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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ef07765 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #68411 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68411) diff --git a/old/68411-0.txt b/old/68411-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index ad1dc8c..0000000 --- a/old/68411-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,17783 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Bellarion the Fortunate: A romance, by -Rafael Sabatini - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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. 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. - -Title: Bellarion the Fortunate: A romance - -Author: Rafael Sabatini - -Release Date: June 26, 2022 [eBook #68411] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Dagny and Laura Natal Rodrigues (Images generously made - available by The Internet Archive.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BELLARION THE FORTUNATE: A -ROMANCE *** - - -BELLARION - -THE FORTUNATE - - -_A Romance_ - - - - -BY - -RAFAEL SABATINI - - - - -BOSTON AND NEW YORK - -HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY - -The Riverside Press Cambridge - -1926 - - - - -COPYRIGHT, 1926, BY RAFAEL SABATINI - -ALL RIGHTS RESERVED - - - - -[Figure 01] - -[Figure 02] - - - - -CONTENTS - -BOOK I - -I. The Threshold - -II. The Grey Friar - -III. The Door Ajar - -IV. Sanctuary - -V. The Princess - -VI. The Winds of Fate - -VII. Service - -VIII. Stalemate - -IX. The Marquis Theodore - -X. The Warning - -XI. Under Suspicion - -XII. Count Spigno - -XIII. The Trial - -XIV. Evasion - -BOOK II - -I. The Miracle of the Dogs - -II. Facino Cane - -III. The Countess of Biandrate - -IV. The Champion - -V. The Commune of Milan - -VI. The Fruitless Wooing - -VII. Manœuvres - -VIII. The Battle of Travo - -IX. De Mortuis - -X. The Knight Bellarion - -XI. The Siege of Alessandria - -XII. Visconti Faith - -XIII. The Victuallers - -XIV. The Muleteer - -XV. The Camisade - -XVI. Severance - -XVII. The Return - -XVIII. The Hostage - -BOOK III - -I. The Lord Bellarion - -II. The Battle of Novi - -III. Facino's Return - -IV. The Count of Pavia - -V. Justice - -VI. The Inheritance - -VII. Prince of Valsassina - -VIII. Carmagnola's Bridges - -IX. Vercelli - -X. The Arrest - -XI. The Pledge - -XII. Carmagnola's Duty - -XIII. The Occupation of Casale - -XIV. The Vanquished - -XV. The Last Fight - - - - -BELLARION - -BOOK I - - - - -CHAPTER I - -THE THRESHOLD - - -Half god, half beast,' the Princess Valeria once described him, without -suspecting that the phrase describes not merely Bellarion, but Man. - -Aware of this, the anonymous chronicler who has preserved it for us goes -on to comment that the Princess said at once too much and too little. He -makes phrases in his turn--which I will spare you--and seeks to prove, -that, if the moieties of divinity and beastliness are equally balanced -in a man, that man will be neither good nor bad. Then he passes on to -show us a certain poor swineherd, who rose to ultimate eminence, in whom -the godly part so far predominated that naught else was humanly -discernible, and a great prince--of whom more will be heard in the -course of this narrative--who was just as the beasts that perish, -without any spark of divinity to exalt him. These are the extremes. For -each of the dozen or so intermediate stages which he discerns, our -chronicler has a portrait out of history, of which his learning appears -to be considerable. - -From this, from his general manner, from the fact that most of his -illustrations are supplied by Florentine sources, and from the austerely -elegant Tuscan language in which he writes, a fairly definite conclusion -is possible on the score of his identity. It is more than probable that -this study of Bellarion the Fortunate (Bellarione Il Fortunato) belongs -to that series of historical portraits from the pen of Niccolò -Macchiavelli, of which 'The Life of Castruccio Castracane' is perhaps -the most widely known. Research, however, fails to discover the source -from which he draws. Whilst many of his facts agree completely with -those contained in the voluminous, monkish 'Vita et Gesta Bellarionis,' -left us by Fra Serafino of Imola, whoever he may have been, yet -discrepancies are frequent and irreconcilable. - -Thus, at the very outset, on the score of his name, Macchiavelli (to -cling to my assumption) tells us that he was called Bellarion not merely -because he was a man of war, but because he was the very child of War, -born as it were out of the very womb of conflict--'_e di guerra -propriamente partorito_.' The use of this metaphor reveals a full -acquaintance with the tale of the child's being plucked from the midst -of strife and alarums. But Fra Serafino's account of the name is the -only one that fits into the known facts. That this name should have been -so descriptive of Bellarion's after life merely provides one of those -curious instances of homonymy in which history abounds. - -Continuing his comments upon the Princess Valeria's phrase, Macchiavelli -states that Bellarion's is not a nature thus to be packed into a -sentence. Because of his perception of this fact, he wrote his -biographical sketch. Because of my perception of it, I have embarked -upon this fuller narrative. - -I choose to begin at a point where Bellarion himself may be said to make -a certain beginning. I select the moment when he is to be seen standing -upon the threshold of the secular world, known to him until that moment -only from the writings of other men, yet better known to him thus than -it is to many who have lived a lifetime among their fellows. After all, -to view a scene from a distance is to enjoy advantages of perspective -denied to the actors in that scene. - -Bellarion's reading had been prodigious. There was no branch of -learning--from the Theological Fathers to Vegetius Hyginus on The Art of -War'--to which he had not addressed his eager spirit. And his exhaustion -of all immediately available material for study was one of the causes of -his going forth from the peace of the convent of which he was a -nursling, in quest of deeper wells of learning, to slake his hot -intellectual thirst. Another cause was a certain heretical doctrine of -which it was hoped that further study would cure him; a doctrine so -subversive of theological teaching that a hundred years later it must -have made him closely acquainted with the operations of the Holy Office -and probably--in Spain certainly--have brought him to the fire. This -abominable heresy, fruit of much brooding, was that in the world there -is not, nor can be, such a thing as sin. And it was in vain that the -Abbot, who loved him very dearly, sought by argument to convert him. - -'It is your innocence that speaks. Alas, my child, in the world, from -which hitherto you have been mercifully sheltered, you will find that -sin is not only real but terribly abundant.' - -Bellarion answered with a syllogism, the logical formula to which he had -reduced his doctrine. He presented it in the Socratic manner of inquiry, -which was the method of argument he ever preferred. - -'Are not all things in the world from God? Is not God the fount of all -goodness? Can, therefore, any created thing be other than good?' - -'And the devil, then?' quoth the Abbot. - -Bellarion smiled, a singularly sweet smile that had power to draw men's -love and lead them into agreement with him. - -'Is it not possible that those who invented the devil may have studied -divinity in Persia, where the creed obtains that powers of light and -darkness, Ormuzd and Ahriman, strive perpetually for mastery of the -world? Surely, otherwise, they would have remembered that if the devil -exists, God must have created him, which in itself is blasphemy, for God -can create no evil.' - -Aghast, the Abbot descended at a stride from the theological to the -practical. - -'Is it not evil to steal, to kill, to commit adultery?' - -'Ah, yes. But these are evils between men, disruptive of society, and -therefore to be suppressed lest man become as the beasts. But that is -all.' - -'All? All!' The Abbot's deep-set eyes surveyed the youth with sorrow. -'My son, the devil lends you a false subtlety to destroy your soul.' - -And gently, now, that benign and fatherly man preached him a sermon of -the faith. It was followed by others in the days that ensued. But to all -the weapons of his saintly rhetoric Bellarion continued to oppose the -impenetrable shield of that syllogism of his, which the Abbot knew at -heart to be fallacious, yet whose fallacy he laboured in vain to expose. -But when the good man began to fear lest this heresy should come to -trouble and corrupt the peace and faith of his convent, he consented to -speed its author to Pavia and to those further studies which he hoped -would cure him of his heretical pravity. And that is how, on a day of -August of the year of grace 1407, Bellarion departed from the convent of -Our Lady of Grace of Cigliano. - -He went on foot. He was to be dependent for food and shelter mainly upon -the charity of the religious houses that lay on his way to Pavia, and as -a passport to these he bore in his scrip a letter from the Abbot of the -Grazie. Beside it lay a purse, containing for emergencies five ducats, a -princely sum not only in his own eyes, but in those of the Abbot who at -parting had bestowed it upon him. The tale of his worldly possessions is -completed by the suit of coarse green cloth he wore and the knife at his -girdle, which was to serve all purposes from the carving of his meat to -affording him a means of defence from predatory beasts and men. To -fortify him spiritually in his adventurous pilgrimage through Lombardy -he had the Abbot's blessing and a memory of the fond tears in the eyes -of that old man who had reared him from the age of six. At the last the -Abbot had again reminded him of the peace of the convent and of the -strife and unhappiness that distract the world. - -'_Pax multa in cella, foris autem plurima bella._' - -The mischief began--and you may account it symbolical--by his losing his -way. This happened a mile or two beyond the township of Livorno. Because -the peace of the riverside allured a mind that for seventeen years had -been schooled in peace, because the emerald meadows promised to be soft -and yielding to his feet, he left the dusty highway for the grassy banks -of Po. Beside its broad waters winding here about the shallow, pleasant -hills of Montferrat, Bellarion trudged, staff in hand, the green hood of -his cape thrown back, the long liripipe trailing like a tail behind him, -a tall, lithe stripling of obvious vigour, olive-skinned, black-haired, -and with dark eyes that surveyed the world bold and fearlessly. - -The day was hot. The air was laden with the heavy perfumes of late -summer, and the river swollen and clouded by the melting snows on -distant Monte Rosa. - -He wandered on, lost in day-dreams, until the sunlight passed with the -sinking of the sun behind the wooded heights across the river and a -breeze came whispering through the trees on his own bank. He checked, -his dark eyes alert, a frown of thought rumpling the fair smoothness of -his lofty brow. He looked about, became aware of a deep forest on his -left, bethought him of the road, remembered where the sun had set, and -realised hence that for some time he had been travelling south, and -consequently in the wrong direction. In following the allurements -offered to his senses he had gone astray. He made some homely philosophy -upon that, to his infinite satisfaction, for he loved parallels and -antitheses and all such intellectual toys. For the rest, there was about -him no doubt or hesitation. He computed, from the time he had taken and -the pace at which he had come, the extent to which he had wandered from -the road. It must run too far beyond this forest to leave him any hope -of lying that night, as he had intended, with the Augustinian fathers at -their house on the Sesia, on the frontiers of the State of Milan. - -Save for the hunger that beset him, he was undismayed. And what after -all is a little hunger to one schooled to the most rigid lenten fasts in -season? - -He entered the wood, and resolutely went forward in the direction in -which he knew the road to lie. For a half-mile or more he penetrated by -a path growing less visible at every step, until darkness and the forest -swallowed him. To go on would certainly be to lose himself completely in -this maze. Better far to lie down and sleep where he was, and wait for -the morning sun to give him his orientation. - -So he spread his cloak upon the ground, and this proving no harder as a -couch than the pallet to which he was accustomed, he slept soundly and -peacefully. - -When he awakened he found the sunlight in the forest and something else -of almost more immediate interest; a man in the grey habit of a minor -friar. This man, tall and lean, was standing beside him, yet half turned -from him in a curious attitude of arrested movement, almost as if the -abrupt suddenness with which Bellarion had sat up--a single heartbeat -after his eyes had opened--had checked his intention to depart. - -Thus an instant, then the friar was facing him again, his hands folded -within the loose sleeves of his robe, a smile distending his -countenance. He uttered a benedictory greeting. - -'Pax tecum.' - -'Et tecum, frater, pax,' was Bellarion's mechanical answer, what time he -studied this stranger's villainous, patibulary countenance, marking the -animal looseness of mouth, and the craft peering from the little eyes -that were black beads thrust into a face of clay. A closer scrutiny -softened his judgment. The man's face was disfigured, ridged, scarred, -and pitted from the smallpox. These scars had contracted the skin about -the eyes, thus altering their expression, and to the ravages of the -disease was also due the sickly pallor overspreading cheek and brow. - -Considering this and the habit which the man wore--a habit which -Bellarion had no cause to associate with anything that was not sweet and -good--he disposed himself to make amends for the hastiness of his first -assumptions. - -'Benedictus sis,' he murmured, and with that abandoned Latin for the -vulgar tongue. 'I bless the Providence that sends you to a poor -traveller who has lost his way.' - -The friar laughed aloud at that, and the lingering apprehension left his -eyes, which thus relieved grew pleasanter to look upon. - -'Lord! Lord! And I like a fool and coward, having almost trod upon you, -was for creeping off in haste, supposing you a sleeping robber. This -forest is a very sanctuary of thieves. They infest it, thick as rabbits -in a warren.' - -'Why, then, do you adventure in it?' - -'Why? Ohé! And what shall they steal from a poor friar-mendicant? My -beads? My girdle?' He laughed again. A humorous fellow, clearly, taking -a proper saintly joy in his indigenous condition. 'No, no, my brother. I -have no cause to go in fear of thieves.' - -'Yet supposing me a thief, you were in fear of me?' - -The man's smile froze. This stripling's simple logic was disconcerting. - -'I feared,' he said at last, slowly and solemnly, 'your fear of me. A -hideous passion, fear, in man or beast. It makes men murderers at times. -Had you been the robber I supposed you, and, waking suddenly, found me -beside you, you might have suspected some intent to harm you. It is -easily guessed what would have followed then.' - -Bellarion nodded thoughtfully. No explanation could have been more -complete. The man was not only virtuous, but wise. - -'Whither do you journey, brother?' - -'To Pavia,' Bellarion answered him, 'by way of Santa Tenda.' - -'Santa Tenda! Why, that is my way too; at least as far as the -Augustinian Monastery on the Sesia. Wait here, my son, and we will go -together. It is good to have a comrade on a journey. Wait but some few -moments, to give me time to bathe, which is the purpose for which I -came. I will not keep you long.' - -He went striding off through the grass. Bellarion called after him: - -'Where do you bathe?' - -Over his shoulder the friar answered him: 'There is a rivulet down -yonder. But a little way. Do not stray from that spot, so that I may -find you again, my son.' - -Bellarion thought the form of address an odd one. A minorite is brother, -not father, to all humanity. But it was no suspicion based on this that -brought him to his feet. He was a youth of cleanly habits, and if there -was water at hand, he too would profit by it. So he rose, picked up his -cloak, and went off in the wake of the swiftly moving friar. - -When, presently, he overtook him, Bellarion made him a present of a -proverb. - -'Who goes slowly, goes soundly.' - -'But never gets there,' was the slightly breathless answer. 'And it's -still some way to the water.' - -'Some way? But you said ...' - -'Aye, aye. I was mistaken. One place is like another in this labyrinth. -I am none so sure that I am not as lost as you are.' - -It must have been so, for they trudged a full mile before they came to a -brook that flowed westward towards the river. It lay in a dell amid -mossy boulders and spreading fronds of ferns all dappled now with the -golden light that came splashing through the trees. They found a pool of -moderate dimensions in a bowl of grey stone fashioned by the ceaseless -sculpture of the water. It was too shallow to afford a bath. But the -friar's ablutionary dispositions scarce seemed to demand so much. He -rinsed face and hands perfunctorily, whilst Bellarion stripped to the -waist, and displaying a white torso of much beauty and more vigour, did -what was possible in that cramped space. - -After that the friar produced from one of the sack-like pockets of his -habit an enormous piece of sausage and a loaf of rye bread. - -To Bellarion who had gone supperless to bed this was as the sight of -manna in the desert. - -'Little brother!' he cooed in sheer delight. 'Little brother!' - -'Aye, aye. We have our uses, we little brothers of Saint Francis.' The -minorite sliced the sausage in two equal halves. 'We know how to provide -ourselves upon a journey.' - -They fell to eating, and with the stilling of his hunger Bellarion -experienced an increasing kindliness to this Good Samaritan. At the -friar's suggestion that they should be moving so as to cover the greater -part of the road to Casale before the noontide heat, Bellarion stood up, -brushing the crumbs from his lap. In doing so his hand came in contact -with the scrip that dangled from his girdle. - -'Saints of God!' he ejaculated, as he tightened his clutch upon that bag -of green cloth. - -The beady eyes of the minorite were upon him, and there was blank -inquiry in that ashen, corrugated face. - -'What is it, brother?' - -Bellarion's fingers groped within the bag a moment, then turned it -inside out, to reveal its utter emptiness. He showed his companion a -face which blended suspicion with dismay. - -'I have been robbed!' he said. - -'Robbed?' the other echoed, then smiled a pitying concern. 'My surprise -is less than yours, my son. Did I not say these woods are infested by -thieves and robbers? Had you slept less soundly you might have been -robbed of life as well. Render thanks to God, Whose grace is discernible -even in misfortune. For no evil befalls us that will not serve to show -how much greater that evil might have been. Take that for comfort ever -in adversity, my child.' - -'Aye, Aye!' Bellarion displayed ill-humour, whilst his eyes abated -nothing of their suspicious glance. 'It is easy to make philosophy upon -the woes of others.' - -'Child, child! What is your woe? What is the full sum of it? What have -you lost, when all is said?' - -'Five ducats and a letter.' Bellarion flung the answer fiercely. - -'Five ducats!' The friar spread his hands in pious remonstrance. 'And -will you blaspheme God for five ducats?' - -'Blaspheme?' - -'Is not your furious frame of mind a blasphemy, your anger at your loss -where there should be a devout thankfulness for all that you retain? And -you should be thankful, too, for the Providence that guided my steps -towards you in the hour of your need.' - -'I should be thankful for that?' Bellarion stressed the question with -mistrust. - -The friar's countenance changed. A gentle melancholy invested it. - -'I read your thoughts, child, and they harbour suspicion of me. Of Me!' -he smiled. 'Why, what a madness! Should I turn thief? Should I imperil -my immortal soul for five paltry ducats? Do you not know that we little -brothers of Saint Francis live as the birds of the air, without thought -for material things, our trust entirely in God's providence? What should -I do with five ducats, or five hundred? Without a single minted coin, -with no more than my gown and my staff I might journey from here to -Jerusalem, living upon the alms that never fail us. But assurances are -not enough for minds poisoned by suspicion.' He flung wide his arms, and -stood cruciform before the youth. 'Come, child, make search upon me for -your ducats, and so assure yourself. Come!' - -Bellarion flushed, and lowered his head in shame. - -'There ... there is not the need,' he answered lamely. 'The gown you -wear is a full assurance. You could not be what you are and yet the -thing that for a moment I ...' He broke off. 'I beg that you'll forgive -my unworthiness, my brother.' - -Slowly the friar lowered his arms. His eyes were smiling again. - -'I will be merciful by not insisting.' He laid a hand, lean and long in -the fingers as an eagle's claw upon the young man's shoulder. 'Think no -more of your loss. I am here to repair it. Together we will journey. The -habit of Saint Francis is wide enough to cover both of us, and you shall -not want for anything until you reach Pavia.' - -Bellarion looked at him in gratitude. 'It was Providence, indeed, that -sent you.' - -'Did I not say so? And now you see it for yourself. Benedicamus Domine.' - -To which Bellarion sincerely made the prescribed answer: 'Deo gratias!' - - - - -CHAPTER II - -THE GREY FRIAR - - -They made their way towards the road, not directly, but by a course with -which Fra Sulpizio--as the friar announced himself named--seemed -singularly well acquainted. It led transversely across the forest. And -as they went, Fra Sulpizio plied Bellarion with questions. - -'There was a letter, you said, that was stolen with your gold?' - -'Aye,' Bellarion's tone was bitter. 'A letter worth many times five -ducats.' - -'Worth many times ...? A letter?' The incredulity on the friar's face -was ludicrous. 'Why, what manner of letter was that?' - -Bellarion, who knew the contents by heart, recited them word for word. - -Fra Sulpizio scratched his head in perplexity. 'I have Latin enough for -my office; but not for this,' he confessed, and finding Bellarion's -searching glance upon him, he softened his voice to add, truly enough: -'We little brothers of Saint Francis are not famed for learning. -Learning disturbs humility.' - -Bellarion sighed. 'So I know to my cost,' said he, and thereafter -translated the lost letter: 'This is our dearly beloved son Bellarion, a -nutritus of this house, who goes hence to Pavia to increase his -knowledge of the humanities. We commend him first to God and then to the -houses of our own and other brethren orders for shelter and assistance -on his journey, involving upon all who may befriend him the blessing of -Our Lord.' - -The friar nodded his understanding. 'It might have been a grievous loss, -indeed. But as it is, I will do the office of your letter whilst I am -with you, and when we part I will see you armed with the like from the -Prior of the Augustinians on the Sesia. He will do this at my word.' - -The young man thanked him with a fervour dictated by shame of certain -unworthy suspicions which had recurred. Thereafter they trudged on a -while in silence, broken by the friar at last. - -'And is your name Belisario, then? An odd name, that!' - -'Not Belisario. Bellario, or rather, Bellarione.' - -'Bellarione? Why, it is even less Christian than the other. Where got -you such a name?' - -'Not at the font, you may be sure. There I was christened Ilario, after -the good Saint Hilary, who is still my patron saint.' - -'Then why ...?' - -'There's a story to it; my story,' Bellarion answered him, and upon -slight encouragement proceeded to relate it. - -He was born, he told the friar, as nearly as he could guess, some six -years after the outbreak of the Great Schism, that is to say, somewhere -about the year 1384, in a village of whose name, like that of his own -family, he had no knowledge. - -'Of my father and my mother,' he continued, 'I can evoke no mental -picture. Of my father my only positive knowledge is that he existed. Of -my mother I know that she was a termagant of whom the family, my father -included, stood in awe. Amongst my earliest impressions is the sense of -fear that invaded us at the sound of her scolding voice. It was -querulous and strident; and I can hear it to this day harshly raised to -call my sister. Leocadia was that sister's name, the only name of all my -family that I remember, and this because I must often have heard it -called in that dread voice. There were several of us. I have one vivid -memory of perhaps a half-dozen tumbling urchins, playing at some game in -a bare chill room, that was yellow washed, lighted by an unglazed window -beyond which the rain was streaming down upon a narrow dismal street. -There was a clang of metal in the air, as if armourers were at work in -the neighbourhood. And we were in the charge, I remember, of that same -Leocadia, who must have been the eldest of us. I have an impression, -vague and misty, of a lanky girl whose lean bare legs showed through a -rent in her tattered petticoat. Faintly I discern a thin, pinched face -set in a mane of untidy yellow hair, and then I hear a heavy step and -the creak of a stair and a shrill, discordant voice calling "Leocadia!" -and then a scuttle amongst us to shelter from some unremembered peril. - -'Of my family, that is all that I can tell you, brother. You'll agree, -perhaps, that since my memory can hold so little it is a pity that it -should hold so much. But for these slight impressions of my infancy I -might weave a pleasant romance about it, conceive myself born in a -palace and heir to an illustrious name. - -'That these memories of mine concern the year 1389 or 1390 I know from -what the Abbot tells me, and also from later studies and deductions of -my own. As you may know, there was at that time a bitter war being waged -hereabouts between Ghibelline Montferrat and Guelphic Morea. It may have -ravaged these very lands by which we travel now. One evening at the hour -of dusk a foraging troop of Montferrat horse swept into my native place. -There was pillage and brutality of every kind, as you can imagine. There -was terror and confusion in every household, no doubt, and even in our -own, although Heaven knows we had little cause to stand in dread of -pillage. I remember that as night descended we huddled in the dark -listening to the sounds of violence in the distance, coming from what I -now imagine to have been the more opulent quarter of that township. I -can hear my mother's heavy breathing. For once she inspired no terror in -us, being herself stricken with terror and cowed into silence. But this -greater terror was upon us all, a sense of impending evil, of some -horror advancing presently to overwhelm us. There were snivelling, -whimpering sounds in the gloom about me from Leocadia and the other -children. It is odd, how things heard have remained stamped upon my mind -so much more vividly than things seen, which usually are more easily -remembered. But from that moment my memory begins to grow clear and -consecutive, perhaps from the sudden sharpening of my wits by this -crisis. - -'It was probably the instinct to withdraw myself beyond the reach of -that approaching evil, which drew me furtively from the room. I remember -groping my way in the dark down a steep crazy staircase, and tumbling -down three stone steps at the door of that hovel into the mud of the -street. - -'I picked myself up, bruised and covered with filth. At another time -this might have set me howling. Just then my mind was filled with graver -concerns. In the open the noises were more distinct. I could hear -shouts, and once a piercing scream that made my young blood run cold. -Away on my right there was a red glow in the sky, and associating it -with the evil that was to be escaped, I turned down the alley and made -off, whimpering as I ran. Soon there was an end to the houses, and I was -out of their shadow in the light of a rising moon on a road that led -away through the open country into eternity as it must have seemed to -me. From this I have since argued either that the township had neither -gates nor walls, or else that the mean quarter we inhabited was outside -and beyond them. - -'I cannot have been above five years of age, and I must have been -singularly sturdy, for my little legs bore me several miles that night, -driven by unreasoning fear. At last I must have sunk down exhausted by -the roadside, and there fallen asleep, for my next memory is of my -awakening. It was broad daylight, and I was in the grasp of a big, -bearded man who from his cap to his spurs was all steel and leather. -Beside him stood the great bay horse from which he had just leaped, and -behind him, filling the road in a staring, grinning, noisy cluster, was -ranged a troop of fully fifty men with lances reared above them. - -'He soothed my terrors with a voice incredibly gentle in one so big and -fierce, and asked me who I was and whence I came, questions to which I -could return no proper answers. To increase my confidence, perhaps, he -gave me food, some fruit and bread--such bread as I had never tasted. - -'"We cannot leave you here, baby," he said. "And since you don't know -where you belong, I will take charge of you." - -'I no longer feared him or those with him. What cause had I to fear -them? This man had stroked and petted and fed me. He had used me more -kindly than I could remember ever to have been used before. So when -presently I was perched in front of him on the withers of his great -horse, I knew no sense but one of entire satisfaction. - -'Later that day we came to a town, whose inhabitants regarded us in -cringing awe. But, perhaps, because its numbers were small, the troop -bore itself with circumspection, careful to give no provocation. - -'The man-at-arms who had befriended me kept me in his train for a month -or more. Then, the exigencies of the campaign against Morea demanding -it, he placed me with the Augustinian fathers at the Grazie near -Cigliano. They cared for me as if I had been a prince's child instead of -a stray waif picked up by the roadside. Thereafter at intervals he would -come to visit me, and these visits, although the intervals between them -grew ever longer, continued for some three or four years, after which we -never saw or heard of him again. Either he died or else lost interest in -the child he had saved and protected. Thereafter the Augustinians were -my only friends. They reared me, and educated me, hoping that I would -one day enter the order. They made endeavours to trace my birthplace and -my family. But without success. And that,' he ended, 'is all my story.' - -'Ah, not quite all,' the friar reminded him. 'There is this matter of -your name.' - -'Ah, yes. On that first day when I rode with my man-at-arms we went to a -tavern in the town I mentioned, and there he delivered me into the hands -of the taverner's wife, to wash and clothe me. It was an odd fancy in -such a man, as I now realise; but I am persuaded that whilst he rode -that morning with my little body resting in the crook of his great arm, -he conceived the notion to adopt me for his own. Men are like that, -their natures made up of contradictory elements; and a rough, even -brutal, soldier of fortune, not normally pitiful, may freakishly be -moved to pity by the sight and touch of a poor waif astray by the -roadside.' And on that he fell to musing. - -'But the name?' the friar reminded him again. - -He laughed. 'Why, when the taverner's wife set me before him, scoured -clean and dressed in a comely suit of green cloth, not unlike the suit I -am wearing now--for I have affected green ever since in memory of him -and of the first fair raiment I ever wore, which was of his -providing--it may be that I presented a comely appearance. He stared at -me in sheer surprise. I can see him now, seated on a three-legged stool -in a patch of sunlight that came through the blurred glass of the -window, one hand on the knee of his booted leg, the other stroking his -crisp black beard, his grey eyes conning me with an increasing -kindliness. - -'"Come hither, boy," he bade me, and held out his hand. - -'I went without fear or hesitation. He rested me against his knee, and -set a hand upon my head still tingling from its recent combing. - -'"What did you tell me is your name?" he asked. - -'"Ilario," I answered him. - -'He stared a moment, then a smile half scornful broke upon his rugged, -weather-beaten face. "Ilario, thou? With that solemn countenance and -those big melancholy eyes?" He ran on in words which I remember, though -I barely caught their meaning then. "Was there ever an Ilario less -hilarious? There's no hilarity about you, child, nor ever has been, I -should judge. Ilario! Faugh! Bellario, rather, with such a face. Is he -not a lovely lad?" He turned me about for the approval of the taverner's -wife, who stood behind me, and she, poor woman, made haste to agree, -with fawning smiles, as she would have agreed with anything uttered by -this dread man who must be conciliated. "Bellario!" he repeated, -savouring the word of his invention with an inventor's pride. "That were -a better name for him, indeed. And by the Host, Bellario he shall be -renamed. Do you hear me, boy? Henceforth you are Bellario."' - -Thus, he explained, the name so lightly bestowed became his own; and -later because of his rapid and rather excessive growth, the monks at the -Grazie fell into the habit of calling him Bellarione, or big Bellario. - -It still wanted an hour or so to noon when the twain emerged from the -forest onto the open road. A little way along this they came upon a -homestead set amid rice-fields, now denuded, and vineyards where men and -women were at the labours of the vintage, singing as they harvested the -grape. And here Bellarion had an instance of how the little brothers of -Saint Francis receive alms without being so much as put to the trouble -of asking for them. For at sight of the friar's grey frock, one of the -labourers, who presently announced himself the master of the homestead, -came hurrying to bid them stay and rest and join the household at -dinner, of which the hour was at hand. - -They sat down to rough, abundant fare in the roomy kitchen, amid the -members of that considerable family, sharing with them the benches set -against a trestle table of well-scoured deal. - -There was a cereal porridge, spread, like mortar, upon a board into -which each dipped a wooden spoon, and, after this, came strips of roast -kid with boiled figs and bread moist and solid as cheese. To wash all -down there was a rough red wine, sharp on the palate, but wholesome and -cool from the cellar, of which the friar drank over-copiously. - -They numbered a round dozen at table; the old peasant and his wife, a -nephew and seven children of full age, three of whom were young women, -red-lipped, dark-skinned, deep-bosomed wenches with lusty brown arms and -bright eyes which were over-busy about Bellarion for his ease. - -Once, across the board, he caught the eye of the friar, and about these -and the fellow's loose lips there played a smile of sly and unpleasant -amusement at Bellarion's uneasiness under these feminine attentions. -Later, when Fra Sulpizio's excessive consumption of wine had brought a -flush to the cheek-bones of that pallid face and set a glitter in the -beady eyes, Bellarion caught him pondering the girls with such a wolfish -leer that all his first instincts against the man were roused again, and -not the thought of his office or the contemplation of his habit could -efface them. - -After dinner the friar must rest awhile, and Bellarion beguiled the time -of waiting, which was also the time of siesta in which all labour is -suspended, by wandering in the vineyard whither the peasant's daughters -led him, and where they engaged him in chatter that he found monstrous -tedious and silly. - -Yet but for this and the fact that the vineyard bordered on the road, -Bellarion's association with the friar would have ended there, and all -his subsequent history must have been different indeed. The minorite's -siesta was shorter than might have been expected, and when something -less than an hour later he resumed his journey, so confused was he by -sleep and wine that he appeared to have forgotten his companion quite. -Had not Bellarion seen him striding away along the road to Casale, it is -certain the young man would have been left behind. - -Nor did he manifest much satisfaction when Bellarion came running after -him. The scowl on his face argued displeasure. But his excuses and his -explanations that he was but half awake permitted the assumption that it -was himself with whom he was displeased. - -He moved briskly now, swinging his long legs in great strides, and -casting ever and anon a glance behind him. - -Bellarion offered a remonstrance at the pace, a reminder that Casale was -but some two leagues away and they had the afternoon in which to reach -it. - -'If I go too fast for you, you may follow at your leisure,' the friar -grumbled. - -It was for an instant in Bellarion's mind to take him at his word, then, -partly perversity, and partly a suspicion which he strove in vain to -stifle, overcame his natural pride. - -'No, no, little brother. I'll accommodate my pace to yours, as befits.' - -A grunt was the only answer; nor, indeed, although Bellarion made -several attempts to resume conversation, was there much said between -them thereafter as they trudged on in the heat of the afternoon along -the road that crosses the fertile plains from Trino to Casale. - -They did not, however, proceed very far on foot. For, being presently -overtaken by a string of six or seven mules with capacious panniers -slung on either flank, the leading beast bestridden by the muleteer, -Bellarion received another demonstration of how a little brother of -Saint Francis may travel upon charity. As the column advanced upon them -at a brisk trot, Fra Sulpizio stepped to the middle of the road, with -arms held wide as if to offer a barrier. - -The muleteer, a brawny, black-bearded fellow, drew rein within a yard of -him. - -'What now, little brother? How can I serve you?' - -'The blessing of God upon you, brother! Will you earn it by a little -charity besought in the name of the Blessed Francis? If your beasts are -not overladen, will you suffer them to carry a poor footsore Franciscan -and this gentle lad into Casale?' - -The muleteer swung one cross-gartered leg over to the side of the other -and slipped to the ground, that he might assist them to mount, each on -one of the more lightly laden mules. Thereupon, having begged and -received Fra Sulpizio's blessing, he climbed back into his own saddle -and they were off at a sharp trot. - -To Bellarion the experience of a saddle, or of what did duty for a -saddle, was as novel as it was painful, and so kept his thoughts most -fully engaged. It was his first essay in equitation, and the speed they -made shook and tossed and bruised him until there was not a bone or -muscle in his body that did not ache. His humour, too, was a little -bruised by the hilarity which his efforts to maintain his seat excited -in his two companions. - -Thankful was he when they came in sight of the brown walls of Casale. -These surged before them almost suddenly in the plain as they took a -bend of the road; for the city's level position was such as to render it -inconspicuous from afar. The road led straight on to the San Stefano -Gate, towards which they clattered over the drawbridge spanning the wide -moat. There was a guard-house in the deep archway, and the door of this -stood open revealing some three or four soldiers lounging within. But -they kept a loose and careless guard, for these were peaceful times. One -of them, a young man in a leather haqueton, but bare of head, sauntered -forward as far as the doorway to fling a greeting at the muleteer, which -was taken by the fellow as permission to pass on. - -From that gateway, cool and cavernous, they emerged into one of the -streets of the busy capital of the warlike State of Montferrat, which at -one time, none so far distant, had bidden fair to assume the lordship of -Northern Italy. - -They proceeded slowly now, perforce. The crooked street, across which -the crazy houses seemed to lean towards each other so as to exclude the -sunlight from all but a narrow middle line, was thronged with people of -all degrees. It was ever a busy thoroughfare, this street of San -Stefano, leading from the gate of that name to the Cathedral Square, and -from his post of vantage on the back of the now ambling mule, Bellarion, -able at last to sit unshaken, looked about him with deep interest upon -manifestations of life known to him hitherto through little more than -the imagination which had informed his extensive reading. - -It was market-day in Casale, and before the shops the way was blocked by -trestle tables, on which the merchants displayed their wares, shouting -their virtues to lure the attention of the wayfarers. - -Through this they came, by low and narrow archways, to an even greater -bustle in the open space before the cathedral, founded, as Bellarion -knew, some seven hundred years before by Liutprand, King of the -Lombards. He turned to stare at the Roman architecture of the red and -white façade, flanked by slender square towers, each surmounted by an -hexagonal extinguisher roof. He was still considering the cruciform -windows when the mule halted and recalled his attention. - -Ahead of him Fra Sulpizio was slipping to the ground, bestowing thanks -and invoking the blessings of God upon the muleteer. Bellarion -dismounted, a little stiff from his ride and very thankful to be at the -end of it. The muleteer flung them a 'God guard you,' over his shoulder, -and the string of mules passed on. - -'And now, brother, we'll seek a supper, if you please,' the friar -announced. - -To seek it was natural enough, but hardly, thought Bellarion, in the -tavern across the square, whither he was led. - -On the threshold, under the withered bough that was hung as a sign above -the portal, the young man demurred, protesting that one of the religious -houses of the town were a fitter resort, and its charitable shelter more -suitable to a friar mendicant. - -'Why, as to charity,' quoth Fra Sulpizio, 'it is on charity I depend. -Old Benvenuto here, the taverner, is my cousin. He will make us free of -his table, and give me news of my own folk at the same time. Is it not -natural and proper that I seek him?' - -Reluctantly Bellarion was forced to agree. And he reminded himself, to -buttress a waning faith in his companion, that not once had he voiced a -suspicion of the friar's actions to which the friar's answer had not -been ready and complete. