery of that rabble," he answered shortly. "Stay you +here, Madonna. Fortemani and I will pacify them--or make an end of +them." And so grimly did he say it that Gonzaga believed it to lie +within his power. + +"But you are mad!" she cried, and the fear in her eyes increased. "What +can you do against twenty?" + +"What God pleases," he answered, and for a second put the ferocity from +his heart that he might smile reassurance. + +"But you will be killed," she cried. "Oh! don't go, don't go! Let them +have their way, Messer Francesco. Let Gian Maria invest the castle. I +care not, so that you do not go." + +Her voice, and the tale it told of sweet anxiety for his fate overruling +everything else in that moment--even her horror of Gian Maria--quickened +his blood to the pace of ecstasy. He was taken by a wild longing to +catch her in his arms--this lady hitherto so brave and daunted now by the +fear of his peril only. Every fibre of his being urged him to gather her +to his breast, whilst he poured courage and comfort into her ear. He +fainted almost with desire to kiss those tender eyes, upturned to his in +her piteous pleading that he should not endanger his own life. But +suppressing all, he only smiled, though very tenderly. + +"Be brave, Madonna, and trust in me a little. Have I failed you yet? +Need you then fear that I shall fail you now?" + +At that she seemed to gather courage. The words reawakened her +confidence in his splendid strength. + +"We shall laugh over this when we break our fast," he cried. "Come, +Ercole!" And without waiting for more, he leapt down the steps with an +agility surprising in one so heavily armed as he. + +They were no more than in time. As they gained the courtyard the men +came sweeping along towards the gates, their voices raucous and +threatening. They were full of assurance. All hell they thought could +not have hindered them, and yet at sight of that tall figure, bright as +an angel, in his panoply of glittering steel, with that great sword +poised on his left shoulder, some of the impetuousness seemed to fall +from them. + +Still they advanced, Cappoccio's voice shouting encouragement. Almost +were they within range of that lengthy sword, when of a sudden it flashed +from his shoulder, and swept a half-circle of dazzling light before their +eyes. Round his head it went, and back again before them, handled as +though it had been a whip, and bringing them, silent, to a standstill. +He bore it back to his shoulder, and alert for the first movement, his +blood on fire, and ready to slay a man or two should the example become +necessary, he addressed them. + +"You see what awaits you if you persist in this," he said, in a +dangerously quiet voice. "Have you no shame, you herd of cowardly +animals! You are loud-voiced enough where treason to the hand that pays +you is in question; but there, it seems, your valour ends." + +He spoke to them now in burning words. He recapitulated the arguments +which yesterday he had made use of to quell the mutinous spirit of +Cappoccio. He assured them that Gian Maria threatened more than he could +accomplish; and so, perhaps, more than he would fulfil if they were so +foolish as to place themselves in his power. Their safety, he pointed +out to them, lay here, behind these walls. The siege could not long +endure. They had a stout ally in Caesar Borgia, and he was marching upon +Babbiano by then, so that Gian Maria must get him home perforce ere long. +Their pay was good, he reminded them, and if the siege were soon raised +they should be well rewarded. + +"Gian Maria threatens to hang you when he captures Roccaleone. But even +should he capture it, do you think he would be allowed to carry out so +inhuman a threat? You are mercenaries, after all, in the pay of Monna +Valentina, on whom and her captains the blame must fall. This is Urbino, +not Babbiano, and Gian Maria is not master here. Do you think the noble +and magnanimous Guidobaldo would let you hang? Have you so poor an +opinion of your Duke? Fools! You are as safe from violence as are those +ladies in the gallery up there. For Guidobaldo would no more think of +harming you than of permitting harm to come to them. If any hanging +there is it will be for me, and perhaps for Messer Gonzaga who hired you. +Yet, do I talk of throwing down my arms? What think you holds me here? +Interest--just as interest holds you--and if I think the risk worth +taking, why should not you? Are you so tame and so poor-spirited that a +threat is to vanquish you? Will you become a byword in Italy, and when +men speak of cowardice, will you have them say: 'Craven as Monna +Valentina's garrison'?" + +In this strain he talked to them, now smiting hard with his scorn, now +cajoling them with his assurances, and breeding confidence anew in their +shaken spirits. It was a thing that went afterwards to the making of an +epic that was sung from Calabria to Piedmont, how this brave knight, by +his words, by the power of his will and the might of his presence, curbed +and subdued that turbulent score of rebellious hinds. + +And from the wall above Valentina watched him, her eyes sparkling with +tears that had not their source in sorrow nor yet in fear, for she knew +that he must prevail. How could it be else with one so dauntless? + +Thus thought she now. But in the moment of his going, fear had chilled +her to the heart, and when she first saw him take his stand before them, +she had turned half-distraught, and begged Gonzaga not to linger at her +side, but to go lend what aid he could to that brave knight who stood so +sorely in need of it. And Gonzaga had smiled a smile as pale as January +sunshine, and his soft blue eyes had hardened in their glance. Not +weakness now was it that held him there, well out of the dangerous +turmoil. For he felt that had he possessed the strength of Hercules, and +the courage of Achilles, he would not in that instant have moved a step +to Francesco's aid. And as much he told her. + +"Why should I, Madonna?" he had returned coldly. "Why should I raise a +hand to help the man whom you prefer to me? Why should I draw sword in +the cause of this fortress?" + +She looked at him with troubled eyes. "What are you saying, my good +Gonzaga?" + +"Aye--your good Gonzaga!" he mocked her bitterly. "Your lap-dog, your +lute-thrummer; but not man enough to be your captain; not man enough to +earn a thought that is kinder than any earned by Peppe or your hounds. I +may endanger my neck to serve you, to bring you hither to a place of +safety from Gian Maria's persecution, and be cast aside for one who, it +happens, has a little more knowledge of this coarse trade of arms. Cast +me aside if you will," he pursued, with increasing bitterness, "but +having done so, do not ask me to serve you again. Let Messer Francesco +fight it out----" + +"Hush, Gonzaga!" she interrupted. "Let me hear what he is saying." + +And her tone told the courtier that his words had been lost upon the +morning air. Engrossed in the scene below she had not so much as +listened to his bitter tirade. For now Francesco was behaving oddly. +The fool was returned from the errand on which he had been despatched, +and Francesco called him to his side. Lowering his sword he received a +paper from Peppe's hand. + +Burning with indignation at having gone unheeded, Gonzaga stood gnawing +his lip, whilst Valentina craned forward to catch Francesco's words. + +"I have here a proof," he cried, "of what I tell you; proof of how little +Gian Maria is prepared to carry out his threats of cannon. It is that +fellow Cappoccio has seduced you with his talk. And you, like the sheep +you are, let yourselves be driven by his foul tongue. Now listen to the +bribe that Gian Maria offers to one within these walls if he can contrive +a means to deliver Roccaleone into his hands." And to Gonzaga's +paralysing consternation, he heard Francesco read the letter with which +Gian Maria had answered his proposed betrayal of the fortress. He went +white with fear and he leant against the low wall to steady the tell-tale +trembling that had seized him. Then Francesco's voice, scornful and +confident, floated up to his ears. "I ask you, my friends, would his +Highness of Babbiano be disposed to the payment of a thousand gold +florins if by bombardment he thought to break a way into Roccaleone? +This letter was written yesterday. Since then we have made a brave +display of cannon ourselves; and if yesterday he dared not fire, think +you he will to-day? But here, assure yourselves, if there is one amongst +you that can read." + +He held out the letter to them. Cappoccio took it, and calling one +Aventano, he held it out in his turn. This Aventano, a youth who had +been partly educated for the Church, but had fallen from that lofty +purpose, now stood forward and took the letter. He scrutinised it, read +it aloud, and pronounced it genuine. + +"Whom is it addressed to?" demanded Cappoccio. + +"Nay, nay!" cried Francesco. "What need for that?" + +"Let be," Cappoccio answered, almost fiercely. "If you would have us +remain in Roccaleone, let be. Aventano, tell me." + +"To Messer Romeo Gonzaga," answered the youth, in a voice of wonder. + +So evil a light leapt to Cappoccio's eye that Francesco carried his free +hand to the sword which he had lowered. But Cappoccio only looked up at +Gonzaga, and grinned malevolently. It had penetrated his dull wits that +he had been the tool of a judas, who sought to sell the castle for a +thousand florins. Further than that Cappoccio did not see; nor was he +very resentful, and his grin was rather of mockery than of anger. He was +troubled by no lofty notions of honour that should cause him to see in +this deed of Gonzaga's anything more than such a trickster's act as it is +always agreeable to foil. And then, to the others, who knew naught of +what was passing in Cappoccio's mind, he did a mighty strange thing. +From being the one to instigate them to treachery and mutiny, he was the +one now to raise his voice in a stout argument of loyalty. He agreed +with all that Messer Francesco had said, and he, for one, ranged himself +on Messer Francesco's side to defend the gates from any traitors who +sought to open them to Gian Maria Sforza. + +His defection from the cause of mutiny was the signal for the utter +abandoning of that cause itself, and another stout ally came opportunely +to weigh in Francesco's favour was the fact that the half-hour of grace +was now elapsed, and Gian Maria's guns continued silent. He drew their +attention to the fact with a laugh, and bade them go in peace, adding the +fresh assurance that those guns would not speak that day, nor the next, +nor indeed ever. + +Utterly conquered by Francesco and--perhaps even more--by his unexpected +ally, Cappoccio, they slunk shamefacedly away to the food and drink that +he bade them seek at Fra Domenico's hands. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE LOVERS + + +"How came that letter to your hands?" Valentina asked Gonzaga, when +presently they stood together in the courtyard, whither the courtier had +followed her when she descended. + +"Wrapped round an arbalest-bolt that fell on the ramparts yesterday +whilst I was walking there alone," returned Gonzaga coolly. + +He had by now regained his composure. He saw that stood in deadly peril, +and the very fear that possessed him seemed, by an odd paradox, to lend +him the strength to play his part. + +Valentina eyed him with a something of mistrust in her glance. But on +Francesco's clear countenance no shadow of suspicion showed. His eyes +almost smiled as he asked Gonzaga: + +"Why did you not bear it to Monna Valentina?" + +A flush reddened the courtier's cheeks. He shrugged his shoulders +impatiently, and in a voice that choked with anger he delivered his +reply. + +"To you, sir, who seem bred in camps and reared in guard-rooms, the +fulness of this insult offered me by Gian Maria may not be apparent. It +may not be yours to perceive that the very contact of that letter soiled +my hands, that it shamed me unutterably to think that that loutish Duke +should have deemed me a target for such a shaft. It were idle, +therefore, to seek to make you understand how little I could bear to +submit to the further shame of allowing another to see the affront that I +was powerless to avenge. I did, sir, with that letter the only thing +conceivable. I crumpled it in my hand and cast it from me, just as I +sought to cast its contents from my mind. But your watchful spies, Ser +Francesco, bore it to you, and if my shame has been paraded before the +eyes of that rabble soldiery, at least it has served the purpose of +saving Monna Valentina. To do that, I would, if the need arose, immolate +more than the pride that caused me to be silent on the matter of this +communication." + +He spoke with such heat of sincerity that he convinced both Francesco and +Valentina, and the lady's eyes took on a softer expression as she +surveyed Gonzaga--this poor Gonzaga whom, her heart told her, she had +sorely wronged in thought. Francesco, ever generous, took his passionate +utterances in excellent part. + +"Messer Gonzaga, I understand your scruples. You do me wrong to think +that I should fail in that." + +He checked the suggestion he was on the point of renewing that, +nevertheless, Gonzaga would have been better advised to have laid that +letter at once before Monna Valentina. Instead, he dismissed the subject +with a laugh, and proposed that they should break their fast so soon as +he had put off his harness. + +He went to do so, whilst Valentina bent her steps towards the dining- +room, attended by Gonzaga, to whom she now sought to make amends for her +suspicions by an almost excessive friendliness of bearing. + +But there was one whom Gonzaga's high-sounding words in connection with +that letter had left cold. This was Peppe, that most wise of fools. He +hastened after Francesco, and while the knight was disarming he came to +voice his suspicions. But Francesco drove him out with impatience, and +Peppe went sorrowing and swearing that the wisdom of the fool was truly +better than the folly of the wise. + +Throughout that day Gonzaga hardly stirred from Valentina's side. He +talked with her in the morning at great length and upon subjects poetical +or erudite, by which he meant to display his vast mental superiority over +the swashbuckling Francesco. In the evening, when the heat of the day +was spent, and whilst that same Messer Francesco was at some defensive +measures on the walls, Gonzaga played at bowls with Valentina and her +ladies--the latter having now recovered from the panic to which earlier +they had been a prey. + +That morning Gonzaga had stood at bay, seeing his plans crumble. That +evening, after the day spent in Valentina's company--and she so sweet and +kind to him--he began to take heart of grace once more, and his volatile +mind whispered to his soul the hope that, after all, things might well be +as he had first intended, if he but played his cards adroitly, and did +not mar his chances