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE DOOR AJAR - - -The event which was to deviate Bellarion so abruptly and brutally from -the peaceful ways of a student and a scholar, and to extinguish his -cherished hopes of learning Greek at Pavia under the far-famed Messer -Chrysolaras, was upon him so suddenly and so unheralded that he scarcely -realised it until it was overpast. - -He and the friar had supped in the unclean and crowded common room of -the hostelry of the Stag--so called, it is presumed, in honour of the -Lords of Montferrat, who had adopted the stag as their device--and it is -to be confessed that they had supped abundantly and well under the -particular auspices of Ser Benvenuto, the host, who used his cousin Fra -Sulpizio with almost more than cousinly affection. He had placed them a -little apart from the noisy occupants of that low-ceilinged, grimy -chamber, in a recess under a tall, narrow window, standing open, so that -the stench, compounded of garlic, burnt meats, rancid oil, and other -things, which pervaded the apartment was here diluted for them by the -pure evening air. And he waited upon them himself, after a protracted -entertainment with the friar, conducted in a mutter of which nothing -reached Bellarion. He brought them of his best, of which the most -conspicuous item was a lean and stringy fowl, and he produced for them -from his cellar a flask of Valtelline which at least was worthy of a -better table. - -Bellarion, tired and hungry, did justice to the viands, without -permitting himself more than a passing irritation at his companion's -whining expositions of the signal advantages of travelling under the -ægis of the blessed Francis. The truth is that he did not hear more -than the half of all that Fra Sulpizio found occasion to urge. For one -thing, in his greed, the friar spoke indistinctly, slobbering the while -at his food; for another, the many tenants of the inn were very noisy. -They made up a motley crowd, but had this in common, that all belonged -to the lower walks of life, as their loud, coarse speech, freely -interlarded with blasphemy and obscenity, abundantly bore witness. There -were some peasants from Romaglia or Torcella, or perhaps from Terranova -beyond the Po, who had come there to market, rude, brawny men for the -most part, accompanied by their equally brawny, barelegged women. There -were a few labourers of the town and others who may have been artisans, -one or two of them, indeed, so proclaimed by their leather aprons; and -at one table a group of four men and a woman were very boisterous over -their wine. The men were soldiers, so to be judged at a glance from -their leather haquetons and studded girdles with heavy daggers slung -behind. The woman with them was a gaudy, sinuous creature with haggard, -painted cheeks, whose mirth, now shrill, now raucous, was too easily -moved. When first he heard it Bellarion had shuddered. - -'She laughs,' he had told the friar, 'as one might laugh in hell.' - -For only answer Fra Sulpizio had looked at him and then veiled his eyes, -almost as if, himself, he were suppressing laughter. - -Soon, however, Bellarion grew accustomed to the ever-recurring sound and -to the rest of the din, the rattle of platters and drinking-cans, the -growling of a dog over a bone it had discovered among the foul rushes -rotting on the bare earthen floor. - -Having eaten, he sat back in his chair, a little torpid now, and drowsy. -Last night he had lain in the open, and he had been afoot almost since -dawn. It is little wonder that presently, whilst again the taverner was -muttering with his cousin the friar, he should have fallen into a doze. - -He must have slept some little while, a half-hour, perhaps, for when he -awakened the patch of sunlight had faded from the wall across the alley, -visible from the window under which they sat. This he did not notice at -the time, but remembered afterwards. In the moment of awakening, his -attention was drawn by the friar, who had risen, and instantly -afterwards by something else, beyond the friar. At the open window -behind and above Fra Sulpizio there was the face of a man. Upon the edge -of the sill, beneath his face, were visible the fingers by which he had -hoisted himself thither. The questing eyes met Bellarion's, and seemed -to dilate a little; the mouth gaped suddenly. But before Bellarion could -cry out or speak, or even form the intention of doing either, the face -had vanished. And it was the face of the peasant with whom they had -dined that day. - -The friar, warned by Bellarion's quickening stare, had swung round to -look behind him. But he was too late; the window space was already -empty. - -'What is it?' he asked, suddenly apprehensive. 'What did you see?' - -Bellarion told him, and was answered by an obscenely morphological oath, -which left him staring. The friar's countenance was suddenly -transfigured. A spasm of mingled fear and anger bared his fangs; his -beady eyes grew cruel and sinister. He swung aside as if to depart -abruptly, then as abruptly halted where he stood. - -On the threshold surged the peasant, others following him. - -The friar sank again to his stool at the table, and composed his -features. - -'Yonder he sits, that friar rogue! That thief!' Thus the peasant as he -advanced. - -The cry, and, more than all, the sight of the peasant's companions, -imposed a sudden silence upon the babel of that room. First came a young -man, stalwart and upright, in steel cap and gorget, booted and spurred, -a sword swinging from his girdle, a dagger hanging on his hip behind; a -little crimson feather adorning his steel cap proclaiming him an officer -of the Captain of Justice of Casale. After him came two of his men armed -with short pikes. - -Straight to that table in the window recess the peasant led the way. -'There he is! This is he!' Belligerently he thrust his face into the -friar's, leaning his knuckles on the table's edge. 'Now, rogue ...' he -was beginning furiously, when Fra Sulpizio, raising eyes of mild -astonishment to meet his anger, gently interrupted him. - -'Little brother, do you speak so to me? Do you call me rogue? Me?' He -smiled sadly, and so calm and gently wistful was his manner that it -clearly gave the peasant pause. 'A sinner I confess myself, for sinners -are we all. But I am conscious of no sin against you, brother, whose -charity was so freely given me only to-day.' - -That saintly demeanour threw the peasant's simple wits into confusion. -He was thrust aside by the officer. - -'What is your name?' - -Fra Sulpizio looked at him, and his look was laden with reproach. - -'My brother!' he cried. - -'Attend to me!' the officer barked at him. 'This man charges you with -theft.' - -'With theft!' Fra Sulpizio paused and sighed. 'It shall not move me to -the sin of anger, brother. It is too foolish: a thing for laughter. What -need have I to steal, when under the protection of Saint Francis I have -but to ask for the little that I need? What use to me is worldly gear? -But what does he say I stole?' - -It was the peasant who answered him. - -'Thirty florins, a gold chain, and a silver cross from a chest in the -room where you rested.' - -Bellarion remembered how the friar had sought to go slinking off alone -from the peasant homestead, and how fearfully he had looked behind him -as they trudged along the road until overtaken by the muleteer. And by -the muleteer it would be, he thought, that they had now been tracked. -The officer at the gate would have told the peasant of how the friar and -his young companion in greed had ridden in; then the peasant would have -sought the muleteer, and the rest was clear: as clear as it was to him -that his companion was a thieving rogue, and that his own five ducats -were somewhere about that scoundrel's person. - -In future, he swore, he would be guided by his own keen instincts and -the evidence of his senses only, and never again allow a preconception -to befool him. Meanwhile, the friar was answering: - -'So that not only am I charged with stealing; but I have returned evil -for good; I have abused charity. It is a heavy charge, my brother, and -very rashly brought.' - -There was a murmur of sympathy from the staring, listening company, -amongst whom many lawless ones were, by the very instinct of their kind, -ready to range themselves against any who stood for law. - -The friar opened his arms, wide and invitingly: - -'Let me not depart from my vows of humility in the heat of my own -defence. I will say nothing. Do you, sir, make search upon me for the -gear which this man says I have stolen, though all his evidence is that -it chanced to be in a room in which for a little while I rested.' - -'To accuse a priest!' said some one in a tone of indignation, and a -murmur arose at once in sympathy. - -It moved the young officer to mirth. He half swung on his heel so as to -confront those mutterers. - -'A priest!' he jeered. Then, his keen eyes flashed once more upon the -friar. 'When did you last say Mass?' - -Before that simple question Fra Sulpizio seemed to lose some of his -assurance. Without even giving him time to answer, the officer fired -another question. 'What is your name?' - -'My name?' The friar was looking at him from eyes that seemed to have -grown beadier than ever in that white, pitted face. 'I'll not expose -myself to ribald unbelief. You shall have written proof of my name. -Behold.' And from his gown he fetched a parchment, which he thrust under -the soldier's nose. - -The officer conned it a moment, then his eyes went over the edge of it -back to the face of the man that held it. - -'How can I read it upside down?' - -The friar's hands, which shook a little, made haste to turn the sheet. -As he did so Bellarion perceived two things; that the sheet had been -correctly held at first; and that it was his own lost letter. He had a -glimpse of the Abbot's seal as the parchment was turned. - -He was momentarily bewildered by a discovery that was really threefold: -first, the friar was indeed the thief who had rifled his scrip; second, -he must be in a more desperate case than Bellarion suspected, to seek to -cloak himself under a false identity; and, third, the pretence that the -document proffered upside down was a test to discover whether the fellow -could read, a trap into which the knave had tumbled headlong. - -The officer laughed aloud, well pleased with his own cleverness. 'I knew -you were no clerk,' he mocked him. 'I have more than a suspicion who you -really are. Though you may have stolen a friar's habit, it would need -more than that to cover your ugly, pock-marked face and that scar on -your neck. You are Lorenzaccio da Trino, my friend; and there's a halter -waiting for you.' - -The mention of that name made a stir in the tavern, and brought its -tenants a step nearer to the group about that table in the window -recess. It was a name known probably to every man present with the -single exception of Bellarion, the name of a bandit of evil fame -throughout Montferrat and Savoy. Something of the kind Bellarion may -have guessed. But at that moment the recovery of the Abbot's letter was -his chief concern. - -'That parchment's mine!' he cried. 'It was stolen from me this morning -by this false friar.' - -The interpolation diverted attention to himself. After a moment's blank -stare the officer laughed again. Bellarion began actively to dislike -that laugh of his. He was too readily moved to it. - -'Why, here's Paul disowning Peter. Oh, to be sure, the associate becomes -the victim when the master rogue is taken. It's a stale trick, young -cockerel. It won't serve in Casale.' - -Bellarion bristled. He assumed a great dignity. 'Young sir, you may come -to regret your words. I am the man named in that parchment, as the Abbot -of the Grazie of Cigliano can testify.' - -'No need to plague Messer the Abbot,' the officer mocked him. 'A taste -of the cord, my lad, a hoist or two, and you'll vomit all the truth.' - -'The hoist!' Bellarion felt the skin roughening along his spine. - -Was it to be taken for granted that he was a rogue, simply from his -association with this spurious friar; and were his bones to be broken by -the torturers to make him accuse himself? Was this how justice was -dispensed? - -He was bewildered, and, as he afterwards confessed, he grew suddenly -afraid. And then there was a cry from the peasant, and things happened -quickly and unexpectedly. - -Whilst the officer's attention had been on Bellarion, the false friar -had moved very soft and stealthily nearer to the window. The peasant it -was who detected the movement and realised its import. - -'Lay hands on him!' he cried, in sudden alarm lest his florins and the -rest should take flight again, and, that alarm spurring him, himself he -leapt to seize Lorenzaccio by arm and shoulder. Fury blazed from the -bandit's beady eyes; his yellow fangs were bared in a grin of rage; -something flashed in his right hand, and then his knife sank into the -stomach of his assailant. It was a wicked, vicious, upward, ripping -thrust, like the stroke of a boar's tusk, and the very movement that -delivered it flung the peasant off, so that he hurtled into the arms of -the two soldiers, and momentarily hampered their advance. That moment -was all that Lorenzaccio needed. He swung aside, and with a vigour and -agility to execute, as remarkable as the rapidity of the conception -itself, he hoisted himself to the sill of the narrow, open window, -crouched there a second, measuring his outward leap, and was gone. - -He left a raging confusion behind him, and an exclamatory din above -which rang fierce and futile commands from the Podestà's young officer. -One of the men-at-arms supported the swooning body of the peasant, -whilst his fellow vainly and stupidly sought to follow by the way -Lorenzaccio had gone, but failed because he lacked the bandit's vigour. - -Bellarion, horror-stricken and half stupefied, stood staring at the -wretched peasant whose hurt he judged to be mortal. He was roused by a -gentle tugging at his sleeve. He half turned to find himself looking -into the painted face of the woman whose laughter earlier had jarred his -sensibilities. It was a handsome face, despite the tawdriness it derived -from the raddled cheeks and too vividly reddened lips. The girl--she was -little more--looked kindly concern upon him out of dark, slanting eyes -that were preternaturally bright. - -'Away, away!' she muttered feverishly. 'This is your chance. Bestir!' - -'My chance?' he echoed, and was conscious of the colour mounting to his -cheeks. - -His first emotion was resentment of this misjudgment; his next a foolish -determination to stand firm and advance his explanations, insisting upon -justice being done him. All this whilst he had flung his question 'My -chance?' With the next heartbeat he perceived the strength of the -appearances against him. This poor drab, these evil ones about her and -him, offering him their sympathy only because they believed him made kin -with them by evil, advised the only course a sane man in his case must -follow. - -'Make haste, child!' the woman urged him breathlessly. 'Quick, or it -will be too late.' - -He looked beyond her at the others crowding there, to meet glances that -seemed to invite, to urge, and from one bloated face, which he -recognized for Benvenuto's, came an eloquent wink, whilst the fellow -jerked a dirty thumb backwards towards the door in a gesture there was -no misunderstanding. Then, as if Bellarion's sudden resolve had been -reflected in his face, the press before him parted, men and women -shouldered and elbowed a way for him. He plunged forward. The company -closed behind him, opening farther ahead, closed again as he advanced -and again opened before him, until his way to the door was clear. And -behind him he could hear the young officer's voice raised above the din -in oaths and imprecations, urging his men-at-arms to clear a way with -their pikes, calling upon those other soldiers lounging there to lend a -hand, so as to make sure, at least, of one of these two rogues. - -But that rascally company, it seemed, was skilled in the tactics the -occasion needed. Honest men there may have been, and no doubt there were -amongst them. But they were outnumbered; and, moreover, honest though -they might be, they were poor folk, and therefore so far in sympathy -perhaps with an unfortunate lad as not to hinder him even if they would -not actively help. And meanwhile the others, making pretence of being no -more than spectators, solicitous for the condition of the peasant who -had been stabbed, pressed so closely about the officer and his men that -the latter had no room in which to swing their pikes. - -All this Bellarion guessed, by the sounds behind him, rather than saw. -For he gave no more than a single backward glance at that seething group -as he flung across the threshold, out of that evil-smelling chamber into -the clean air of the square. He turned to the left, and made off towards -the cathedral, his first thought being to seek sanctuary there. Then, -realising that thus he would but walk into a trap, he dived down an -alley just as the officer gained the tavern door, and with a view-halloo -started after him, his two pikemen and the other soldiers clattering at -his heels. - -As Bellarion raced like a stag before hounds down that narrow street of -mean houses in the shadow of Liutprand's great church, it may well be -that he recalled the Abbot's parting words, '_Pax multa in cella, foris -autem plurima bella_,' and wished himself back in the tranquillity of -the cloisters, secure from the perils and vexations of secular -existence. - -This breathless flight of his seemed to him singularly futile and -purposeless. He knew what he was running from; but not what he might be -running to, nor indeed whither to run at all. And for escape, knowledge -of the latter is as important as of the former. Had not instinct--the -animal instinct of self-preservation--been stronger than his reason, he -would have halted, saved his breath, and waited for his pursuers to -overtake him. For he was too intelligent to wear himself in attempting -to escape the inescapable. Fortunately for him, the instinct of the -hunted animal sent him headlong forward in despite of reason. And -presently there was reason, too, to urge him. This when he realized -that, after all, his pursuers were not as fleet of foot as himself. Be -it from their heavy boots and other accoutrements, be it from his -greater youth and more Spartan habits of life, he was rapidly -outdistancing them, and thus might yet succeed in shaking them off -altogether. Then, too, he reflected that if he kept a straight course in -his flight, he must end by reaching the wall of this accursed city, and -by following this must gain one of the gates into the open country. It -was close on sunset. But there would be at least a full hour yet before -the gates were closed. - -Heartened, he sped on, and only once was he in any danger. That was when -the straight course he laid himself brought him out upon an open square, -along one side of which ran a long grey building with a noble arcade on -the ground level. There was a considerable concourse of people moving -here both in the open and under the arches, and several turned to stare -at that lithe green figure as it sped past. Caring nothing what any -might think, and concerned only to cross that open space as quickly as -possible, Bellarion gained the narrow streets beyond. Still intent upon -keeping a straight line, he turned neither to right nor to left. And -presently he found himself moving no longer between houses, but along a -grass-grown lane, between high brown walls where the ground underfoot -was soft and moist. He eased the pace a little, to give his aching lungs -relief; nor knew how nearly spent he was until the peace of his -surroundings induced that lessening of effort. It lessened further, -until he was merely walking, panting now, and gasping, and mopping the -sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He had been too reckless, -he now told himself. The pace had been too hot. He should have known -that it must defeat him. Unless by now he had shaken off those pursuers, -or others they might have enlisted--and that was his great fear--he was -a lost man. - -He came to a standstill, listening. He could hear, he fancied, sounds in -the distance which warned him that the pursuit still held. Panic spurred -his flanks again. But though it might be urgent to resume his flight, it -was more urgent still to pause first to recover breath. - -He had come to a halt beside a stout oaken door which was studded with -great nails and set in a deep archway in that high wall. To take his -moment's rest he leaned against these solid timbers. And then, to his -amazement, under the weight of his body, the ponderous door swung -inwards, so that he almost fell through it into a space of lawn and -rosebeds narrowly enclosed within tall boxwood hedges which were very -dense and trimly cut. - -It was as if a miracle had happened, as if that door had been unlocked -for his salvation by supernatural agency. Thus thought he in that moment -of exaggerated reaction from his panic, nor stayed to reflect that in -entering and in closing and bolting that door, he was as likely to -entrap as to deliver himself. There was a deep sill, some two feet above -the ground, on the inner side. On this Bellarion sat down to indulge the -luxury of a sense of security. But not for very long. Presently steps, -quick and numerous, came pattering down that lane, to an accompaniment -of breathless voices. - - -Bellarion listened, and smiled a little. They would never guess that he -had found this door ajar. They would pass on, continuing their now -fruitless quest, whilst he could linger until night descended. Perhaps -he would spend the night there, and be off in the morning by the time -the gates of the city should have been reopened. - -Thus he proposed. And then the steps outside came to a sudden halt, and -his heart almost halted with them. - -'He paused hereabouts,' said a gruff voice. 'Look at the trodden -ground.' - -That was a shrew-eyed sleuth, thought Bellarion as he listened -fearfully. - -'Does it matter?' quoth another. 'Will you stand pausing too whilst he -makes off? Come on. He went this way, we know.' - -'Hold, numskull!' It was the gruff voice again. 'He came this way, but -he went no farther. Bah! Peace, don't argue with me, man. Use your eyes. -It's plain to see. No one has gone past this door to-day. He's here.' -And on the word a heavy blow, as from a pike butt, smote the timbers, -and brought Bellarion to his feet as if he, himself, had been struck. - -'But this door is always locked, and he could scarcely have climbed the -wall.' - -'He's here, I say. Don't argue. Two men to guard the door, lest he come -forth again. The rest with me to the palace. Come.' His voice was harsh -and peremptory. There were no further words in answer. Steps moved off -quickly returning up the lane. Steps paced outside the door, and there -was a mutter of voices of the men placed on guard. - -Bellarion wondered if prayer would help him. He could think of nothing -else that would. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -SANCTUARY - - -These grounds into which he had stepped through that doorway in the red -wall seemed, so far as the tall hedges of his _hortus inclusus_ would -permit him to discover, to be very spacious. Somewhere in their -considerable extent there would surely be a hiding-place into which he -could creep until the hunt was over. - -He went forward to investigate, stepping cautiously towards a deep -archway cut in the dense boxwood. In this archway he paused to survey a -prospect that evoked thoughts of Paradise. Beyond a wide sweep of lawn, -whereon two peacocks strutted, sparkled the waters of a miniature lake, -where a pavilion of white marble, whose smooth dome and graceful pillars -suggested a diminutive Roman temple, appeared to float. Access to this -was gained from the shore by an arched marble bridge over whose white -parapet trailing geraniums flamed. - -From this high place the ground fell away in a flight of two terraces, -and the overflow from the lake went cascading over granite boulders into -tanks of granite set in each of them, with shading vine trellises above -that were heavy now with purple fruit. Below, another emerald lawn was -spread, sheltered on three sides within high walls of yew, fantastically -cut at the summit into the machicolations of an embattled parapet and -bearing at intervals deep arched niches in which marble statues gleamed -white against the dusky green. Here figures sauntered, courtly figures -of men and women more gaudy and glittering in their gay raiment than the -peacocks nearer at hand; and faintly on the still warm air of evening -came the throbbing of a lute which one of them was idly thrumming. - -Beyond, on the one open side another shallow terrace rose and upon this -a great red house that was half palace, half fortress, flanked at each -side by a massive round tower with covered battlements. - -So much Bellarion's questing eyes beheld, and then he checked his -breath, for his sharp ears had caught the sound of a stealthy step just -beyond the hedge that screened him. An instant later he was confronted -by a woman, who with something furtive and cautious in her movements -appeared suddenly before him in the archway. - -For a half-dozen heartbeats they stood thus, each regarding the other; -and the vision of her in that breathless moment was destined never to -fade from Bellarion's mind. She was of middle height, and her -close-fitting gown of sapphire blue laced in gold from neck to waist -revealed her to be slender. There was about her an air of delicate -dignity, of command tempered by graciousness. For the rest, her hair was -of a tawny golden, a shade deeper than the golden threads of the -jewelled caul in which it was confined; her face was small and pale, too -long in the nose, perhaps, for perfect symmetry, yet for that very -reason the more challenging in its singular, elusive beauty. Great -wistful eyes of brown, wide-set and thoughtful, were charged with -questions as they conned Bellarion. They were singularly searching, -singularly compelling eyes, and they drew from him forthwith a frank -confession. - -'Lady!' he faltered. 'Of your charity! I am pursued.' - -'Pursued!' She moved a step, and her expression changed. The wistfulness -was replaced by concern in those great sombre eyes. - -'I am likely to be hanged if taken,' he added to quicken the excellent -emotions he detected. - -'By whom are you pursued?' - -'An officer of the Captain of Justice and his men.' - -He would have added more. He would have said something to assure her -that in seeking her pity he sought it for an innocent man betrayed by -appearances. But she gave signs that her pity needed no such stimulant. -She made a little gesture of distraction, clasping her long, tapering -hands over which the tight, blue sleeves descended to the knuckles. She -flung a swift, searching glance behind her, from the green archway to -the open spaces. - -'Come,' she said, and beckoned him forward. 'I will hide you.' And then -on a note of deeper anxiety, for which he blessed her tender, charitable -heart, she added: 'If you are found here, all is lost. Crouch low and -follow me.' - -Obediently he followed, almost on all fours, creeping beside a -balustrade of mellow brick that stood breast high to make a parapet for -the edge of that very spacious terrace. - -Ahead of him the lady moved sedately and unhurried, thereby discovering -to Bellarion virtues of mental calm and calculating wit. A fool, he told -himself, would have gone in haste, and thus provoked attention and -inquiry. - -They came in safety to the foot of the arched marble bridge, which -Bellarion now perceived to be crossed by broad steps, ascending to a -platform at the summit, and descending thence again to the level of the -temple on the water. - -'Wait. Here we must go with care.' She turned to survey the gardens -below, and as she looked he saw her blench, saw the golden-brown eyes -dilate as if in fear. He could not see what she saw--the glint of arms -upon hurrying men emerging from the palace. But the guess he made went -near enough to the fact before she cried out: 'Too late! If you ascend -now you will be seen.' And she told him of the soldiers. Again she gave -evidence of her shrewd sense. 'Do you go first,' she bade him, 'and on -hands and knees. If I follow I may serve as a screen for you, and we -must hope they will not see you.' - -'The hope,' said Bellarion, 'is slender as the screen your slenderness -would afford me, lady.' He was lying now flat on the ground at her feet. -'If only it had pleased Heaven to make you as fat as you are charitable, -I'd not hesitate. As it is, I think I see a better way.' - -She stared down at him, a little frown puckering her white brow. But for -the third time in that brief space she proved herself a woman whose mind -seized upon essentials and disregarded lesser things. - -'A better way? What way, then?' - -He had been using his eyes. Beyond the domed pavilion a tongue of land -thrust out into the lake, from which three cypresses rose in black -silhouette against the afterglow of sunset, whilst a little alder-bush -its branches trailing in the water blunted the island's point. - -'This way,' said Bellarion, and went writhing like an eel in the -direction of the water. - -'Where will you go?' she cried; and added sharply as he reached the -edge: 'It is very deep; two fathoms at the shallowest.' - -'So much the better,' said Bellarion. 'They'll be the less likely to -seek me in it.' - -He took a succession of deep breaths to prepare himself for the long -submersion. - -'Ah, but wait!' she cried on a strained note. 'Tell me, at least ...' - -She broke off with a catch in her breath. He was gone. He had slipped -in, taking the water quietly as an otter, and save for the wave that -sped across the lake no sign of him remained. - -The lady stood breathlessly at gaze waiting to see the surface broken by -his emerging head. But she waited vainly and in growing alarm. The -moments passed. Voices behind her became audible and grew in volume. The -men-at-arms were advancing swiftly, the courtiers following to see the -sport their captain promised. - -Suddenly from the alder-bush on the island's point a startled water-hen -broke forth in squawking terror, and went scudding across the lake, its -feet trailing along the water into which it finally splashed again -within a yard of the farther shore. From within the bush itself some -slight momentary disturbance sent a succession of ripples across the -lesser ripples whipped up by the evening breeze. Then all grew still -again, including the alarms of the watching lady who had perceived and -read these signs. - -She drew closer about her white, slender shoulders a little mantle edged -with miniver, and moved like one impelled by natural curiosity to meet -the soldiers who came surging up the terrace steps. There were four of -them, led by that same young officer who had invaded the hostelry of the -Stag in quest of Lorenzaccio. - -'What is this?' the lady greeted him, her tone a little hard as if his -abrupt invasion of her garden were in itself an offence. 'What are you -seeking here?' - -'A man, madonna,' the captain answered her shortly, having at the moment -no breath for more. - -Her sombre eyes went past him to dwell upon the three glittering -gallants in the courtly group of five that followed at the soldier's -heels. - -'A man?' she echoed. 'I do not remember to have seen such a portent -hereabouts in days.' - -Of the three at whom the shaft of her irony was directed two laughed -outright in shameless sycophancy; the third flushed scarlet, his glance -resentful. He was the youngest by some years, and still a boy. He had -her own brown eyes and tawny hair, and otherwise resembled her, save -that his countenance lacked the firm strength that might be read in -hers. His slim, graceful, stripling figure was gorgeously arrayed in a -kilted tunic of gold brocade with long, green, deeply foliated sleeves, -the ends of which reached almost to his toes. His girdle was of hammered -gold whence hung a poniard with a jewelled hilt, and a ruby glowed in -his bulging cap of green silk. One of his legs was cased in green, the -other in yellow, and he wore a green shoe on the yellow foot, and a -yellow on the green. This, in the sixteenth year of his age, was the -Lord Gian Giacomo Paleologo, sovereign Marquis of Montferrat. - -His two male companions were Messer Corsario, his tutor, a foxy-faced -man of thirty, whose rich purple gown would have been more proper to a -courtier than a pedant, and the Lord Castruccio da Fenestrella, a young -man of perhaps five and twenty, very gorgeous in a scarlet houppelande, -and not unhandsome, despite his pallid cheeks, thin lank hair, and -rather shifty eyes. It was upon him that Giacomo now turned in -peevishness. - -'Do not laugh, Castruccio.' - -Meanwhile the captain was flinging out an arm in command to his -followers. 'Two of you to search the enclosure yonder about the gate. -Beat up the hedges. Two of you with me.' He swung to the lady before she -could answer her brother. 'You have seen no one, highness?' - -Her highness was guilty of an evasion. 'Should I not tell you if I had?' - -'Yet a man certainly entered here not many minutes since by the -garden-door.' - -'You saw him enter?' - -'I saw clear signs that he had entered.' - -'Signs? What signs?' - -He told her. Her mobile lips expressed a doubt before she uttered it. - -'A poor warrant that for this intrusion, Ser Bernabó.' - -The captain grew uncomfortable. 'Highness, you mistake my motives.' - -'I hope I do,' she answered lightly, and turned her shoulder to him. - -He commanded his two waiting followers. The others were already in the -enclosed garden. 'To the temple!' - -At that she turned again, her eyes indignant. 'Without my leave? The -temple, sir, is my own private bower.' - -The captain, hesitated, ill-at-ease. 'Hardly at present, highness. It is -in the hands of the workmen; and this fellow may be hiding there.' - -'He is not. He could not be in the temple without my knowledge. I am but -come from there.' - -'Your memory, highness, is at fault. As I approached, you were coming -along the terrace from the enclosed garden.' - -She flushed under the correction. And there was a pause before she -slowly answered him: 'Your eyes are too good, Bernabó.' In a tone that -made him change countenance she added: 'I shall remember it, together -with your reluctance to accept my word.' Contemptuously she dismissed -him. 'Pray, make your search without regard for me.' - -The captain stood a moment hesitating. Then he bowed stiffly from the -hips, tossed his head in silent command to his men, and so led them off, -over the marble bridge. - -After he had drawn blank, like the soldiers he had sent to search the -enclosure, he returned, baffled, with his four fellows at his heels. The -Princess Valeria, wandered now in company with those other gay ones -along the terrace by the balustrade. - -'You come empty-handed, then,' she rallied him. - -'I'll stake my life he entered the garden,' said the captain sullenly. - -'You are wise in staking something of no value.' - -He disregarded alike the taunt and the titter it drew from her -companions. 'I must report to his highness. Do you say positively, -madonna, that you did not see this fellow?' - -'Lord, man! Do you still presume to question me? Besides, if you're so -confident, why waste time in questions? Continue your search.' - -The captain addressed himself to her companions. 'You, sirs and ladies, -did you have no glimpse of this knave--a tall youngster, dressed in -green?' - -'In green!' cried the Lady Valeria. 'Now that is interesting. In green? -A dryad, perhaps; or, perhaps my brother here.' - -The captain shook his head. 'That is not possible.' - -'Nor am I in green,' added the young marquis. 'Nor have I been outside -the garden. She mocks you, Messer Bernabó. It is her cursed humour. We -have seen no one.' - -'Nor you, Messer Corsario?' Pointedly now the captain addressed the -pedant, as by his years and office the likeliest, to return him a -serious answer. - -'Indeed, no,' the gentleman replied. 'But then,' he added, 'we were some -way off, as you observed. Madonna, however, who was up here, asserts -that she saw no one.' - -'Ah! But does she so assert it?' the captain insisted. - -The Lady Valeria looked him over in chill disdain. 'You all heard what I -said. Repetition is a weariness.' - -'You see,' the captain appealed to them. - -Her brother came to his assistance. 'Why can't you answer plainly, and -have done, Valeria? Why must you forever remember to be witty? Why can't -you just say "no"?' - -'Because I've answered plainly enough already, and my answer has been -disregarded. Ser Bernabó shall have no opportunity to repeat an offence -I am not likely to forget.' She turned away. 'Come, Dionara, and you, -Isotta. It is growing chill.' - -With her ladies obediently following her she descended towards the lower -gardens and the palace. - -Messer Bernabó stroked his chin, a man nonplussed. The Lord Castruccio -chided him. - -'You're a fool, Bernabó, to anger her highness. Besides, man, what -mare's nest are you hunting?' - -The soldier was pale with vexation. 'You saw as I did that, as we -crossed the gardens, her highness was coming from that enclosure.' - -'Yes, booby,' said Corsario, 'and we saw as you did that she came alone. -If a man entered by that gate as you say, he got no farther than the -enclosed garden, and this your men have searched already. You gain -nothing by betraying suspicions. Who and what do you suppose this man?' - -'Suppose! I know.' - -'What do you know?' - -'That he is a rogue, a brigand scoundrel, associate of Lorenzaccio da -Trino who slipped through our fingers an hour ago.' - -'By the Host!' cried Corsario, in genuine surprise. 'I thought ...' He -checked abruptly, and dissembled the break by a laugh. 'And can you -dream that the Lady Valeria would harbour a robber?' - -'Can I dream, can any man dream, what the Lady Valeria will do?' - -'I could dream that she'll put your eyes out if ever the power is hers,' -lisped the Lord of Fenestrella with the malice that was of his nature. -'You heard her say they are too good, and that she'll remember it. You -should be less ready to tell her all you see. He is a fool who helps to -make a woman wise.' - -The Marquis laughed to applaud his friend's philosophy, and his glance -approved him fawningly. - -The young soldier considered them. - -'Sirs, I will resume my search.' - -When they had searched until night closed in upon the world, -investigating every hedge and bush that might afford concealment, the -captain came to think that either he had been at fault in concluding -that the fugitive had sought shelter in the garden, or else the rogue -had found some way out and was now beyond their reach. - -He retired crestfallen, and the three gentlemen who had accompanied his -search and who did not conceal their amusement at its failure went in to -supper. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -THE PRINCESS - - -At about the time that the young Lord of Montferrat was sitting down -belatedly to table with his tutor and his gentleman-in-waiting, a very -bedraggled and chilled Bellarion, who for two hours had been standing -immersed to the chin in water, his head amid the branches of the -alder-bush, came cautiously forth at last. He ventured no farther, -however, than the shallow tongue of land behind the marble pavilion, -ready at the first alarm to plunge back into his watery concealment. - -There he lay, shivering in the warm night, and taking stock of his -plight, an exercise which considerably diminished him in his -self-confidence and self-esteem. - -'Experience,' he had been wont to say--being rather addicted, I gather, -to the making of epigrammatic formulæ--'is the hornbook of fools, -unnecessary for the practical purposes of life to the man of wit.' - -It is possible that he was tempted to revise this dictum in the light of -the events of that disastrous day, recognising that a little of the -worldly experience he despised might have saved him most if not all of -its disasters. If he admitted this without yet admitting the fallacy of -his aphorism, it was only to reach a conclusion even more humiliating. -He had strayed from lack of experience, therefore it followed, he told -himself, that he was a fool. That is one of the dangers of reasoning by -syllogism. - -He had accepted the companionship of a man whose face pronounced him a -scoundrel, and whose various actions in the course of the day confirmed -the message of his face, and this for no better reason than that the man -wore a Franciscan's frock. If his sense did not apprise him that a -Franciscan's habit does not necessarily cover a Saint Francis, there was -a well-known proverb--_cucullum non facit monachum_--which he might have -remembered. Because sense and memory had alike failed him, he had lost -his purse, he had lost the letter which was his passport for the long -and arduous journey before him, he had narrowly escaped losing his -liberty, and he would be lucky if he were quit of all this mischief -without losing his life. The lesser evils of the ruin of a serviceable -suit of clothes and the probability of taking a rheum as the result of -his immersion went for the moment disregarded. - -Next he considered the rashness, the senselessness, of his seeking -sanctuary in this garden. Was worldly experience really necessary, he -wondered, to teach a man that the refuge of which he does not know the -exit may easily become a trap? Had he not excelled at the Grazie as a -chess-player from his care and ability in pondering the moves that must -follow the immediate one? Had he read--amongst other works on the art of -war which had ever held his mind in fascination--the 'De Re Militari' of -Silvius Faustus to so little purpose that he could not remember one of -its first axioms, to the effect that he is an imprudent leader who goes -into action without making sure that his line of retreat is open? - -By such questions as these did Bellarion chastise himself as he crouched -shivering in the dark. Still lower did he crouch, making himself one -with the earth itself, when presently a moon, like a golden slice of -melon, emerged from behind the black bulk of the palace, and shed a -ghostly radiance upon those gardens. He set himself then at last to seek -a course by which he might extricate himself from this trap and from -this city of Casale. - -He was still far from any solution of that problem when a sound of -voices recalled him to more immediate things. Two figures mounting the -steps of the terrace had to him the appearance of two black human -silhouettes that were being slowly pushed up out of the ground. Their -outline defined them for women, even before he made out their voices to -be feminine. He wondered would one of them be the gracious and beautiful -lady who had given him sanctuary, a lady whose like hitherto he had seen -only painted on canvas above altars and in mural frescoes, the existence -of whose living earthly counterparts had been to him a matter of some -subconscious doubt. - -At the height of the bridge, so tremulously reflected in silver on the -black water below, the ladies paused, speaking the while in subdued -voices. Then they came down the nearer steps and vanished into the -temple, whence presently one of them emerged upon that narrow, shallow -promontory, calling softly, and very vaguely: - -'Olà! Olà! Messer! Messer!' - -He recognised the voice, and recognising it realised that its quality -was individual and unforgettable. - -To the Lady Valeria as she stood there, it seemed that a part of the -promontory's clay at her feet heaved itself up amorphously, writhed into -human shape, and so resolved itself into the man she sought. She checked -a startled outcry, as she understood the nature of this materialisation. - -'You will be very wet, sir, and cold.' Her voice was gentle and -solicitous, very different from that in which she had addressed her -brother's companions and the captain. - -Bellarion was quite frank. 'As wet as a drowned man, and very nearly as -cold.' And he added: 'I would I could be sure I shall not yet be hung up -to dry.' - -The lady laughed softly at his rueful humour. 'Nay, now, we have brought -the means to make you dry more comfortably. But it was very rash of you -to have entered here without first making sure that you were not -observed.' - -'I was not observed, madonna. Else be sure I should not have entered.' - -He caught in the gloom the sound of her breath indrawn with the hiss of -sudden apprehension. 'You were not observed? And yet ... Oh, it is just -as I was fearing.' And then, more briskly, and before he could reply, -'But come,' she urged him. 'We have brought fresh clothes for you. When -you are dry you shall tell me all.' - -Readily enough he allowed himself to be conducted within the single -circular chamber of the marble pavilion, where Madonna Dionara, her -lady, awaited. The place was faintly lighted by a lantern placed on a -marble table. It contained besides this some chairs that were swathed in -coarse sheets, and a long wooden coffer, carved and painted, in shape -and size like a sarcophagus, from which another such sheet had just been -swept. The three open spaces, between twin pillars facing towards the -palace, were now closed by leather curtains. The circular marble floor -was laid out as a dial, with the hours in Roman figures of carved brass -sunk into the polished surface, a matter this which puzzled him. He was -not to guess that this marble pavilion was a copy in miniature of a -Roman temple of Apollo, and that in the centre of the domed roof there -was a circular opening for the sun, through which its rays so entered -that as the day progressed a time-telling shadow moved across the hours -figured in their circle on the floor. - -Overhead there was a confusion of poles and scaffolding and trailing -dust-sheets, and in a corner an array of pails and buckets, and all the -litter of suspended painters' work. Dimly, on one of the walls, he could -make out a fresco that was half painted, the other half in charcoal -outline. - -On the table, which was swathed like all the other furnishings, the -lantern revealed a bundle of red garments lately loosed from a confining -cloak of black. Into these he was bidden to change at once. Red, he was -told, had been deliberately chosen because all that the captain seemed -to know of him was that he had been dressed in green. So that not merely -would his protectress render him dry and warm again; she would disguise -him. The ladies meanwhile would keep watch in the garden immediately -below. They had brought a lute. If one of them should sing to it, this -would mean that she sounded the alarm, and he must hide in the coffer, -taking with him everything that might betray his presence, including the -lantern which he must extinguish. Flint and steel and tinder had not -been forgotten, so that light might be rekindled when the danger was -overpast. Her highness raised the lid of the coffer to reveal to him the -mechanism of the snap lock. This was released, of course, by the key, -which should then be withdrawn. Provided he did this, once he allowed -the lid to close upon him, none would be able to open it from the -outside; whilst from the inside it was an easy matter, even in the dark, -to release the catch. Meanwhile the keyhole would provide him with -sufficient air and at the same time permit him to judge by sounds of -what was happening. The wet garments he removed were to be made into a -bundle and dropped into the coffer, whence they would afterwards be -taken and destroyed. Finally he was given ten minutes in which to make -the change. - -Abruptly he found himself alone, and so impressed by her commands that -already his fingers were swiftly untrussing his points. He went briskly -to work, first to strip himself, then to rub himself dry and restore his -chilled circulation, for which purpose he heedlessly employed the black -cloak in which the fresh garments had been bundled. Then he set about -donning that scarlet raiment of fine quality and modish fashion, all the -while lost in wonder of her graciousness and resource. She revealed -herself, he reflected, as a woman fit to lead and to command, a woman -with a methodical mind and a well-ordered intelligence which many a -captain of men might envy. And she revealed herself, too, as intensely -womanly, an angel of compassion. Although clearly a lady of great rank, -she nevertheless went to so much pains and thought to save a wretched -fugitive like himself, and this without pausing to ascertain if he were -worthy of compassion. - -As abruptly as she had left him did she now return, even as he was -completing his hasty toilet. And she came alone, having left her lady -with the lute on guard below. - -He stood now before her a brave figure, despite his tumbled black locks -and the fact that the red hose of fine cloth was a little short for his -long shanks, and therefore a little cramping. But the kilted tunic -became him well with its girdle of steel and leather which he was -buckling even as she entered. - -She swept forward to the table, and came straight to business. - -'And now, sir, your message?' - -His fingers stood arrested on the buckle, and his solemn dark eyes -opened wide as they searched her pale face. - -'Message?' quoth he slowly. - -'Message, yes.' Her tone betrayed the least impatience. 'What has -happened? What has become of Ser Giuffredo? Why has he not been near me -this fortnight? What did the Lord Barbaresco bid you tell me? Come, -come, sir. You need not hesitate. Surely you know that I am the Princess -Valeria of Montferrat?' - -All that he understood of this was that he stood in a princely presence, -before the august sister of the sovereign Marquis of Montferrat. Had he -been reared in the world he might have been awe-stricken by the -circumstances. But he knew princes and princesses only from books -written by chroniclers and historians, who treat them familiarly enough. -If anything about her commanded his respect, it was her slim grace and -her rather elusive beauty, a beauty that is not merely of colour and of -features, but of the soul and mind alive in these. - -His hands fell limply away from the buckle, which he had made fast at -length. His lively countenance looked almost foolish as dimly seen in -the yellow light of the lantern. - -'Madonna, I do not understand. I am no messenger. I ...' - -'You are no messenger?' Her tawny head was thrust forward, her dark eyes -glowed. 'Were you not sent to me? Answer, man! Were you not sent?' - -'Not other than by an inscrutable Providence, which may desire to -preserve me for better things than a rope.' - -The whimsical note of the answer may have checked her stirring anger. -There was a long pause in which she pondered him with eyes that were -become unfathomable. Mechanically she loosed the long black cloak that -covered her low-cut sheathing gown of sapphire blue. - -'Why, then, did you come? Was it to spy ... No, no. You are not that. A -spy would have gone differently to work. What are you, then?' - -'Just a poor scholar on his travels, studying life at first hand and a -trifle more rapidly than he can digest it. As for how I came into your -garden, let me tell you.' - -And he told her with admirable succinctness the sorry tale of that day's -events. It drove the last vestige of wrath from her face, and drew the -ghost of a smile to the corners of a mouth that could be as tender as -imperious. Observing it, he realised that whilst she had given him -sanctuary under a misapprehension, yet she was not likely to visit her -obvious disappointment too harshly upon him. - -'And I thought ...' She broke off and trilled a little laugh, between -mirth and bitterness. 'It was a lucky chance for you, master fugitive.' -She considered him again, and it may be that his stalwart young male -beauty had a hand unconsciously in shaping her resolves concerning him. -'What am I to do with you?' she asked him. - -He answered simply and directly, speaking not as a poor nameless scholar -to a high-born princess, but as equal to equal, as a young man to a -young woman. - -'If you are what your face tells me, madonna, you will let me profit by -an error that entails no less for yourself beyond that of these -garments, which, if you wish it ...' - -She waved the proposal aside before it was uttered. 'Pooh, the garments. -What are they?' She frowned thoughtfully. 'But I named names to you.' - -'Did you? I have forgotten them.' And in answer to the hard incredulity -of her stare, he explained himself. 'A good memory, madonna, lies as -much in an ability to forget as in a capacity to remember. And I have an -excellent memory. By the time I shall have stepped out of this garden I -shall have no recollection that I was ever in it.' - -Slowly she spoke after a pause. 'If I were sure that I can trust you...' -She left it there. - -Bellarion smiled. 'Unless you are certain that you can, you had better -call the guard. But then, how could you be sure that in that case I -should not recall the names you named, which are now forgotten?' - -'Ah! You threaten!' - -The sharp tone, the catch in her breath, the sudden movement of her hand -to her breast showed him that his inference was right. - -This lady was engaged in secret practices. And the inference itself -displayed the swift activity of his wits; just as his answer displayed -them. - -'Nay, lady. I show you only that trust me you must, since if you -mistrust me you can no more order my arrest than you can set me free.' - -'My faith, sir, you are shrewd, for one who's convent-bred.' - -'There's a deal of shrewdness, lady, to be learned in convents.' And -then, whether the beauty and charm of her so wrought upon him as to -breed in him the desire to serve her, or whether he merely offered a -bargain, a return for value received and to be received, it is probable -that he did not know himself. But he made his proposal. 'If you would -trust me, madonna, you might even use me, and so repay yourself.' - -'Use you?' - -'As a messenger. In the place of him whom you expected. That is, if you -have messages to send, as I think you should have.' - -'You think it?' - -'From what you have said.' - -'I said so little.' She was clearly suspicious. - -'But I inferred so much. Too much, perhaps. Let me expose my reasoning.' -The truth is he was a little vain of it. 'You expected a messenger from -one Lord Barbaresco. You left the garden-gate ajar to facilitate his -entrance when he came, and you were on the watch for him, and alone. -Your ladies, one of whom at least is in your confidence, were beguiling -the gentlemen and keeping them in the lower garden, whilst you loitered -watchful by the hedged enclosure. Hence I argue on your part anxiety and -secrecy. You were anxious because no message had come for a fortnight, -nor had Messer Giuffredo, the usual messenger been seen. Almost you may -have feared that some evil had befallen Messer Giuffredo, if not the -Lord Barbaresco, himself. Which shows that the secret practices of which -these messages are the subject may themselves be dangerous. Do I read -the signs fluently enough?' - -There was little need for his question. Her face supplied the answer. - -'Too fluently, I think. Too fluently for one who is no more than you -represent yourself.' - -'It is, madonna, that you are not accustomed to the exercise of pure -reason. It is rare enough.' - -'Pure reason!' Her scorn where his fatuity had expected wonder was like -a searing iron. 'And do you know, sir, what pure reason tells me?' - -'I can believe anything, madonna,' he said, alluding to the tone she -used with him. - -'That you were sent to set a trap for me.' - -He perceived exactly by what steps she had come to that conclusion. He -smiled reassuringly, and shook his moist head. - -'The reasoning is not pure enough. If I had been so sent, should I have -been pursued and hunted? And should I not have come prepared with some -trivial message, to assure you that I am the messenger you were so very -ready to believe me?' - -She was convinced. But still she hesitated. - -'But why, concluding so much and so accurately, should you offer to -serve me?' - -'Say from gratitude to one who has saved perhaps my life.' - -'But I did so under a misapprehension. That should compel no gratitude.' - -'I like to think, madonna, that you would have shown me the same charity -even if there had been no misapprehension. I am the more grateful for -what you have done because I choose to believe that in any case you -would have done it. Then there is this handsome suit to be paid for, -and, lastly and chiefly, the desire to serve a lady in need of service, -which I believe is not an altogether strange desire in a man of -sensibility. It has happened aforetime.' - -That was as near as he would go to the confession that she had -beglamoured him. Since it was a state of mind that did not rest upon -pure reason, it is one to which he would have been reluctant to confess -even to himself. - -She pondered him, and it seemed to him that her searching glance laid -bare all that he was and all that he was likely to be. - -'These are slight and unworldly reasons,' she said at last. - -'I am possibly an unworldly fellow.' - -'You must be, indeed, to propose knight-errantry.' - -But her need, as he had already surmised and as he was later fully to -understand, was great and urgent. It may almost have seemed to her, -indeed, as if Providence had brought her this young man, not only for -his own salvation, but for hers. - -'The service may entail risk,' she warned him, 'and a risk far greater -than any you have run to-night.' - -'Risk sweetens enterprise,' he answered, 'and wit can conquer it.' - -Her smile broadened, almost she laughed. 'You have a high confidence in -your wit, sir.' - -'Whereas, you would say, the experience of the last four and twenty -hours should make me humble. Its lesson, believe me, has not been lost. -I am not again to be misled by appearances.' - -'Well, here's to test you, then.' And she gave him her message, which -was after all a very cautious one, the betrayal of which could hardly -harm her. He was to seek the Lord Barbaresco, of whom she told him -nothing beyond the fact that the gentleman dwelt in a house behind the -cathedral, which any townsman would point out to him. He was to inquire -after his health, about which, he was to add, the absence of news was -making her uneasy. As a credential to the Lord Barbaresco she gave him -the broken half of a gold ducat. - -'To-morrow evening,' she concluded, 'you will find the garden-gate ajar -again at about the same hour, and I shall be waiting.' - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -THE WINDS OF FATE - - -You behold Messer Bellarion treading the giddy slope of high and -mysterious adventure, fortuitously launched upon a course whose end he -was very far from discerning, but which most certainly was not the -University of Pavia, the pursuit of Greek studies, and the recovery of -an unblemished faith. - -Lorenzaccio da Trino has more to answer for than the acts of brigandage -for which the law pursued him. - -In the gloom of that September night, after the moon had set, Bellarion, -in raiment which already might be taken to symbolise the altered aim and -purpose of his life, whereof himself, poor straw upon the winds of Fate, -he was as yet unconscious, slipped from a gateway that was no longer -guarded and directed his steps towards the heart of the town. - -Coming in the Cathedral Square upon a company of the watch, going the -rounds with pikes and lanterns, he staggered a little in his gait and -broke raucously into song to give himself the air of a belated, carefree -reveller. Knowing no bawdy worldly songs proper to a man of his apparent -circumstances and condition, he broke into a Gregorian chant, which he -rendered in anything but the unisonous manner proper to that form of -plain-song. The watch deeming him, as he computed that they would, an -impudent parodist, warned him against disturbing the peace of the night, -and asked who he was, whence he came, and whither he went. - -Unprepared for these questions, he rose magnificently and rather -incoherently to the occasion. - -He knew that there was a house of Augustinian fathers in Casale. And -boldly he stated that he had been supping there. Thus launched, his -invention soared. The Prior's brother was married to his sister, and he -had borne messages to the Prior from that same brother who dwelt in -Cigliano, and was, like himself, a subject of the Duke of Savoy. He was -lodged with his cousin-german, the Lord Barbaresco, whose house, having -arrived but that day in Casale, he was experiencing some difficulty in -finding. - -'Body of Bacchus! Is that the reason?' quoth the leader of the patrol to -the infinite amusement of his men. - -They were as convinced as he himself was appalled by the fluency of his -lying. Perhaps from that sympathy which men in his supposed state so -commonly command, perhaps from the hope of reward, they volunteered to -escort him to his cousin's dwelling. - -To the narrow street behind the cathedral of which the Lord Barbaresco's -was the most imposing house, they now conducted him, and loudly they -battered on his lordship's iron-studded door, until from a window -overhead a quavering voice desired to know who knocked. - -'His lordship's cousin returning home,' replied the officer of the -watch. 'Make haste to open.' - -There was a mutter of voices in the dark overhead, and Bellarion awaited -fearfully the repudiation that he knew must come. - -'What cousin?' roared another, deeper voice. 'I am expecting no cousin -at this hour.' - -'He is angry with me,' Bellarion explained. 'I had promised to return to -sup with him.' He threw back his head, called up into the night in a -voice momentarily clear. 'Although the hour is late, I pray you, cousin, -do not leave me standing here. Admit me and all, all, shall be -explained.' He stressed the verb, which for the Lord Barbaresco should -have one meaning and for the too pertinacious watch another. And then he -added certain mystic words to clinch the matter: 'And bring a ducat to -reward these good fellows. I have promised them a ducat, and have upon -me only half a ducat. The half of a ducat,' he repeated, as if with -drunken insistence. 'And what is half a ducat? No more than a broken -coin.' - -The soldiers grinned at his drunken whimsicality. There was a long -moment's pause. Then the deep voice above said, 'Wait!' and a casement -slammed. - -Soon came a rasping of bolts, and the heavy door swung inwards, -revealing a stout man in a purple bedgown, who shaded a candle-flame -with his hand. The light was thrown up into a red fleshly face that was -boldly humorous, with a hooked nose and alert blue eyes under arched -black brows. - -Bellarion was quick to supply the cue. 'Dear cousin, my excuses. I -should have returned sooner. These good fellows have been most kind to -me in this strange town.' - -Standing a little in front of the unsuspecting members of the watch, he -met the Lord Barbaresco's searching glance by a grimace of warning. - -'Give them the ducat for their pains, cousin, and let them go with God.' - -His lordship came prepared, it seemed. - -'I thank you, sir,' he said to the antient, 'for your care of my cousin, -a stranger here.' And he dropped a gold coin into the readily projected -palm. He stood aside, his hand upon the edge of the door. 'Come you in, -cousin.' - -But once alone with his enforced visitor in the stone passage, dimly -lighted by that single candle, his lordship's manner changed. - -'Who the devil are you, and what the devil do you seek?' - -Bellarion showed his fine teeth in a broad smile, all sign of his -intoxication vanished. 'If you had not already answered those questions -for yourself, you would neither have admitted me nor parted with your -ducat, sir. I am what you were quick to suppose me. To the watch, I am -your cousin, lodging with you on a visit to Casale. Lest you should -repudiate me, I mentioned the half-ducat as a password.' - -'It was resourceful of you,' Barbaresco grunted. 'Who sent you?' - -'Lord! The unnecessary questions that you ask! Why, the Lady Valeria, of -course. Behold!' Under the eyes of Messer Barbaresco he flashed the -broken half of a ducat. - -His lordship took the golden fragment, and holding it near the -candle-flame read the half of the date inscribed upon it, then returned -it to Bellarion, inviting him at last to come above-stairs. - -They went up, Barbaresco leading, to a long, low-ceilinged chamber of -the mezzanine, the walls of which were hung with soiled and shabby -tapestries, the floor of which had been unswept for weeks. His lordship -lighted a cluster of candles in a leaden candle-branch, and their golden -light further revealed the bareness of the place, its sparse and -hard-worn furnishings heavy with dust. He drew an armchair to the table -where writing-implements and scattered papers made an untidy litter. He -waved his guest to a seat, and asked his name. - -'Bellarion.' - -'I never heard of the family.' - -'I never heard of it myself. But that's no matter. It's a name that -serves as well as another.' - -'Ah!' Barbaresco accepted the name as assumed. He brushed the matter -aside by a gesture. 'Your message?' - -'I bring no message. I come for one. Her highness is distracted by the -lack of news from you, and by the fact that, although she has waited -daily for a fortnight, in all that time Messer Giuffredo has not been -near her.' - -Bellarion was still far from surmising who this Messer Giuffredo might -be or what. But he knew that mention of the name must confirm him in -Barbaresco's eyes, and perhaps lead to a discovery touching the identity -of its owner. Because of the interest which the tawny-headed, -sombre-eyed princess inspired in him, Bellarion was resolved to go -beyond the precise extent of his mission as defined by her. - -'Giuffre took fright. A weak-stomached knave. He fancied himself -observed when last he came from the palace garden, and nothing would -induce him to go again.' - -So that whatever the intrigue, Bellarion now perceived, it was not -amorous. Giuffredo clearly was a messenger and nothing more. Barbaresco -himself, with his corpulence and his fifty years, or so, was incredible -as a lover. - -'Could not another have been sent in his place?' - -'A messenger, my friend, is not readily found. Besides, nothing has -transpired in the last two weeks of which it was urgently necessary to -inform her highness.' - -'Surely, it was urgently necessary to inform her highness of just that, -so as to allay her natural anxiety?' - -Leaning back in his chair, his plump hands, which were red like all the -rest of him that was visible, grasping the ends of its arms, the -gentleman of Casale pondered Bellarion gravely. - -'You assume a deal of authority, young sir. Who and what are you to be -so deeply in the confidence of her highness?' - -Bellarion was prepared for the question. 'I am an amanuensis of the -palace, whose duties happen to have brought me closely into touch with -the Princess.' - -It was a bold lie, but one which he could support at least and at need -by proofs of scholarliness. - -Barbaresco nodded slowly. - -'And your precise interest in her highness?' - -Bellarion's smile was a little deprecating. - -'Now, what should you suppose it?' - -'I am not supposing. I am asking.' - -'Shall we say ... the desire to serve her?' and Bellarion's smile became -at once vague and eloquent. This, taken in conjunction with his -reticence, might seem to imply a romantic attachment. Barbaresco, -however, translated it otherwise. - -'You have ambitions! So. That is as it should be. Interest is ever the -best spur to endeavour.' - -And he, too, now smiled; a smile so oily and cynical that Bellarion set -him down at once for a man without ideals, and mistrusted him from that -moment. But he was strategist enough to conceal it, even to reflect -something of that same cynicism in his own expression, so that -Barbaresco, believing him a kindred spirit, should expand the more -freely. And meanwhile he drew a bow at a venture. - -'That which her highness looks to me to obtain is some explanation of -your ... inaction.' - -He chose the most non-committal word; but it roused the Lord Barbaresco -almost to anger. - -'Inaction!' He choked, and his plethoric countenance deepened to purple. -To prove the injustice of the charge, he urged his past activities of -which he thus rendered an account. Luring him thence, by skilful -question, assertion, and contradiction, along the apparent path of -argument upon matters of which he must assume the young man already -fully informed, gradually Bellarion drew from him a full disclosure of -what was afoot. He learnt also a good deal of history of which hitherto -he had been in ignorance, and he increased considerably his not very -elevating acquaintance with the ways of men. - -It was an evil enough thing which the Princess Valeria had set herself -to combat with the assistance of some dispossessed Guelphic gentlemen of -Montferrat, the chief of whom was this Lord Barbaresco; and it magnified -her in the eyes of Bellarion that she should evince the high courage -necessary for the combat. - -The extensive and powerful State of Montferrat was ruled at this time by -the Marquis Theodore as regent during the minority of his nephew Gian -Giacomo, son of that great Ottone who had been slain in the Neapolitan -wars against the House of Brunswick. - -These rulers of Montferrat, from Guglielmo, the great crusader, onwards, -had ever been a warlike race, and Montferrat itself a school of arms. -Nor had their proud belligerent nature been diluted by the blood of the -Paleologi when on the death without male issue of Giovanni the Just a -hundred years before, these dominions had passed to Theodore I, the -younger son of Giovanni's sister Violante, who was married to the -Emperor of the East, Andronicus Comnenus Paleologus. - -The present Regent Theodore, however, combined with the soldierly -character proper to his house certain qualities of craft and intrigue -rarely found in knightly natures. The fact is, the Marquis Theodore had -been ill-schooled. He had been reared at the splendid court of his -cousin the Duke of Milan, that Gian Galeazzo whom Francesco da Carrara -had dubbed 'the Great Viper,' in allusion as much to the man's nature as -to the colubrine emblem of his house. Theodore had observed and no doubt -admired the subtle methods by which Gian Galeazzo went to work against -those whom he would destroy. If he lacked the godlike power of rendering -them mad, at least he possessed the devilish craft of rendering them by -their own acts detestable, so that in the end it was their own kin or -their own subjects who pulled them down. - -Witness the manner in which he had so poisoned the mind of Alberto of -Este as to goad him into the brutal murder of almost all his relatives. -It was his aim thus to render him odious to his Ferrarese subjects that -by his extinction Ferrara might ultimately come under the crown of -Milan. Witness how he forged love letters, which he pretended had passed -between the wife and the secretary of his dear friend Francesco Gonzaga, -Lord of Mantua, whereby he infuriated Gonzaga into murdering that -innocent lady--who was Galeazzo's own cousin and sister-in-law--and -tearing the secretary limb from limb upon the rack, so that Mantua rose -against this human wolf who governed there. Witness all those other -Lombard princes whom by fraud and misrepresentation, ever in the guise -of a solicitous and loving friend, he lured into crimes which utterly -discredited them with their subjects. This was an easier and less costly -method of conquest than the equipping of great armies, and also it was -more effective, because an invader who imposes himself by force can -never hope to be so secure or esteemed as one whom the people have -invited to become their ruler. - -All this the Marquis Theodore had observed and marked, and he had seen -Gian Galeazzo constantly widening his dominions by these means, ever -increasing in power and consequence until in the end he certainly would -have made of all Northern Italy a kingdom for his footstool had not the -plague pursued him into the Castle of Melegnano, where he had shut -himself up to avoid it, and there slain him in the year of grace 1402. - -Trained in that school, the Marquis Theodore had observed and understood -many things that would have remained hidden from an intelligence less -acute. - -He understood, for instance, that to rise by the pleasure of the people -is the only way of reaching stable eminence, and that to accomplish -this, noble qualities must be exhibited. For whilst men singly may be -swayed by vicious appeals, collectively they will respond only to -appeals of virtue. - -Upon this elementary truth, according to Barbaresco, the Marquis -Theodore was founding the dark policy which, from a merely temporary -regent during the minority of his nephew, should render him the absolute -sovereign of Montferrat. By the lavish display of public and private -virtues, by affability towards great and humble, by endowments of -beneficences, by the careful tempering of justice with mercy where this -was publicly desired, he was rendering himself beloved and respected -throughout the state. And step by step with this he was secretly -labouring to procure contempt for his nephew, to whom in the ordinary -course of events he would presently be compelled to relinquish the reins -of government. - -Nature, unfortunately, had rendered the boy weak. It was a weakness -which training could mend as easily as increase. But to increase it were -directed all the efforts which Theodore took care should be applied. -Corsario the tutor, a Milanese, was a venal scoundrel, unhealthily -ambitious. He kept the boy ignorant of all those arts that mature and -grace the intellect, and confined instruction to matters calculated to -corrupt his mind, his nature, and his morals. Castruccio, Lord of -Fenestrella, the boy's first gentleman-in-waiting, was a vicious and -depraved Savoyard, who had gamed away his patrimony almost before he had -entered upon the enjoyment of it. It was easy to perceive the purpose -for which the Regent had made him the boy's constant and intimate -companion. - -Here Bellarion, with that assumption of knowledge which had served to -draw Barbaresco into explanations, ventured to interpose a doubt. 