by the precipitancy that had once gone near to losing +him. His purpose gathered strength from a message that came that evening +from Gian Maria, who was by then assured that Gonzaga's plan had failed. +He sent word that, being unwilling to provoke the bloodshed threatened by +the reckless madman who called himself Monna Valentina's Provost, he +would delay the bombardment, hoping that in the meantime hunger would +beget in that rebellious garrison a more submissive mood. + +Francesco read the message to Madonna's soldiers, and they received it +joyously. Their confidence in him increased a hundredfold by this proof +of the accuracy of his foresight. They were a gay company at supper in +consequence, and gayest of all was Messer Gonzaga, most bravely dressed +in a purple suit of taby silk to honour so portentous an occasion. + +Francesco was the first to quit the table, craving Monna Valentina's +leave to be about some duty that took him to the walls. She let him go, +and afterwards sat pensive, nor heeded now Romeo's light chatter, nor yet +the sonnet of Petrarca that presently he sang the company. Her thoughts +were all with him that had left the board. Scarcely a word had she +exchanged with Francesco since that delirious moment when they had looked +into each other's eyes upon the ramparts, and seen the secret that each +was keeping from the other. Why had he not come to her? she asked +herself. And then she bethought her of how Gonzaga had all day long been +glued to her side, and she realised, too, that it was she had shunned +Francesco's company, grown of a sudden strangely shy. + +But greater than her shyness was now her desire to be near him, and to +hear his voice; to have him look again upon her as he had looked that +morning, when in terror for him she had sought to dissuade him from +opposing the craven impulse of her men-at-arms. A woman of mature age, +or one riper in experience, would have waited for him to seek her out. +But Valentina, in her sweet naturalness, thought never of subterfuge or +of dalliant wiles. She rose quietly from the table ere Gonzaga's song +was done, and as quietly she slipped from the room. + +It was a fine night, the air heavy with the vernal scent of fertile +lands, and the deep cobalt of the heavens a glittering, star-flecked dome +in a lighter space of which floated the half-disk of the growing moon. +Such a moon, she bethought her, as she had looked at with thoughts of +him, the night after their brief meeting at Acquasparta. She had gained +that north rampart on which he had announced that duty took him, and +yonder she saw a man---the only tenant of the wall--leaning upon the +embattled parapet, looking down at the lights of Gian Maria's camp. He +was bareheaded, and by the gold coif that gleamed in his hair she knew +him. Softly she stole up behind him. + +"Do we dream here, Messer Francesco?" she asked him, as she reached his +side, and there was laughter running through her words. + +He started round at the sound of her voice, then he laughed too, softly +and gladly. + +"It is a night for dreams, and I was dreaming indeed. But you have +scattered them." + +"You grieve me," she rallied him. "For assuredly they were pleasant, +since, to come here and indulge them, you left--us." + +"Aye--they were pleasant," he answered. "And yet, they were fraught with +a certain sadness, but idle as is the stuff of dreams. They were yours +to dispel, for they were of you." + +"Of me?" she questioned, her heart-beats quickening and bringing to her +cheeks a flush that she thanked the night for concealing. + +"Yes, Madonna--of you and our first meeting in the woods at Acquasparta. +Do you recall it?" + +"I do, I do," she murmured fondly. + +"And do you recall how I then swore myself your knight and ever your +champion? Little did we dream how the honour that I sighed for was to be +mine." + +She made him no answer, her mind harking back to that first meeting on +which so often and so fondly she had pondered. + +"I was thinking, too," he said presently, "of that man Gian Maria in the +plain yonder, and of this shameful siege." + +"You--you have no misgivings?" she faltered, for his words had +disappointed her a little. + +"Misgivings?" + +"For being here with me. For being implicated in what they call my +rebellion?" + +He laughed softly, his eyes upon the silver gleam of waters below. + +"My misgivings are all for the time when this siege shall be ended; when +you and I shall have gone each our separate way," he answered boldly. He +turned to face her now, and his voice rang a little tense. "But for +being here to guide this fine resistance and lend you the little aid I +can---- No, no, I have no misgiving for that. It is the dearest frolic +ever my soldiering led me into. I came to Roccaleone with a message of +warning; but underneath, deep down in my heart, I bore the hope that mine +should be more than a messenger's part; that mine it might be to remain +by you and do such work as I am doing." + +"Without you they would have forced me by now to surrender." + +"Perhaps they would. But while I am here I do not think they will. I +burn for news of Babbiano. If I could but tell what is happening there I +might cheer you with the assurance that this siege can last but a few +days longer. Gian Maria must get him home or submit to the loss of his +throne. And if he loses that your uncle would no longer support so +strenuously his suit with you. To you, Madonna, this must be a cheering +thought. To me--alas! Why should I hope for it?" + +He was looking away now into the night, but his voice quivered with the +emotion that was in him. She was silent, and emboldened perhaps by that +silence of hers, encouraged by the memory of what he had seen that +morning reflected in her eyes: + +"Madonna," he cried, "I would it might be mine to cut a road for you +through that besieging camp, and bear you away to some blessed place +where there are neither courts nor princes. But since this may not be, +Madonna mia, I would that this siege might last for ever." + +And then--was it the night breeze faintly stirring through his hair that +mocked him with the whisper, "So indeed would I?" He turned to her, his +hand, brown and nervous, fell upon hers, ivory-white, where it rested on +the stone. + +"Valentina!" he cried, his voice no louder than a whisper, his eyes +ardently seeking her averted ones. And then, as suddenly as it had leapt +up, was the fire in his glance extinguished. He withdrew his hand from +hers, he sighed, and shifted his gaze to the camp once more. "Forgive, +forget, Madonna," he murmured bitterly, "that which in my madness I have +presumed." + +Silent she stood for a long moment; then she edged nearer to him, and her +voice murmured back: "What if I account it no presumption?" + +With a gasp he swung round to face her, and they stood very close, glance +holding glance, and hers the less timid of the two. They thus remained +for a little space. Then shaking his head and speaking with an infinite +sadness: + +"It were better that you did, Madonna," he made answer. + +"Better? But why?" + +"Because I am no duke, Madonna." + +"And what of that?" she cried, to add with scorn: "Out yonder sits a +duke. Oh, sir, how shall I account presumptuous in you the very words +that I would hear? What does your rank signify to me? I know you for +the truest knight, the noblest gentleman, and the most valiant friend +that ever came to the aid of distressed maiden. Do you forget the very +principles that have led me to make this resistance? That I am a woman, +and ask of life no more than is a woman's due--and no less." + +There she stopped; again the blood suffused her cheeks as she bethought +her of how fast she talked, and of how bold her words might sound. She +turned slightly from him, and leant now upon the parapet, gazing out into +the night. And as she stood thus, a very ardent voice it was that +whispered in her ear: + +"Valentina, by my soul, I love you!" And there that whisper, which +filled her with an ecstasy that was almost painful in its poignancy, +ended sharply as if throttled. Again his hand sought hers, which was +yielded to him as she would have yielded her whole life at his sweet +bidding, and now his voice came less passionately. + +"Why delude ourselves with cruel hopes, my Valentina?" he was saying. +"There is the future. There is the time when this siege shall be done +with, and when, Gian Maria having got him home, you will be free to +depart. Whither will you go?" + +She looked at him as if she did not understand the question, and her eyes +were troubled, although in such light as there was he could scarce see +this. + +"I will go whither you bid me. Where else have I to go?" she added, with +a note of bitterness. + +He started. Her answer was so far from what he had expected. + +"But your uncle----?" + +"What duty do I owe to him? Oh, I have thought of it, and until--until +this morning, it seemed that a convent must be my ultimate refuge. I +have spent most of my young life at Santa Sofia, and the little that I +have seen of the world at my uncle's court scarce invites me to see more +of it. The Mother Abbess loved me a little. She would take me back, +unless----" + +She broke off and looked at him, and before that look of absolute and +sweet surrender his senses swam. That she was niece to the Duke of +Urbino he remembered no more than that he was Count of Aquila, well-born, +but of none too rich estate, and certainly no more a match for her in +Guidobaldo's eyes than if he had been the simple knight-errant that he +seemed. + +He moved closer to her, his hands--as if obeying a bidding greater than +his will, the bidding of that glance of hers, perhaps--took her by the +shoulders, whilst his whole soul looked at her from his eyes. Then, with +a stifled cry, he caught her to him. For a moment she lay, palpitant, +within his arms, her tall, bronze head on a level with his chin, her +heart beating against his heart. Stooping suddenly, he kissed her on the +lips. She suffered it with an unresistance that invited. But when it +was done, she gently put him from her; and he, obedient to her slightest +wish, curbed the wild ardour of his mood, and set her free. + +"Anima mia!" he cried rapturously. "You are mine now, betide what may. +Not Gian Maria nor all the dukes in Christendom shall take you from me." + +She set her hand upon his lips to silence him, and he kissed the palm, so +that laughing she drew back again. And now from laughter she passed to a +great solemnity, and with arm outstretched towards the ducal camp: "Win +me a way through those lines," said she, "and bear me away from Urbino-- +far away where Guidobaldo's power and the vengeance of Gian Maria may not +follow us--and you shall have won me for your own. But until then, let +there be a truce to--to this, between us. Here is a man's work to be +done, and if I am weak as to-night, I may weaken you, and then we should +both be undone. It is upon your strength I count, Franceschino mio, my +true knight." + +He would have answered her. He had much to tell her--who and what he +was. But she pointed to the head of the steps, where a man's figure +loomed. + +"Yonder comes the sentinel," she said. "Leave me now, dear Francesco. +Go. It is growing late." + +He bowed low before her, obedient ever, like the true knight he was, and +took his leave of her, his soul on fire. + +Valentina watched his retreating figure until it had vanished round the +angle of the wall. Then with a profound sigh, that was as a prayer of +thanksgiving for this great good that had come into her life, she leaned +upon the parapet and looked out into the darkness, her cheeks flushed, +her heart still beating high. She laughed softly to herself out of the +pure happiness of her mood. The camp of Gian Maria became a subject for +her scorn. What should his might avail whilst she had such a champion to +defend her now and hereafter? + +There was an irony in that siege on which her fancy fastened. By coming +thus in arms against her Gian Maria sought to win her for his wife; yet +all that he had accomplished was to place her in the arms of the one man +whom she had learnt to love by virtue of this very siege. The mellow +warmth of the night, the ambient perfume of the fields were well-sorted +to her mood, and the faint breeze that breathed caressingly upon her +cheek seemed to re-echo the melodies her heart was giving forth. In that +hour those old grey walls of Roccaleone seemed to enclose for her a very +paradise, and the snatch of an old love song stole softly from her parted +lips. But like a paradise--alas!--it had its snake that crept up unheard +behind her, and was presently hissing in her ear. And its voice was the +voice of Romeo Gonzaga. + +"It comforts me, Madonna, that there is one, at least, in Roccaleone has +the heart to sing." + +Startled out of her happy pensiveness by that smooth and now unutterably +sinister voice, she turned to face its owner. + +She saw the white gleam of his face and something of the anger that +smouldered in his eye, and despite herself a thrill of alarm ran through +her like a shudder. She looked beyond him to a spot where lately she had +seen the sentry. There was no one there nor anywhere upon that wall. +They were alone, and Messer Gonzaga looked singularly evil. + +For a moment there was a tense silence, broken only by the tumbling +waters of the torrent-moat and the hoarse challenge of a sentry's "Chi va +lŕ?" in Gian Maria's camp. Then she turned nervously, wondering how much +he might have heard of what had passed between herself and Francesco, how +much have seen. + +"And yet, Gonzaga," she answered him, "I left you singing below when I +came away." + +"--To wanton it here in the moonlight with that damned swashbuckler, that +brigand, that kennel-bred beast of a sbirro!" + +"Gonzaga! You would dare!" + +"Dare?" he mocked her, beside himself with passion. "Is it you who speak +of daring--you, the niece of Guidobaldo da Montefeltro, a lady of the +noble and illustrious house of Rovere, who cast yourself into the arms of +a low-born vassal such as that, a masnadiero, a bandit, a bravo? And can +you yet speak of daring, and take that tone with me, when shame should +strike you either dead or dumb?" + +"Gonzaga," she answered him, her face as white as his own, but her voice +steady and hard with anger, "leave me now--upon the instant, or I will +have you flogged--flogged to the bone." + +A moment he stared at her like a man dazed. Then he tossed his arms to +Heaven, and letting them fall heavily to his sides, he shrugged his +shoulders and laughed evilly. But of going he made no shift. + +"Call your men," he answered her, in a choking voice. "Do your will on +me. Flog me to the bone or to the death--let that be the reward of all +that I have done, all that I have risked, all that I have sacrificed to +serve you. It were of a piece with your other actions." + +Her eyes sought his in the gloom, her bosom heaving wildly in her +endeavours to master herself before she spoke. + +"Messer Gonzaga," said she at last, "I'll not deny that you served me +faithfully in the matter of my escape from Urbino----" + +"Why speak of it?" he sneered. "It was a service of which you but avail +yourself until another offered on whom you might bestow your favour and +the supreme command of your fortress. Why speak of it?" + +"To show you that the service you allude to is now paid," she riposted +sternly. "By reproaching me you have taken payment, and by insulting me +you have stamped out my gratitude." + +"A most convenient logic yours," he mocked. "I am cast aside like an +outworn garment, and the garment is accounted paid for because through +much hard usage it has come to look a little threadbare." + +And now it entered her mind that perhaps there was some justice in what +he said. Perhaps she had used him a little hardly. + +"Do you think, Gonzaga," she said, and her tone was now a shade more +gentle, "that because you have served me you may affront me, and that +knight who has served me, also, and----" + +"In what can such service as his compare with mine? What has he done +that I have not done more?" + +"Why, when the men rebelled here----" + +"Bah! Cite me not that. Body of God! it is his trade to lead such +swine. He is one of themselves. But for the rest, what has such a man +as this to lose by his share in your rebellion, compared with such a loss +as mine must be?" + +"Why, if things go ill, I take it he may lose his life," she answered, in +a low voice. "Can you lose more?" + +He made a gesture of impatience. + +"If things go ill--yes. It may cost him dearly. But if they go well, +and this siege is raised, he has nothing more to fear. Mine is a parlous +case. However ends this siege, for me there will be no escape from the +vengeance of Gian Maria and Guidobaldo. They know my share in it. They +know that your action was helped by me, and that without me you could +never have equipped yourself for such resistance. Whatever may betide +you and this Ser Franceseo, for me there will be no escape." + +She drew a deep breath, then set him the obvious question: + +"Did you not consider it--did you not weigh these chances--before you +embarked upon this business, before you, yourself, urged me to this +step?" + +"Aye, did I," he answered sullenly. + +"Then, why these complaints now?" + +He was singularly, madly frank with her in his reply. He told her that +he had done it because he loved her, because she had given him signs that +his love was not in vain. + +"I gave you signs?" she interrupted him. "Mother in Heaven! Recite +these signs that I may know them." + +"Were you not ever kind to me?" he demanded. "Did you not ever manifest +a liking for my company? Were you not ever pleased that I should sing to +you the songs that in your honour I had made? Was it not to me you +turned in the hour of your need?" + +"See now how poor a thing you are, Gonzaga?" she answered witheringly. +"A woman may not smile on you, may not give you a kind word, may not +suffer you to sing to her, but you must conclude she is enamoured of you. +And if I turned to you in my hour of need, as you remind me, needs that +be a sign of my infatuation? Does every cavalier so think when a +helpless woman turns to him in her distress? But even so," she +continued, "how should all that diminish the peril you now talk of? Even +were your suit with me to prosper, would that make you any the less Romeo +Gonzaga, the butt of the anger of my uncle and Gian Maria? Rather do I +think that it should make you more." + +But he disillusioned her. He did not scruple, in his angry mood, to lay +before her his reasonings that as her husband he would be screened. + +She laughed aloud at that. + +"And so it is by such sophistries as these that your presumption came to +life?" + +That stung him. Quivering with the passion that obsessed him, he stepped +close up to her. + +"Tell me, Madonna--why shall we account presumption in Romeo Gonzaga a +suit that in a nameless adventurer we encourage?" he asked, his voice +thick and tremulous. + +"Have a care," she bade him. + +"A care of what?" he flashed back. "Answer me, Monna Valentina. Am I so +base a man that by the very thought of love for you I must presume, +whilst you can give yourself into the arms of this swashbuckling bravo, +and take his kisses? Your reasoning sorts ill with your deeds." + +"Craven!" she answered him. "Dog that you are!" And before the blaze of +passion in her eyes he recoiled, his courage faltering. She cropped her +anger in mid-career, and in a dangerously calm voice she bade him see to +it that by morning he was no longer in Roccaleone. "Profit by the +night," she counselled him, "and escape the vigilance of Gian Maria as +best you can. Here you shall not stay." + +At that a great fear took possession of him, putting to flight the last +remnant of his anger. Nor fear alone was it, to do him full justice. It +was also the realisation that if he would take payment from her for this +treatment of him, if he would slake his vengeance, he must stay. One +plan had failed him. But his mind was fertile, and he might devise +another that might succeed and place Gian Maria in Roccaleone. Thus +should he be amply venged. She was turning away, having pronounced his +banishment, but he sprang after her, and upon his knees he now besought +her piteously to hear him yet awhile. + +And she, regretting her already of her harshness, and thinking that +perhaps in his jealousy he had been scarce responsible for what he had +said, stood still to hear him. + +"Not that, not that, Madonna," he wailed, his tone suggesting the +imminence of tears. "Do not send me away. If die I must, let me die +here at Roccaleone, helping the defence to my last breath. But do not +cast me out to fall into the hands of Gian Maria. He will hang me for my +share in this business. Do not requite me thus, Madonna. You owe me a +little, surely, and if I was mad when I talked to you just now, it was +love of you that drove me--love of you and suspicion of that man of whom +none of us know anything. Madonna, be pitiful a little. Suffer me to +remain." + +She looked down at him, her mind swayed between pity and contempt. Then +pity won the day in the wayward but ever gentle heart of Valentina. She +bade him rise. + +"And go, Gonzaga. Get you to bed, and sleep you into a saner frame of +mind. We will forget all this that you have said, so that you never +speak of it again--nor of this love you say you bear me." + +The hypocrite caught the hem of her cloak, and bore it to his lips. + +"May God keep your heart ever as pure and noble and forgiving," he +murmured brokenly. "I know how little I am deserving of your clemency. +But I shall repay you, Madonna," he protested--and truly meant it, though +not in the sense it seemed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE PENITENT + + +A week passed peacefully at Roccaleone; so peacefully that it was +difficult to conceive that out there in the plain sat Gian Maria with his +five-score men besieging them. + +This inaction fretted the Count of Aquila, as did the lack of news from +Fanfulla; and he wondered vaguely what might be taking place at Babbiano +that Gian Maria should be content to sit idly before them, as though he +had months at his disposal in which to starve them into yielding. The +mystery would have been dispelled had he known that he had Gonzaga to +thank for this singular patience of Gian Maria's. For the courtier had +found occasion to send another letter-carrying shaft into the Duke's +camp, informing him of how and why the last plot had failed, and urging +Gian Maria to wait and trust in him to devise a better scheme for +delivering the castle into his power. He had promised boldly and +confidently enough, and Gian Maria--facts showed--had trusted to that +promise of his, and awaited its fulfilment. But tax his mind though he +did incessantly, no inspiration came to him, no scheme suggested itself +by which he might accomplish his treacherous purpose. + +He employed the time cunningly to win back Valentina's favour and +confidence. On the morning after his stormy interview with Guidobaldo's +niece, he had confessed himself to Fra Domenico, and approached the +Sacrament. Every morning thereafter he appeared at Mass, and by the +piety and fervour of his devotions became an example to all the others. +Now this was not lost on Valentina, who was convent-bred, and in a +measure devout. She read in this singular alteration of his ways the +undoubtable indication of an altered character. That he had approached +the Sacrament on the morning after his wild words to her, she took to +mean that he repented him the viciousness of the animosity he had +entertained that he continued so extremely devout thereafter she +construed into meaning that his repentance was sincere and persistent. + +And so she came to ask herself whether, indeed, he had not been as much +sinned against as sinning, and she ended by assuring herself that in a +measure the fault was hers. Seeing him so penitent, and concluding from +it that he was not likely to transgress again, she readmitted him to her +favour, and, little by little, the old friendly state was re-established +and was the sounder, perhaps, by virtue of her confidence that after what +had passed he would not again misunderstand her. + +He did not, nor did he again allow his optimism and ever-ready vanity to +cozen him with false hopes. He read her with exact precision, and whilst +the reading but served to embitter him the more and render him more +steadfast in his vengeful purpose, it, nevertheless, made him smile the +more sweetly and fawn the more obsequiously. + +And not content with this, he did not limit his sycophancy to Valentina, +but sought also by a smiling persistence to ingratiate himself with +Francesco. No voice in Roccaleone--not even that of the bully Ercole-- +was raised more often or more enthusiastically to praise and glorify +their Provost. Valentina, observing this, and accepting it as another +sign of his contrition for the past and purpose of amendment for the +future, grew yet more cordial towards him. He was not lacking in +astuteness, this pretty Ser Romeo, nor in knowledge of a woman's heart, +and the apprehension of the fact that there is no flattery she prefers to +that which has for object the man she loves. + +Thus did Gonzaga conquer the confidence and esteem of all during that +peaceful week. He seemed a changed man, and all save Peppe saw in this +change a matter for increased trust and friendship towards him. But the +astute fool looked on and pondered. Such transformations as these were +not effected in a night. He was no believer in any human chrysalis that +shall make of the grub of yesterday the butterfly of to-day. And so, in +this fawning, smiling, subservient Gonzaga, he saw nothing but an object +of mistrust, a fellow to be watched with the utmost vigilance. To this +vigilance the hunchback applied himself with a zeal born of his cordial +detestation of the courtier. But Gonzaga, aware of the fool's mistrust +and watchfulness, contrived for once to elude him, and to get a letter to +Gian Maria setting forth the ingenious plan he had hatched. + +The notion had come to him that Sunday at Mass. On all sanctified days +it was Monna Valentina's way to insist that the entire garrison, with the +exception of one single sentinel--and this only at Francesco's very +earnest urging--should attend the morning service. Like an inspiration +it came to him that such a half-hour as that would be a most opportune +season in which to throw open the gates of Roccaleone to the besiegers. +The following Wednesday was the feast of Corpus Christi. Then would be +his opportunity. + +Kneeling there, with head bent in ecstatic devotion, he matured his +treacherous plan. The single sentry he could suborn, or else--if bribery +failed--poniard. He realised that single-handed he might not lower the +cumbrous drawbridge, nor would it be wise, even if possible, for the +noise of it might give the alarm. But there was the postern. Gian Maria +must construct him a light, portable bridge, and have it in readiness to +span the moat and silently pour his soldiers into the castle through that +little gate. + +And so, the plot matured and every detail clear, he got him to his +chamber and penned the letter that was to rejoice the heart of Gian +Maria. He chose a favourable moment to despatch it, as he had despatched +the former ones, tied about the quarrel of an arbalest, and he saw Gian +Maria's signal--for which the letter had provided--that the plan would be +adopted. Humming a gay measure, jubilant at the prospect of seeing +himself so amply avenged, Gonzaga passed down and out into the castle +gardens to join the ladies in their merry-making over a game of hoodman +blind. + +Now, however much the Duke of Babbiano may have congratulated himself +upon the ally he possessed in Gonzaga, and the cunning scheme the latter +had devised for placing him in possession of Roccaleone, there came news +to him on the morrow that caused him to rejoice a hundredfold more +fervently. His subjects of Babbiano were in a condition approaching open +rebellion, resulting from the disquieting rumours that Caesar Borgia was +arming at Rome for a decent upon the Duchy, and the continued absence of +Gian Maria in such a season, upon a wooing that they deemed ill-timed. A +strong party had been formed, and the leaders had nailed upon the Palace +gates a proclamation that, unless Gian Maria returned within three days +to organise the defence of Babbiano, they would depose him and repair to +Aquila to invite his cousin, Francesco del Falco--whose patriotism and +military skill were known to all--to assume the crown of Babbiano and +protect them. + +At the news, and upon reading the proclamation, which Alvari had brought +with him, Gian Maria flew into one of those fits of rage that made his +name a byword in Babbiano. Presently, however, he cooled. There was +Gonzaga yonder, who had promised to admit him to Roccaleone on Wednesday. +That left him time to first possess himself of his reluctant bride, and +then ride hard to Babbiano, to arrive there before the expiry of the +three days' grace his subjects gave him. + +He conferred with Guidobaldo, and urged that a priest should be in +waiting to wed them so soon as he should have brought her out of the +fortress. Upon that detail they were within an ace of quarrelling. +Guidobaldo would not at first agree to such hasty nuptials; they were +unfitting the dignity and the station of his niece, and if Gian Maria +would wed her he must come to Urbino and let the ceremony be performed by +a cardinal. Well was it then for Gian Maria that he mastered his wonted +hastiness and curbed the hot, defiant retort that rose to his lips. Had +he done so, an enduring rupture between them would probably have ensued; +for Guidobaldo was not one to permit himself to be hectored, and, after +all, he amply realised that Gian Maria had more need of him than he of +Gian Maria. And this in that moment