'In -that matter, I am persuaded that the Regent overreaches himself. The -people know that he permits Castruccio to remain; and when they settle -accounts with Castruccio they will also present a reckoning to the -Regent.' - -Barbaresco laughed the argument to scorn. - -'Either you do not realise Theodore's cunning, or you are insufficiently -observant. Have not representations been made already to the Regent that -Castruccio is no fit companion for the future Lord of Montferrat, or -indeed for any boy? It merely enables Messer Theodore to parade his own -paternal virtues, his gentleness of character, the boy's wilfulness, and -the fact that he is, after all, no more than Regent of Montferrat. He -would dismiss, he protests, Messer Castruccio, but the Prince is so -devoted and attached to him that he would never be forgiven. And, after -all, is that not true?' - -'Aye, I suppose it is,' Bellarion confessed. - -Barbaresco was impatient of his dullness. 'Of course it is. This -Castruccio has known how to conquer the boy's love and wonder, by -pretended qualities that fire youth's imagination. The whole world could -hardly have yielded a better tool for the Regent or a worse companion -for the little Prince.' - -Thus were the aims of the Marquis Theodore revealed to Bellarion, and -the justifications for the movement that was afoot to thwart him. Of -this movement for the salvation of her brother, the Princess Valeria was -the heart and Barbaresco the brain. Its object was to overthrow the -Marquis Theodore and place the government in the hands of a council of -regency during the remainder of Gian Giacomo's minority. Of this council -Barbaresco assumed that he would be the president. - -Sorrowfully Bellarion expressed a doubt. - -'The mischief is that the Marquis Theodore is already so well -established in the respect and affection of the people.' - -Barbaresco reared his head and threw out his chest. 'Heaven will -befriend a cause so righteous.' - -'My doubt concerns not the supernatural, but the natural means at our -command.' - -It was a sobering reminder. Barbaresco left the transcendental and -attempted to be practical. Also a subtle change was observable in his -manner. He was no longer glibly frank. He became reserved and vague. -They were going to work, he said, by laying bare the Regent's true -policy. Already they had at least a dozen nobles on their side, and -these were labouring to diffuse the truth. Once it were sufficiently -diffused the rest would follow as inevitably as water runs downhill. - -And this assurance was all the message that Bellarion was invited to -take back to the Princess. But Bellarion was determined to probe deeper. - -'That, sir, adds nothing to what the Lady Valeria already knows. It -cannot allay the anxiety in which she waits. She requires something more -definite.' - -Barbaresco was annoyed. Her highness should learn patience, and should -learn to trust them. But Bellarion was so calmly insistent that at last -Barbaresco angrily promised to summon his chief associates on the -morrow, so that Bellarion might seek from them the further details he -desired on the Lady Valeria's behalf. - -Content, Bellarion begged a bed for the night, and was conducted to a -mean, poverty-stricken chamber in that great empty house. On a hard and -unclean couch he lay pondering the sad story of a wicked regent, a -foolish boy, and a great-hearted lady, who, too finely reckless to count -the cost of the ill-founded if noble enterprise to which she gave her -countenance, would probably end by destroying herself together with her -empty brother. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -SERVICE - - -Stimulated by the insistence of this apparently accredited and energetic -representative of the Princess, Messer Barbaresco assembled in his house -in the forenoon of the following day a half-dozen gentlemen who were -engaged with him upon that crack-brained conspiracy against the Regent -of Montferrat. Four of these, including Count Enzo Spigno, were men who -had been exiled because of Guelphic profession, and who had returned by -stealth at Barbaresco's summons. - -They talked a deal, as such folk will; but on the subject of real means -by which they hoped to prevail they were so vague that Bellarion, boldly -asserting himself, set about provoking revelation. - -'Sirs, all this leads us nowhere. What, indeed, am I to convey to her -highness? Just that here in Casale at my Lord Barbaresco's house some -gentlemen of Montferrat hold assemblies to discuss her brother's wrongs? -Is that all?' - -They gaped and frowned at him, and they exchanged dark glances among -themselves, as if each interrogated his neighbour. It was Barbaresco at -last who answered, and with some heat. - -'You try my patience, sir. Did I not know you accredited by her highness -I would not brook these hectoring airs ...' - -'If I were not so accredited, there would be no airs to brook.' Thus he -confirmed the impression of one deeper than they in the confidence of -the Lady Valeria. - -'But this is a sudden impatience on the Lady Valeria's part!' said one. - -'It is not the impatience that is sudden. But the expression of it. I am -telling you things that may not be written. Your last messenger, -Giuffredo, was not sufficiently in her confidence. How should she have -opened her mind to him? Whilst you, sirs, are all too cautious to -approach her yourselves, lest in a subsequent miscarriage of your aims -there should be evidence to make you suffer with her.' - -The first part of that assertion he had from themselves; the second was -an inference, boldly expressed to search their intentions. And because -not one of them denied it, he knew what to think--knew that their aims -amounted to more, indeed, than they were pretending. - -In silence they looked at him as he stood there in a shaft of morning -sunlight that had struggled through the curtain of dust and grime on the -blurred glass of the mullioned window. And then at last, Count Spigno, a -lean, tough, swarthy gentleman, whose expressions had already revealed -him the bitterest enemy there of the Marquis Theodore, loosed a short -laugh. - -'By the Host! He's in the right.' He swung to Bellarion. 'Sir, we should -deserve the scorn you do not attempt to dissemble if our plans went no -farther than ...' - -The voices of his fellow conspirators were raised in warning. But he -brushed them contemptuously aside, a bold rash man. - -'A choicely posted arbalester will ...' - -He got no further. This time his utterance was smothered by their anger -and alarm. Barbaresco and another laid rough hands upon him, and through -the general din rang the opprobrious epithets they bestowed upon him, of -which 'fool' and 'madman' were the least. Amongst them they cowed him, -and when it was done they turned again to Bellarion who had not stirred -from where he stood, maintaining a frown of pretended perplexity between -his level black brows. - -It was Barbaresco, oily and crafty, who sought to dispel, to deviate any -assumption Bellarion might have formed. - -'Do not heed his words, sir. He is forever urging rash courses. He, too, -is impatient. And impatience is a dangerous mood to bring to such -matters as these.' - -Bellarion was not deceived. They would have him believe that Count -Spigno had intended no more than to urge a course, whereas what he -perceived was that the Count had been about to disclose the course -already determined, and had disclosed enough to make a guess of the -remainder easy. No less did he perceive that to betray his apprehension -of this fact might be never to leave that house alive. He could read it -in their glances, as they waited to learn from his answer how much he -took for granted. - -Therefore he used a deep dissimulation. He shrugged ill-humouredly. - -'Yet patience, sirs, can be exceeded until from a virtue it becomes a -vice. I have more respect for an advocate of rash courses'--and he -inclined his head slightly to Count Spigno--'than for those who practise -an excessive caution whilst time is slipping by.' - -'That, sir,' Barbaresco rebuked him, 'is because you are young. With -age, if you are spared, you will come to know better.' - -'Meanwhile,' said Bellarion, completely to reassure them, 'I see plainly -enough that your message to her highness is scarce worth carrying.' And -he flung himself down into his chair with simulated petulance. - -The conference came to an end soon afterwards, and the conspirators went -their ways again singly. Shortly after the departure of the last of -them, Bellarion took his own, promising that he would return that night -to Messer Barbaresco's house to inform him of anything her highness -might desire him to convey. One last question he asked his host at -parting. - -'The pavilion in the palace gardens is being painted. Can you say by -whom?' - -Barbaresco's eyes showed that he found the question odd. But he answered -that most probably one Gobbo, whose shop was in the Via del Cane, would -be entrusted with the work. - -Into that shop of Gobbo's, found by inquiry, Bellarion penetrated an -hour later. Old Gobbo himself, amid the untidy litter of the place, was -engaged in painting an outrageous scarlet angel against a star-flecked -background of cobalt blue. Bellarion's first question ascertained that -the painting of the pavilion was indeed in Gobbo's hands. - -'My two lads are engaged upon it now, my lord.' - -Bellarion winced at the distinguished form of address, which took him by -surprise until he remembered his scarlet suit with its imposing girdle -and gold-hilted dagger. - -'The work progresses all too slowly,' said he sharply. - -'My lord! My lord!' The old man was flung into agitation. 'It is a -beautiful fresco, and ...' - -'They require assistance, those lads of yours.' - -'Assistance!' The old man flung his arms to heaven. 'Where shall I find -assistants with the skill?' - -'Here,' said Bellarion, and tapped his breast with his forefinger. - -Amazed, Gobbo considered his visitor more searchingly. Bellarion leaned -nearer, and lowered his voice to a tone of confidence. - -'I'll be frank with you, Ser Gobbo. There is a lady of the palace, a -lady of her highness ...' He completed his sentence, by roguishly -closing an eye. - -Gobbo's lean brown old face cracked across in a smile, as becomes an old -artist who finds himself face to face with romance. - -'You understand, I see,' said Bellarion, smiling in his turn. 'It is -important that I should have a word with this lady. There are grave -matters ... I'll not weary you with these and my own sad story. Perform -a charitable act to your own profit.' - -But Gobbo's face had grown serious. 'If it were discovered ...' he was -beginning. - -'It shall not be. That I promise you full confidently. And to compensate -you ... five ducats.' - -'Five ducats!' It was a great sum, and confirmed Master Gobbo in the -impression made by Bellarion's appearance, dress, and manner, that here -he dealt with a great lord. 'For five ducats ...' He broke off, and -scratched his head. - -Bellarion perceived that he must not be given time for thought. - -'Come, my friend, lend me the clothes for the part and a smock such as -is proper, and do you keep these garments of mine in pledge for my safe -return and for the five ducats that shall then be yours.' - -He knew how to be irresistible, and he was fortunate in his present -victim. He went off a half-hour or so later in the garb of his suddenly -assumed profession and bearing a note from Gobbo to his sons. - -Late in the afternoon Bellarion lounged in the pavilion in the palace -garden to which his pretence had gained him easy admission. He mixed -some colours for the two young artists under their direction. But beyond -that he did nothing save wait for sunset when the light would fail and -the two depart. Himself, though not without the exertion of considerable -persuasions based upon a display of his amorous intentions, he remained -behind to clear things up. - -Thus it happened that, as the Lady Dionara was walking by the lake, she -heard herself addressed from the bridge that led to the pavilion. - -'Madonna! Gracious madonna!' - -She turned to behold a tall young man with tumbled black hair and a -smear of paint across his face in a smock that was daubed with every -colour of the rainbow, waving a long-handled brush in a gesture towards -the temple. - -'Would not her highness,' he was asking, 'graciously condescend to view -the progress of the frescoes.' - -The Lady Dionara looked down her nose at this greatly presumptuous -fellow until he added softly: 'And receive news at the same time of the -young man she befriended yesterday?' That changed her expression, so -swift and ludicrously that Bellarion was moved to silent laughter. - -To view those frescoes came the Lady Valeria alone, leaving Monna -Dionara to loiter on the bridge. Within the temple her highness found -the bedaubed young painter dangling his legs from a scaffold and -flourishing a brush in one hand, a mahlstick in the other. She looked at -him in waiting silence. He did not try her patience. - -'Madonna, you do not recognise me.' With the sleeve of his smock he -wiped the daub of paint from across his features. But already his voice -had made him known. - -'Messer Bellarion! Is it yourself?' - -'Myself.' He came to the ground. 'To command.' - -'But ... why this? Why thus?' Her eyes were wide, she was a little -breathless. - -'I have had a busy day, madonna, and a busy night, and I have more to -report than may hurriedly be muttered behind a hedge.' - -'You bring messages?' - -'The message amounts to nothing. It is only to say that Messer -Giuffredo, fancying himself followed and watched on the last occasion, -is not to be induced to come again. And in the meanwhile nothing has -happened of which it was worth while to inform you. Messer Barbaresco -desires me further to say that everything progresses satisfactorily, -which I interpret to mean that no progress whatever is being made.' - -'You interpret ...' - -'And I venture to add, having been entertained at length, not only by -Messer Barbaresco, but also by the other out-at-elbow nobles in this -foolish venture, that it never will progress in the sense you wish, nor -to any end but disaster.' - -He saw the scarlet flame of indignation overspread her face, he saw the -anger kindle in her great dark eyes, and he waited calmly for the -explosion. But the Lady Valeria was not explosive. Her rebuke was cold. - -'Sir, you presume upon a messenger's office. You meddle in affairs that -are not your concern.' - -'Do you thank God for it,' said Bellarion, unabashed. 'It is time some -one gave these things their proper names so as to remove all -misconception. Do you know whither Barbaresco and these other fools are -thrusting you, madonna? Straight into the hands of the strangler.' - -Having conquered her anger once, she was not easily to be betrayed into -it again. - -'If that is all you have to tell me, sir, I will leave you. I'll not -remain to hear my friends and peers maligned by a base knave to whom I -speak by merest accident.' - -'Not accident, madonna.' His tone was impressive. 'A base knave I may -be. But base by birth alone. These others whom you trust and call your -peers are base by nature. Ah, wait! It was no accident that brought me!' -he cried, and this with a sincerity from which none could have suspected -the violence he did to his beliefs. 'Ask yourself why I should come -again to do more than is required of me, at some risk to myself? What -are your affairs, or the affairs of the State of Montferrat, to me? You -know what I am and what my aims. Why, then, should I tarry here? Because -I cannot help myself. Because the will of Heaven has imposed itself upon -me.' - -His great earnestness, his very vehemence, which seemed to invest his -simple utterances with a tone of inspiration, impressed her despite -herself, as he intended that they should. Nor did she deceive him when -she dissembled this in light derision. - -'An archangel in a painter's smock!' - -'By Saint Hilary, that is nearer the truth than you suppose it.' - -She smiled, yet not entirely without sourness. 'You do not lack a good -opinion of yourself.' - -'You may come to share it when I've said all that's in my mind. I have -told you, madonna, whither these crack-brained adventurers are thrusting -you, so that they may advance themselves. Do you know the true import of -the conspiracy? Do you know what they plan, these fools? The murder of -the Marquis Theodore.' - -She stared at him round-eyed, afraid. 'Murder?' she said in a voice of -horror. - -He smiled darkly. 'They had not told you, eh? I knew they dared not. Yet -so indiscreet and rash are they that they betrayed it to me--to me of -whom they know nothing save that I carried as an earnest of my good -faith your broken half-ducat. What if I were just a scoundrel who would -sell to the Marquis Theodore a piece of information for which he would -no doubt pay handsomely? Do you still think that it was accident brought -me to interfere in your concerns?' - -'I can't believe you! I can't!' and again she breathed, aghast, that -horrid word: 'Murder!' - -'If they succeeded,' said Bellarion coldly, 'all would be well. Your -uncle would have no more than his deserts, and you and your brother -would be rid of an evil incubus. The notion does not shock me at all. -What shocks me is that I see no chance of success for a plot conducted -by such men with such inadequate resources. By joining them you can but -advance the Regent's aims, which you believe to be the destruction of -your brother. Let the attempt be made, and fail, or even let evidence be -forthcoming of the conspiracy's existence and true purpose, and your -brother is at the Regent's mercy. The people themselves might demand his -outlawry or even his death for an attempt upon the life of a prince who -has known how to make himself beloved.' - -'But my brother is not in this,' she protested. 'He knows nothing of -it.' - -Bellarion smiled compassionately. '_Cui bono fuerit_? That is the first -question which the law will ask. Be warned, madonna! Dissociate yourself -from these men while it is time or you may enable the Regent at a single -stride to reach his ultimate ambition.' - -The pallor of her face, the heave of her breast, were witnesses to her -agitation. 'You would frighten me if I did not know how false is your -main assumption: that they plot murder. They would never dare to do this -thing without my sanction, and this they have never sought.' - -'Because they intend to confront you with an accomplished fact. Oh, you -may believe me, madonna. In the last twenty-four hours and chiefly from -these men I have learnt much of the history of Montferrat. And I have -learnt a deal of their own histories too. There is not one amongst them -who is not reduced in circumstances, whose state has not been diminished -by lack of fortune or lack of worth.' - -But for this she had an answer, and she delivered it with a slow, -wistful smile. - -'You talk, sir, as if you contained all knowledge, and yet you have not -learnt that the fortunate desire no change, but labour to uphold the -state whence their prosperity is derived. Is it surprising, then, that I -depend upon the unfortunate?' - -'Say also the venal, those greedy of power and of possessions, whose -only spur is interest; desperate gamblers who set their heads upon the -board and your own and your brother's head with theirs. Almost they -divided among themselves in their talk the offices of State. Barbaresco -promised me that the ambition he perceived in me should be fully -gratified. He assumed that I, too, had no aim but self-aggrandisement, -simply because he could assume no other reason why a man should expose -himself to risks. That told me all of him that I required to know.' - -'Barbaresco is poor,' she answered. 'He has suffered wrongs. Once, in my -father's time he was almost the greatest man in the State. My uncle has -stripped him of his honours and almost of his possessions.' - -'That is the best thing I have heard of the Marquis Theodore yet.' - -She did not heed him, but went on: 'Can I desert him now? Can I ...' She -checked and stiffened, seeming to grow taller. 'What am I saying? What -am I thinking?' She laughed, and there was scorn of self in her laugh. -'What arts do you employ, you, an unknown man, a self-confessed -starveling student, base and nameless, that upon no better warrant than -your word I should even ask such a question?' - -'What arts?' said he, and smiled in his turn, though without scorn. 'The -art of pure reason based on truth. It is not to be resisted.' - -'Not if based on truth. But yours is based on prejudice.' - -'Is it prejudice that they are plotting murder?' - -'They have been misled by their devotion ...' - -'By their cupidity, madonna.' - -'I will not suffer you to say that.' Anger flared up again in her, loyal -anger on behalf of those she deemed her only friends in her great need. -She checked it instantly, 'Sir, I perceive your interest, and I am -grateful. If you would still do me a service, go, tell Messer Barbaresco -from me that this plot of assassination must go no further. Impose it -upon him as my absolute command. Tell him that I must be obeyed and -that, rather than be a party to such an act, I would disclose the -intention to the Marquis Theodore.' - -'That is something, madonna. But if when you have slept upon it ...' - -She interrupted him. 'Upon whatever course I may determine I shall find -means to convey the same to my Lord Barbaresco. There will not be the -need to trouble you again. For what you have done, sir, I shall remain -grateful. So, go with God, Messer Bellarion.' - -She was turning away when he arrested her. - -'It is a little personal matter this. I am in need of five ducats.' - -He saw the momentary frown, chased away by the beginnings of a smile. - -'You are consistent in that you misunderstand me, though I have once -reminded you that if I needed money for myself I could sell my -information to the Regent. The five ducats are for Gobbo who lent me -this smock and these tools of my pretended trade.' And he told her the -exact circumstances. - -She considered him more gently. 'You do not lack resource, sir?' - -'It goes with intelligence, madonna,' he reminded her as an argument in -favour of what he said. But she ignored it. - -'And I am sorry that I ... You shall have ten ducats, unless your pride -is above ...' - -'Do you see pride in me?' - -She looked him over with a certain haughty amusement. 'A monstrous -pride, an overweening vanity in your acuteness.' - -'I'll take ten ducats to convince you of my humility. I may yet need the -other five in the service of your highness.' - -'That service, sir, is at an end, or will be when you have conveyed my -message to the Lord Barbaresco.' - -Bellarion accepted his dismissal in the settled conviction that her -highness was mistaken and would presently be glad to admit it. - -She was right, you see, touching that vanity of his. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -STALEMATE - - -Bellarion and Barbaresco sat at supper, waited upon by an untidy and -unclean old man who afforded all the service of that decayed -establishment. The fare was frugal, more frugal far than the Convent of -Cigliano had afforded out of Lent, and the wine was thin and sharp. - -When the repast was done and the old servant, having lighted candles, -had retired, Bellarion startled his host by the portentous gravity of -his tone. - -'My lord, you and I must talk. I told you that her highness sends no -answer to your message, which is the truth, and all that you could -expect, since there was no message and consequently could be no answer. -I did not tell you, however, that she sends you a message which is in -some sense an answer to certain suspicions that I voiced to her.' - -Barbaresco's mouth fell open, and the stare of his blue eyes grew fixed. -Clearly he was startled, and clearly paused to command himself before -asking: - -'Why did you not tell me this before?' - -'I preferred to wait so as to make sure of not going supperless. It may, -of course, offend you that I should have communicated my suspicions to -her highness. But the poor lady was so downcast by your inaction, that -to cheer her I ventured the opinion that you are perhaps not quite so -aimless as you wish to appear.' - -Whatever his convent education may have done for him, it does not -seem--as you will long since have gathered--that it had inculcated a -strict regard for exactitude. Dissimulation, I fear, was bred in the -bones of him; although he would have answered any such charge by -informing you that Plato had taught him to distinguish between the lie -on the lips and the lie in the heart. - -'Oh, but proceed! The opinion?' Barbaresco fiercely challenged him. - -'You'll remember what Count Spigno said before you others checked him. -The arbalester ... You remember.' Bellarion appeared to falter a little -under the glare of those blue eyes and the fierce set of that heavy jaw. -'So I told her highness, to raise her drooping spirits, that one of -these fine days her friends in Casale might cut the Gordian knot with a -crossbow shaft.' - -Barbaresco suggested by his attitude a mastiff crouching for a spring. - -'Ah!' he commented. 'And she said?' - -'The very contrary of what I expected. Where I looked for elation, I -found only distress. It was in vain I pleaded with her that thus a -consummation would speedily be reached; that if such a course had not -yet been determined, it was precisely the course that I should -advocate.' - -'Oh! You pleaded that! And she?' - -'She bade me tell you that if such a thing were indeed in your minds, -you must dismiss it. That she would be no party to it. That sooner she -would herself denounce the intention to the Marquis Theodore.' - -'Body of God!' Barbaresco came to his feet, his great face purple, the -veins of his temples standing forth like cords Whilst appearing unmoved, -Bellarion braced his muscles for action. - -The attack came. But only in words. Barbaresco heaped horrible and -obscene abuse upon Bellarion's head. 'You infamous fool! You triple ass! -You chattering ape!' With these, amongst other terms, the young man -found himself bombarded. 'Get you back to her, and tell her, you -numskulled baboon, that there was never any such intention.' - -'But was there not?' Bellarion cried with almost shrill ingenuousness of -tone. 'Yet Count Spigno ...' - -'Devil take Count Spigno, fool. Heed me. Carry my message to her -highness.' - -'I carry no lies,' said Bellarion firmly, and rose with great dignity. - -'Lies!' gurgled Barbaresco. - -'Lies,' Bellarion insisted. 'Let us have done with them. To her highness -I expressed as a suspicion what in my mind was a clear conviction. The -words Count Spigno used, and your anxiety to silence him, could leave no -doubt in any man of wit, and I am that, I hope, my lord. If you will -have this message carried, you will first show me the ends you serve by -its falsehood, and let me, who am in this thing as deep as any, be the -judge of whether it is justified.' - -Before this firmness the wrath went out of Barbaresco. Weakly he wrung -his hands a moment, then sank sagging into his chair. - -'If the others, if Cavalcanti or Casella, had known how much you had -understood, you would never have left this house alive, lest you should -do precisely what you have done.' - -'But if it is on her behalf--hers and her brother's--that you plan this -thing, why should you not take her feeling first? What else is right or -fair?' - -'Her feeling?' Barbaresco sneered, and Bellarion understood that the -sneer was for himself. 'God deliver me from the weariness of reasoning -with a fool. Our bolt would have been shot, and none could have guessed -the hands that loosed it. Now you have made it known, and you need to be -told what will happen if we were mad enough to go through with it. Why, -the Princess Valeria would be our instant accuser. She would come forth -at once and denounce us. That is the spirit of her; wilful, headstrong, -and mawkish. And I am a fool to bid you go back to her and persuade her -that you were mistaken. When the blow fell, she would see that what you -had first told her was the truth, and our heads would pay.' - -He set his elbows on the table, took his head in his hands, and fetched -a groan from his great bulk. 'The ruin you have wrought! God! The ruin!' - -'Ruin?' quoth Bellarion. - -'Of all our hopes,' Barbaresco explained in petulance. - -'Can't you see it? Can you understand nothing for yourself, animal, save -the things you were better for not understanding? And can't you see that -you have ruined yourself with us? With your face and shape and already -close in the Lady Valeria's confidence as you are, there are no heights -in the State to which you might not have climbed.' - -'I had not thought of it,' said Bellarion, sighing. - -'No, nor of me, nor of any of us. Of me!' The man's grief became -passionate. 'At last I might have sloughed this beggary in which I live. -And now ...' He banged the table in his sudden rage, and got to his feet -again. 'That is what you have done. That is what you have wrecked by -your silly babbling.' - -'But surely, sir, by other means ...' - -'There are no other means. Leastways, no other means at our command. -Have we the money to levy troops? Oh, why do I waste my breath upon you? -You'll tell the others to-morrow what you've done, and they shall tell -you what they think of it.' - -It was a course that had its perils. But if once in the stillness of the -night Bellarion's shrewd wits counselled him to rise, dress, and begone, -he stilled the coward counsel. It remained to be seen whether the other -conspirators would be as easily intimidated as Barbaresco. To ascertain -this, Bellarion determined to remain. The Lady Valeria's need of him was -not yet done, he thought, though why the Lady Valeria's affairs should -be the cause of his exposing himself to the chances of a blade between -the ribs was perhaps more than he could satisfactorily have explained. - -That the danger was very far from imaginary the next morning's -conference showed him. Scarcely had the plotters realised the nature of -Bellarion's activities than they were clamouring for his blood. Casella, -the exile, breathing fire and slaughter, would have sprung upon him with -dagger drawn, had not Barbaresco bodily interposed. - -'Not in my house!' he roared. 'Not in my house!' his only concern being -the matter of his own incrimination. - -'Nor anywhere, unless you are bent on suicide,' Bellarion calmly warned -them. He moved from behind Barbaresco, to confront them. 'You are -forgetting that in my murder the Lady Valeria will see your answer. She -will denounce you, sirs, not only for this, but for the intended murder -of the Regent. Slay me, and you just as surely slay yourselves.' He -permitted himself to smile as he looked upon their stricken faces. 'It's -an interesting situation, known in chess as a stalemate.' - -In their baffled fury they turned upon Count Spigno, whose indiscretion -had created this situation. Enzo Spigno, sitting there with a sneer on -his white face, let the storm rage. When at last it abated, he expressed -himself. - -'Rather should you thank me for having tested the ground before we stand -on it. For the rest, it is as I expected. It is an ill thing to be -associated with a woman in these matters.' - -'We did not bring her in,' said Barbaresco. 'It was she who appealed to -me for assistance.' - -'And now that we are ready to afford it her,' said Casella, 'she -discovers that it is not of the sort she wishes. I say it is not hers to -choose. Hopes have been raised in us, and we have laboured to fulfil -them.' - -How they all harped on that, thought Bellarion. How concerned was each -with the profit that he hoped to wrest for himself, how enraged to see -himself cheated of this profit. The Lady Valeria, the State, the boy who -was being corrupted that he might be destroyed, these things were -nothing to these men. Not once did he hear them mentioned now in the -futile disorderly debate that followed, whilst he sat a little apart and -almost forgotten. - -At last it was Spigno, this Spigno whom they dubbed a fool--but who, -after all, had more wit than all of them together--who discovered and -made the counter-move. - -'You there, Master Bellarion!' he called. 'Here is what you are to tell -your lady in answer to her threat: We who have set our hands to this -task of ridding the State of the Regent's thraldom will not draw back. -We go forward with this thing as seems best to us, and we are not to be -daunted by threats. Make it clear to this arrogant lady that she cannot -betray us without at the same time betraying herself; that whatever fate -she invokes upon us will certainly overtake her as well.' - -'It may be that she has already perceived and weighed that danger,' said -Bellarion. - -'Aye, as a danger; but perhaps not as a certainty. And tell her also -that she as certainly dooms her brother. Make her understand that it is -not so easy to play with the souls of men as she supposes, and that here -she has evoked forces which it is not within her power to lay again.' He -turned to his associates. 'Be sure that when she perceives precisely -where she stands, she will cease to trouble us with her qualms either -now or when the thing is done.' - -Bellarion had mockingly pronounced the situation interesting when by a -shrewd presentment of it he had given pause to the murderous rage of the -conspirators. Considering it later that day as he took the air along the -river-brink, he was forced to confess it more disturbingly interesting -even than he had shown it to be. - -He had not been blind to that weakness in the Lady Valeria's position. -But he had been foolishly complacent, like the skilful chess-player who, -perceiving a strong move possible to his opponent, takes it for granted -that the opponent himself will not perceive it. - -It seemed to him that nothing remained but to resume his interrupted -pilgrimage to Pavia, leaving the State of Montferrat and the Lady -Valeria to settle their own affairs. But in that case, her own ruin must -inevitably follow, precipitated by the action of those ruffians with -whom she was allied, whether that action succeeded or failed. - -Then he asked himself what to him were the affairs of Montferrat and its -princess, that he should risk his life upon them. - -He fetched a sigh. The Abbot had been right. There is no peace in this -world outside a convent wall. Certainly there was no peace in -Montferrat. Let him shake the dust of that place of unrest from his -feet, and push on towards Pavia and the study of Greek. - -And so, by olive grove and vineyard, he wandered on, assuring himself -that it was towards Pavia that he now went, and repeating to himself -that he would reach the Sesia before nightfall and seek shelter in some -hamlet thereabouts. - -Yet dusk saw him reëntering Casale by the Lombard Gate which faces -eastwards. And this because he realised that the service he had -shouldered was a burden not so lightly to be cast aside: if he forsook -her now, the vision of her tawny head and wistful eyes would go with him -to distract him with reproach. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -THE MARQUIS THEODORE - - -The High and Mighty Marquis Theodore Paleologo, Regent of Montferrat, -gave audience as was his gracious custom each Saturday to all who sought -it, and received petitions from all who proffered them. - -A fine man, this Marquis Theodore, standing fully six feet tall, of a -good shape and soldierly carriage, despite his fifty years. His -countenance was amiable and open with boldly chiselled features and -healthily tanned skin. Affable of manner, accessible of person, he -nowise suggested the schemer. The privilege of audience which he granted -so freely was never abused, so that on the Saturday of this week with -which we are dealing the attendance in the audience chamber was as usual -of modest proportions. His highness came, attended by his Chancellor and -his Captain of Justice, and followed by two secretaries; he made a -leisurely progress through the chamber, pausing at every other step to -receive this one, or to say a word to that one; and at the end of an -hour departed again, one of his secretaries bearing away the single -petition that had been proffered, and this by a tall, dark-haired young -man who was vividly dressed in scarlet. - -Within five minutes of the Regent's withdrawal, that same secretary -returned in quest of the tall young man in red. - -'Are you named Cane, sir?' - -The tall young man bowed acknowledgment, and was ushered into a small, -pleasant chamber, whose windows overlooked the gardens with which -Bellarion had already made acquaintance. The secretary closed the door, -and Bellarion found himself under the scrutiny of a pair of close-set -pale eyes whose glance was crafty and penetrating. Cross-legged, the -parti-coloured hose revealed by the fall of the rich gown of mulberry -velvet, the Regent sat in a high-backed chair of leather wrought with -stags' heads in red and gold, his left elbow resting upon a carved -writing-pulpit. - -Between hands that were long and fine, he held a parchment cylinder, in -which Bellarion recognised the pretended petition he had proffered. - -'Who are you, sir?' The voice was calm and level; the voice of a man who -does not permit his accents to advertise his thoughts. - -'My name is Bellarion Cane. I am the adoptive son of Bonifacio Cane, -Count of Biandrate.' - -Since he had found it necessary for his present purposes to adopt a -father, Bellarion had thought it best to adopt one whose name must carry -weight and at need afford protection. Therefore he had conferred this -honour of paternity upon that great soldier, Facino Cane, who was ducal -governor of Milan. - -There was a flash of surprise from the eyes that conned him. - -'You are Facino's son! You come from Milan, then?' - -'No, my lord. From the Augustinian Convent at Cigliano, where my -adoptive father left me some years ago whilst he was still in the -service of Montferrat. It was hoped that I might take the habit. But a -restlessness of spirit has urged me to prefer the world.' Thus he -married pure truth to the single falsehood he had used, the extent of -which was to clothe the obscure soldier who had befriended him with the -identity of the famous soldier he had named. - -'But why the world of Montferrat?' - -'Chance determined that. I bore letters from my abbot to help me on my -way. It was thus I made the acquaintance of the Lord Barbaresco, and his -lordship becoming interested in me, and no doubt requiring me for -certain services, desired me to remain. He urged that here was a path -already open to my ambition, which if steadily pursued might lead to -eminence.' - -There was no falsehood in the statement. It was merely truth untruly -told, truth unassailable under test, yet calculated to convey a false -impression. - -A thin smile parted the Prince's shaven lips. 'And when you had learnt -sufficient, you found that a surer path to advancement might lie in the -betrayal of these poor conspirators?' - -'That, highness, is to set the unworthiest interpretation upon my -motives.' Bellarion made a certain show in his tone and manner of -offended dignity, such as might become the venal rascal he desired to be -considered. - -'You will not dispute that the course you have taken argues more -intelligence than honesty or loyalty.' - -'Your highness reproaches me with lack of loyalty to traitors?' - -'What was their treason to you? What loyalty do you owe to me? You have -but looked to see where lies your profit. Well, well, you are worthy to -be the son, adoptive or natural, of that rascal Facino. You follow -closely in his footsteps, and if you survive the perils of the journey -you may go as far.' - -'Highness! I came to serve you ...' - -'Silence!' The pleasant voice was scarcely raised. 'I am speaking. I -understand your service perfectly. I know something of men, and if I -choose to use you, it is because your hope of profit may keep you loyal, -and because I shall know how to detect disloyalty and how to punish it. -You engage, sir, in a service full of perils.' The Regent seemed faintly -to sneer. 'But you have thrust yourself willingly into it. It will test -you sternly and at every step. If you survive the tests, if you conquer -the natural baseness and dishonesty of your nature, you shall have no -cause to complain of my generosity.' - -Bellarion flushed despite himself under the cold contempt of that level -voice and the amused contempt of those calm, pale eyes. - -'The quality of my service should lead your highness to amend your -judgment.' - -'Is it at fault? Will you tell me, then, whence springs the regard out -of which you betray to me the aims and names of these men who have -befriended you?' - -Bellarion threw back his head and in his bold dark eyes was kindled a -flame of indignation. Inwardly he was a little uneasy to find the Regent -accepting his word so readily and upon such slight examination. - -'Your highness,' he choked, 'will give me leave to go.' - -But his highness smiled, savouring his power to torture souls where -lesser tyrants could torture only bodies. - -'When I have done with you. You came at your own pleasure. You abide at -mine. Now tell me, sir: Besides the names you have here set down of -these men who seek my life, do you know of any others who work in -concert with them?' - -'I know that there are others whom they are labouring to seduce. Who -these others are I cannot say, nor, with submission, need it matter to -your highness. These are the leaders. Once these are crushed, the others -will be without direction.' - -'A seven-headed hydra, of which these are the heads. If I lop off these -heads ...' He paused. 'Yes, yes. But have you heard none others named in -these councils?' He leaned forward a little, his eyes intent upon -Bellarion's face. 'None who are nearer to me? Think well, Master -Bellarion, and be not afraid to name names, however great.' - -Bellarion perceived here, almost by instinct, the peril of too great a -reticence. - -'Since they profess to labour on behalf of the Marquis Gian Giacomo, it -is natural they should name him. But I have never heard it asserted that -he has knowledge of their plot.' - -'Nor any other?' The Marquis was singularly insistent. 'Nor any other?' -he repeated. - -Bellarion showed a blank face. 'Why? What other?' - -'Nay, sir, I am asking you.' - -'No, highness,' he slowly answered. 'I recall the mention of no other.' - -The Prince sank back into his chair, his searching eyes never quitting -the young man's face. Then he committed what in a man so subtle was a -monstrous indiscretion, giving Bellarion the explanation that he lacked. - -'You are not deep enough in their confidence yet. Return to their -councils, and keep me informed of all that transpires in them. Be -diligent, and you shall find me generous.' - -Bellarion was genuinely aghast. 'Your highness will delay to strike when -by delay you may imperil ...?' - -He was sternly silenced. 'Is your counsel sought? You understand what I -require of you. You have leave to go.' - -'But, highness! To return amongst them now, after openly coming here to -you, will not be without its danger.' - -The regent did not share his alarm. He smiled again. - -'You have chosen a path of peril as I told you. But I will help you. I -discover that I have letters from Facino humbly soliciting my protection -for his adoptive son whilst in Casale. It is a petition I cannot -disregard. Facino is a great lord in Milan these days. My court shall be -advised of it, and it will not be considered strange that I make you -free of the palace. You will persuade your confederates that you avail -yourself of my hospitality so that you may abuse it in their interests. -That should satisfy them, and I shall look to see you here this evening. -Now go with God.' - -Bellarion stumbled out distracted. Nothing had gone as he intended after -that too promising beginning. Perhaps had he not disclosed himself as -Facino Cane's adoptive son, he would not have supplied the Regent with a -pretence that should render plausible his comings and goings. But the -necessity for that disclosure was undeniable. His conduct had been -dictated by the conviction that he could do for the Lady Valeria what -she could not without self-betrayal do for herself. Confidently he had -counted upon instant action of the Regent to crush the conspirators, and -so make the Princess safe from the net in which their crazy ambitions -would entangle her. Instead he had made the discovery--from the single -indiscretion of the Regent--that the Marquis Theodore was already fully -aware of the existence of the conspiracy and of the identity of some, if -not all, of the chief conspirators. That was why he had so readily -accepted Bellarion's tale. The disclosure agreed so completely with the -Regent's knowledge that he had no cause to doubt Bellarion's veracity. -And finding him true in these most intimate details, he readily believed -true the rest of his story and the specious account of his own -intervention in the affair. Possibly Bellarion's name was already known -to him as that of one of the plotters who met at Barbaresco's house. - -Far, then, from achieving his real purpose, all that Bellarion had -accomplished was to offer himself as another and apparently singularly -apt instrument for the Regent's dark purposes. - -It was a perturbed Bellarion, a Bellarion who perceived in what -dangerous waters he was swimming, who came back that noontide to -Barbaresco's house. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -THE WARNING - - -They were very gay that night at the hospitable court of the Marquis -Theodore. A comedy was performed early in the evening, a comedy which -Fra Serafino in his chronicle describes as lascivious, by which he may -mean no more than playful. Thereafter there was some dancing in the long -hall, of which the Regent himself set the example, leading forth the -ugly but graceful young Princess of Morea. - -His nephew, the Marquis Gian Giacomo, followed with the Countess of -Ronsecco, who would have declined the honour if she had dared, for the -boy's cheeks were flushed, his eyes glazed, his step uncertain, and his -speech noisy and incoherent. And there were few who smiled as they -observed the drunken antics of their future prince. Once, indeed, the -Regent paused, grave and concerned of countenance, to whisper an -admonition. The boy answered him with a bray of insolent laughter, and -flung away, dragging the pretty countess with him. It was plain to all -that the gentle, knightly Regent found it beyond his power to control -his unruly, degenerate nephew. - -Amongst the few who dared to smile was Messer Castruccio da Fenestrella, -radiant in a suit of cloth of gold, who stood watching the mischief he -had made. For it was he who had first secretly challenged Gian Giacomo -to a drinking-bout during supper, and afterwards urged him to dance with -the pretty wife of stiff-necked Ronsecco. - -Awhile he stood looking on. Then, wearying of the entertainment, he -sauntered off to join a group apart of which the Lady Valeria was the -centre. Her ladies, Dionara and Isotta, were with her, the pedant -Corsario, looking even less pedantic than his habit, and a half-dozen -gallants who among them made all the chatter. Her highness was pale, and -there was a frown between her eyes that so wistfully followed her -unseemly brother, inattentive of those about her, some of whom from the -kindliest motives sought to distract her attention. Her cheeks warmed a -little at the approach of Castruccio, who moved into the group with -easy, insolent grace. - -'My lord is gay to-night,' he informed them lightly. None answered him. -He looked at them with his flickering, shifty eyes, a sneering smile on -his lips. 'So are not you,' he informed them. 'You need enlivening.' He -thrust forward to the Princess, and bowed. 'Will your highness dance?' - -She did not look at him. Her eyes were fixed, and their glance went -beyond him and was of such intensity that Messer Castruccio turned to -seek the object of that curious contemplation. - -Down the hall came striding Messer Aliprandi, the Orator of Milan, and -with him a tall, black-haired young man, in a suit of red that was more -conspicuous than suitable of fashion to the place or the occasion. Into -the group about the Princess they came, whilst the exquisite Castruccio -eyed this unfashionable young man with frank contempt, bearing his -pomander-ball to his nostrils, as if to protect his olfactory organs -from possible offence. - -Messer Aliprandi, trimly bearded, elegant in his furred gown, and -suavely mannered, bowed low before the Lady Valeria. - -'Permit me, highness, to present Messer Bellarion Cane, the son of my -good friend Facino Cane of Biandrate.' - -It was the Marquis Theodore, who had requested the Orator of Milan--as -was proper, seeing that by reason of his paternity Bellarion was to be -regarded as Milanese--to present his assumed compatriot to her highness. - -Bellarion, modelling himself upon Aliprandi, executed his bow with -grace. - -As Fra Serafino truthfully says of him: 'He learnt manners and customs -and all things so quickly that he might aptly be termed a fluid in the -jug of any circumstance.' - -The Lady Valeria inclined her head with no more trace of recognition in -her face than there was in Bellarion's own. - -'You are welcome, sir,' she said with formal graciousness, and then -turned to Aliprandi. 'I did not know that the Count of Biandrate had a -son.' - -'Nor did I, madonna, until this moment. It was the Marquis Theodore who -made him known to me.' She fancied in Aliprandi's tone something that -seemed to disclaim responsibility. But she turned affably to the -newcomer, and Bellarion marvelled at the ease with which she dissembled. - -'I knew the Count of Biandrate well when I was a child, and I hold his -memory very dear. He was in my father's service once, as you will know. -I rejoice in the greatness he has since achieved. It should make a brave -tale.' - -'_Per aspera ad astra_ is ever a brave tale,' Bellarion answered -soberly. 'Too often it is _per astra ad aspera_, if I may judge by what -I have read.' - -'You shall tell me of your father, sir. I have often wished to hear the -story of his advancement.' - -'To command, highness.' He bowed again. - -The others drew closer, expecting entertainment. But Bellarion, who had -no such entertainment to bestow, nor knew of Facino's life more than a -fragment of what was known to all the world, extricated himself as -adroitly as he could. - -'I am no practised troubadour or story-singer. And this tale of a -journey to the stars should be told under the stars.' - -'Why, so it shall, then. They shine brightly enough. You shall show me -Facino's and perhaps your own.' She rose and commanded her ladies to -attend her. - -Castruccio fetched a sigh of relief. - -'Give thanks,' he said audibly to those about him, 'for Heaven's mercy -which has spared you this weariness.' - -The door at the end of the hall stood open to the terrace and the -moonlight. Thither the Princess conducted Bellarion, her ladies in close -attendance. - -Approaching the threshold they came upon the Marquis Gian Giacomo, -reeling clumsily beside the Countess of Ronsecco, who was almost on the -point of tears. He paused in his caperings that he might ogle his -sister. - -'Where do you go, Valeria? And who's this long-shanks?' - -She approached him. 'You are tired, Giannino, and the Countess, too, is -tired. You would be better resting awhile.' - -'Indeed, highness!' cried the young Countess, eagerly thankful. - -But the Marquis was not at all of his sister's wise opinion. - -'Tired? Resting! You're childish, Valeria. Always childish. Childish and -meddlesome. Poking your long nose into everything. Some day you'll poke -it into something that'll sting it. And what will it look like when it's -stung? Have you thought of that?' He laughed derisively, and caught the -Countess by the arm. 'Let's leave long-nose and long-shanks. Ha! Ha!' -His idiotic laughter shrilled up. He was ravished by his own humour. He -let his voice ring out that all might hear and share the enjoyment of -his comical conceit. 'Long-nose and long-shanks! Long-nose and -long-shanks! - - -'Said she to him, your long-shanks I adore. -Said he to her, your long-nose I deplore.' - - -Screaming with laughter he plunged forward to resume the dance, trod -upon one of his trailing, exaggerated sleeves, tripped himself, and went -sprawling on the tessellated floor, his laughter louder and more idiotic -than ever. A dozen ran to lift him. - -The Princess tapped Bellarion sharply on the arm with her fan of -ostrich-plumes. Her face was like graven stone. - -'Come,' she commanded, and passed out ahead of him. - -On the terrace she signed to her ladies to fall behind whilst with her -companion she moved beyond earshot along the marble balustrade, whose -moonlit pallor was here and there splashed by the black tide of trailing -plants. - -'Now, sir,' she invited in a voice of ice, 'will you explain this new -identity and your presence here?' - -He answered in calm, level tones: 'My presence explains itself when I -tell you that my identity is accepted by his highness the Regent. The -son of Facino Cane is not to be denied the hospitality of the Court of -Montferrat.' - -'Then why did you lie to me when ...' - -'No, no. This is the lie. This false identity was as necessary to gain -admission here as was the painter's smock I wore yesterday: another -lie.' - -'You ask me to believe that you ...' Indignation choked her. 'My senses -tell me what you are; an agent sent to work my ruin.' - -'Your senses tell you either more or less, or else you would not now be -here.' - -And then it was as if the bonds of her self-control were suddenly -snapped by the strain they sought to bear. 'Oh, God!' she cried out. 'I -am near distraction. My brother ...' She broke off on something akin to -a sob. - -Outwardly Bellarion remained calm. 'Shall we take one thing at a time? -Else we shall never be done. And I should not remain here too long with -you.' - -'Why not? You have the sanction of my dear uncle, who sends you.' - -'Even so.' He lowered his voice to a whisper. 'It is your uncle is my -dupe, not you.' - -'That is what I expected you to say.' - -'You had best leave inference until you have heard me out. Inference, -highness, as I have shown you once already, is not your strength.' - -If she resented his words and the tone he took, she gave no expression -to it. Standing rigidly against the marble balustrade, she looked away -from him and down that moonlit garden with its inky shadows and tall yew -hedges that were sharp black silhouettes against the faintly irradiated -sky. - -Briefly, swiftly, lucidly, Bellarion told her how her message had been -received by the conspirators. - -'You thought to checkmate them. But they perceived the move you have -overlooked, whereby they checkmate you. This proves what already I have -told you: that they serve none but themselves. You and your brother are -but the instruments with which they go to work. There was only one way -to frustrate them; one only way to serve and save you. That way I -sought.' - -She interrupted him there. 'You sought? You sought?' Her voice held -bewilderment, unbelief, and even some anger. 'Why should you desire to -save or serve me? If I could believe you, I must account you -impertinent. You were a messenger, no more.' - -'Was I no more when I disclosed to you the true aims of these men and -the perils of your association with them?' - -'Aye, you were more,' she said bitterly. 'But what were you?' - -'Your servant, madonna,' he answered simply. - -'Ah, yes. I had forgotten. My servant. Sent by Providence, was it not?' - -'You are bitter, lady,' said Bellarion. - -'Am I?' She turned at last to look at him. But his face was no more than -a faint white blur. 'Perhaps I find you too sweet to be real.' - -He sighed. 'The rest of my tale will hardly change that opinion. Is it -worth while continuing?' He spoke without any heat, a little wistfully. - -'It should be entertaining if not convincing.' - -'For your entertainment, then: what you could not do without destroying -yourself was easily possible to me.' And he told her of his pretended -petition, giving the Regent the names of those who plotted against his -life. - -He saw her clutch her breast, caught the gasp of dread and dismay that -broke from her lips. - -'You betrayed them!' - -'Was it not what you announced that you would do if they did not abandon -their plan of murder? I was your deputy, no more. When I presented -myself as Facino Cane's adopted son I was readily believed--because the -Regent cared little whether it were true or not, since in me he -perceived the very agent that he needed.' - -'Ah, now at last we have something that does not strain belief.' - -'Will it strain belief that the Regent was already fully informed of -this conspiracy?' - -'What!' - -'Why else should he have trusted or believed me? Of his own knowledge he -knew that what I told him was true.' - -'He knew and he held his hand?' Again the question was made scornful by -unbelief. - -'Because he lacked evidence that you, and, through you, your brother, -were parties to the plot. What to him are Barbaresco's shabby crew? It -is the Marquis Gian Giacomo who must be removed in such a manner as not -to impair the Lord Regent's credit. To gather evidence am I now sent.' - -She tore an ostrich-plume from her fan in her momentary passion. - -'You do not hesitate to confess how you betray each in turn; Barbaresco -to the Regent; the Regent to me; and now, no doubt, me to the Regent.' - -'As for the last, madonna, to betray you I need not now be here. I could -have supplied the Regent with all the evidence he needs against you at -the same time that I supplied the evidence against the others.' - -She was silent, turning it over in her mind. And because her mind was -acute, she saw the proof his words afforded. But because afraid, she -mistrusted proof. - -'It may be part of the trap,' she complained. 'If it were not, why -should you remain after denouncing my friends? The aims you pretend -would have been fully served by that.' - -His answer was prompt and complete. - -'If I had departed, you would never have known the answer of those men -whom you trust, nor would you have known that there is a Judas amongst -them already. It was necessary to warn you.' - -'Yes,' she said slowly. 'I see, I think.' And then in sudden revolt -against the conviction he was forcing upon her, and in tones which if -low were vehement to the point of fierceness: 'Necessary!' she cried, -echoing the word he had used. 'Necessary! How was it necessary? Whence -this necessity of yours? A week ago you did not know me. Yet for me, who -am nothing to you, whose service carries no reward, you pretend yourself -prepared to labour and to take risks involving even your very life. That -is what you ask me to believe. You suppose me mad, I think.' - -As she faced him now, she fancied that a smile broke upon that face so -indistinctly seen. His voice, as he answered her, was very soft. - -'It is not mad to believe in madness. Madness exists, madonna. Set me -down as suffering from it. The air of the world is proving too strong -and heady, perhaps, for one bred in cloisters. It has intoxicated me, I -think.' - -She laughed chillingly. 'For once you offer an explanation that goes a -little lame. Your invention is failing, sir.' - -'Nay, lady; my understanding,' he answered sadly. - -She set a hand upon his arm. He felt it quivering there, which surprised -him almost as much as the change in her voice, now suddenly halting and -unsteady. - -'Messer Bellarion, if my suspicions wound you, set them down to my -distraction. It is so easy, so dangerously easy, to believe what we -desire to believe.' - -'I know,' he said gently. 'Yet when you've slept on what I've said, -you'll find that your safety lies in trusting me.' - -'Safety! Am I concerned with safety only? To-night you saw my brother...' - -'I saw. If that is Messer Castruccio's work ...' - -'Castruccio is but a tool. Come, sir. We talk in vain.' She began to -move along the terrace towards her waiting ladies. Suddenly she paused. -'I must trust you, Ser Bellarion. I must or I shall go mad in this ugly -tangle. I'll take the risk. If you are not true, if you win my trust -only to abuse it and work the evil will of the Regent, then God will -surely punish you.' - -'I think so, too,' he breathed. - -'Tell me now,' she questioned, 'what shall you say to my uncle?' - -'Why, that I have talked with you fruitlessly; that either you have no -knowledge of Barbaresco or else you withheld it from me.' - -'Shall you come again?' - -'If you desire it. The way is open now. But what remains to do?' - -'You may discover that.' Thus she conveyed that, having resolved to give -him her trust, she gave it without stint. - -They came back into the hall, where stiff and formally Bellarion made -his valedictory bow, then went to take his leave of the Regent. - -The Regent disengaged himself from the group of which he was the centre, -and, taking Bellarion by the arm, drew him apart a little. - -'I have made a sounding,' Bellarion informed him. 'Either she mistrusts -me, or else she knows nothing of Barbaresco.' - -'Be sure of the former, sir,' said the Regent softly. 'Procure -credentials from Barbaresco, and try again. It should be easy, so.' - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -UNDER SUSPICION - - -At Barbaresco's a surprise awaited Messer Bellarion. The whole company -of plotters swarmed about him as he entered the long dusty room of the -mezzanine, and he found himself gripped at once between the fierce -Casella and the reckless Spigno. He did not like their looks, nor those -of any man present. Least of all did he like the looks of Barbaresco who -confronted him, oily and falsely suave of manner. - -'Where have you been, Master Bellarion?' - -He realised that he had need of his wits. - -He looked round with surprise and contempt in his stare. - -'Oh, yes, you're conspirators to the life,' he told them. 'You see a spy -in every neighbour, a betrayal in every act. Oh, you have eyes; but no -wit to inform your vision. God help those who trust you! God help you -all!' He wrenched at the arms that held him. 'Let me go, fools.' - -Barbaresco licked his lips. His right hand was held behind his back. -Stealthily almost he came a step nearer, so that he was very close. - -'Not until you tell us where you have been. Not then, unless you tell us -more.' - -Bellarion's sneer became more marked; but no fear showed in his glance. -'Where I have been, you know. Hence these tragical airs. I've been to -court.' - -'To what end, Bellarion?' Barbaresco softly questioned. The others -preserved a frozen, watchful silence. - -'To betray you, of course.' He was boldly ironical. 'Having done so, I -return so that you may slit my throat.' - -Spigno laughed, and released the arm he held. - -'I for one am answered. I told you from the first I did not believe it.' - -Casella, however, hung on fiercely. 'I'll need a clear answer before -I ...' - -'Give me air, man,' cried Bellarion impatiently, and wrenched his arm -free. 'No need to maul me. I'll not run. There are seven of you to -prevent me, and reflection may cool your humours. Reflect, for instance, -that, if I were for running, I should not have come back.' - -'You tell us what you would not or did not do. We ask you what you did,' -Barbaresco insisted. - -'I'll tell you yet another thing I would not have done if my aim had -been betrayal. I should not have gone openly to court so that you might -hear of my presence there.' - -'The very argument I employed,' Spigno reminded them, with something of -Bellarion's own scorn in his manner now. 'Let the boy tell his tale.' - -They muttered among themselves. Bellarion crossed the room under their -black looks, moving with the fearless air of a man strong in the sense -of his own integrity. He slid into a chair. - -'There is nothing to tell that is not self-evident already. I went to -carry your message to the Princess Valeria; to point out to her the -position of checkmate in which you hold her; to make her realize that -being committed to this enterprise, she cannot now either draw back or -dictate to us the means by which our aims are to be reached. All this, -I rejoice to tell you, I have happily accomplished.' - -Again it was Barbaresco who was their spokesman. 'All this we may -believe when you tell us why you chose to go to court to do it, and how, -being what you represent yourself to be, you succeeded in gaining -admission.' - -'God give me patience with you, dear Saint Thomas!' said Bellarion, -sighing. 'I went to court because the argument I foresaw with the -Princess was hardly one to be conducted furtively behind a hedge. It -threatened to be protracted. Besides, for furtive dealing, sirs, bold -and open approaches are best when they are possible. They were possible -to me. It happens, sirs, that I am indeed the adoptive son of Facino -Cane, and I perceived how I might use that identity to present myself at -court and there move freely.' - -A dozen questions rained upon him. He answered them all in a phrase. - -'The Ambassador of Milan, Messer Aliprandi, was there to sponsor me.' - -There was a silence, broken at last by Barbaresco. 'Aliprandi may have -been your sponsor there. He cannot be your sponsor here, and you know -it.' - -'Aye,' growled white-haired Lungo. 'An impudent tale!' - -'And a lame one,' added Casella. 'If you had this means of going to -court, why did you wait so long to seize it?' - -'Other ways were open on former occasions. You forget that Madonna -Valeria was not expecting me; the garden-gate would not be ajar. And I -could not this time go as a painter, which was the disguise I adopted on -the last occasion. Besides, it is too expensive. It cost me five -ducats.' - -Again their questions came together, for it was the first they had heard -of the disguise which he had used. He told them at last the story. And -he saw that it pleased them. - -'Why did you not tell us this before?' quoth one. - -Bellarion shrugged. 'Is it important? So that I was your Mercury, did it -matter in what shape I went? Why should I trouble you with trivial -things? Besides, let me remind you--since you can't perceive it for -yourselves--that if I had betrayed you to the Marquis Theodore, the -Captain of Justice would now be here in my place.' - -'That, at least, is not to be denied,' said Spigno, and in his vehemence -carried two or three others with him. - -But the fierce Casella was not of those, nor Lungo, nor Barbaresco. - -The latter least of all, for a sudden memory had stirred in him. His -blue eyes narrowed until they were almost hidden in his great red -cheeks. - -'How does it happen that none at court recognized in you the palace -amanuensis?' - -Bellarion perceived his danger, and learnt the lesson that a lie may -become a clumsy obstacle to trip a man. But of the apprehension he -suddenly felt, no trace revealed itself upon his countenance. - -'It is possible some did. What then? Neither identity contradicts the -other. And remember, pray, that Messer Aliprandi was there to avouch -me.' - -'But he cannot avouch you here,' Barbaresco said again, and sternly -asked: 'Who can?' - -Bellarion looked at him, and from him to the others who seemed to await -almost in breathlessness his answer. - -'Do you demand of me proof that I am the adoptive son of Facino Cane?' -he asked. - -'So much do we demand it that unless you can afford it your sands are -run, my cockerel,' Casella answered him, his fingers on his dagger as he -spoke. - -It was a case for bold measures if he would gain time. Given this, he -knew that all things may become possible, and there was one particular -thing his shrewd calculations accounted probable here if only he could -induce them to postpone until to-morrow the slitting of his throat. - -'So be it. From here to Cigliano it is no more than a day's ride on a -good horse. Let one of you go ask the Abbot of the Grazie the name of -him Facino left in the convent's care.' - -'A name?' cried Casella, sneering. 'Is that all the proof?' - -'All if the man who goes is a fool. If not he may obtain from the Abbot -a minute description of this Bellarion. If more is needed I'll give you -a note of the clothes I wore and the gear and money with which I left -the Grazie that you may obtain confirmation of that, too.' - -But Barbaresco was impatient. 'Even so, what shall all this prove? It -cannot prove you true. It cannot prove that you are not a spy sent -hither to betray and sell us.' - -'No,' Bellarion agreed. 'But it will prove that the identity on which I -won to court is what I represent it, and that will be something as a -beginning. The rest--if there is more--can surely wait.' - -'And meanwhile ...?' Casella was beginning. - -'Meanwhile I am in your hands. You're never so blood-thirsty that you -cannot postpone murdering me until you've verified my tale?' - -That was what they fell to discussing among themselves there in his very -presence, affording him all the excitement of watching the ball of his -fate tossed this way and that among the disputants. - -In the end the game might have gone against him but for Count Spigno, -who laboured Bellarion's own argument that if he had betrayed them he -would never have incurred the risk of returning amongst them. - -In the end they deprived Bellarion of the dagger which was his only -weapon, and then Barbaresco, Casella, and Spigno jointly conducted him -above-stairs to a shabby chamber under the roof. It had no windows, -whence an evasion might be attempted, and was lighted by a glazed oblong -some ten feet overhead at the highest part of the sharply sloping -ceiling. It contained no furniture, nor indeed anything beyond some -straw and sacking in a corner which he was bidden to regard as his bed -for that night and probably for the next. - -They pinioned his wrists behind him for greater safety, and Casella bade -him be thankful that the cord was not being tightened about his neck -instead. Upon that they went out, taking the light with them, locking -the door, and leaving him a prisoner in the dark. - -He stood listening to their footsteps receding down the stairs, then he -looked up at the oblong of moonlight in his ceiling. If the glass were -removed, there would be room for a man to pass through and gain the -roof. But considering the slope of it, the passage might as easily lead -to a broken neck as to liberty, and in any case he had neither the power -nor the means to reach it. - -He squatted upon the meagre bedding, with his chin almost upon his -knees, in an attitude of extreme discomfort, making something in the -nature of an assessment of his mental and emotional equipment. Seen now -from the point of view of cold reason to which danger had sharply -brought him, his career since leaving the peace of the Grazie a week ago -seemed fantastic and incredible. Destiny had made sport with him. -Sentimentality had led him by the nose. He had mixed himself in the -affairs of a state through which he was no more than a wayfarer, because -moved to interest in the fortunes of a young woman of exalted station -who would probably dismiss his memory with a sigh when she came to learn -how his throat had been cut by the self-seeking fools with whom so -recklessly she had associated herself. It was, he supposed, a -manifestation of that romantic and unreasonable phenomenon known as -chivalry. If he extricated himself alive from this predicament, he would -see to it that whatever follies he committed in the future, chivalry -would certainly not be found amongst them. Experience had cured him of -any leanings in that direction. It had also inspired doubts of the -infallibility of his syllogism on the subject of evil. He suspected a -flaw in it somewhere. For evil most certainly existed. His respect for -the value of experience was rapidly increasing. - -He shifted his position, stretched himself out, and lay on his side, -contemplating the patch of moonlight on the floor, and speculating upon -his chances of winning out of this death-trap. Of these he took an -optimistic view. The assistance upon which Bellarion chiefly counted was -that of the traitor amongst the conspirators, whom he strove vainly to -identify in the light of their behaviour that evening. Spigno had been -the only one who by advocating Bellarion's cause had procured him this -respite. Yet Spigno was one of the first to spring upon him dagger in -hand, on his return from court. But the traitor, whoever he might be, -would probably report the event to the Marquis Theodore, and the Marquis -should take steps directly or indirectly to procure the release of one -whom he must now regard as a valuable agent. - -That, thought Bellarion, was the probability. Meanwhile he would -remember that probabilities are by no means certainties, and he would be -watchful for an opportunity to help himself. - -On these reflections he must have fallen asleep, and he must have slept -for some time, for, when suddenly he awakened, the patch of moonlight -was gone from the floor. That was his first conscious observation; his -second what that something was stirring near at hand. He raised himself -on his elbow, an operation by no means easy with pinioned wrists, and -turned his head in the direction of the sound, to perceive a faint but -increasing rhomb of light from the direction of the doorway, and to -understand with the next heartbeat that the door was being slowly and -stealthily pushed open. - -That was, he afterwards confessed, his first real acquaintance with the -emotion of fear; fear that roughened his skin and chilled his spine; -fear inspired by the instantaneous conviction that here came some one to -murder him as he lay there bound and helpless. - -The suspense was but of seconds, yet in those seconds Bellarion seemed -to live an age as he watched that slowly widening gap and the faint -light which increased in area but hardly in illumination. Then the -shadowy form of a man slipped through, darkly discernible in the faint -glow from the veiled light he carried. - -Very softly came his voice: 'Sh! Quiet! Make no sound!' - -The note of warning partially calmed the tumult of Bellarion's heart, -which was thudding in his throat as if to suffocate him. - -As quietly as it had been opened the door was closed again, a thin and -partially translucent mantle was pulled from the lantern it had been -muffling, and the light beating through the horn panes was reflected -from the floor and walls upon the lean, aquiline features of Count -Spigno. - -Bellarion uttered something that sounded like a chuckle. - -'I was expecting you,' said he. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -COUNT SPIGNO - - -Spigno set the lantern on the floor, and came forward. 'No need to -talk,' he muttered. 'Roll over so that I can free your hands.' He drew -his dagger and with it cut Bellarion's bonds. - -'Take off your shoes. Make haste.' - -Bellarion squatted upon his bedding, and with blundering fingers, still -numb from the thong, he removed his footgear. His wits worked briskly, -and it was not at all upon the subject of his escape that they were -busy. Despite his late resolves, and although still far from being out -of peril, with the chance of salvation no more than in sight, he was -already at his knight-errantry again. - -He stood up at last, and Spigno was whispering urgently. - -'Wait! We must not go together. Give me five minutes to win clear; then -follow.' - -Bellarion considered him, and his eyes were very grave. - -'But when my evasion is discovered ...' he was beginning. - -Spigno impatiently broke in, explaining hurriedly. - -'I am the last they will suspect. The others are all here to-night. But -I pleaded urgent reasons why I could not remain. I made a pretence of -departing; then hid below until all were asleep. They will be at each -other's throats in the morning over this.' He smiled darkly in -satisfaction of his cunning. 'I'll take the light. You know your way -about this house better than I do. Tread softly when you come.' - -He was turning to take up the lantern when Bellarion arrested him. - -'You'll wait for me outside?' - -'To what end? Nay, now. There is no purpose in that.' - -'Let me come with you, then. If I should stumble in the dark they'll be -upon me.' - -'Take care that you do not.' - -'At least leave me your dagger since you take the light.' - -'Here, then.' Spigno unsheathed and surrendered the weapon to him. - -Bellarion gripped the hilt. With very sombre eyes he considered the -Count. Then the latter turned aside again for the lantern. - -'A moment,' said Bellarion. - -'What now?' - -Impatiently Spigno faced once more the queer glance of those dark eyes, -and in that moment Bellarion stabbed him. - -It was a swift, hard-driven, merciful stroke that found the unfortunate -man's heart and quenched his life before he had time to realise that it -was threatened. - -Without a sound he reeled back under the blow. Bellarion's left arm went -round his shoulders to ease him to the ground. But Spigno's limbs sagged -under him. He sank through Bellarion's embrace like an empty sack, and -then rolled over sideways. - -The murderer choked back a sob. His legs were trembling like empty hose -with which the wind makes sport. His face was leaden-hued and his sight -was blurred by tears. He went down on his knees beside the dead count, -turned him on his back, straightened out the twitching limbs, and folded -the arms across the breast. Nor did he rise when this was done. - -In slaying Count Spigno, he had performed a necessary act; necessary in -the service to which he had dedicated himself. Thus at a blow he had -shattered the instrument upon which the Marquis Theodore was depending -to encompass his nephew's ruin; and the discovery to-morrow of Spigno's -death and Bellarion's own evasion, in circumstances of unfathomable -mystery, must strike such terror into the hearts of the conspirators -that there would probably be an end to the plotting which served no -purpose but to advance the Regent's schemes. - -Yet, despite these heartening reflections, Bellarion could not shake off -his horror. He had done murder, and he had done it in cold blood, -deliberate and calculatingly. Worse than all--his convent rearing -asserting itself here--he had sent a man unshriven to confront his -Maker. He hoped that the unexpectedness with which Spigno's doom had -overtaken him would be weighed in the balance against the sins which -death had surprised upon him. - -That is why he remained on his knees and with joined hands prayed -fervently and passionately for the repose of the soul which he had -despatched to judgment. So intent was he that he took no heed of the -precious time that was meanwhile speeding. For perhaps a quarter of an -hour he continued there in prayer, then crossing himself he rose at last -and gave thought to his own escape. - -Thrusting his shoes into his belt and muffling the lantern as Spigno had -muffled it, he set out, the naked dagger in his right hand. - -A stair creaked under his step and then another, and each time he -checked and caught his breath, listening intently. Once he fancied that -he heard a movement below, and the sound so alarmed him that it was some -moments before he could proceed. - -He gained the floor below in safety, and rounding the balusters -continued his cautious descent towards the mezzanine, where, as he knew, -Barbaresco slept. Midway down he heard that sound again, this time -unmistakably the sound of some one moving in the passage to the right, -in the direction of Barbaresco's room. He stopped abruptly, and thrust -the muffled lantern behind him, so that the faint glow of it might not -beat downwards upon the gloom to betray him. He was conscious of pulses -drumming in his temples, for shaken by the night's events he was now -become an easy prey to fear. - -Suddenly to his increasing horror, another, stronger light fell along -the passage. It grew steadily as he watched it, and with it came a sound -of softly shod feet, a mutter in a voice that he knew for Barbaresco's, -and an answering mutter in the high-pitched voice of Barbaresco's old -servant. - -His first impulse was to turn and flee upwards, back the way he had -come. But thus he would be rushing into a trap, which would be closed by -Barbaresco's guests, who slept most probably above. - -Then, bracing himself for whatever fate might send, he bounded boldly -and swiftly forward, no longer troubling to tread lightly. His aim was -to round the stairs and thereafter trust to speed to complete the -descent and gain the street. But the noise he made brought Barbaresco -hurrying forward, and at the foot of that flight they confronted each -other, Bellarion's way barred by the gentleman of Casale who loosed at -sight of him a roar that roused the house. - -Barbaresco was in bedgown and slippers, a candle in one hand; his -servant following at his heels. He was unarmed. But not on that account -could he shirk the necessity of tackling and holding this fugitive, -whose flight itself was an abundant advertisement of his treachery, and -whose evasion now might be attended by direst results. - -He passed the candle to his servant, and flung himself bodily upon -Bellarion, pinning the young man's arms to his sides, and roaring -lustily the while. Bellarion struggled silently and grimly in that -embrace which was like the hug of a bear, for despite his corpulence -Barbaresco was as strong as he was heavy. But the grip he had taken, -whilst having the advantage of pinning down the hand that held the -dagger, was one that it is impossible long to maintain upon an opponent -of any vigour; and before he could sufficiently bend him to receive his -weight, Bellarion had broken loose. Old Andrea, the servant, having set -the candle upon the floor, was running in now to seize Bellarion's legs. -He knocked Andrea over, winded by a well-directed kick in the stomach, -then swung aloft his dagger as Barbaresco rushed at him again. It was in -his mind, as he afterwards declared, that he did not desire another -murder on his soul that night. But if another murder there must be, he -preferred that it should not be his own. So he struck without pity. -Barbaresco swerved, throwing up his right arm to parry the blow, and -received the long blade to the hilt in his fleshy forearm. - -He fell back, clapping his hand to the bubbling wound and roaring like a -bull in pain, just as Casella, almost naked, but sword in hand, came -bounding down the stairs with Lungo and yet another following. - -For a second it seemed to Bellarion that he had struck too late. If he -attempted now to regain the staircase he must inevitably be cut off, and -how could he hope with a dagger to meet Casella's sword? Then, on a new -thought, he darted forward, and plunged into the long room of that -mezzanine. He slammed the door, and shot home the bolts, before Casella -and Lungo brought up against it on the other side. - -He uncovered at last his lantern and set it down. He dragged the heavy -table across the door, so as to reënforce it against their straining -shoulders. Then snatching up the cloak in which the lantern had been -muffled he made for the window, and threw it open. - -He paused to put on his shoes, what time the baffled conspirators were -battering and straining at the door. Then he forced the naked dagger as -far as it would go into the empty sheath that dangled from his own belt, -and tied a corner of the cloak securely to one of the stone mullions so -that some five or six feet of it dangled below the sill. Onto this sill -he climbed, turned, knelt, and laid hold of the cloak with both hands. - -He had but to let himself down hand over hand for the length of cloth, -and then only an easy drop of a few feet would lie between himself and -safety. - -But even as he addressed himself to this, the house-door below was -opened with a clatter, and out into the street sprang two of the -conspirators. - -He groaned as he looked down upon them from his precarious position. -Whilst they, in their shirts, capering fantastically as it seemed to him -in the shaft of light that cut athwart the gloom from the open door, -brandished their glittering blades and waited. - -Since there could be no salvation in climbing back, he realised that he -was at the end of the wild career he had run since leaving the peace of -the Grazie a week ago. A week! He had lived a lifetime in that week, and -he had looked more than once in the face of death. He thought of the -Abbot's valedictory words: '_Pax multa in cella, foris autem plurima -bella_.' What would he not give now to be back in the peace of that -convent cell! - -As he hung there, between two deaths, he sought to compose his mind to -prayer, to prepare his soul for judgment, by an act of contrition for -his sins. Nor could he in that supreme hour take comfort in his old -heresy that sin is a human fiction. - -And then, even as his despair of body and spirit touched its nadir, he -caught a sound that instantly heartened him: the approach of regularly -tramping feet. - -Those below heard it, too. The watch was on its rounds. The murderous -twain took counsel for a moment. Then, fearing to be surprised there, -they darted through the doorway, and closed the door again, just as the -patrol with lanterns swinging from their halberts came round the corner -not a dozen yards away. - -With nothing to fear from these, Bellarion now let himself swiftly down -the length of the cloak and dropped lightly to the ground. - -He was breathing easily and oddly disposed to laugh when the officer -came up with him, and the patrol of six made a half-circle round him. - -'What's this?' he was challenged. 'Why do you prefer a window to a door, -my friend?' - -Bellarion was still seeking a plausible answer when the officer's face -came nearer to his own upon which the light was beating down. -Recognition was mutual. It was that same officer who had hunted him from -the tavern of the Stag to the Palace gardens. - -'By the Blood!' cried Messer Bernabó. 'It is Lorenzaccio's fleet young -friend. Well met, my cockerel! I've been seeking you this week. You -shall tell me where you've been hiding.' - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -THE TRIAL - - -The court of the Podestà of Casale was commonly well attended, and -often some of the attendance would be distinguished. The Princess -Valeria, for instance, would sometimes sit with the ladies in the little -minstrels' gallery of what had once been the banqueting-hall of the -Communal Palace, and by her presence attest her interest in all that -concerned the welfare of the people of Montferrat. Occasionally, too, as -became a prince who desired to be regarded as a father of his people, -the Marquis Theodore would come to observe for himself how justice was -administered in his name, or in the name of the boy whose deputy he was. - -On the morning after that affray at Messer Barbaresco's house, both the -Regent and his niece were to be seen in that hall of justice, the latter -aloft in the gallery, the former in a chair placed on the dais alongside -of the Podestà's seat of state. The Regent's countenance was grave, his -brow thoughtful. This was proper to the occasion, but hardly due to the -causes supposed by the spectators. Disclosures now inevitable might win -him an increase of the public sympathy he enjoyed. But because premature -they temporarily wrecked his real aims, wrecked in any case by the death -of his agent Spigno. - -There were other notabilities present. Messer Aliprandi--who had -expressly postponed his departure for Milan--was seated beside the -Regent. Behind them against the grey stone wall lounged a glittering -group of courtiers, in which Castruccio da Fenestrella was conspicuous. - -In the body of the court seethed a crowd composed of citizens of almost -every degree, rigidly kept clear of the wide space before the dais by a -dozen men-at-arms forming a square with partisans held horizontally. - -On the left of the Podestà, who was clothed in a scarlet robe and wore -a flat round scarlet cap that was edged with miniver, sat his two -assessors in black, and below these two scriveners. The Podestà -himself, Angelo de' Ferraris, a handsome, bearded man of fifty, was a -Genoese, to comply with the universal rule throughout Italy that the -high office of justiciary should ever be held by one who was a foreigner -to the State, so as to ensure the disinterestedness and purity of the -justice he dispensed. - -Some minor cases had briefly been heard and judged, and the court now -awaited the introduction of that prisoner who was responsible for this -concourse above the average in numbers and quality. - -He came in at last, between guards, tall, comely, with thick glossy -black hair that fell to the nape of his neck, his brave red suit -considerably disordered and the worse for wear. He was pale from lack of -sleep, for he had spent what was left of the night in the town gaol -among the vermin-infested scourings of Casale, where he had deemed it -prudent to maintain himself awake. Perhaps because of this, too, he -suffered a moment's loss of his admirable self-command when upon first -entering there he found himself scanned by eyes so numerous and so -varied. For an instant he paused, disconcerted, experiencing something -of that shyness which is a mixture of mistrust and resentment, peculiar -to wild creatures. But the emotion was transient. Before it could be -remarked, he had recovered his normal poise, and advanced to the place -assigned him on the broad stone flags, bowed to the Regent and the -Podestà, then waited, his head high, his glance steady. - -On the hush that fell came the Podestà's voice, sternly calm. - -'Your name?' - -'Bellarion Cane.' Since that was the name he had given himself when he -had sought the Regent, the lie must be maintained. It was dangerous, of -course. But dangers hemmed him in on every side. - -'Your father's name?' - -'Facino Cane is my adoptive father's name. The name of my carnal parents -I do not know.' - -Desired to explain himself, he did so, and his explanation was a model -of brevity and lucidity. It bore witness to a calm which argued to his -listeners an easy conscience. But the Podestà was to deal with certain -facts rather than uncertain personal impressions. - -'You came hither a week ago in the company of one Lorenzaccio da Trino, -a bandit with a price on his head. To this one of my officers who is -present bears witness. Do you deny it?' - -'I do not. It is possible for an honest man to travel in the company of -a rogue.' - -'You were with him at a house in the district of Casale where a theft -was committed and the owner of which was subsequently murdered here in -the hostelry of the Stag by this same Lorenzaccio whilst in your -company. The murdered man recognised you before he died. Do you confess -to this?' - -'Confession implies sin and the seeking of forgiveness. I admit the -facts freely. They nowise contradict my previous statement. But that is -not a confession.' - -'Yet if you were innocent of evil why did you run away from my officer? -Why did you not remain, and state then what you have stated now?' - -'Because the appearances were against me. I acted upon impulse, and -foolishly as men act when they do not pause first to reflect.' - -'You found shelter in the house of the Lord Annibale Barbaresco. No -doubt you told him your story, represented yourself as an innocent man -betrayed by appearances, and so moved his compassion.' - -The Podestà paused. Bellarion did not answer. He let the statement -pass. He knew the source of it. Last night when the officer had roused -the house and announced to Barbaresco his prisoner's supposed -association with Lorenzaccio, Barbaresco had fastened upon it to explain -the events. - -'Last night you attempted to rob him, and being caught in the act by -Count Spigno, you slew the Count and afterwards wounded the Lord -Barbaresco himself. You were in the act of escaping from the house by -one of its windows when the watch supervened and caught you. Do you -admit all this?' - -'I do not. Nor will the circumstances. I am a robber, it is said. I -spend a week in Messer Barbaresco's house. On any night of that week I -was alone with him, save only for his decrepit old servant. Yet it is -pretended that I chose as the occasion for robbing him a night on which -seven able-bodied friends are with him. Your potency must see that the -facts are mocked by likelihood.' - -His potency saw this, as did all present. They saw more. This young -man's speech and manner were those of the scholar he proclaimed himself -rather than of the robber he was represented. - -The justiciary leaned forward, combing his short pointed beard. - -'What, then, do you say took place? Let us hear you.' - -'Is it not within the forms of law that we should first hear my -accuser--this Messer Barbaresco?' Bellarion's bold dark eyes raked the -court, seeking the stout person of his late host. - -The Podestà smiled a little, and his smile was not quite nice. - -'Ah, you know the law? Trust a rogue to know the law.' - -'Which is to make a rogue of every lawyer in the land,' said Bellarion, -and was rewarded by a titter from the crowd, pleased with a sarcasm that -contained more truth than he suspected. 'I know the law as I know -divinity and rhetoric and other things. Because I have studied it.' - -'Maybe,' said the Podestà grimly. 'But not as closely as you are to -study it now.' Messer de' Ferraris, too, could deal in sarcasm. - -An officer with excitement spread upon his face came bustling into the -court. But paused upon perceiving that the justiciary was speaking. - -'Your accuser,' said Messer de' Ferraris, 'you have heard already, or at -least his accusation, which I have pronounced to you. That accusation -you are now required to answer.' - -'Required?' said Bellarion, and all marvelled at the calm of this man -who knew no fear of persons. 'By what am I so required? Not by the law, -which prescribes that an accused shall hear his accuser in person and be -given leave to question him upon his accusations. Your excellency should -not be impatient that I stand upon the rights of an accused. Let Messer -Barbaresco come forth, and out of his own mouth he shall destroy his -falsehood.' - -His manner might impress the general, but it did not conciliate his -judge. - -'Why, rogue, do you command here?' - -'The law does,' said Bellarion, 'and I voice the law.' - -'You voice the law!' The Podestà smiled upon him. 'Well, well! I will -be patient as you bid me in your impudence. Messer Barbaresco shall be -heard.' There was an infinite threat in his tone. He leaned back, and -looked round the court. 'Let Messer Barbaresco stand forth.' - -There was a rustle and mutter of expectation through the court; for this -stiff-necked young cockerel promised to give good entertainment. Then -the excited officer who had lately entered thrust forward into the open -space. - -'Excellency, Messer Barbaresco is gone. He left Casale at sunrise, as -soon as the gates were opened, and with him went the six whose names -were on Messer Bernabó's list. The captain of the Lombard Gate is here -to speak to it.' - -Bellarion laughed, and was sternly bidden to remember where he stood and -to observe the decencies. - -The captain of the Lombard Gate stood forth to confirm the other's tale. -A party of eight had ridden out of the town soon after sunrise, taking -the road to Lombardy. One who rode with his arm in a sling he had -certainly recognised for my Lord Barbaresco, and he had recognised three -others whom he named and a fourth whom he knew for Barbaresco's servant. - -The Regent stroked his chin and turned to the Podestà, who was clearly -taken aback. - -'Why was this permitted?' he asked sternly. - -The Podestà was ill-at-ease. 'I had no news of this man's arrest until -long after sunrise. But in any case it is not usual to detain accusers.' - -'To detain them, no. But to take certain precautions where the features -are so peculiar.' - -'Their peculiarity, highness, with submission, becomes apparent only in -this flight.' - -The Regent sank back in his chair, and his pale blue eyes were veiled -behind lowered lids. 'Well, well! I interrupt the course of justice. The -prisoner waits.' - -A little bewildered, not only by the turn of events, but by the Regent's -attitude, the Podestà addressed Bellarion with a little less judicial -sternness. - -'You have heard, sir, that your accuser is not here to speak in person.' - -Again Bellarion laughed. 'I have heard that he has spoken. His flight is -an eloquent testimony to the falsehood of his charge.' - -'Sir, sir,' the Podestà admonished him. 'You are to satisfy this court. -You are to afford us your own version of what took place that the ends -of justice may be served.' - -Now here was a change of tone, thought Bellarion, and he was no longer -addressed contemptuously as 'rogue.' He took full advantage of it. - -'I am to testify? Why, so I will.' He looked at the Regent, and found -the Regent's eyes upon him, stern and commanding in a face that was set. -He read its message. - -'But there is little to which I can speak, for I do not know the cause -of the quarrel that broke out between Count Spigno and Messer -Barbaresco. I was not present at the beginnings. I was drawn to it by -the uproar, and when I arrived, Count Spigno was already dead. At sight -of me, perhaps because I was a witness and might inform against them, I -was set upon by Messer Barbaresco and his friends. I wounded Barbaresco, -and so got away, locking myself in a room. I was escaping thence by a -window when the watch came up. That is all I can say.' - -It was a tale, he thought, that must convey to the Regent the full -explanation. But whatever it may have done in that quarter, it did not -satisfy the Podestà. - -'I could credit this more easily,' said the latter, 'but for the -circumstance that Count Spigno and yourself were fully dressed, whilst -Messer Barbaresco and the others were in their shirts. That in itself -suggests who were the aggressors, who the attacked.' - -'It might but for the flight of Messer Barbaresco and the others. -Innocent men do not run away.' - -'Out of your own mouth you have pronounced it,' thundered the Podestà. -'You profess innocence of association with Lorenzaccio. Yet you ran away -on that occasion.' - -'Oh, but the difference ... The appearances against a single man unknown -in these parts ...' - -'Can you explain how you and the dead count came to be dressed and the -others not?' It was more than a question. It was a challenge. - -Bellarion looked at the Regent. But the Regent made no sign. He -continued to eye Bellarion coldly and sternly. Ready enough to tell the -full lie he had prepared, yet he had the wit to perceive that the -Regent, whilst not suspecting its untruth, might find the disclosure -inconvenient, in which case he would certainly be lost. As a spy, he -reasoned, he could only be of value to the Regent as long as this fact -remained undiscovered. So he took his resolve. - -'Why Count Spigno was dressed, I cannot say. My own condition was the -result of accident. I had been to court last night. I returned late, and -I was tired. I fell asleep in a chair, and slept until the uproar -aroused me.' - -Bellarion fancied that the Regent's glance approved him. But the -Podestà slowly shook his head. - -'A convenient tale,' he sneered, 'but lame. Can you do no better?' - -'Can any man do better than the truth?' demanded Bellarion firmly, and -in the circumstances impudently. 'You ask me to explain things that are -outside my knowledge.' - -'We shall see.' The tone was a threat. 'The hoist has often been known -to stimulate a man's memory and to make it accurate.' - -'The hoist?' Bellarion's spirit trembled, for all that his mien -preserved its boldness. He looked again at the Regent, this time for -succour. The Regent was whispering to Messer Aliprandi, and almost at -once the Orator of Milan leaned forward to address the Podestà. - -'My I speak a word in your court, my lord?' - -The Podestà turned to him in some surprise. It was not often that an -ambassador intervened in the trial of a rogue accused of theft and -murder. - -'At your good pleasure, my lord.' - -'With submission, then, may I beg that, considering the identity claimed -by this prisoner and the relationship urged with his magnificence the -Count of Biandrate, the proceedings against him be suspended until this -identity shall have been tested by ordinary means?' - -The ambassador paused. The Podestà, supreme autocrat of justice, had -thrown up his head, resentful of such very definite interference. But -before he could answer, the Regent was adding the weight of his support -to the Orator's request. - -'However unusual this may be, Messer de' Ferraris,' he said, in his -quiet, cultured voice, 'you will realise with me that if the prisoner's -identity prove to be as he says, and if his present position should be -the result of a chain of unfortunate circumstances, we should by -proceeding to extremes merely provoke against Montferrat the resentment -of our exalted friend the Count of Biandrate.' - -Thus was it demonstrated to Bellarion how much may hang upon a man's -wise choice of a parent. - -The Podestà bowed his head. There was a moment's silence before he -spoke. - -'By what means is it proposed that the accused's pretended identity -shall be tested?' - -It was Bellarion who spoke. 'I had a letter from the Abbot of the Grazie -of Cigliano, which this Lorenzaccio stole from me, but which the -officer ...' - -'We have that letter,' the Podestà interrupted, his voice harsh. 'It -says nothing of your paternity, and for the rest it can prove nothing -until you prove how it was acquired!' - -'He claims,' Aliprandi interposed again, 'to come from the Convent of -the Grazie of Cigliano, where Messer Facino Cane placed him some years -ago. It should not be difficult, nor greatly delay the satisfaction of -justice, to seek at the convent confirmation of his tale. If it is -confirmed, let one of the fathers who knows him attend here to say -whether this is the same man.' - -The Podestà combed his beard in silence. 'And if so?' he inquired at -last. - -'Why, then, sir, your mind will be delivered at least of the prejudice -created by this young man's association with a bandit. And you will be -in better case to judge his share in last night's events.' - -There, to the general disappointment, ended for the moment the odd -affair of Bellarion Cane, which in the disclosures it foreshadowed had -promised such unusual entertainment. - -The Regent remained in court after Bellarion's removal, lest it be -supposed that his interest in the administration of justice had been -confined to that case alone. But Messer Aliprandi withdrew, as did most -of those others who came from the palace, and amongst them, pale and -troubled, went the Princess Valeria. To Dionara she vented something of -her dismay and anger. - -'A thief, a spy, a murderer,' she said. 'And I trusted him that he might -ruin all my hopes. I have the wages of a fool.' - -'But if he were what he claims to be?' Monna Dionara asked her. - -'Would that make him any less what he is? He was sent to spy on me, that -he might discover what was plotting. My heart told me so. Yet to the end -I heeded rather his own false tongue.' - -'But if he were a spy, why should he have urged you to break off -relations with these plotters?' - -'So that he might draw from me a fuller revelation of my intentions. It -was he who murdered Spigno; Spigno the shrewdest, the most loyal and -trustworthy of them all. Spigno upon whom I depended to curb their -recklessness and yet to give them audacity in season. And this vile -creature of my uncle's has murdered him.' Her eyes were heavy with -unshed tears. - -'But if so, why was he arrested?' - -'An accident. That was not in the reckoning. I went to see how they -would deal with that. And I saw.' - -Madonna Dionara's vision, however, was less clear, or else clearer. - -'Yet I do not understand why he should murder the Count.' - -'Do you not?' The Princess laughed a little, quite mirthlessly. 'It is -not difficult to reconstruct the happening. Spigno was dressed, and so -was he. Spigno suspected him, and followed him last night to watch him. -The scoundrel's bold appearance at court was his one mistake, his -inexplicable imprudence. Spigno taxed him with it on his return, pressed -him, perhaps, with questions that unmasked him, and so to save his own -skin this Bellarion slew the Count. Why else are the others all fled? -Because they know themselves detected. Is it not all crystal clear?' - -The Lady Dionara shook her head. 'If it was your brother's ruin the -Marquis Theodore plotted, this surely frustrates his own ends. If it -were as you say, Messer Bellarion would have spoken out boldly in court, -and told his tale. Why, being what you suppose him, should he keep -silent, when by speaking he could best serve the Regent's purposes?' - -'I do not know,' the Princess confessed, 'nor does any ever know the -Regent's purposes. He works quietly, craftily, slowly, and he will never -strike until he is sure that the blow must be final. This rogue's -conduct was an obedience to the Regent's commands. Did you not see the -looks that passed between them? Did you not see that when Messer -Aliprandi intervened it was after a whisper from my uncle?' - -'But if this man were not what he says he is, what can the intervention -avail in the end?' - -Madonna Valeria was wholly scornful now. 'He may be what he claims and -yet at the same time what I know him to be. Why not? Where is the -contradiction? Yet I dare to prophesy. This Messer Bellarion will not -again be brought to trial. The means will be afforded him of breaking -prison.' - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -EVASION - - -Bellarion was returned to the common gaol, which was perched high upon -the city's red wall, to herd once more with the vile pariahs there -incarcerated. But not for long. Within an hour came an order for his -removal to a diminutive stone chamber whose barred, unglazed window -looked out upon a fertile green plain through which the broad, silvery -ribbon of the river Po coiled its way towards Lombardy. - -Thither a little later in the afternoon came the Marquis Theodore to -visit him, in quest of the true facts. Bellarion lied to him as fluently -as he had lied earlier to the Podestà. But no longer with the same -falsehoods. - -His tale now went very near the truth. He had come under the suspicion -of the conspirators last night as a result of his visit to court. -Explanations had been demanded, and he had afforded them, as he exactly -stated. But conscience making cowards of the conspirators, they bound -him and locked him in a room until from Cigliano they should have -confirmation of his tale. Count Spigno, fearing that his life might be -in danger, came in the night to set him free. - -'Which leads me to suspect,' said Bellarion, 'that Count Spigno, too, -was an agent of your potency's. No matter. I keep to the events.' - -The conspirators, he continued, were more watchful than Spigno -suspected. They came upon the twain just as Bellarion's bonds had been -cut, and Spigno had, fortunately, thrust a dagger into his hand. They -fell upon Spigno, and one of them--the confusion at the moment did not -permit him to say which--stabbed the unfortunate count. Bellarion would -have shared his fate but that he hacked right and left with fist and -dagger, wounding Barbaresco and certainly one other, possibly two -others. Thus he broke through them, flung down the stairs, locked -himself in the room on the mezzanine, and climbed out of the window into -the arms of the watch. - -'If your highness had not desired me to go to court, this would not have -happened. But at least the conspirators are fled and the conspiracy is -stifled in panic. Your highness is now safe.' - -'Safe!' His highness laughed hard and cruelly. There was now in his mien -none of that benignity which Montferrat was wont to admire in it. The -pale blue eyes were hard as steel, a furrow at the base of his aquiline -nose rendered sinister and predatory the whole expression of his -countenance. - -'Your blundering has destroyed the evidence by which I I might have made -myself safe.' - -'My blundering! Here's justice! Besides, if I were to give the evidence -I withheld from the Podestà, if I were to give a true account of what -happened at Barbaresco's ...' - -'If you did that!' The Regent interrupted angrily. 'How would it look, -do you suppose? A vagrant rogue, the associate of a bandit was closeted -yesterday with me, and so far received my countenance that he was bidden -to court. It would disclose a plot, indeed. It would be said that I -plotted to fashion evidence against my nephew. Do you think that I have -no enemies here in Casale and elsewhere in Montferrat besides Barbaresco -and his plotters? If Spigno had lived, it would have been different, or -even if we had Barbaresco and the others and could now wring the truth -from them under torment. But Spigno is dead and the others gone.' - -Bellarion deemed him bewildered by his own excessive subtleties. - -'Does Barbaresco's flight give no colour to my tale?' he asked quietly. - -'Only until some other tale is told, as told it would be. Then what of -the word of a rascal like yourself? And what of me who depend upon the -word of so pitiful a knave?' - -'Your highness starts at shadows.' Bellarion was almost contemptuous. -'In the end it may be necessary to tell my tale if I am to save my -neck.' - -The Regent's look and tone made Bellarion feel cold. - -'Your neck? Why, what does your neck matter?' - -'Something to me, however little to your highness.' - -The Regent sneered, and the hard eyes grew harder still. 'You become -inconvenient, my friend.' - -Bellarion perceived it. The Regent feared lest investigation should -reveal that he had actually fostered the conspiracy for purposes of his -own, using first Count Spigno and then Bellarion as his agents. - -'Aye, you become inconvenient,' he repeated. 'Duke Gian Galeazzo would -never have boggled over dealing with you. He would have wrung this -precious neck by which you lay such store. Do you thank God that I am -not Gian Galeazzo.' - -He took the cloak from his left arm. From within its folds he let fall -at Bellarion's feet a coil of rope; from his breast he drew two stout -files which he placed upon Bellarion's stool. - -'If you remove one of those bars, that should give you passage. Attach -the rope to another, and descend by it at dusk. When you touch ground, -you will be outside the walls. Go your ways and never cross the -frontiers of Montferrat again. If you do, my friend, I promise you that -you shall be hanged out of hand for having broken prison.' - -'I should deserve it,' said Bellarion. 'Your highness need have no -anxiety.' - -'Anxiety, you dog!' The Regent measured him with that cold glance a -moment, then swung on his heel and left him. - -Next morning, when it was learnt that the prisoner had escaped, wild and -varied were the speculations in Casale to explain it, and stern, -searching, and fruitless the inquiry conducted by the governor of the -prison. None was known to have visited Bellarion save only the Marquis -Theodore, and only one person was so mad as to suppose that the Regent -had made possible the evasion. - -'You see,' said the Princess Valeria to her faithful Dionara. 