the Duke of Babbiano realised too, +and realising it he set himself to plead where otherwise he might have +demanded, to beg as a favour that which otherwise he might have commanded +with a threat. And so he won Guidobaldo--although reluctant--to his +wishes in the matter, and in his good-nature the Duke of Urbino consented +to pocket the dignity that prompted him to see the ceremony performed +with princely pomp. + +This being settled, Gian Maria blessed Gonzaga who rendered it all +possible, and came most opportunely to his aid where without him he +should have been forced to resort to cannon and bloodshed. + +With Gonzaga the only shadow of doubt that remained to mar the perfect +certainty of his success lay in his appreciation of Francesco's daring +character and resourceful mind, and now as if the gods were eager to +favour him to the very last degree--a strange weapon to combat this was +unexpectedly thrust into his hand. + +It happened that Alvari was not the only messenger who travelled that day +to Roccaleone. There followed him by some hours, the Count of Aquila's +servant, Zaccaria, who rode hard and reached the approaches of the castle +by sunset. His destination being the fortress itself, he was forced to +wait in the woods until night had fallen, and even then his mission was +fraught with peril. + +It befell that somewhere near the second hour of night, the moon being +overcast at the time--for there were threats of a storm in the sky--the +sentinel on the eastern wall heard a sound of splashing in the moat +below, accompanied by the stertorous breathing of a swimmer whose mouth +is not well above water. He challenged the sound, but receiving no reply +he turned to go and give the alarm, and ran into the arms of Gonzaga, who +had come up to take the air. + +"Illustrious," he exclaimed, "there is someone swimming the moat." + +"Eh?" cried Gonzaga, a hundred suspicions of Gian Maria running through +his mind. "Treachery?" + +"It is what I thought." + +Gonzaga took the man by the sleeve of his doublet, and drew him back to +the parapet. They peered over, and from out of the blackness they were +hailed by a faint "Olá!" + +"Who goes there?" demanded Romeo. + +"A friend," came the answer softly. "A messenger from Babbiano with +letters for the Lord Count of Aquila. Throw me a rope, friends, before I +drown in this trough." + +"You rave, fool!" answered him Gonzaga. "We have no counts at +Roccaleone." + +"Surely, sir sentinel," replied the voice, "my master, Messer Francesco +del Falco, is here. Throw me a rope, I say." + +"Messer Fran----" began Gonzaga. Then he made a noise like a man +choking. It was as if a sudden light of revelation had flooded his +brain. "Get a rope," he harshly bade the sentry. "In the armoury yard. +Despatch, fool!" he added sharply, now fearing interruption. + +In a moment the man was back, and the rope was lowered to the visitor +below. A few seconds later Zaccaria stood on the ramparts of Roccaleone, +the water dripping from his sodden garments, and gathering in a pool +about his feet. + +"This way," said Gonzaga, leading the man towards the armoury tower, +where a lanthorn was burning. By the light of it he surveyed the +newcomer, and bade the sentry close the door and remain within call, +without. + +Zaccaria looked startled at the order. This was scarcely the reception +he had expected after so imperilling his life to reach the castle with +his letter. + +"Where is my lord?" he inquired, through teeth that chattered from the +cold of his immersion, wondering vaguely who this very magnificent +gentleman might be. + +"Is Messer Francesco del Falco your lord?" asked Romeo. + +"He is, sir. I have had the honour to serve him these ten years. I +bring him letters from Messer Fanfulla degli Arcipreti. They are very +urgent. Will you lead me to him?" + +"You are very wet," murmured Gonzaga solicitously. "You will take your +death from cold, and the death of a man so brave as to have found a way +through Gian Maria's lines were truly deplorable." He stepped to the +door. "Olá!" he called to the sentry. "Take this brave fellow up there +and find him a change of raiment." He pointed to the upper chamber of +the tower, where, indeed, such things were stored. + +"But my letters, sir!" cried Zaccaria impatiently. "They are very +urgent, and hours have I wasted already in waiting for the night." + +"Surely you can wait until you have changed your garments? Your life, I +take it, is of more account than the loss of a few moments." + +"But my orders from Messer degli Arcipreti were that I must not lose an +instant." + +"Oh, si, si!" cried Gonzaga, with a show of good-tempered impatience. +"Give me the letters, then, and I will take them to the Count while you +are stripping those wet clothes." + +Zaccaria eyed him a moment in doubt. But he looked so harmless in his +finery, and the expression of his comely face was so winning and honest, +that the man's hesitancy faded as soon as it sprang up. Removing his +cap, he drew from within the crown the letter, which he had placed there +to keep dry. This package he now handed to Gonzaga, who, with a final +word of instruction to the sentry touching the finding of raiment for the +messenger, stepped out to go his errand. But outside the door he paused, +and called the sentry to him again. + +"Here is a ducat for you," he whispered. "Do my bidding and you shall +have more. Detain him in the tower till I return, and on no account let +him be seen or heard by anyone." + +"Yes, Excellency," the man replied. "But what if the captain comes and +finds me absent from my post?" + +"I will provide for that. I will tell Messer Fortemani that I have +employed you on a special matter, and ask him to replace you. You are +dispensed sentry duty for to-night." + +The man bowed, and quietly withdrew to attend to his prisoner, for in +that light he now regarded Zaccaria. + +Gonzaga sought Fortemani in the guard-room below, and did as he had +promised the sentry. + +"But," snapped Ercole, reddening, "by whose authority have you done this? +By what right do you send sentinels on missions of your own? Christo +Santo! Is the castle to be invaded while you send my watchmen to fetch +your comfitbox or a book of verses?" + +"You will remember----" began Romeo, with an air of overwhelming dignity. + +"Devil take you and him that sent you!" broke in the bully. "The Messer +Provost shall hear of this." + +"On no account," cried Gonzaga, now passing from anger to alarm, and +snatching the skirts of Fortemani's cloak as the captain was in the act +of going out to execute his threat. "Ser Ercole be reasonable, I beg of +you. Are we to alarm the castle and disturb Monna Valentina over a +trumpery affair such as this? Man, they will laugh at you." + +"Eh?" There was nothing Ercole relished less than to be laughed at. He +pondered a moment, and it occurred to him that perhaps he was making much +of nothing. Then: + +"You, Aventano," he called, "take your partisan, and patrol the eastern +rampart. There, Messer Gonzaga, I have obeyed your wishes; but Messer +Francesco shall hear of it when he comes his rounds." + +Gonzaga left him. Francesco would not make his rounds for another hour, +and by then it would not matter what Fortemani told him. In one way or +another he would be able to account for his action. + +He crossed the courtyard, and mounted the steps leading to his own +chamber. Once there, he closed and barred the door. He kindled a light, +and flinging the letter on the table, he sat and contemplated its +exterior and the great red seal that gleamed in the yellow light of his +taper. + +So! This knight-errant, this man whom he had accounted a low-born hind, +was none other than the famous Count of Aquila, the well-beloved of the +people of Babbiano, the beau-ideal of all military folk from Sicily to +the Alps. And he had never suspected it! Dull-witted did he now account +himself. Enough descriptions had he heard of that famous condottiero, +that mirror of Italian chivalry. He might have known that there did not +live two men of such commanding ways as he had seen instanced at +Roccaleone. What was his object there? Was it love of Valentina, or was +it----? He paused, as in his mind he made a swift review of the politics +of Babbiano. A sudden possibility occurred to him that made his eyes +sparkle and his hands tremble with eagerness. Was this but a political +scheme to undermine his cousin's throne, to which Gonzaga had heard it +rumoured that Francesco del Falco was an aspirant? If it were so, what a +vengeance would be his to unmask him! How it must humble Valentina! The +letter lay before him. Within it the true facts would be disclosed. +What did his friend Fanfulla write him? + +He took the letter up and made a close inspection of the seal. Then +softly, quietly, slowly he drew his dagger. If his suspicions were +unfounded, his dagger heated in the taper should afford him the means to +conceal the fact that he had tampered with that missive. He slipped his +blade under the seal, and worked it cautiously until it came up and set +the letter open. He unfolded it, and as he read his eyes dilated. He +seemed to crouch on his chair, and the hand that held the paper shook. +He drew the candle nearer, and shading his eyes he read it again, word +for word: + +"MY DEAR LORD COUNT,--I have delayed writing until the time when the +signs I observed should have become more definite, as they have now done, +so that I may delay no longer. This, then, goes by the hand of Zaccaria, +to tell you that to-day has word been sent Gian Maria giving him three +days in which to return to Babbiano, or to abandon all hope of his crown, +of which the people will send the offer then to you at Aquila, where you +are believed to be. So now, my dear lord, you have the tyrant at your +mercy, tossed between Scylla and Charybdis. Yours it is to resolve how +you will act; but I rejoice in being the one to send you word that your +presence at Roccaleone and your stubborn defence of the fortress has not +been vain, and that presently you are to reap the well-earned reward of +it. The people have been stirred to this extreme action by the confusion +prevailing here. + +"News has reached us that Caesar Borgia is arming, at Rome, a condotta to +invade Babbiano, and the people are exasperated at Gian Maria's continued +absence in such a season. They are short-sighted in this, for they +overlook the results that must attend the alliance with Urbino. May God +protect and prosper your Excellency, whose most devoted servant is + "FANFULLA DEGLI AROIPRETI." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +A REVELATION + + +"Francesco," said Valentina, and the name came from her lips as if it +were an endearment, "why that frowning, careworn look?" + +They were in the dining-room alone, where the others had left them, and +they were still seated at the table at which they had supped. Francesco +raised his dark, thoughtful eyes, and as they lighted now on Valentina +the thoughtfulness that was in them gave place to tenderness. + +"I am fretted by this lack of news," he acknowledged. "I would I knew +what is being done in Babbiano. I had thought that ere now Caesar Borgia +had stirred Gian Maria's subjects into some manner of action. I would I +knew!" + +She rose, and coming close to him, she stood with one hand resting upon +his shoulder, her eyes smiling down upon his upturned face. + +"And shall such a trifle fret you--you who professed a week ago that you +would this siege might last for ever?" + +"Account me not fickle, anima mia," he answered her, and he kissed the +ivory fingers that rested on his shoulder. "For that was before the +world changed for me at the magic of your bidding. And so," he repeated, +"I would I knew what is toward at Babbiano!" + +"But why sigh over a wish so idle?" she exclaimed. "By what means can +news reach you here of the happenings of the world without?" + +He pondered a moment, seeking words in which to answer her. A score of +times during that week had he been on the point of disclosing himself, of +telling her who and what he was. Yet ever had he hesitated, putting off +that disclosure until the season should appear more fitting. This he now +considered the present. She trusted him, and there was no reason to +remain silent longer. Perhaps already he had delayed too long, and so he +was about to speak when she started from his side, and crossed hastily to +the window, alarmed by the sound of approaching steps. A second later +the door opened, and Gonzaga appeared. + +A moment he hesitated in the doorway, looking from one to the other, and +Francesco, lazily regarding him in his turn, noted that his cheeks were +pale and that his eyes glittered like those of a man with the fever. +Then he stepped forward, and, leaving the door open behind him, he +advanced into the room. + +"Monna Valentina, I have something to communicate to you." His voice +shook slightly. "Messer--Francesco, will you give us leave?" And his +feverish eyes moved to the open door with an eloquence that asked no +words. + +Francesco rose slowly, endeavouring to repress his surprise and glanced +across at Valentina, as if awaiting her confirmation or refusal of this +request that he should leave them. + +"A communication for me?" she marvelled, a slight frown drawing her brows +together. "Of what nature, sir?" + +"Of a nature as important as it is private." + +She raised her chin, and with a patient smile she seemed to beg of +Francesco that he would suffer her to humour this mood of Gonzaga's. In +quick obedience Francesco inclined his head. + +"I shall be in my chamber until the hour of my rounds, Madonna," he +announced, and with that took his departure. + +Gonzaga attended him to the door, which he closed after him, and +composing his features to an expression of sorrowing indignation, he came +back and stood facing Valentina across the table. + +"Madonna," he said, "I would to Heaven this communication I have to make +to you came from other lips. In the light of what has passed--here at +Roccaleone--through my folly--you--you may think my mission charged with +vindictiveness." + +Perplexity stared at him from her eyes. + +"You fill me with alarm, my good Gonzaga," she answered him, though +smiling. + +"Alas it has fallen to my unfortunate lot to do more than that. I have +made the discovery of as foul a piece of treachery here in your fortress +as ever traitor hatched." + +She looked at him more seriously now. The vehemence of his tone, and the +suggestion of sorrow that ran through it and gave it so frank an accent, +commanded her attention. + +"Treachery!" she echoed, in a low voice, her eyes dilating. "And from +whom?" + +He hesitated a moment, then waving his hand: + +"Will you not sit, Madonna?" he suggested nervously. + +Mechanically she seated herself at the table, her eyes ever on his face, +alarm spreading in her heart, born of suspense. + +"Be seated too," she bade him, "and tell me." + +He drew up a chair, sat down opposite to her, and taking a deep breath: +"Heard you ever of the Count of Aquila?" he inquired. + +"It were odd if I had not. The most valiant knight in Italy, fame dubs +him." + +His eyes were intently on her face, and what he saw there satisfied him. + +"You know how he stands with the people of Babbiano?" + +"I know that he is beloved of them." + +"And do you know that he is a pretender to the throne of Babbiano? You +will remember that he is cousin to Gian Maria?" + +"His relationship to Gian Maria I know. That he pretends to the throne +of Babbiano I was not aware. But whither are we straying?" + +"We are not straying, Madonna," answered Gonzaga, "we are making a +straight line for the very heart and soul of this treachery I spoke of. +Would you believe me if I told you that here, in Roccaleone, we have an +agent of the Count of Aquila one who in the Count's interest is +protracting this siege with the pretended aim of driving Gian Maria off." + +"Gonzaga----" she began, more than half guessing the drift of his +explanation. But he interrupted her with unusual brusqueness. + +"Wait, Madonna," he cried, his eyes upon her face, his hand imperiously +raised. "Hear me out in patience. I am not talking idly. Of what I +tell you I am armed with proof and witness. Such an agent of--of the +Count's interests we have among us, and his true object in protracting +this siege, and encouraging and aiding you in your resistance, is to +outwear the patience of the people of Babbiano with Gian Maria, and drive +them in the hour of their approaching peril from Caesar Borgia's armies +to bestow the throne on Aquila." + +"Where learnt you this foul lie?" she asked him, her cheeks crimson, her +eyes on fire. + +"Madonna," he said, in a patient voice, "this that you call a lie is +already an accomplished fact. I am not laying before you the fruits of +idle speculation. I have upon me the most positive proof that such a +result as was hoped for has already been reached. Gian Maria has +received from his subjects a notification that unless he is in his +capital within three days from this, they will invest the Lord of Aquila +with the ducal crown." + +She rose, her anger well controlled, her voice calm. + +"Where is this proof? No, no; I don't need to see it. Whatever it is, +what shall it prove to me? That your words, in so far as the politics of +Babbiano are concerned, may be true; our resistance of Gian Maria may +indeed be losing him his throne and doing good service to the cause of +the Count of Aquila; but how shall all this prove that lie of yours, that +Messer Francesco--for it is clearly of him you speak--that Messer +Francesco should be this agent of the Count's? It is a lie, Gonzaga, for +which you shall be punished as you deserve." + +She ceased, and stood awaiting his reply, and as she watched him his calm +demeanour struck a chill into her heart. He was so confident, so full of +assurance; and that, in Gonzaga, she had learnt to know meant a strong +bulwark 'twixt himself and danger. He sighed profoundly. + +"Madonna, these cruel words of yours do not wound me, since they are no +more than I expected. But it will wound me--and sorely--if when you +shall have learnt the rest you do not humbly acknowledge how you have +wronged me, how grossly you have misjudged me. You think I come to you +with evil in my heart, urged by a spirit of vindictiveness against Messer +Francesco. Instead, I come to you with nothing but a profound sorrow +that mine must be the voice to disillusion you, and a deep indignation +against him that has so foully used you to his own ends. Wait, Madonna! +In a measure you are right. It was not strictly true to say that this +Messer Francesco is the agent of the Count of Aquila." + +"Ah! You are recanting already?" + +"Only a little--an insignificant little. He is no agent because----" He +hesitated, and glanced swiftly up. Then he sighed, lowered his voice, +and with consummately simulated sorrow, he concluded "Because he is, +himself, Francesco del Falco. Count of Aquila." + +She swayed a moment, and the colour died from her cheeks, leaving them +ivory pale. She leaned heavily against the table, and turned over in her +mind what she had heard. And then, as suddenly as it had gone, the blood +rushed back into her face, mounting to her very temples. + +"It's a lie!" she blazed at him; "a lie for which you shall be whipped." + +He shrugged his shoulders, and cast Francesco's letter on to the table. + +"There, Madonna, is something that will prove all that I have said." + +She eyed the paper coldly. Her first impulse was to call Fortemani and +carry out her threat of having Gonzaga whipped, refusing so much as to +see this thing that he so confidently termed a proof; but it may be that +his confidence wrought upon her, touching a chord of feminine curiosity. +That he was wrong she never doubted; but that he believed himself right +she was also assured, and she wondered what this thing might be that had +so convinced him. Still she did not touch it, but asked in an +indifferent voice: + +"What is it?" + +"A letter that was brought hither to-night by a man who swam the moat, +and whom I have ordered to be detained in the armoury tower. It is from +Fanfulla degli Arcipreti to the Count of Aquila. If your memory will +bear you back to a certain day at Acquasparta, you may recall that +Fanfulla was the name of a very gallant cavalier who addressed this +Messer Francesco with marked respect." + +She took that backward mental glance he bade her, and remembered. Then +she remembered, too, how that very evening Francesco had said that he was +fretting for news of Babbiano, and that when she had asked how he hoped +that news could reach him at Roccaleone, Gonzaga had entered before he +answered her. Indeed, he had seemed to hesitate upon that answer. A +sudden chill encompassed her at that reflection. Oh, it was impossible, +absurd! And yet she took the letter from the table. With knit brows she +read it, whilst Gonzaga watched her, scarce able to keep the satisfaction +from gleaming in his eyes. + +She read it slowly, and as she read her face grew deathly pale. When she +had finished she stood silent for a long minute, her eyes upon the +signature and her mind harking back to what Gonzaga had said, and drawing +comparison between that and such things as had been done and uttered, and +nowhere did she find the slightest gleam of that discrepancy which so +ardently she sought. + +It was as if a hand were crushing the heart in her bosom. This man whom +she had trusted, this peerless champion of her cause, to be nothing but a +self-seeker, an intriguer, who, to advance his own ends, had made a pawn +of her. She thought of how for a moment he had held her in his arms and +kissed her, and at that her whole soul revolted against the notion that +here was no more than treachery. + +"It's all a plot against him!" she cried, her cheeks scarlet again. +"It's an infamous thing of your devising, Messer Gonzaga, an odious lie!" + +"Madonna, the man that brought the letter is still detained. Confront +him with Messer Francesco; or apply the question to him, and learn his +master's true name and station. As for the rest, if that letter is +insufficient proof for you, I beg that you will look back at facts. Why +should he lie to you? and say that his name was Francesco Franceschi? +Why should he have urged you--against all reason--to remain here, when he +brought you news that Gian Maria was advancing? Surely had he but sought +to serve you he had better accomplished this by placing his own castle of +Aquila at your disposal, and leaving here an empty nest for Gian Maria, +as I urged." + +She sank to a chair, a fever in her mind. + +"I tell you, Madonna, there is no mistake. What I have said is true. +Another three days would he have held Gian Maria here, whilst if you gave +him that letter, it is odds he would slip away in the night of to-morrow, +that he might be in Babbiano on the third day to take the throne his +cousin treats so lightly. Sainted God!" he cried out. "I think this is +the most diabolically treacherous plot that ever mind of man conceived +and human heartlessness executed." + +"But--but----" she faltered, "all this is presupposing that Messer +Francesco is indeed the Count of Aquila. May there--may it not be that +this letter was meant for some other destination?" + +"Will you confront this messenger with the Count?" + +"With the Count?" she inquired dully. "With Messer Francesco, you mean?" +She shuddered, and with strange inconsistence: "No," she said, in a +choking voice, her lip twisting oddly at the corner. "I do not wish to +see his face again." + +A light gleamed in Gonzaga's eye, and was extinguished on the instant. + +"Best make certain," he suggested, rising. "I have ordered Fortemani to +bring Lanciotto here. He will be waiting now, without. Shall I admit +them?" + +She nodded without speaking, and Gonzaga opened the door, and called +Fortemani. A voice answered him from the gloom of the banqueting-hall. + +"Bring Lanciotto here," he commanded. + +When Francesco's servant entered, a look of surprise on his face at these +mysterious proceedings, it was Valentina who questioned him, and that in +a voice as cold as though the issue concerned her no whit. + +"Tell me, sirrah," she said, "and as you value your neck, see that you +answer me truly--what is your master's name?" + +Lanciotto looked from her to Gonzaga, who stood by, a cynical curl on his +sensual lips. + +"Answer Monna Valentina," the courtier urged him. "State your master's +true name and station." + +"But, lady," began Lanciotto, bewildered. + +"Answer me!" she stormed, her small clenched hands beating the table in +harsh impatience. And Lanciotto, seeing no help for it, answered: + +"Messer Francesco del Falco, Count of Aquila." + +Something that began in a sob and ended in a laugh burst from the lips of +Valentina. Ercole's eyes were wide at the news, and he might have gone +the length of interposing a question, when Gonzaga curtly bade him go to +the armoury tower, and bring thence the soldier and the man Gonzaga had +left in his care. + +"I will leave no shadow of doubt in your mind, Madonna," he said in +explanation. + +They waited in silence--for Lanciotto's presence hindered conversation-- +until Ercole returned accompanied by the man-at-arms and Zaccaria, who +had now changed his raiment. Before they could question the new-comer, +such questions as they might have put were answered by the greeting that +passed between him and his fellow-servant Lanciotto. + +Gonzaga turned to Valentina. She sat very still, her tawny head bowed +and in her eyes a look of sore distress. And in that instant a brisk +step sounded without. The door was thrust open, and Francesco himself +stood upon the threshold, with Peppe's alarmed face showing behind him. +Gonzaga instinctively drew back a pace, and his countenance lost some of +its colour. + +At sight of Francesco, Zaccaria rushed forward and bowed profoundly. + +"My lord!" he greeted him. + +And if one little thing had been wanting to complete the evidence against +the Count, that thing, by an odd mischance, Francesco himself seemed to +supply. The strange group in that dining-room claiming his attention, +and the portentous air that hung about those present, confirmed the +warning Peppe had brought him that something was amiss. He disregarded +utterly his servant's greeting, and with eyes of a perplexity that may +have worn the look of alarm he sought the face of Valentina. + +She rose upon the instant, an angry red colouring her cheeks. His very +glance, it seemed, was become an affront unbearable after what had +passed--for the memory of his kiss bit like a poisoned fang into her +brain. An odd laugh broke from her. She made a gesture towards +Francesco. + +"Fortemani, you will place the Count of Aquila under arrest," she +commanded, in a stern, steady voice, "and as you value your life you will +see that he does not elude you." + +The great bully hesitated. His knowledge of Francesco's methods was not +encouraging. + +"Madonna!" gasped Francesco, his bewilderment increasing. + +"Did you hear me, Fortemani," she demanded. "Remove him." + +"My lord?" cried Lanciotto, laying hand to his sword his eyes upon his +master's, ready to draw and lay about him at a glance of bidding. + +"Sh! Let be," answered Franeesco coldly. "Here, Messer Fortemani." And +he proffered his dagger, the only weapon that he carried. + +Valentina, calling Gonzaga to attend her, made shift to quit the +apartment. At that Francesco seemed to awaken to his position. + +"Madonna, wait," he cried, and he stepped deliberately before her. "You +must hear me. I have surrendered in earnest of my faith and confident +that once you have heard me----" + +"Captain Fortemani," she cried, almost angrily, "will you restrain your +prisoner? I wish to pass." + +Ercole, with visible reluctance, laid a hand on Francesco's shoulder; but +it was unnecessary. Before her words, the Count recoiled as if he had +been struck. He stood clear of her path with a gasp at once of unbelief +and angry resignation. An instant his eyes rested on Gonzaga, so +fiercely that the faint smile withered on the courtier's lips, and his +knees trembled under him as he hastened from the room in Valentina's +wake. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +IN THE ARMOURY TOWER + + +The rough stones of the inner courtyard shone clean and bright in the +morning sun, still wet with the heavy rains that had washed them +yesternight. + +The fool sat on a rude stool within the porch of the long gallery, and, +moodily eyeing that glistening pavement, ruminated. He was angry, which, +saving where Fra Domenico was concerned, was a rare thing with good- +humoured Peppe. He had sought to reason with Monna Valentina touching +the imprisonment in his chamber of Messer Francesco, and she had bidden +him confine his attention to his capers with a harshness he had never +known in her before. But he had braved her commands, and astonished her +with the information that the true identity of this Messer Francesco had +been known to him since that day when they had first met him at +Acquasparta. He had meant to say more. He had meant to add the +announcement of Francesco's banishment from Babbiano and his notorious +unwillingness to mount his cousin's throne. He had meant to make her +understand that had Francesco been so minded, he had no need to stoop to +such an act as this that she imputed to him. But she had cut him short, +and with angry words and angrier threats she had driven him from her +presence. + +And so she was gone to Mass, and the fool had taken shelter in the porch +of the gallery, that there he might vent some of his ill-humour--or +indeed indulge it--in pondering the obtuseness of woman and the +insidiousness of Gonzaga, to whom he never doubted that this miserable +state of things was due. + +And as he sat there--a grotesque, misshapen figure in gaudy motley--an +ungovernable rage possessed him. What was to become of them now? +Without the Count of Aquila's stern support the garrison would have +forced her to capitulate a week ago. What would betide, now that the +restraint of his formidable command was withdrawn? + +"She will know her folly when it's too late. It's the way of women," he +assured himself. And, loving his mistress as he did, his faithful soul +was stricken at the thought. He would wait there until she returned from +Mass, and then she should hear him--all should hear him. He would not +permit himself to be driven away again so easily. He was intently +turning over in his mind what he would say, with what startling, pregnant +sentence he would compel attention, when he was startled by the +appearance of a figure on the chapel steps. Sudden and quietly as an +apparition it came, but it bore the semblance of Romeo Gonzaga. + +At sight of him, Peppe instinctively drew back into the shadows of the +porch, his eyes discerning the suspicious furtiveness of the courtier's +movements, and watching them with a grim eagerness. He saw Romeo look +carefully about him, and then descend the steps on tiptoe, evidently so +that no echo of his footfalls should reach those within the chapel. +Then, never suspecting the presence of Peppe, he sped briskly across the +yard and vanished through the archway that led to the outer court. And +the fool, assured that some knowledge of the courtier's purpose would not +be amiss, set out to follow him. + +In his room under the Lion's Tower the Count of Aquila had spent a +restless night, exercised by those same fears touching the fate of the +castle that had beset the fool, but less readily attributing his +confinement to Gonzaga's scheming. Zaccaria's presence had told him that +Fanfulla must at last have written, and he could but assume that the +letter, falling into Monna Valentina's hands, should have contained +something that she construed into treason on his part. + +Bitterly he reproached himself now with not having from the very outset +been frank with her touching his identity; bitterly he reproached her +with not so much as giving a hearing to the man she had professed to +love. Had she but told him upon what grounds her suspicions against him +had been founded, he was assured that he could have dispelled them at a +word, making clear their baselessness and his own honesty of purpose +towards her. Most of all was he fretted by the fact that Zaccaria's +presence, after a coming so long expected and so long delayed, argued +that the news he bore was momentous. From this it might result that Gian +Maria should move at any moment and that his action might be of a +desperate character. + +Now through the ranks of Fortemani's men there had run an inevitable +dismay at Francesco's arrest, and a resentment against Valentina who had +encompassed it. His hand it was that had held them together, his +judgment--of which they had had unequivocal signs--that had given them +courage. He was a leader who had shown himself capable of leading, and +out of confidence for whom they would have undertaken anything that he +bade them. Whom had they now? Fortemani was but one of themselves, +placed in command over them by an event purely adventitious. Gonzaga was +a fop whose capers they mimicked and whose wits they despised; whilst +Valentina, though brave enough and high-spirited, remained a girl of no +worldly and less military knowledge, whose orders it might be suicidal to +carry out. + +Now by none were these opinions more strongly entertained than by Ercole +Fortemani himself. Never had he performed anything with greater +reluctance than the apprehension of Francesco, and when he thought of +what was likely to follow his consternation knew no bounds. He had come +to respect and, in his rough way, even to love their masterful Provost, +and since learning his true identity, in the hour of arresting him, his +admiration had grown to something akin to reverence for the condottiero +whose name to the men-at-arms of Italy was like the name of some patron +saint. + +To ensure the safe keeping of his captive, he had been ordered by +Gonzaga, who now resumed command of Roccaleone, to spend the night in the +ante-room of Francesco's chamber. These orders he had exceeded by +spending a considerable portion of the night in the Count's very room. + +"You have but to speak," the bully had sworn, by way of showing Francesco +the true nature of his feelings, "and the castle is yours. At a word +from you my men will flock to obey you, and you may do your will at +Roccaleone." + +"Foul traitor that you are," Francesco had laughed at him. "Do you +forget under whom you have taken service? Let be what is, Ercole. But +if a favour you would do me, let me see Zaccaria--the man that came to +Roccaleone to-night." + +This Ercole had done for him. Now Zaccaria was fully aware of the +contents of the letter he had carried, having been instructed by Fanfulla +against the chance arising of his being compelled, for his safety, to +destroy it--an expedient to which he now bitterly repented him that he +had not had recourse. From Zaccaria, then, Francesco learnt all that +there was to learn, and since the knowledge but confirmed his fears that +Gian Maria would delay action no longer, he fell a prey to the most +passionate impatience at his own detention. + +In the grey hours of the morning he grew calmer, and by the light of a +lamp that he had called Ercole to replenish, he sat down to write a +letter to Valentina, which he thought should carry conviction of his +honesty to her heart. Since she would not hear him, this was the only +course. At the end of an hour--his moribund light grown yellow now that +the sun was risen--his letter was accomplished, and he summoned Ercole +again, to charge him to deliver it at once to Monna Valentina. + +"I shall await her return from chapel," answered Ercole. He took the +letter and departed. As he emerged into the courtyard he was startled to +see the fool dash towards him, gasping for breath, and with excitement in +every line of his quaint face. + +"Quickly, Ercole!" Peppe enjoined him. "Come with me." + +"Devil take you, spawn of Satan--whither?" growled the soldier. + +"I will tell you as we go. We have not a moment to spare. There is +treachery afoot---- Gonzaga----" he gasped, and ended desperately: "Will +you come?" + +Fortemani needed no second bidding. The chance of catching pretty Messer +Romeo at a treachery was too sweet a lure. Snorting and puffing--for +hard drinking had sorely impaired his wind--the great captain hurried the +fool along, listening as they went to the gasps in which he brought out +his story. It was not much, after all. Peppe had seen Messer Gonzaga +repair to the armoury tower. Through an arrow-slit he had watched him +take down and examine an arbalest, place it on the table and sit down to +write. + +"Well?" demanded Ercole. "What else?" + +"Naught else. That is all," answered the hunchback. + +"Heaven and hell!" roared the swashbuckler, coming to a standstill and +glowering down upon his impatient companion. "And you have made me run +for this?" + +"And is it not enough?" retorted Peppe testily. "Will you come on?" + +"Not a foot farther," returned the captain, getting very angry. "Is this +a miserable jest? What of the treachery you spoke of?" + +"A letter and an arbalest!" panted the maddened Peppe, grimacing horribly +at this delay. "God, was there ever such a fool! Does this mean nothing +to that thick, empty thing you call a head? Have you forgotten how Gian +Maria's offer of a thousand florins came to Roccaleone? On an arbalest +quarrel, stupid! Come on, I say, and afterwards you shall have my +motley--the only livery you have a right to wear." + +In the shock of enlightenment Ercole forgot to cuff the jester for his +insolence, and allowed himself once more to be hurried along, across the +outer court and up the steps that led to the battlements. + +"You think----" he began. + +"I think you had best tread more softly," snapped the fool, under his +breath, "and control that thunderous wheeze, if you would surprise Ser +Romeo." + +Ercole accepted the hint, meek as a lamb, and leaving the fool behind him +on the steps, he went softly up, and approached the armoury tower. +Peering cautiously through the arrow-slit, and favoured by the fact that +Gonzaga's back was towards him, he saw that he was no more than in time. + +The courtier was bending down, and by the creaking sound that reached him +Ercole guessed his occupation to be the winding of the arbalest string. +On the table at his side lay a quarrel swathed in a sheet of paper. + +Swiftly and silently Ercole moved round the tower, and the next instant +he had pushed open the unfastened door and entered. + +A scream of terror greeted him, and a very startled face was turned upon +him by Gonzaga, who instantly sprang upright. Then, seeing who it was, +the courtier's face reassumed some of its normal composure, but his +glance was uneasy and his cheek pale. + +"Sant Iddio!" he gasped. "You startled me, Ercole. I did not hear you +coming." + +And now something in the bully's face heightened the alarm in Gonzaga. +He still made an effort at self-control, as planting himself between +Ercole and the table, so as to screen the tell-tale shaft, he asked him +what he sought there. + +"That letter you have written Gian Maria," was the gruff, uncompromising +answer, for Ercole reeked nothing of diplomatic issues. + +Gonzaga's mouth jerked itself open, and his upper lip shuddered against +his teeth. + +"What---- Wha----" + +"Give me that letter," Ercole insisted, now advancing upon him, and +wearing an air of ferocity that drove back into Gonzaga's throat such +resentful words as he bethought him of. Then, like an animal at bay--and +even a rat will assert itself then--he swung aloft the heavy arbalest he +held, and stood barring Ercole's way. + +"Stand back!" he cried; "or by God and His saints, I'll beat your brains +out." + +There was a guttural laugh from the swashbuckler, and then his arms were +round Gonzaga's shapely waist, and the popinjay was lifted from his feet. +Viciously he brought down the cross-bow, as he had threatened; but it +smote the empty air. The next instant Gonzaga was hurtled, bruised, into +a corner of the tower. + +In a rage so great that he felt it draining him of his very strength and +choking the breath in his body, he made a movement to rise and fling +himself again upon his aggressor. But Fortemani was down upon him, and +for all his struggles contrived to turn him over on his face, twisting +his arms behind him, and making them fast with a belt that lay at hand. + +"Lie still, you scorpion!" growled the ruffler, breathing hard from his +exertions. He rose, took the shaft with the letter tied about it, read +the superscription--"To the High and Mighty Lord Gian Maria Sforza"--and +with a chuckle of mingled relish and scorn, he was gone, locking the +door. + +Left alone, Gonzaga lay face downward where he had been flung, able to do +little more than groan and sweat in the extremity of his despair, whilst +he awaited the coming of those who would probably make an end of him. +Not even from Valentina could he hope for mercy, so incriminating was the +note he had penned. His letter was to enjoin the Duke to hold his men in +readiness at the hour of the Angelus next morning, and to wait until +Gonzaga should wave a handkerchief from the battlements. At that he was +to advance immediately to the postern, which he would find open, and the +rest, Gonzaga promised him, would be easy. He would take the whole +garrison at their prayers and weaponless. + +When Francesco read it a light leapt to his eye and an oath to his lips; +but neither glance nor oath were of execration, as Ercole stood +expecting. A sudden idea flashed through the Count's mind, so strange +and humorous and yet so full of promise of easy accomplishment, that he +burst into a laugh. + +"Now may God bless this fool for the most opportune of traitors!" he +exclaimed, in surprise at which Fortemani's mouth fell open, and the eyes +of Peppe grew very round. + +"Ercole, my friend, here is a bait to trap that lout my cousin, such as I +could never have devised myself." + +"You mean----?" + +"Take it back to him," cried the Count, holding out the letter with a +hand that trembled in the eagerness of his spirit. "Take it back, and +get him by fair means or foul to shoot it as he intended; or if he +refuses, why, then, do you seal it up and shoot it yourself. But see +that it gets to Gian Maria!" + +"May I not know what you intend?" quoth the bewildered Ercole. + +"All in good time, my friend. First do my bidding with that letter. +Listen! It were best that having read it you agree to join him in his +betrayal of Roccaleone, your own fears as to the ultimate fate awaiting +you at Gian Maria's hands being aroused. Urge him to promise you money, +immunity, what you will, as your reward; but make him believe you +sincere, and induce him to shoot his precious bolt. Now go! Lose no +time, or they may be returning from chapel, and your opportunity will be +lost. Come to me here, afterwards, and I will tell you what is in my +mind. We shall have a busy night of it to-night, Ercole, and you must +set me free when the others are abed. Now go!" + +Ercole went, and Peppe, remaining, plagued the Count with questions which +he answered until in the end the fool caught the drift of his scheme, and +swore impudently that a greater jester than his Excellency did not live. +Then Ercole returned. + +"Is it done? Has the letter gone?" cried Francesco. Fortemani nodded. + +"We are sworn brothers in this business, he and I. He added a line to +his note to say that he had gained my cooperation, and that, therefore, +immunity was expected for me too." + +"You have done well, Ercole." Francesco applauded him. "Now return me +the letter I gave you for Monna Valentina. There is no longer the need +for it. But return to me to-night toward the fourth hour, when all are +abed, and bring with you my men, Lanciotto and Zaccaria." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE INTERRUPTED MASS + + +The morning of that Wednesday of Corpus Christi, fateful to all concerned +in this chronicle, dawned misty and grey, and the air was chilled by the +wind that blew from the sea. The chapel bell tinkled out its summons, +and the garrison trooped faithfully to Mass. + +Presently came Monna Valentina, followed by her ladies, her pages, and +lastly, Peppe, wearing under his thin mask of piety an air of eager +anxiety and unrest. Valentina was very pale, and round her eyes there +were dark circles that told of sleeplessness, and as she bowed her head +in prayer, her ladies observed that tears were falling on the illuminated +Mass-book over which she bent. And now came Fra Domenico from the +sacristy in the white chasuble that the Church ordains for the Corpus +Christi feast, followed by a page in a clerkly gown of black, and the +Mass commenced. + +There were absent only from the gathering Gonzaga and Fortemani, besides +a sentry and the three prisoners. Francesco and his two followers. + +Gonzaga had presented himself to Valentina with the plausible tale that, +as the events of which Fanfulla's letter had given them knowledge might +lead Gian Maria at any moment to desperate measures, it might be well +that he should reinforce the single man-at-arms patrolling the walls. +Valentina, little recking now whether the castle held or fell, and still +less such trifles as Gonzaga's attendance at Mass, had assented without +heeding the import of what he said. + +And so, his face drawn and his body quivering with the excitement of what +he was about to do, Gonzaga had repaired to the ramparts so soon as he +had seen them all safely into chapel. The sentinel was that same clerkly +youth Aventano, who had read to the soldiers that letter Gian Maria had +sent Gonzaga. This the courtier accepted as a good omen. If a man there +was among the soldiery at Roccaleone with whom he deemed that he had an +account to settle, that man was Aventano. + +The mist was rapidly lightening, and the country grew visible for miles +around. In the camp of Gian Maria he observed a coming and going of men +that argued an inordinate bustle for so early an hour. They awaited his +signal. + +He approached the young sentinel, growing more and more nervous as the +time for action advanced. He cursed Fortemani, who had selfishly refused +to take an active part in the admission of Gian Maria. Here was a task +that Fortemani could perform more satisfactorily than he. He had urged +this fact on Ercole's attention, but the swashbuckler had grinned and +shook his head. To Gonzaga fell the greater reward, and so Gonzaga must +do the greater work. It was only fair, the knave had urged; and while +Gonzaga was about it, he would watch the chapel door against +interruption. And so Gonzaga had been forced to come alone to try +conclusions with the sentry. + +He gave the young man a nervous but pleasant "Good-morrow," and observed +with satisfaction that he wore no body armour. His original intention +had been to attempt to suborn him, and render him pliable by bribery; but +now that the moment for action was arrived he dared not make the offer. +He lacked for words in which to present his proposal, and he was afraid +lest the man should resent it, and in a fit of indignation attack him +with his partisan. He little imagined that Aventano had been forewarned +by Ercole that a bribe would be offered him and that he was to accept it +promptly. Ercole had chosen this man because he was intelligent, and had +made him understand enough of what was toward, besides offering a +substantial reward if he played his part well, and Aventano waited. But +Gonzaga, knowing naught of this, abandoned at the last moment the notion +of bribing him--which Ercole had enjoined him, and which he in his turn +had promised Ercole was the course he would pursue. + +"You seem cold, Excellency," said the young man deferentially, for he had +observed that Gonzaga shivered. + +"A chill morning, Aventano," returned the gallant, with a grin. + +"True; but the sun is breaking through yonder. It will be warmer soon." + +"Why, yes," answered the other abstractedly, and still he remained by the +sentinel, his hand, under the gay mantle of blue velvet, nervously +fingering the hilt of a dagger that he dared not draw. It came to him +that moments were passing, and that the thing must be done. Yet Aventano +was a sinewy youth, and if the sudden stab he meditated failed him, he +would be at the fellow's mercy. At the thought he shivered again, and +his face turned grey. He moved away a step, and then inspiration brought +him a cruel ruse. He uttered a cry. + +"What is that?" he exclaimed, his eyes on the ground. + +In an instant Aventano was beside him, for his voice had sounded alarmed +--a tone, in his present condition, not difficult to simulate. + +"What, Excellency?" + +"Down there," cried Gonzaga excitedly. "There from that fissure in the +stone. Saw you nothing?" And he pointed to the ground at a spot where +two slabs met. + +"I saw nothing, Illustrious." + +"It was like a flash of yellow light below there. What is under us here? +I'll swear there's treachery at work. Get down on your knees, and try if +anything is to be seen." + +With a wondering glance at the courtier's white, twitching face, the +unfortunate young man went down on all fours to do his bidding. After +all--poor fellow!--he was hardly intelligent as Fortemani opined. + +"There is nothing, Excellency," he said. "The plaster is cracked. +But---- Ah!" + +In a panic of haste Gonzaga had whipped the dagger from its sheath and +sunk it into the middle of Aventano's broad back. The fellow's arms slid +out, and with a long-drawn, gurgling sigh he sank down and stretched +himself horribly on the stones. + +In that instant the clouds parted overhead and the sun came out in a +blaze of golden glory. High above Gonzaga's head a lark burst into song. + +For a moment the assassin remained standing above the body of his victim +with head sunk between the shoulders like a man who expects a blow, his +face grey, his teeth chattering, and his mouth twitching hideously. A +shudder shook him. It was the first life he had taken, and that carrion +at his feet filled him with sickly horror. Not for a kingdom--not to +save his vile soul from the eternal damnation that act had earned it-- +would he have dared stoop to pluck the dagger from the back of the wretch +he had murdered. With something like a scream he turned, and fled in a +panic from the spot. Panting with horror, yet subconsciously aware of +the work he had to do, he paused a moment to wave a kerchief, then dashed +down the steps to the postern. + +With trembling fingers he unlocked the door and set it wide to Gian +Maria's men, who, in answer to his signal, were now hurrying forward with +a bridge composed of pine trees, that they had hastily and roughly put +together during the previous day. This, with some efforts and more noise +than Gonzaga relished, was thrust across the moat. One of the men crept +across, and assisted Gonzaga to make fast his end. + +A moment later Gian Maria and Guidobaldo stood in the castle-yard, and +after them came almost every man of the five score that Gian Maria had +brought to that siege. This was what Francesco had confidently expected, +knowing that it was not his cousin's way to run any risks. + +The Duke of Babbiauo, whose face was disfigured by a bristling hedge of +reddish stubble--for in obedience to the vow he had made, he now carried +a fortnight's growth of beard on his round face--turned to Gonzaga. + +"Is all well?" he asked, in a friendly tone, whilst Guidobaldo +contemptuously eyed the popinjay. + +Gonzaga assured them that the whole thing had been effected without +disturbing the garrison at their prayers. Now that he deemed himself +well protected his usual serenity of manner returned. + +"You may felicitate yourself, Highness," he ventured to say, with a grin, +to Guidobaldo, "that you have reared your niece in devout ways." + +"Did you address me?" quoth the Duke of Urbino coldly. "I trust it may +not again be necessary." + +Before the look of loathing in his handsome face Gonzaga cringed. Gian +Maria laughed in his piping treble. + +"Have I not served your Highness faithfully?" fawned the gallant. + +"So has the meanest scullion in my kitchens, the lowliest groom in my +stables--and with more honour to himself," answered the proud Duke. "Yet +he does not go the length of jesting with me." His eye carried a menace +so eloquent that Gonzaga drew back, afraid; but Gian Maria clapped him on +the shoulder in a friendly manner. + +"Be of good heart, Judas," he laughed, his pale face a-grin, "I shall +find room for you in Babbiano, and work too, if you do it as well as +this. Come; the men are here now. Let us go forward whilst they are at +their prayers. But we must not disturb them," he added, more seriously. +"I will not be guilty of an impiety. We can lie in wait for them +without." + +He laughed gaily, for he seemed in a preposterously good humour, and +bidding Gonzaga lead the way he followed, with Guidobaldo at his side. +They crossed the courtyard, where his men were ranged, armed to the +teeth, and at the door of the archway leading to the inner court they +paused for Gonzaga to open it. + +A moment the gallant stood staring. Then he turned a face of +consternation on the Dukes. His knees shook visibly. + +"It is locked," he announced, in a husky voice. + +"We made too much noise in entering," suggested Guidobaldo, "and they +have taken the alarm." + +The explanation relieved the growing uneasiness in Gian Maria's mind. He +turned with an oath to his men. + +"Here, some of you," his sharp voice commanded. "Beat me down this door. +By the Host! Do the fools think to keep me out so easily?" + +The door was broken down, and they advanced. But only some half-dozen +paces, for at the end of that short gallery they found the second door +barring their progress. Through this, too, they broke, Gian Maria +fiercely blaspheming at the delay. Yet when it was done he was none so +eager to lead the way. + +In the second courtyard he deemed it extremely probable that they should +find Valentina's soldiers awaiting them. So bidding his men pass on, he +remained behind with Guidobaldo until he heard word that the inner court +was likewise empty. + +And now the entire hundred of his followers were assembled there to +overpower the twenty that served Monna Valentina; and Guidobaldo--despite +Gian Maria's scruples--strode coolly forward to the chapel door. + + * * * * * * * + +Within the chapel Mass had started. Fra Domenico at the foot of the +altar had pattered through the Confiteor, his deep voice responded to by +the soprano of the ministering page. The Kyrie was being uttered when +the attention of the congregation was attracted by the sound of steps +approaching the chapel door to the accompaniment of an ominous clank of +steel. The men rose in a body, fearing treachery, and cursing--despite +the sanctity of the place--the circumstance that they were without +weapons. + +Then the door opened, and down the steps rang the armed heels of the new- +comers, so that every eye was turned upon them, including that of Fra +Domenico, who had pronounced the last "Christe eleison" in a quavering +voice. + +A gasp of relief, followed by an angry cry from Valentina, went up when +they recognised those that came. First stepped the Count of Aquila in +full armour, sword at side and dagger on hip, carrying his head-piece on +the crook of his left arm. Behind him towered the bulk of Fortemani, his +great face flushed with a strange excitement, a leather hacketon over his +steel cuirass, girt, too, with sword and dagger, and carrying his shining +morion in his hand. Last came Lanciotto and Zaccaria, both fully +equipped and armed at all points. + +"Who are you that come thus accoutred into God's House to interrupt the +holy Mass?" cried the bass voice of the friar. + +"Patience, good father," answered Francesco calmly, "The occasion is our +justification." + +"What does this mean, Fortemani?" demanded Valentina imperiously, her +eyes angrily set upon her captain, utterly ignoring the Count. "Do you +betray me too?" + +"It means, Madonna," answered the giant bluntly, "that your lap-dog, +Messer Gonzaga, is at this very moment admitting Gian Maria and his +forces to Roccaleone, by the postern." + +There was a hoarse cry from the men, which Francesco silenced by a wave +of his mailed hand. + +Valentina looked wildly at Fortemani, and then, as if drawn by a greater +will than her own, her eyes were forced to travel to the Count. He +instantly advanced, and bowed his head before her. + +"Madonna, this is no hour for explanations. Action is needed, and that +at once. I was wrong in not disclosing my identity to you before you +discovered it by such unfortunate means and with the assistance of the +only traitor Roccaleone has harboured, Romeo Gonzaga--who, as Fortemani +has just told you, is at this moment admitting my cousin and your uncle +to the castle. But that my object was ever other than to serve you, or +that I sought, as was represented to you, to turn this siege to my own +political profit, that, Madonna, I implore you in your own interests to +believe untrue." + +She sank on to her knees and with folded hands began to pray to the +Mother of Mercy, deeming herself lost, for his tone carried conviction, +and he had said that Gian Maria was entering the castle. + +"Madonna," he cried, touching her lightly on the shoulder; "let your +prayers wait until they can be of thanksgiving. Listen. By the +vigilance of Peppe there, who, good soul that he is, never lost faith in +me or deemed me a dastard, we were informed last night--Fortemani and I-- +of this that Gonzaga was preparing. And we have made our plans and +prepared the ground. When Gian Maria's soldiers enter, they will find +the outer doors barred and locked, and we shall gain a little time while +they break through them. My men, as you will observe, are even now +barring the door of the chapel to impose a further obstacle. Now while +they are thus engaged we must act. Briefly, then, if you will trust us +we will bear you out of this, for we four have worked through the night +to some purpose." + +She looked at him through a film of tears, her face drawn and startled. +Then she put her hands to her brow in a gesture of bewildered +helplessness. + +"But they will follow us," she complained. + +"Not so," he answered, smiling. "For that, too, have we provided. Come, +Madonna, time presses." + +A long moment she looked at him. Then brushing aside the tears that +dimmed her sight, she set a hand on either of his shoulders, and stood +so, before them all, gazing up into his calm face. + +"How shall I know that what you say is true--that I may trust you?" she +asked, but her voice was not the voice of one that demands an +overwhelming proof ere she will believe. + +"By my honour and my knighthood," he answered, in a ringing voice, "I +make oath here, at the foot of God's altar, that my purpose--my only +purpose--has been, is, and shall be to serve you, Monna Valentina." + +"I believe you," she cried; to sob a moment later: + +"Forgive me, Francesco, and may God, too, forgive my lack of faith in +you." + +He softly breathed her name in such sweet accents that a happy peace +pervaded her, and the bright courage of yore shone in her brown eyes. + +"Come, sirs!" he cried now, with a sudden briskness that startled them +into feverish obedience. "You, Fra Domenico, cut off your sacerdotals, +and gird high your habit. There is climbing for you. Here, a couple of +you, move aside that altar-step. My men and I have spent the night in +loosening its old hinges." + +They raised the slab, and in the gap beneath it was disclosed a flight of +steps leading down to the dungeons and cellars of Roccaleone. + +Down this they went in haste but in good order, marshalled by Francesco, +and when the last had passed down, he and Lanciotto, aided by others +below, who had seized a rope