'Has my -prophecy been fulfilled? Was I not right in my reading of this sordid -page?' But in her dark eyes there was none of the exultation that -verified conjecture so often brings. - -And at about the same time, Bellarion, having found a fisherman to put -him across the Po beyond Frassinetto, was trudging mechanically along, -safe now in the territory of Milan. But his thoughts went back to -Montferrat and the Princess Valeria. - -'In her eyes I am a rogue, a spy, a trickster, and perhaps worse, which -matters nothing, for in her eyes I never could have been anything that -signifies. Nor does it really matter that she should know why Spigno -died. Let her think what she will. I have made her and her brother safe -for the present.' - -That night he lay at an inn at Candia, and reflected that he lay there -at the Princess Valeria's charges, for he still possessed three of the -five ducats she had given him for his needs. - -'Some day,' he said, 'I shall repay that loan.' - -Next morning he was up betimes to resume at last in earnest his sorely -interrupted journey to Pavia. But he found that the Muses no longer -beckoned him as alluringly as hitherto. He had in the last few days -tasted stronger waters than those of Castalia's limpid spring. He had -also made the discovery that in fundamental matters all his past -learning had but served to lead him astray. He questioned now his heresy -on the score of sin. It was possible that, after all, the theologians -might be right. Whether sin and evil were convertible terms he could not -be sure. But not only was he quite sure that there was no lack of evil -in the world; he actually began to wonder if evil were not the positive -force that fashions the destinies of men, whilst good is but a form of -resistance which, however strong, remains passive, or else, when active, -commonly operates through evil that it may ultimately prevail. - -So much for his syllogism which had seemed irrefragable. It had fallen -to dust at the first touch of worldly experience. Yet, for all his -apprehension of the world's wickedness it was with a sigh of regret that -he turned his back upon it. The school of living, striving men called -him now with a voice far stronger than that of Pavia and the learned -Chrysolaras, and reminded him that he was pledged to a service which he -could not yet consider fully rendered. - - - - -BOOK II - - - - -CHAPTER I - -THE MIRACLE OF THE DOGS - - -Bellarion took his way through the low-lying and insalubrious marshlands -about Mortara where the rice-fields flourished as they had flourished -almost ever since the grain was first introduced from China some three -hundred years before. It touched his imagination to know himself -treading the soil of the great State of Milan, a state which Gian -Galeazzo Visconti had raised to such heights of fame and power. - -From the peace which Gian Galeazzo had enforced at home, as much as from -his conquests abroad, there had ensued a prosperity such as Milan had -never known before. Her industries throve apace. Her weavers of silk and -wool sent their products to Venice, to France, to Flanders, and to -England; the work of her armourers was sought by all Europe; great was -the trade driven with France in horses and fat Lombardy cattle. Thus the -wealth of the civilised world was drawn to Milan, and such was the -development there of banking that soon there was scarcely an important -city in Europe that had not its Lombard Street, just as in every city of -Europe the gold coins of Gian Galeazzo, bearing his snake device, -circulated freely, coming to be known as ducats in honour of this first -Duke of Milan. - -His laws, if tinctured by the cruelty of an age which held human lives -cheap, were nevertheless wise and justly administered; and he knew how -to levy taxes that should enrich himself without impoverishing his -subjects, perceiving with an intuition altogether beyond his age that -excessive taxation serves but to dry up the sources of a prince's -treasury. His wealth he spent with a staggering profusion, creating -about himself an environment of beauty, of art, and of culture which -overwhelmed the rude French and ruder English of his day with the sense -of their own comparative barbarism. He spent it also in enlisting into -his service the first soldiers of his time; and by reducing a score of -petty tyrannies and some that were of consequence, the coils of the -viper came to extend from the Alps to the Abruzzi. So wide, indeed, were -his dominions become that they embraced the greater part of Northern -Italy, and justified their elevation to the status of a kingdom and -himself to the assumption of the royal crown. - -In the Castle of Melegnano, where he had shut himself up to avoid the -plague that was crawling over the face of Italy, the regalia was already -prepared when this great prince, whom no human enemy had yet been able -to approach, was laid low by the invincible onslaught of that foul -disease. - -Because at the time of their great father's death Gian Maria was -thirteen and Filippo Maria twelve years of age, they remained, as Gian -Galeazzo's will provided against such a contingency, under the tutelage -of a council of regency composed of the condottieri and the Duchess -Catherine. - -Dissensions marked the beginnings of that council's rule, and -dissensions at a time when closest union was demanded. For in the death -of the redoubtable Gian Galeazzo the many enemies he had made for Milan -perceived their opportunity, whilst Gian Galeazzo's great captains, -disgusted with the vacillations of the degenerate Gian Maria, who was -the creature now of this party, now of that, furthered the -disintegration of his inheritance by wrenching away portions of it to -make independent states for themselves. Five years of misrule had -dissipated all that Gian Galeazzo had so laboriously built, and of all -the great soldiers who had helped him to build, the only one who -remained loyal--sharing with the bastard Gabriello the governorship of -the duchy--was that Facino Cane, Count of Biandrate, whom Bellarion had -in his need adopted for his father. - -Bellarion lay at Vigevano on the second night from Casale, and on the -morrow found a boatman to put him across the broad waters of the Ticino, -then took the road to Abbiategrasso, where the Lords of Milan possessed -a hunting-seat. - -He sang as he tramped; not from any joyousness of heart, but to dispel -the loneliness that increased upon him with every step that took him -from Casale towards this great city of Milan, this Rome of the North, -which it was his intention to view on his way to Pavia. - -Beyond Abbiategrasso, finding that he was growing footsore on the hard -and dusty road, he forsook it for the meadows, where fat cattle, the -like of which for bulk he had never seen, were contentedly grazing. -Early in the afternoon by one of the many watercourses that here -intersected the ground, he sat munching the bread and cheese which he -had stuffed into his scrip before leaving Abbiategrasso. - -From the wood crowning the slight eminence beyond the stream came -presently a confused sound of voices human and canine, a cracking of -whips and other vaguer noises. Suddenly the figure of a man all in brown -broke from the little belt of oaks and came racing down the green slope -towards the water. He was bareheaded, and a mane of black hair streamed -behind him as he ran. - -He was more than midway across that open space between wood and water -when his pursuers came in sight; not human pursuers, but three great -dogs, three bloodhounds, bounding silently after him. - -And then from the wood emerged at last a numerous mounted company led by -one who seemed little more than a boy, very richly dressed in -scarlet-and-silver, whose harsh and strident voice urged on the dogs. Of -those who followed, and half perhaps were gay and richly clad like -himself, the rest were grooms in leather, and two of them as they rode -held each in leash six straining, yelping hounds. Immediately behind the -youth who led rode a powerfully built fellow, black-bearded and -black-browed, on a big horse, wielding a whip with a long lash, who -seemed neither groom nor courtier and yet something of both. He, too, -was shouting, and cracking that long whip of his to urge the dogs to -bring down the human quarry before it could reach the water. - -But terror lent wings to the heels of the hunted man. He gained the edge -of the deep, sluggish stream a dozen yards ahead of the hounds, and -without pause or backward glance leapt wide, and struck the water -cleanly, head foremost. Through it he clove, swimming desperately and -strongly, using in the effort the last remnants of his strength. After -him came the dogs, taking the water almost together. - -Bellarion, in horror and pity, ran to the spot where the swimmer must -land, and proffered a hand to him as he reached the bank. The fugitive -clutched it and was drawn vigorously upwards. - -'May God reward you, sir!' he gasped, and again, in a voice of -extraordinary fervour, considering how little really had been -accomplished: 'May God reward you!' Then he dropped on hands and knees, -panting, exhausted, just as the foremost of the dogs came clambering up -the slippery clay of the bank to receive in its throat the dagger with -which Bellarion awaited it. - -A shout of rage from across the water did not deter him from slitting -the throat of the second dog that landed, and he had hurled the body of -it after the first before that cavalcade brought up on the far side, -vociferous and angry. - -The third dog, however, a great black-and-yellow hound, had climbed the -bank whilst Bellarion was engaged with the second. With a deep-throated -growl it was upon him, in a leap which bore him backwards and stretched -him supine under the brute's weight. Instinctively Bellarion flung his -left arm across his throat to shield it from those terrible fangs, -whilst with his right he stabbed upwards into the beast's vitals. There -was a howl of pain, and the dog shrank together a little, suspending its -attack. Bellarion stabbed again, and this time his dagger found the -beast's heart. It sank down upon him limp and quivering, and the warm, -gushing blood soaked him almost from head to foot. He heaved aside the -carcass, which was almost as heavy as a man's, and got slowly to his -feet, wondering uneasily what might be the sequel. - -The young man in red-and-silver was blaspheming horribly. He paused to -scream an order. - -'Loose the pack on them! Loose the pack, Squarcia!' - -But the big man addressed, on his own responsibility, had already -decided on action of another sort. From his saddlebow he unslung an -arbalest, which was ready at the stretch, fitted a bolt, and levelled it -at Bellarion. And never was Bellarion nearer death. It was the youth he -had compassionated who now saved him, and this without intending it. - -Having recovered something of his breath, and urged on by the terror of -those dread pursuers, he staggered to his feet, and without so much as a -backward glance was moving off to resume his flight. The movement caught -the eye of the black-browed giant Squarcia, just as he was about to -loose his shaft. He swung his arbalest to the fugitive, and, as the cord -hummed, the young man span round and dropped with the bolt in his brain. - -Before Squarcia had removed the stock from his shoulder, to wind the -weapon for the second shot he intended, he was slashed across the face -by the whip of young red-and-silver. - -'By the Bones of God! Who bade you shoot, brute beast? My order was to -loose the pack. Will you baulk me of sport, you son of a dog? Did I -track him so far to have him end like that?' He broke into obscenest -blasphemy, from which might be extracted an order to the grooms to -unleash the beasts they held. - -But Squarcia, undaunted either by blasphemy or whiplash, interposed. - -'Will your highness have that knave kill some more of your dogs before -they pull him down? He's armed, and the dogs are at his mercy as they -climb the bank.' - -'He killed my dogs, and dog shall avenge dog upon him, the beast!' - -From that pathetic heap at his feet Bellarion realised the fate that -must overtake him if he attempted flight. Fear in him was blent with -loathing and horror of these monsters who hunted men like stags. -Whatever the crime of the poor wretch so ruthlessly slain under his -eyes, it could not justify the infamy of making him the object of such a -chase. - -One of the grooms spoke to Squarcia, and Squarcia turned to his young -master. - -'Checco says there is a ford at the turn yonder, Lord Duke.' - -The form of address penetrated the absorption of Bellarion's feelings. A -duke, this raging, blaspheming boy, whose language was the language of -stables and brothels! What duke, then, but Duke of Milan? And Bellarion -remembered tales he had lately heard of the revolting cruelty of this -twenty-year-old son of the great Gian Galeazzo. - -Four grooms were spurring away towards the ford, and across the stream -came the thunder of Squarcia's voice, as the great ruffian again -levelled his arbalest. - -'Move a step from there, my cockerel, and you'll stand before your -Maker.' - -Through the ford the horses splashed, the waters, shrunken by a -protracted drought, scarce coming above their fetlocks. And Bellarion, -waiting, bethought him that, after all, the real ruler of Milan was -Facino Cane, and took the daring resolve once more to use that name as a -scapulary. - -When the grooms reached him, they found themselves intrepidly confronted -by one who proclaimed himself Facino's son, and bade them sternly have a -care how they dealt with him. But if he had proclaimed himself son of -the Pope of Rome it would not have moved these brutish oafs, who knew no -orders but Squarcia's and whose intelligence was no higher than that of -the dogs they tended. With a thong of leather they attached his right -wrist to a stirrup, and compelled him, raging inwardly, to trot with -them. He neither struggled nor protested, realising the futility of both -at present. At one part of the ford the water rose to his thighs, whilst -the splashing of the horses about him added to his discomfort. But -though soaked in blood and water, he still carried himself proudly when -he came to stand before the young Duke. - -Bellarion beheld a man of revolting aspect. His face was almost -embryonic, the face of a man prematurely born whose features in growing -had preserved their half-modelled shape. A bridgeless nose broad as a -negro's splayed across his fresh-complexioned face, immediately above -the enormous purple lips of his shapeless mouth. Round, pale-coloured -eyes bulged on the very surface of his face; his brow was sloping and -shallow and his chin receded. From his handsome father he inherited only -the red-gold hair that had distinguished Gian Galeazzo. - -Bellarion stared at him, fascinated by that unsurpassable ugliness, and, -meeting the stare, a frown descended between the thick sandy eyebrows. - -'Here's an insolent rogue! Do you know who I am?' - -'I am supposing you to be the Duke of Milan,' said Bellarion, in a tone -that was dangerously near contempt. - -'Ah! You are supposing it? You shall have assurance of it before we are -done with each other. Did you know it when you slew my dogs?' - -'Less than ever when I perceived that you hunted with them -deliberately.' - -'Why so?' - -'Could I suspect that a prince should so hunt a human quarry?' - -'Why, you bold dog ...' - -'Your highness knows my name!' - -'Your name, oaf? What name?' - -'What your highness called me. Cane.' Thus again, with more -effectiveness than truth, did he introduce the identity that had served -so well before. 'I am Bellarion Cane, Facino Cane's son.' - -It was an announcement that produced a stir in that odd company. - -A handsome, vigorous young man in mulberry velvet, who carried a hooded -falcon perched on his left wrist, pushed forward on his tall black horse -to survey this blood-smeared ragamuffin with fresh interest. - -The Duke turned to him. - -'You hear what he says, Francesco?' - -'Aye, but I never heard that Facino had a son.' - -'Oh, some by-blow, maybe. No matter.' A deepening malice entered his -evil countenance, the mere fact of Bellarion's parentage would give an -added zest to his maltreatment. For deep down in his dark soul Gian -Maria Visconti bore no love to the great soldier who dominated him. -'We'll rid Facino of the inconvenient incubus. Fall back there, you -others. Line the bank.' - -The company spread itself in a long file along the water's edge, like -beaters, to hinder the quarry's escape in that direction. - -Grim fear took hold of Bellarion. He had shot his bolt, and it had -missed its mark. He was defenceless and helpless in the hands of this -monster and his bestial crew. At a command from the Duke they loosed the -thong that bound him to the stirrup, and he found himself suddenly alone -and free, with more than a glimmering in his mind of the ghastly fate -intended for him. - -'Now, rogue,' the Duke shrilled at him, 'let us see you run.' He swung -to Squarcia. 'Two dogs,' he commanded. - -Squarcia detached two hounds from a pack of six which a groom held in -leash. Holding each by its collar, he went down on one knee between -them, awaiting the Duke's command for their release. - -Bellarion meanwhile had not moved. In fascinated horror he watched these -preparations, almost incredulous of their obvious purport. He was not to -know that the love of the chase which had led Bernabó Visconti to frame -game laws of incredible barbarity, had been transmitted to his grandson -in a form that was loathsomely depraved. The deer and the wild boar -which had satisfied the hunting instincts of the terrible Bernabó were -inadequate for the horrible lusts of Gian Maria; the sport their agonies -yielded could not compare in his eyes with the sport to be drawn from -the chase of human quarries, to which his bloodhounds were trained by -being fed on human flesh. - -'You are wasting time,' the Duke admonished him. 'In a moment I shall -loose the dogs. Be off while you may, and if you are fleet enough, your -heels may save your throat.' But he laughed slobberingly over the words, -which were merely intended to befool the wretched victim with a false -hope that should stimulate him to afford amusement. - -Bellarion, white-faced, with such a terror in his soul as he had never -known and should never know again in whatever guise he should find death -confronting him, turned at last, and broke wildly, instinctively, into a -run towards the wood. The Duke's bestial laughter went after him, before -he had covered twenty yards and before the dogs had been loosed. His -manhood, his human dignity, rose in revolt, conquering momentarily even -his blind terror. He checked and swung round. Not another yard would he -run to give sport to that pink-and-silver monster. - -The Duke, seeing himself thus in danger of being cheated, swore at him -foully. - -'He'll run fast enough, highness, when I loose the dogs,' growled -Squarcia. - -'Let go, then.' - -As Bellarion stood there, the breeze ruffling the hair about his neck, -the hounds bounded forward. His senses swam, a physical nausea possessed -him. Yet, through swooning reason, he resolved to offer no resistance so -that this horror might be the sooner ended. They would leap for his -throat, he knew, and so that he let them have their way, it would -speedily be done. - -He closed his eyes. He groaned. 'Jesus!' And then his lips began to -shape a prayer, the first that occurred to him, mechanically almost: -'_In manus tuas, Domine_ ...' - -The dogs had reached him. But there was no impact. The eager, furious -leaps with which they started had fallen to a sedate and hesitating -approach. They sniffed the air, and, at close quarters now, they -crouched down, nosing him, their bellies trailing in the grass, their -heavy tails thumping the ground, in an attitude of fawning submission. - -There were cries of amazement from the ducal party. Amazement filled the -soul of Bellarion as he looked down upon those submissive dogs, and he -sought to read the riddle of their behaviour, thought, indeed, of divine -intervention, such as that by which the saints of God had at times been -spared from the inhumanities of men. - -And this, too, was the thought of more than one of the spectators. It -was the thought of the brutal Squarcia, who, rising from the -half-kneeling attitude in which he had remained, now crossed himself -mechanically. - -'Miracle!' he cried in a voice that was shaken by supernatural fears. - -But the Duke, looking on with a scowl on his shallow brow, raged forth -at that. The Visconti may never have feared man; but most of them had -feared God. Gian Maria was not even of these. - -'We'll test this miracle, by God!' he cried. 'Loose me two more dogs, -you fool.' - -'Highness ...' Squarcia was beginning a protest. - -'Loose two more dogs, or I'll perform a miracle on you.' - -Squarcia's fear of the Duke was even greater than his fear of the -supernatural. With fumbling, trembling fingers he did as he was bidden. -Two more dogs were launched against Bellarion, incited by the Duke -himself with his strident voice and a cut of his whip across their -haunches. - -But they behaved even as the first had behaved, to the increasing awe of -the beholders, but no longer to Bellarion's awe or mystification. His -wits recovered from their palsy, and found a physical explanation for -the sudden docility of those ferocious beasts. Right or wrong, his -conclusions satisfied him, and it was without dread that he heard the -Duke raging anew. So long as they sent only dogs against him, he had no -cause for fear. - -'Loose Messalina,' the Duke was screaming in a frenzy now that thickened -his articulation and brought froth and bubbles to his purple lips. - -Squarcia was protesting, as were, more moderately, some of the members -of his retinue. The handsome young man with the falcon opined that here -might be witchcraft, and admonished his highness to use caution. - -'Loose Messalina!' his highness repeated, more furiously insistent. - -'On your highness's head the consequences!' cried Squarcia, as he -released that ferocious bitch, the fiercest of all the pack. - -But whilst she came loping towards him, Bellarion, grown audacious in -his continued immunity, was patting the heads and flanks of the dogs -already about him and speaking to them coaxingly, in response to which -the Duke beheld them leaping and barking in friendliness about him. When -presently the terrible Messalina was seen to behave in the same fashion, -the excitement in the Duke's following shed its last vestige of -restraint. Opinions were divided between those who cried 'Miracle!' with -the impious yet credulous Squarcia, and those who cried 'Witchcraft!' -with Messer Francesco Lonate, the gentleman of the falcon. - -In the Duke's own mind some fear began to stir. Whether of God or devil, -only supernatural intervention could explain this portent. - -He spurred forward, his followers moving with him, and Bellarion, as he -looked upon the awe-stricken countenances of that ducal company, was -moved to laughter. Reaction from his palsy of terror had come in a -mental exaltation, like the glow that follows upon immersion in cold -water. He was contemptuous of these fellows, and particularly of -Squarcia and his grooms who, whilst presumably learned in the ways of -dogs, were yet incapable of any surmise by which this miracle might be -naturally explained. Mockery crept into that laugh of his, a laugh that -brought the scowl still lower upon the countenance of the Duke. - -'What spells do you weave, rascal? By what artifice do you do this?' - -'Spells?' Bellarion stood boldly before him. He chose to be mysterious, -to feed their superstition. He answered with a proverb that made play -upon the name he had assumed. 'Did I not tell you that I am Cane? Dog -will not eat dog. That is all the magic you have here.' - -'An evasion,' said Lonate, like one who thinks aloud. - -The Duke flashed him a sidelong glance of irritation. 'Do I need to be -told?' Then to Bellarion: 'This is a trick, rogue. God's Blood! I am not -to be fooled. What have you done to my dogs?' - -'Deserved their love,' said Bellarion, waving a hand to the great beasts -that still gambolled about him. - -'Aye, aye, but how?' - -'How? Does any one know how love is deserved of man or beast? Loose the -rest of your pack. There's not a dog in it will do more than lick my -hands. Dogs,' he added, again with a hint of mysteries, 'have -perceptions oft denied to men.' - -'Perceptions, eh? But what do they perceive?' - -And Bellarion yielding to his singular exaltation laughed again as he -answered: 'Ah! Who shall say?' - -The Duke empurpled. 'Do you mock me, filth?' - -Lonate, who was afraid of wizardry, laid a hand upon his arm. But the -Duke shook off that admonitory grasp. 'You shall yield me your secret. -You shall so, by the Host!' He turned to the gaping Squarcia. 'Call off -the dogs, and make the knave fast. Fetch him along.' - -On that the Duke rode off with his gentlemen, leaving the grooms to -carry out his orders. They stood off reluctantly, despite Squarcia's -commands, so that in the end for all his repugnance the kennel-master -was constrained, himself, to take the task in hand. He whistled the dogs -to heel, and left one of his knaves to leash them again. Then he -approached Bellarion almost timidly. - -'You heard the orders of his highness,' he said in the resigned voice of -one who does a thing because he must. - -Bellarion proffered his wrists in silence. The Duke and his following -had almost reached the wood, and were out of earshot. - -'It is the Duke who does this,' that black-browed scoundrel excused -himself. 'I am but the instrument of the Duke.' And cringing a little he -proceeded to do the pinioning, but lightly so that the thong should not -hurt the prisoner, a tenderness exercised probably for the first time in -his career as the villainous servant of a villainous master. His hands -trembled at the task, which again was a thing that had never happened -yet. The truth is that Squarcia was inspired by another fear as great as -his dread of the supernatural. On both counts he desired to stand well -with this young man. - -He cast a glance over his shoulder to satisfy himself that the grooms -were out of earshot. - -'Be sure,' he muttered in his dense black beard, 'that his excellency -the Count of Biandrate shall know of your presence within an hour of our -arrival in Milan.' - - - - -CHAPTER II - -FACINO CANE - - -On the ground that they had far to travel, but in reality to spare this -unwelcome prisoner, Bellarion was mounted on the crupper of Squarcia's -great horse, his lightly pinioned wrists permitting him to hang on by -the kennelmaster's belt. - -Thus he made his first entrance into the fair city of Milan as dusk was -descending. Some impression of the size and strength of it Bellarion -gathered when, a couple of miles away, they made a momentary halt on a -slight eminence in the plain. And though instruction had prepared him -for an imposing spectacle, it had not prepared for what he actually -beheld. He gazed in wonder on the great spread of those massive red -walls reflected in a broad navigable moat, which was a continuation of -the Ticinello, and, soaring above these, the spires of a half-dozen -churches, among which he was able from what he had read to identify the -slender belfry of Sant' Eustorgio and the octagonal brick and marble -tower, surmounted by its headless gilded angel, belonging to the church -of Saint Gotthard, built in honour of the sainted protector of the gouty -by the gout-ridden Azzo Visconti a hundred years ago. - -They entered the city by the Porta Nuova, a vast gateway, some of whose -stonework went back to Roman times, having survived Barbarossa's -vindictive demolition nearly three centuries ago. Over the drawbridge -and through the great archway they came upon a guard-house that was in -itself a fortress, before whose portals lounged a group of -brawny-bearded mercenaries, who talked loudly amongst themselves in the -guttural German of the Cantons. Then along Borgo Nuovo, a long street in -which palace stood shoulder to shoulder with hovel, and which, though -really narrow by comparison with other streets of Milan, appeared -generously broad to Bellarion. The people moving in this thoroughfare -were as oddly assorted as the dwellings that flanked it. Sedately -well-nourished, opulent men of the merchant class, glittering nobles -attended by armed lackeys with blazons on their breasts, some mounted, -but more on foot, were mingled here with aproned artisans and with -gaunt, ragged wretches of both sexes whose aspect bespoke want and -hunger. For there was little of the old prosperity left in Milan under -the rule of Gian Maria. - -Noble and simple alike stood still to bare and incline their heads as -the Duke rode past. But Bellarion, who was sharply using his eyes, -perceived few faces upon which he did not catch a reflection, however -fleeting, of hatred or of dread. - -From this long street they emerged at length upon a great open space -that was fringed with elms, on the northern side of which Bellarion -beheld, amid a titanic entanglement of poles and scaffolding, a white -architectural mass that was vast as a city in itself. He knew it at a -glance for the great cathedral that was to be the wonder of the world. -It was built on the site of the old basilica of Saint Ambrose, dedicated -to Mariæ Nascenti: a votive offering to the Virgin Mother for the -removal of that curse upon the motherhood of Milan, as a result of which -the women bore no male children, or, if they bore them, could not bring -them forth alive. Gian Galeazzo had imagined his first wife, the sterile -Isabella of Valois, to lie under the curse. Bellarion wondered what Gian -Galeazzo thought of the answer to that vast prayer in marble when his -second wife Caterina brought forth Gian Maria. There are, Bellarion -reflected, worse afflictions than sterility. - -Gian Galeazzo had perished before his stupendous conception could be -brought to full fruition, and under his degenerate son the work was -languishing, and stood almost suspended, a monument as much to the -latter's misrule as to his father's colossal ambition and indomitable -will. - -They crossed the great square, which to Bellarion, learned in the -history of the place, was holy ground. Here in the now vanished basilica -the great Saint Augustine had been baptised. Here Saint Ambrose, that -Roman prefect upon whom the episcopate had been almost forced, had -entrenched himself in his great struggle with the Empress Justina, which -marked the beginnings of that strife between Church and Empire, still -kept alive by Guelph and Ghibelline after the lapse of a thousand years. - -Flanking the rising cathedral stood the Old Broletto, half palace, half -stronghold, which from the days of Matteo Visconti had been the -residence of the Lords of Milan. - -They rode under the portcullis into the great courtyard of the Arrengo, -which derived a claustral aspect from its surrounding porticoes, and -passed into the inner quadrangle known as the Court of Saint Gotthard. -Here the company dismounted, and to Lonate, who held his stirrup for -him, Gian Maria issued his orders concerning the prisoner before -entering the palace. - -This bewitcher of dogs, he announced, should make entertainment for him -after supper. - -Bellarion was conducted to a stone cell underground, which was supplied -with air and as much light as would make a twilight of high noon by a -grating set high in the massive door. It was very cold and pervaded by a -moist, unpleasant, fungoid odour. The darkness and chill of the place -struck through him gradually to his soul. He was very hungry, too, which -did not help his courage, for he had eaten nothing since midday, and not -so much as a crust of bread did his gaolers have the charity to offer -him. - -At long length--at the end of two hours or more--the Duke's magnificence -came to visit him in person. He was attended by Messer Lonate and four -men in leather jerkins, one of whom was Squarcia. His highness sought to -make up in gaudiness of raiment for what he lacked of natural -endowments. He wore a trailing, high-necked velvet houppelande, one half -of which was white, the other red, caught about his waist by a -long-tongued belt of fine gold mail that was studded with great rubies. -From waist to ground the long gown fell open as he moved showing his -legs which were cased, the one in white, the other in scarlet. They were -the colours of his house, colours from which he rarely departed in his -wear, following in this the example set him by his illustrious sire. On -his head he wore a bulging scarlet cap tufted at the side into a jagged, -upright mass like a cock's comb. - -His goggling eyes measured the prisoner with a glance which almost sent -a shudder through Bellarion. - -'Well, rogue? Will you talk now? Will you confess what was the magic -that you used?' - -'Lord Duke, I used no magic.' - -The Duke smiled. 'You need a lenten penance to bring you to a proper -frame of mind. Have you never heard of the Lent of my invention? It -lasts for forty days, and is a little more severe than mere fasting. But -very salutary with obstinate or offending rogues, and it teaches them -such a contempt of life that in the end they are usually glad to die. -We'll make a beginning with you now. I dare make oath you'll be as sorry -that you killed my dogs as that my dogs did not kill you.' He turned to -Squarcia. 'Bring him along,' he commanded, and stalked stiffly out. - -They dragged Bellarion into a larger stone chamber that was as anteroom -to the cell. Here he now beheld a long wooden engine, standing high as a -table, and composed of two oblong wooden frames, one enclosed within the -other and connected by colossal wooden screws. Cords trailed from the -inner frame. - -The Duke growled an order. - -'Lay the rogue stark.' - -Without waiting to untruss his points, two of the grooms ripped away his -tunic, so that in a moment he was naked to the waist. Squarcia stood -aloof, seeking to dissemble his superstitious awe, and expecting -calamity or intervention at any moment. - -The intervention came. Not only was it of a natural order, but it was -precisely the intervention Squarcia should have been expecting, since it -resulted from the message he had secretly carried. - -The heavy studded door at the top of a flight of three stone steps swung -slowly open behind the Duke, and a man of commanding aspect paused on -the threshold. Although close upon fifty years of age, his moderately -tall and vigorous, shapely frame, his tanned, shaven face, squarely cut -with prominent bone structures, his lively, dark eyes, and his thick, -fulvid hair, gave him the appearance of no more than forty. A gown of -mulberry velvet edged with brown fur was loosely worn over a dress of -great richness, a figured tunic of deep purple and gold with hose of the -colour of wine. - -A moment he stood at gaze, then spoke, in a pleasant, resonant voice, -its tone faintly sardonic. - -'Upon what beastliness is your highness now engaged?' - -The Duke span round; the grooms stood arrested in their labours. The -gentleman came sedately down the steps. 'Who bade you hither?' the Duke -raged at him. - -'The voice of duty. First there is my duty as your governor, to see -that ...' - -'My governor!' Sheer fury rang in the echoing words. 'My governor! You -do not govern me, my lord, though you may govern Milan. And you govern -that at my pleasure, you'll remember. I am the master here. It is I who -am Duke. You'll be wise not to forget it.' - -'Perhaps I am not wise. Who shall say what is wisdom?' The tone -continued level, easy, faintly mocking. Here was a man very sure of -himself. Too sure of himself to trouble to engage in argument. 'But -there is another duty whose voice I have obeyed. Parental duty. For they -tell me that this prisoner with whom you are proposing to be merry after -your fashion claims to be my son.' - -'They tell you? Who told you?' There was a threat to that unknown person -in the inquiry. - -'Can I remember? A court is a place of gossip. When men and women -discover a piece of unusual knowledge they must be airing it. It doesn't -matter. What matters to me is whether you, too, had heard of this. Had -you?' The pleasant voice was suddenly hard; it was the voice of the -master, of the man who holds the whip. And it intimidated, for whilst -the young Duke stormed and blustered and swore, yet he did so in a -measure of defence. - -'By the bones of Saint Ambrose! Did you not hear that he slew my dogs? -Slew three of them, and bewitched the others.' - -'He must have bewitched you, Lord Duke, at the same time, since, -although you heard him claim to be my son, yet you venture to practise -upon him without so much as sending me word.' - -'Is it not my right? Am I not lord of life and death in my dominions?' - -The dark eyes flashed in that square, shaven face. 'You are ...' He -checked. He waved an imperious hand towards Squarcia Giramo. 'Go, you, -and your curs with you.' - -'They are here in attendance upon me,' the Duke reminded him. - -'But they are required no longer.' - -'God's Light! You grow daily more presumptuous, Facino.' - -'If you will dismiss them, you may think differently.' - -The Duke's prominent eyes engaged the other's stern glance, until, -beaten by it, he swung sullenly to his knaves: 'Away with you! Leave -us!' Thus he owned defeat. - -Facino waited until the men had gone, then quietly admonished the Duke. - -'You set too much store by your dogs. And the sport you make with them -is as dangerous as it is bestial. I have warned your highness before. -One of these fine days the dogs of Milan will turn upon you and tear out -your throat.' - -'The dogs of Milan? On me?' His highness almost choked. - -'On you, who account yourself lord of life and death. To be Duke of -Milan is not quite the same thing as to be God. You should remember it.' -Then he changed his tone. 