that he had lowered them, replaced the slab +from underneath, so that no trace should remain of the way by which they +had come. + +A postern had been unbarred below by Fortemani, who had led the way with +a half-dozen of the men; and a huge scaling ladder that lay in readiness +in that subterranean gallery was rushed out across the moat, which at +this point was a roaring torrent. + +Fortemani was the first to descend that sloping bridge, and upon reaching +the ground he made fast the lower end. + +Next went a dozen men at Francesco's bidding, armed with the pikes that +had been left overnight in the gallery. At a word of command they +slipped quietly away. Then came the women, and lastly, the remainder of +the men. + +Of the enemy they caught no glimpse; not so much as a sentry, for every +one of Gian Maria's men had been pressed into the investment of the +castle. Thus they emerged from Roccaleone, and made their way down that +rough bridge into the pleasant meadows to the south. Already Fortemani +and his dozen men had disappeared at the trot, making for the front of +the castle, when Francesco stepped last upon the bridge, and closed the +postern after him. Then he glided rapidly to the ground, and with the +assistance of a dozen ready hands he dragged away the scaling ladder. +They carried it some yards from the brink of the torrent, and deposited +it in the meadow. With a laugh of purest relish Francesco stepped to +Valentina's side. + +"It will exercise their minds to discover how we got out," he cried, "and +they will be forced to the conclusion that we are angels all, with wings +beneath our armour. We have not left them a single ladder or a strand of +rope in Roccaleone by which to attempt to follow us, even if they +discover how we came. But come, Valentina mia, the comedy is not +finished yet. Already Fortemani will have removed the bridge by which +they entered and engaged such few men as may have been left behind, and +we have the High and Mighty Gian Maria in the tightest trap that was ever +fashioned." + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE CAPITULATION OF ROCCALEONE + + +In the sunshine of that bright May morning Francesco and his men went +merrily to work to possess themselves of the ducal camp, and the first +business of the day was to arm those soldiers who had come out unarmed. +Of weapons there was no lack, and to these they helped themselves in +liberal fashion, whilst here and there a man would pause to don a +haubergeon or press a steel cap on his head. + +Three sentries only had been left to guard the tents, and of these +Fortemani and a couple of his men had made prisoners whilst the others +were removing the bridge by which the invaders had entered. And now +beneath the open postern by the drawbridge gaped a surging torrent that +no man would have the hardihood to attempt to swim. + +In that opening, presently, appeared Gian Maria, his face red for once, +and behind him a clamouring crowd of men-at-arms who shared their +master's rage at the manner in which they had been trapped. + +At the rear of the tents Valentina and her ladies awaited the issue of +the parley that now seemed toward. The bulk of the men were busy at Gian +Maria's cannons, and under Francesco's supervision they were training +them upon the drawbridge. + +From the castle a mighty shout went up. The men disappeared from the +postern to reappear a moment later on the ramparts, and Francesco laughed +deep down in his throat as he perceived the purpose of this. They had +bethought them of the guns that were mounted there, and were gone to use +them against Valentina's little army. Gun after gun they tried, and a +fierce cry of rage burst forth when they realised by what dummies they +had been held in check during the past week. This was followed by a +silence of some moments, terminated at last by the sound of a bugle. + +Answering that summons to a parley, and with a last word of injunction to +Fortemani, who was left in charge of the men at the guns, Francesco rode +forward on one of Gian Maria's horses, escorted by Lanciotto and Zaccaria +similarly mounted, and each armed with a loaded arquebuse. + +Under the walls of Roccaleone he drew rein, laughing to himself at this +monstrous change of sides. As he halted--helmet on head, but beaver +open--a body came hurtling over the battlements and splashed into the +foaming waters below. It was the corpse of Aventano, which Gian Maria +had peremptorily bidden them to remove from his sight. + +"I desire to speak with Monna Valentina della Rovere," cried the furious +Duke. + +"You may speak with me, Gian Maria," answered Francesco's voice, clear +and metallic. "I am her representative, her sometime Provost of +Roccaleone." + +"Who are you?" quoth the Duke, struck by a familiar note in that mocking +voice. + +"Francesco del Falco, Count of Aquila." + +"By God! You!" + +"An age of marvels, is it not?" laughed Francesco. + +"Which will you lose, my cousin--a wife or a duchy?" + +Rage struck Gian Maria speechless for a moment. Then he turned to +Guidobaldo and whispered something; but Guidobaldo, who seemed vastly +interested now in this knight below, merely shrugged his shoulders. + +"I will lose neither, Messer Francesco," roared the Duke. "Neither, by +God!" he screamed. "Neither, do you hear me?" + +"I should be deaf else," was the easy answer, "But you are gravely at +fault. One or the other you must relinquish, and it is yours to make a +choice between them. The game has gone against you, Gian Maria, and you +must pay." + +"But have I no voice in the bartering of my niece?" asked Guidobaldo, +with cold dignity. "Is it for you, Lord Count, to say whether your +cousin shall wed her or not?" + +"Why, no. He may wed her if he will, but he will be a duke no longer. +In fact, he will be an outcast with no title to lay claim to, if indeed +the Babbianians will leave him a head at all; whilst I, at least, though +not a duke with a tottering throne, am a count with lands, small but +securely held, and shall become a duke if Gian Maria refuses to +relinquish me your niece. So that if he be disposed to marry her, will +you be disposed to let her marry a homeless vagrant or a headless +corpse?" + +Guidobaldo's face seemed to change, and his eyes looked curiously at the +white-faced Duke beside him. + +"So you are the other pretender to my niece's hand, Lord Count?" he +asked, in his coldest voice. + +"I am, Highness," answered Francesco quietly. "The matter stands thus: +Unless Gian Maria is in Babbiano by morning, he forfeits his crown, and +it passes to me by the voice of the people; but if he will relinquish his +claim to Monna Valentina in my favour, then I shall journey straight to +Aquila, and I shall trouble Babbiano no more. If he refuses, and insists +upon this wedding, abhorrent to Monna Valentina, why, then, my men shall +hold him captive behind those walls until it be too late for him to reach +his duchy in time to save the crown. In the meantime I will ride to +Babbiano in his stead, and--reluctant though I be to play the duke--I +shall accept the throne and silence the people's importunities. He can +then endeavour to win your Highness's consent to the union." + +For perhaps the first time in his life Guidobaldo was guilty of an act of +positive discourtesy. He broke into a laugh--a boisterous, amused laugh +that cut into Gian Maria's heart like a knife. + +"Why, Lord Count," he said, "I confess that you have us very much in your +hands to mould us as you will. Now, you are such a soldier and such a +strategist as it would pleasure me to have about my person in Urbino. +What says your Highness?" he continued, turning now to the almost +speechless Gian Maria. "I have yet another niece with whom we might +cement the union of the two duchies; and she might prove more willing. +Women, it seems, will insist upon being women. Do you not think that +Monna Valentina and this your valiant cousin----" + +"Heed him not!" screamed Gian Maria, now in a white heat of passion. "He +is a smooth-tongued dog that would argue the very devil out of hell. +Make no terms with the hind! I have a hundred men, and----" He swung +suddenly round. "Let down that drawbridge, cowards!" he bawled at them, +"and sweep me those animals from my tents." + +"Gian Maria, I give you warning," cried Francesco, loudly and firmly. "I +have trained your own guns on to that bridge, and at the first attempt to +lower it I'll blow it into splinters. You come not out of Roccaleone +save at my pleasure and upon my terms, and if you lose your duchy by your +obstinacy, it will be your own work; but answer me now, that I may take +my course." + +Guidobaldo, too, restrained Gian Maria, and countermanded his order for +the lowering of the bridge. And now on his other side Gonzaga crept up +to him, and whispered into his ear the suggestion that he should wait +until night had fallen. + +"Wait until night, fool!" blazed the Duke, turning on him, in a fierce +joy at finding one whom he might rend. "If I wait until then, my throne +is lost to me. This comes of sorting with traitors. It is your fault, +you Judas!" he cried more fiercely still, his face distorted; "but you at +least shall pay for what you have done." + +Gonzaga saw a sudden flash of steel before his eyes, and a piercing +scream broke from him as Gian Maria's dagger buried itself in his breast. +Too late Guidobaldo put forward a hand to stay the Duke. + +And so, by a strangely avenging justice, the magnificent Gonzaga sank +dead on the very spot on which he had so cravenly and dastardly poniarded +Aventano. + +"Throw me that carrion into the moat," growled Gian Maria, still +quivering with rage that had prompted his ferocious act. + +He was obeyed, and thus murdered and murderer were united in a common +grave. + +After the first attempt to restrain Gian Maria, Guidobaldo had looked on +in unconcern, deeming the act a very fitting punishment of a man with +whose treachery he, at least, had never been in sympathy. + +As he saw the body vanish in the torrent below, Gian Maria seemed to +realise what he had done. His anger fell from him, and with bent head he +piously crossed himself. Then turning to an attendant who stood at his +elbow: + +"See that a Mass is said for his soul to-morrow," he solemnly bade him. + +As if the act had served to pacify him and restore him to his senses, +Gian Maria now stepped forward and asked his cousin, in calmer tones than +he had hitherto employed, to make clear the terms on which he would +permit him to return to Babbiano within the time to which his people +limited him. + +"They are no more than that you relinquish your claim to Monna Valentina, +and that you find consolation--as I think his Highness of Urbino has +himself suggested--in the Lord Guidobaldo's younger niece." + +Before he could reply Guidobaldo was urging him, in a low voice to accept +the terms. + +"What else is there for you?" Montefeltro ended pregnantly. + +"And this other niece of yours----?" quoth Gian Maria lamely. + +"I have already passed my word," answered Guidobaldo. + +"And Monna Valentina?" the other almost whined. + +"May wed this headstrong condottiero of hers. I'll not withstand them. +Come; I am your friend in this. I am even sacrificing Valentina to your +interests. For if you persist, he will ruin you. The game is his, my +lord. Acknowledge your defeat, as I acknowledge mine, and pay." + +"But what is your defeat to mine?" cried Gian Maria, who saw through +Guidobaldo's appreciation of the fact that such a nephew-in-law as +Francesco del Falco was far from undesirable in the troublous times that +threatened. + +"It is at least as absolute," returned Guidobaldo, with a shrug. And in +this vein the Duke of Urbino continued for some moments, till, in the +end, Gian Maria found himself not only deserted by his ally, but having +this ally now combating on his cousin's side and pressing him to accept +his cousin's terms, distasteful though they were. Thus urged, Gian Maria +lamely acknowledged his defeat and his willingness to pay the forfeit. +With that he asked how soon he might be permitted to leave the castle. + +"Why, at once, now that I have your word," answered Francesco readily, +whereat treachery gleamed from Gian Maria's eye, to be swiftly quenched +by Francesco's next words. "But lest your men and mine should come to +trouble with one another, you will order yours to come forth without arms +or armour, and you will depose your own. His Highness Guidobaldo is the +only man in whose favour I can make an exception to this condition. Let +it be broken, and I promise you that you will very bitterly regret it. +At sight of the first armed man issuing from those gates, I'll give the +word to fire on you, and your own guns shall work your destruction." + +Thus was the second siege of Roccaleone ended almost as soon as it was +begun, and thus did Gian Maria capitulate to the conqueror. The Duke of +Babbiano and his men marched out sheepishly and silently, and took their +way to Babbiano, no word--not even so much as a glance--passing between +Gian Maria and the lady who had been the cause of his discomfiture, and +who blithely looked on at his departure. + +Guidobaldo and his few attendants lingered after his late ally had gone. +Then he bade Francesco lead him to his niece, in which Francesco readily +obeyed him. + +The Duke embraced her coldly--still that he embraced her at all after +what was passed augured well. + +"You will come with me to Urbino, Lord Count?" he said suddenly to +Francesco. "It were best to celebrate the nuptials there. Everything is +in readiness--for all had been prepared for Gian Maria." + +A great joy came into Valentina's eyes; her cheeks flushed and her glance +fell; but Francesco scanned the Duke's face with the keen eye of one who +is incredulous of so much good fortune. + +"Your Highness means me well?" he made bold to ask. Guidobaldo +stiffened, and a frown broke the serenity of his lofty brow. + +"You have my princely word," he answered solemnly, at which, with bended +knee, Francesco stooped to kiss his ducal hand. + +And so they departed on the horses that they kept as the spoils of war. +They made a goodly show, Guidobaldo riding at their head, with Francesco +and Valentina, whilst the rear was brought up by Peppe and Fra Domenico, +who, touched by this epidemic of goodwill, were at last fraternising with +each other. + +And as they rode it chanced that presently Guidobaldo fell behind, so +that for a moment Francesco and Valentina found themselves alone a little +ahead of the others. She turned to him, a shyness in her brown eyes, a +tremble at the corners of her red lips: + +"You have not yet said that you forgive me, Francesco," she complained, +in a timerous whisper. "Were it not seemly that you did since we are to +be wed so soon?" + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext Love-at-Arms, by Rafael Sabatini + diff --git a/old/laarm10.zip b/old/laarm10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1a2093b --- /dev/null +++ b/old/laarm10.zip |