'That man you were hunting to-day beyond -Abbiate was Francesco da Pusterla, I am told.' - -'And this rogue who calls himself your son attempted to rescue him, and -slew three of my best dogs....' - -'He was doing you good service, Lord Duke. It would have been better if -Pusterla had escaped. As long as you hunt poor miscreants, guilty of -theft or violence or of no worse crime than being needy and hungry, -retribution may move slowly against you. But when you set your dogs upon -the sons of a great house, you walk the edge of an abyss.' - -'Do I so? Do I so? Well, well, my good Facino, as long as a Pusterla -remains aboveground, so long shall my hounds be active. I don't forget -that a Pusterla was castellan of Monza when my mother died there. And -you, that hear so much gossip about the town and court, must have heard -what is openly said: that the scoundrel poisoned her.' - -Facino looked at him with such grim significance that the Duke's high -colour faded under the glance. His face grew ashen. 'By the Bones of -God!' he was beginning, when Facino interrupted. - -'This young man here was not to know your motives. Indeed, he did not -know you were the leader of that vile hunt. All that he saw was a -fellow-creature inhumanly pursued by dogs. None would call me a gentle, -humane man. But I give you my word, Lord Duke, that he did what in his -place I hope I should have had the courage to do, myself. I honour him -for it. Apart from that, he told you that his name was Cane. It is a -name that deserves some respect in Milan, even from the Duke.' His voice -grew cold and hard as steel. 'Hunt the Pusterla all you please, -magnificent, and at your own peril. But do not hunt the Cane without -first giving me warning of the intention.' - -He paused. The Duke, slow-witted ever, stood between shame and rage -before him, silent. Facino turned to Bellarion, his tone and manner -expressing contempt of his ducal master. 'Come, boy. His highness gives -you leave. Put on your tunic and come with me.' - -Bellarion had waited in a fascinated amazement that held a deal of fear, -based on the conviction that he escaped Scylla to be wrecked upon -Charybdis. For a long moment he gazed now into that indolently -good-humoured, faintly mocking countenance. Then, with mechanical -obedience, he took up the garment, which had been reduced almost to -rags, and followed the Count of Biandrate from that stone chamber. - -Sedately Facino went up the narrow staircase with no word for the young -man who followed in uneasy wonder and dread speculation of what was now -to follow. - -In a fine room that was hung with Flemish tapestries, and otherwise -furnished with a richness such as Bellarion had never yet beheld, -lighted by great candles in massive gilt candlesticks that stood upon -the ground, the masterful Facino dismissed a couple of waiting lackeys, -and turned at last to bestow a leisurely scrutiny upon his companion. - -'So you have the impudence to call yourself my son,' he said, between -question and assertion. 'It seems I have more family than I suspected. -But I felicitate you on your choice of a father. It remains for you to -tell me upon whom I conferred the honour of being your mother.' - -He threw himself into a chair, leaving Bellarion standing before him, a -sorry figure in his tattered red tunic pulled loosely about him, his -flesh showing in the gaps. - -'To be frank, my lord, in my anxiety to avoid a violent death I -overstated our relationship.' - -'You overstated it?' The heavy eyebrows were raised. The humour of the -countenance became more pronouncedly sardonic. 'Let me judge the extent -of this overstatement.' - -'I am your son by adoption only.' - -Down came the eyebrows in a frown, and all humour passed from the face. - -'Nay, now! That I know for a lie. I might have got me a son without -knowing it. That is always possible. I was young once, faith, and a -little careless of my kisses. But I could scarcely have adopted another -man's child without being aware of it.' - -And now Bellarion, judging his man, staked all upon the indolent -good-nature, the humorous outlook upon life which he thought to perceive -in Facino's face and voice. He answered him with a studied excess of -frankness. - -'The adoption, my lord, was mine; not yours.' And then, to temper the -impudence of that, he added: 'I adopted you, my lord, in my hour of -peril and of need, as we adopt a patron saint. My wits were at the end -of their resources. I knew not how else to avert the torture and death -to which wanton brutality exposed me, save by invoking a name in itself -sufficiently powerful to protect me.' - -There was a pause in which Facino considered him, half angrily, so that -Bellarion's heart sank and he came to fear that in his bold throw with -Fortune he had been defeated. Then Facino laughed outright, yet there -was an edge to his laugh that was not quite friendly. 'And so you -adopted me for your father. Why, sir, if every man could choose his -parents ...' He broke off. 'Who are you, rogue? What is your name?' - -'I am called Bellarion, my lord.' - -'Bellarion? A queer name that. And what's your story? Continue to be -frank with me, unless you would have me toss you back to the Duke for an -impostor.' - -At that Bellarion took heart, for the phrase implied that if he were -frank this great soldier would befriend him at least to the extent of -furthering his escape. And so Bellarion used an utter frankness. He told -his tale, which was in all respects the true tale which he had told -Lorenzaccio da Trino. - -It was, when all is said, an engaging story, and it caught the fancy of -the Lord Facino Cane, as Bellarion, closely watching him, perceived. - -'And in your need you chose to think that this rider who befriended you -was called Facino!' The condottiero smiled now, a little sardonically. -'It was certainly resourceful. But this business of the Duke's dogs? -Tell me what happened there.' - -Bellarion's tale had gone no farther than the point at which he had set -out from Cigliano on his journey to Pavia. Nor now, in answer to this -question, did he mention his adventure in Montferrat and the use he had -made there already of Facino's name, but came straight to the events of -that day in the meadows by Abbiategrasso. To this part of his narrative, -and particularly to that of Bellarion's immunity from the fierce dogs, -Facino listened in incredulity, although it agreed with the tale he had -already heard. - -'What patron did you adopt to protect you there?' he asked, between -seriousness and derision. 'Or did you use magic, as they say.' - -'I answered the Duke on that score with more literal truth than he -suspected when I told him that dog does not eat dog.' - -'How? You pretend that the mere name of Cane ...?' - -'Oh, no. I reeked, I stank of dog. The great hound I had ripped up when -it was upon me had left me in that condition, and the other hounds -scented nothing but dog in me. The explanation, my lord, lies between -that and miracle.' - -Facino slowly nodded. 'And you do not believe in miracles?' he asked. - -'Your lordship's patience with me is the first miracle I have -witnessed.' - -'It is the miracle you hoped for when you adopted me for your father?' - -'Nay, my lord. My hope was that you would never hear of the adoption.' - -Facino laughed outright. 'You're a frank rogue,' said he, and heaved -himself up. 'Yet it would have gone ill with you if I had not heard that -a son had suddenly been given to me.' To Bellarion's amazement the great -soldier came to set a hand upon his shoulder, the dark eyes, whose -expression could change so swiftly from humour to melancholy, looked -deeply into his own. 'Your attempt to save Pusterla's life without -counting the risk to yourself was a gallant thing, for which I honour -you, and for which you deserve well of me. And they are to make a monk -of you, you say?' - -'That is the Abbot's hope.' Bellarion had flushed a little under the -sudden, unexpected praise and the softening of the voice that bestowed -it. 'And it may follow,' he added, 'when I return from Pavia.' - -'The Abbot's hope? But is it your own?' - -'I begin to fear that it is not.' - -'By Saint Gotthard, you do not look a likely priest. But that is your -own affair.' The hand fell from his shoulder, Facino turned, and -sauntered away in the direction of the loggia, beyond which the night -glowed luminously blue as a sapphire. 'From me you shall have the -protection you invoked when you adopted me, and to-morrow, -well-accredited and equipped, you shall resume the road to Pavia and -your studies.' - -'You establish, my lord, my faith in miracles,' said Bellarion. - -Facino smiled as he beat his hands together. Lackeys in his -blue-and-white liveries appeared at once in answer to that summons. His -orders were that Bellarion should be washed and fed, whereafter they -would talk again. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE COUNTESS OF BIANDRATE - - -Facino Cane and Bellarion talked long together on the night of their -first meeting, and as a result the road to Pavia was not resumed upon -the morrow, nor yet upon the morrow's morrow. It was written that some -years were yet to pass before Bellarion should see Pavia, and then not -at all with the eyes of the student seeking a seat of learning. - -Facino believed that he discovered in the lad certain likenesses to -himself: a rather whimsical, philosophical outlook, a readiness of wit, -and an admirable command of his person such as was unusual amongst even -the most cultured quattrocentists. He discovered in him, too, a depth -and diversity of learning, which inspired respect in one whose own -education went little beyond the arts of reading and writing, but who -was of an intelligence to perceive the great realms that lie open to -conquest by the mind. He admired also the lad's long, clean-limbed grace -and his boldly handsome, vivid countenance. Had God given him a son, he -could not have desired him other than he found Bellarion. From such a -thought in this childless man--thrust upon him, perhaps, by the very -manner of Bellarion's advent--it was but a step to the desire to bind -the boy to himself by those ties of adoption which Bellarion had so -impudently claimed. That step Facino took with the impulsiveness and -assurance that were his chief characteristics. He took it on the third -day of Bellarion's coming, at the end of a frank and detailed narrative -by Bellarion of the events in Montferrat. He had for audience on that -occasion not only Facino, but Facino's young and languidly beautiful -countess. His tale moved them sometimes to laughter, sometimes to awe, -but always to admiration of Bellarion's shrewdness, resource, and -address. - -'A sly fox the Marquis Theodore,' Facino had commented. 'Subtlety curbs -ambition in him. Yet his ambition is such that one of these days it will -curb his subtlety, and then Messer Theodore may reap his deserts. I know -him well. Indeed, it was in his father's service that I learnt the trade -of arms. And that's a better trade for a man than priesthood.' - -Thus from the subject of Theodore he leapt abruptly to the subject of -Bellarion, and became direct at once. 'With those limbs and those wits -of yours, you should agree with that. Will you let them run to waste in -cloisters?' - -Bellarion sighed thoughtfully. He scented the inspiration of that -question, which fell so naturally into place in this dream in which for -three days he had been living. It was all so different, so contrary to -anything that he could have imagined at the hands of this man with whose -name he had made free, this man who daily bade him postpone the -resumption of his journey until the morrow. - -Softly now, in answer to that question, he quoted the abbot: '"_Pax -multa in cella, foris autem plurima bella_." And yet ... And yet is the -peace of the cloisters really better than the strife of the world? Is -there not as much service to be done in righting wrongs? Is not peace -stagnation? Are not activity and strife the means by which a man may -make his soul?' He sighed again. His mention of righting wrongs was no -vague expression, as it seemed, of an ideal. He had a particular wrong -very vividly in mind. - -Facino, watching him almost hungrily, was swift to argue. - -'Is not he who immures himself to save his soul akin to the steward who -buried his talents?' - -He developed the argument, and passed from it to talk of feats of arms, -of great causes rescued, of nations liberated, of fainting right upheld -and made triumphant. - -From broad principles his talk turned, as talk will, to details. He -described encounters and actions, broad tactical movements and shrewd -stratagems. And then to his amazement the subject was caught up, like a -ball that is tossed, by Bellarion; and Bellarion the student was -discoursing to him, the veteran of a score of campaigns and a hundred -battles, upon the great art of war. He was detailing, from Thucydides, -the action of the Thebans against Platæa, and condemning the foolish -risk taken by Eurymachus, showing how the disastrous result of that -operation should have been foreseen by a commander of any real military -sense. Next he was pointing the moral to be drawn from the Spartan -invasion of Attica which left the Peloponnesus uncovered to the attack -of the Athenians. From that instance of disastrous impetuosity he passed -to another of a different kind and of recent date in the battle of -Tagliacozzo, and, revealing a close acquaintance with Primatus and -Bouquet, he showed how a great army when it thrust too deeply into -hostile territory must do so always at the risk of being unable to -extricate itself in safety. Then from the broad field of strategy, he -ran on, aglow now with a subject of his predilection, to discourse upon -tactics, and chiefly to advocate and defend the more general use of -infantry, to enlarge upon the value of the hedgehog for defensive -purposes against cavalry, supporting his assertions by instancing the -battle of Sempach and other recent actions of the Swiss. - -It could not be expected that a great leader like Facino, who had -depended all his life upon the use of cavalry, should agree with such -views as these. But the knowledge displayed by this convent-reared -youngster, and the shrewd force and lucidity with which Bellarion, who -had never seen a pitched battle, argued upon matters that were regarded -as mysteries hidden from all but the initiates in the difficult science -of arms, amazed him so profoundly that he forgot to argue at all. - -Facino had learnt the trade of war by actual practice in a long and hard -apprenticeship. It had never even occurred to him that there was a -theory to be learnt in the quiet of the study, to be culled from the -records of past failure and achievement in the field. Nor now that this -was revealed to him was he disposed to attach to it any considerable -importance. He regarded the young man's disquisitions merely in the -light of interesting mental exercises. But at the same time he concluded -that one who showed such understanding and critical appreciation of -strategy and tactics should, given the other qualities by Facino -considered necessary, be quick to gather experience and learn the -complex military art. Now every man who truly loves the trade by which -he lives is eager to welcome a neophyte of real aptitude. And thus -between Facino and Bellarion another link was forged. - -Deep down in Bellarion's soul there was that vague desire, amounting as -yet to little more than a fantastic hope, to consummate his service to -that brave Princess of Montferrat. It was a dream, shadowy, indefinite, -almost elusive to his own consciousness. But the door Facino now held so -invitingly open might certainly lead to its ultimately becoming a -reality. - -They were occupying at the time the loggia of Facino's apartments above -the court of Saint Gotthard. Facino and his lady were seated, one at -each end of that open space. Bellarion stood equidistant from either, -leaning against one of the loggia's slender pillars that were painted -red and white, his back to the courtyard, which lay peaceful now in the -bright sunlight and almost forsaken, for it was the rest hour of early -afternoon. He was dressed in very courtly fashion in a suit of purple -which Facino's wardrobe had supplied. The kilted tunic was caught about -his waist by a belt of violet leather with gold trimmings, and his long -black hair had been carefully combed and perfumed by one of Facino's -servants. He made a brave figure, and the languid sapphire eyes of the -Countess as they surveyed him confirmed for her the conviction already -gathered from his frank and smoothly told tale that between himself and -her husband there existed no relationship such as she had at first -suspected, and such as the world in general would presently presume. - -'My Lord Count advises you shrewdly, Ser Bellarion,' she ventured, -seeing him thoughtful and wavering. 'You make it very plain that you are -not meant for cloisters.' - -She was a handsome woman of not more than thirty, of middle height with -something feline in her beautifully proportioned litheness, and -something feline too in the blue-green eyes that looked with sleepy -arrogance from out of her smoothly pallid face set within a straight -frame of ebony black hair. - -Bellarion considered her, and the bold, direct, appraising glance of his -hazel eyes, which seemed oddly golden in that light, stirred an -unaccountable uneasiness in this proud daughter of the Count of Tenda -who had married out of ambition a man so much older than herself. -Languidly she moved her fan of peacock feathers, languidly surveyed -herself in the mirror set in the heart of it. - -'If I were to await further persuasions I must become ridiculous,' said -Bellarion. - -'A courtly speech, sir,' she replied with her slow smile. Slowly she -rose. 'You should make something of him, Facino.' - -Facino set about it without delay. He was never dilatory when once he -had taken a resolve. They removed themselves next day--Facino, his lady, -his household, and Bellarion--to the ducal hunting-palace at -Abbiategrasso, and there the secular education of Bellarion was at once -begun, and continued until close upon Christmastide, by when some of the -sense of unreality, of dream experiences, began at last to fade from -Bellarion's mind. - -He was taught horsemanship, and all that concerns the management of -horses. Followed a training in the use of arms, arduous daily exercises -in the tilt-yard supervised by Facino himself, superficially boisterous, -impatient, at times even irascible in his zeal, but fundamentally of an -infinite patience. He was taught such crude swordsmanship as then -obtained, an art which was three parts brute force and one part -trickery; he was instructed in ballistics, trained in marksmanship with -the crossbow, informed in the technicalities of the mangonel, and even -initiated into the mysteries of that still novel weapon the cannon, an -instrument whose effects were moral rather than physical, serving to -terrify by its noise and stench rather than actually to maim. A Swiss -captain in Facino's service named Stoffel taught him the uses of the -short but formidable Swiss halbert, and from a Spaniard named de Soto he -learnt some tricks with a dagger. - -At the same time he was taken in hand by the Countess for instruction in -more peaceful arts. An hour each evening was devoted to the dance, and -there were days when she would ride forth with him in the open meadows -about the Ticino to give him lessons in falconry, a pursuit in which she -was greatly skilled; too skilled and too cruelly eager, he thought, for -womanhood, which should be compassionate. - -One autumn day when a northerly wind from the distant snows brought a -sting which the bright sunshine scarcely sufficed to temper, Bellarion -and the Countess Beatrice, following the flight of a falcon that had -been sent soaring to bring down a strong-winged heron, came to the edge -of an affluent of the Ticino, now brown and swollen from recent rains, -on the very spot where Duke Gian Maria had loosed his hounds upon -Bellarion. - -They brought up there perforce just as overhead the hawk stooped for the -third time. Twice before it had raked wide, but now a hoarse cry from -the heron announced the strike almost before it could be seen, then both -birds plumbed down to earth, the spread of the falcon's great wings, -steadying the fall. - -One of the four grooms that followed sprang down, lure in hand, to -recapture the hawk and retrieve the game. - -Bellarion looked on in silence with brooding eyes, heedless of the -satisfaction the Countess was expressing with almost childish delight. - -'A brave kill! A brave kill!' she reiterated, and looked to him in vain -for agreement. A frown descended upon the white brow of that petulant -beauty, rendered by vanity too easily sensitive to disapproval and too -readily resentful. Directly she challenged him. 'Was it not a brave -kill, Bellarion?' - -He roused himself from his abstraction, and smiled a little. He found -her petulance amusing ever, and commonly provoked her by the display of -that amusement. - -'I was thinking of another heron that almost fell a victim here.' And he -told her that this was the spot on which he had met the dogs. - -'So that we're on holy ground,' said she, enough resentment abiding to -provoke the sneer. - -But it went unheeded. 'And from that my thoughts ran on to other -things.' He pointed across the river. 'That way I came from Montferrat.' - -'And why so gloomy about that? You've surely no cause to regret your -coming?' - -'All cause, indeed, for thankfulness. But one day I shall hope to -return, and in strength enough to hood a hawk that's stooping there.' - -'That day is not yet. Besides, the sun is sinking, and we're far from -home. So if you're at the end of your dreams we had best be moving.' - -There was a tartness in her tone that did not escape him. It had been -present lately whenever Montferrat was mentioned. It arose, he -conceived, from some misunderstanding which he could not fathom. Either -to fathom or to dispel it, he talked now as they rode, unfolding all -that was in his mind, more than he knew was in his mind, until actual -utterance discovered it for him. - -'Are you telling me that you have left your heart in Montferrat?' she -asked him. - -'My heart?' He looked at her and laughed. 'In a sense you may say that. -I have left a tangle which I desire one day to unravel. If that is to -have left my heart there ...' He paused. - -'A Perseus to deliver Andromeda from the dragon! A complete -knight-errant aflame to ride in the service of beauty in duress! Oh, you -shall yet live in an epic.' - -'But why so bitter, lady?' wondered Bellarion. - -'Bitter? I? I laugh, sir, that is all.' - -'You laugh. And the matter is one for tears, I think.' - -'The matter of your love-sickness for Valeria of Montferrat?' - -'My ...' He gasped and checked, and then he, who a moment ago had gently -chided her for laughing, himself laughed freely. - -'You are merry on a sudden, sir!' - -'You paint a comic picture, dear madonna, and I must laugh. Bellarion -the nameless in love with a princess! Have you discovered any other -signs of madness in me?' - -He was too genuinely merry for deceit, she thought, and looked at him -sideways under her long lashes. - -'If it is not love that moves you to these dreams, what then?' - -His answer came very soberly, austerely, 'Whatever it may be, love it -certainly is not, unless it be love of my own self. What should I know -of love? What have I to do with love?' - -'There speaks the monk they almost made of you. I vow you shuddered as -you spoke the word. Did the fathers teach you the monkish lie that love -is to be feared?' - -'Of love, madonna, they taught me nothing. But instinct teaches me to -endeavour not to be grotesque. I am Bellarion the nameless, born in -squalor, cradled in a kennel, reared by charity ...' - -'Beatific modesty. Saintly humility. Even as the dust am I, you cry, in -false self-abasement that rests on pride of what you are become, of what -you may yet become, pride of the fine tree grown from such mean soil. -Survey yourself, Bellarion.' - -'That, lady, is my constant endeavour.' - -'But you bring no honesty to the task, and so your vision's warped.' - -'Should I be honest if I magnified myself in my own eyes?' - -'Magnified? Why, where's the need. Was Facino more than you are when he -was your age? His birth could not have been less lowly, and he had not -the half of your endowments, not your beauty, nor your learning, nor -your address.' - -'Lady, you will make me vain.' - -'Then I shall advance your education. There is Ottone Buonterzo, who was -Facino's brother in arms. Like you he, too, was born in the mud. But he -kept his gaze on the stars. Men go whither they look, Bellarion. Raise -your eyes, boy.' - -'And break my nose in falling over the first obstacle in my path.' - -'Did they do this? Ottone is Tyrant of Parma, a sovereign prince. Facino -could be the same if his heart were big enough. Yet in other things he -did not want for boldness. He married me, for instance, the only -daughter of the Count of Tenda, whose rank is hardly less than that of -your lady of Montferrat. But perhaps she is better endowed. Perhaps she -is more beautiful than I am. Is she?' - -'Lady,' said Bellarion, 'I have never seen any one more beautiful than -you.' The slow solemnity of his delivery magnified and transformed the -meaning of his words. - -A scarlet flush swept across the ivory pallor of the Countess. She -veiled her eyes behind lids which were lowered until the long lashes -swept her cheek; a little smile crept into the corners of her full and -perfect lips. She reached out a hand, and momentarily let it rest upon -his own as he rode beside her. - -'That is the truth, Bellarion?' - -He was a little bewildered to see so much emotion evoked so lightly. It -testified, he thought, to a consuming vanity. 'The truth,' he said -shortly and simply. - -She sighed and smiled again. 'I am glad, so glad to have you think well -of me. It is what I have desired of you, Bellarion. But I have been -afraid. Afraid that your Princess of Montferrat might ... supply an -obstacle.' - -'Could any supply an obstacle? I scarcely understand. All that I have -and am I owe to my Lord Count. Am I an ingrate that I could be less than -your slave, yours and my Lord Count's?' - -She looked at him again, and now she was oddly white, and there was a -hard brightness in her eyes which a moment ago had been so soft and -melting. - -'Oh! You talk of gratitude!' she said. - -'Of what else?' - -'Of what else, indeed? It is a great virtue, gratitude; and a rare. But -you have all the virtues. Have you not, Bellarion?' - -He fancied that she sneered. - -They passed from the failing sunlight into the shadows of the wood. But -the chill that fell between them was due to deeper causes. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -THE CHAMPION - - -Facino Cane took his ease at Abbiategrasso in those declining days of -1407 and zestfully devoted himself to the training and education of -Bellarion. It was the first rest the great soldier had known in ten -years, a rest he would never have taken but for the novel occupation -which Bellarion provided him. For Facino was of those who find no peace -in utter idleness. He was of a restless, active mind, and being no -scholar found no outlet for his energy save in physical directions. Here -at Abbiategrasso, away from turbulence, and able for the first time -since Gian Galeazzo's death to live without being perpetually on guard, -he confessed himself happier than he could remember to have been. - -'If this were life,' he said to Bellarion one evening as they sauntered -through the parklands where the red deer grazed, 'a man might be -content.' - -'Content,' said Bellarion, 'is stagnation. And man was not made for -that. I am coming to perceive it. The peace of the convent is as the -peace of the pasture to the ox.' - -Facino smiled. 'Your education progresses.' - -'I have left school,' said Bellarion. 'You relish this lull in your -activities, as a tired man relishes sleep. But no man would be glad to -sleep his life away.' - -'Dear philosopher, you should write a book of such sayings for man's -entertainment and information.' - -I think I'll wait until I am a little older. I may change my mind -again.' - -It was not destined that the rest by which Facino was setting such store -should endure much longer. Rumours of trouble in Milan began to reach -them daily, and in the week before Christmas, on a morning when a -snowstorm kept them within doors about a great hissing fire in the main -hall, Facino wondered whether he should not be returning. - -The bare suggestion seemed to anger his countess, who sat brooding in a -chair of brown walnut set at one of the corners of the hearth. - -'I thought you said we should remain here until spring.' Her tone -revealed the petulance that was ever just under the surface of her -nature. - -'I was not to know,' he answered her, 'that in the meantime the duchy -would go to pieces.' - -'Why should you care? It is not your duchy. Though a man might have made -it so by this.' - -'To make you a duchess, eh?' Facino smiled. His tone was quiet, but it -bore the least strain of bitterness. This was an old argument between -them, though Bellarion heard it now for the first time. 'There are -obstacles supplied by honour. Shall I enumerate them?' - -'I know them by heart, your obstacles of honour.' She thrust out a lip -that was very full and red, suggesting the strong life within her. 'They -did not suffice to curb Pandolfo or Buonterzo, and they are at least as -well-born as you.' - -'We will leave my birth out of the discussion, madonna.' - -'Your reluctance to be reminded of it is natural enough,' she insisted -with malice. - -He turned away, and moved across to one of the tall mullioned windows, -trailing his feet through the pine-needles and slim boughs of evergreens -with which the floor was strewn in place of rushes, unprocurable at this -season of the year. His thumbs were thrust into the golden girdle that -cinctured his trailing houppelande of crimson velvet edged with lynx -fur. - -He stood a moment in silence, his broad square shoulders to the room, -looking out upon the wintry landscape. - -'The snow is falling more heavily,' he said at last. - -But even upon that her malice fastened. 'It will be falling still more -heavily in the hills about Bergamo where Pandolfo rules ...' - -He span round to interrupt her, and his voice rasped with sarcasm. - -'And not quite so heavily in the plain about Piacenza, where Ottone -Buonterzo is tyrant. If you please, madonna, we will change the -subject.' - -'I do not please.' - -'But I do.' His voice beat upwards to the tones that had reduced whole -squadrons to instant obedience. - -The lady laughed, and none too tunefully. She drew her rich cloak of -ermine more closely about her shapely figure. - -'And of course what you please is ever to be the law. We come when you -please, and we depart again as soon as you are tired of country -solitude.' - -He stared at her frowning, a little puzzled. 'Why, Bice,' he said -slowly, 'I never before knew you attached to Abbiategrasso. You have -ever made a lament of being brought hither, and you deafened me with -your complaints three months ago when we left Milan.' - -'Which, nevertheless, did not restrain you from forcing me to come.' - -'That does not answer me.' He advanced towards her. 'What is this sudden -attachment to the place? Why this sudden reluctance to return to the -Milan you profess to love, the gaieties of the court in which you strain -to shine?' - -'I have come to prefer peace, if you must know, if you must have reason -for all things. Besides, the court is not gay these days. And I am -reminded there of what it might be; of what you might make it if you had -a spark of real spirit. There's not one of them, not Buonterzo, nor -Pandolfo, nor dal Verme, nor Appiano, who would not be Duke by now if he -had the chance accorded to you by the people's love.' - -Bellarion marvelled to see him still curb himself before this display of -shameless cupidity. - -'The people's love is mine, Bice, because the people believe me to be -honest and loyal. That faith would leave them the moment I became a -usurper, and I should have to rule by terror, with an iron hand, as --' - -'So that you ruled ...' she was interrupting him, when he swept on: - -'I should be as detested as is Gian Maria to-day. I should have wars on -my hands on every side, and the duchy would become a parade ground.' - -'It was so in Gian Galeazzo's early days. Yet upon that he built the -greatness of Milan and his own. A nation prospers by victorious war.' - -'To-day Milan is impoverished. Gian Maria's misrule has brought her -down. However you squeeze her citizens, you cannot make them yield what -they lack, the gold that will hire and furnish troops to defend her from -a general attack. But for that, would Pandolfo and Buonterzo and the -others have dared what they have dared? I have made you Countess of -Biandrate, my lady, and you'll rest content with that. My duty is to the -son of the man to whom I owe all that I have.' - -'Until that same son hires some one to murder you. What loyalty does he -give you in return? How often has he not tried to shake you from the -saddle?' - -'I am not concerned so much with what he is as with what I am.' - -'Shall I tell you what you are?' She leaned towards him, contempt and -anger bringing ageing lines into her lovely white face. - -'If it will ease you, lady, you may tell me what you think I am. A -woman's breath will neither make nor unmake me.' - -'A fool, Facino!' - -'My patience gives proof of that, I think. Do you thank God for it.' - -And on that he wheeled and sauntered out of the long grey room. - -She sat huddled in the chair, her elbows on her knees, her dark blue -eyes on the flames that leapt about the great sizzling logs. After a -while she spoke. - -'Bellarion!' - -There was no answer. She turned. The long, high-backed form on which he -had sat over against the wall was vacant. The room was empty. She -shrugged impatiently, and swung again to the fire. - -'And he's a fool, too. A blind fool,' she informed the flames. - -It was dinner-time when they returned together. The table was spread, -and the lackeys waited. - -'When you have dined, madonna,' Facino quietly informed her, 'you will -prepare to leave. We return to Milan to-day.' - -'To-day!' There was dismay in her voice. 'Oh! You do this to vex me, to -assert your mastership. You ...' - -His raised hand interrupted her. It held a letter--a long parchment -document. He dismissed the servants, then briefly told her his news. - -There was trouble in Milan, dire trouble. Estorre Visconti, Bernabó's -bastard, together with young Giovanni Carlo, Bernabó's grandson, were -harassing the city in the Ghibelline interest. In a recent raid Estorre -had fired the quarter about the Ticinese Gate. There was want in the -city, and this added to insecurity was rendering the citizens mutinous. -And now, to crown all, was news that, taking advantage of the distress -and unrest, Ottone Buonterzo was raising an army to invade the duchy. - -'It is Gabriello who writes, and in the Duke's interest begs me to -return immediately and take command.' - -'Command!' She laughed. 'And the faithful lackey runs to serve his -master. You deserve that Buonterzo should whip you again as he whipped -you a year ago. If he does, I have a notion who will be Duke of Milan. -He's a man, this Buonterzo.' - -'When he's Duke of Milan, Bice, I shall be dead,' said Facino, smiling. -'So you may marry him then, become his duchess, and be taught how to -behave to a husband. Call the servants, Bellarion.' - -They dined in haste, a brooding silence presiding over the meal, and -within an hour of dining they were ready to set out. - -There was a mule litter for the Countess, horses for Facino and -Bellarion, a half-dozen mounted grooms, and a score of lances to serve -as escort. The company of a hundred Swiss, which Facino had taken with -him to Abbiategrasso, were to follow on the morrow under their own -captain, Werner von Stoffel, to guard the baggage which would be brought -in bullock-carts. - -But at the last moment Facino, who, since rising from table had worn a -thoughtful, undecided air, drew Bellarion aside. - -'Here's a commission for you, boy,' he said, and drew a letter from his -breast. 'Take ten lances for escort, and ride hard for Genoa with this -letter for Boucicault, who is Vicar there for the King of France. -Deliver it in person, and at need supplement it. Listen: It is to -request from him the hire of a thousand French lances. I have offered -him a fair price in this letter. But he's a greedy fellow, and may -require more. You have authority, at need, to pledge my word for twice -the sum stated. I am taking no risks this time with Buonterzo. But do -not let Boucicault suspect that we are menaced, or he will adapt the -price to our need. Let him suppose that I require the men for a punitive -expedition against some of the rebellious Milanese fiefs.' - -Bellarion asked a question or two, and then professed himself not only -ready, but honoured by the trust reposed in him. - -They embraced, and parted, Facino to mount and ride away, Bellarion to -await the groom who was to fetch his horse and Werner von Stoffel who -was to detail the men for his special escort. - -As Facino gave the word to ride, the Countess thrust her head between -the leather curtains of her litter. - -'Where is Bellarion?' - -'He does not ride with us.' - -'He doesn't ...? You are leaving him at Abbiate?' - -'No. But I have other work for him. I am sending him on a mission.' - -'Other work?' Her usually sleepy eyes grew wide awake and round. 'What -work?' - -'Nothing that will imperil him.' He spurred his horse forward to avoid -further questions. 'Push on there!' - -They reached Milan as dusk was falling, and the snow had ceased. They -entered by Porta Nuova, and went at a trot through the slush and filth -of the borgo. But miraculously the word of Facino's coming ran ahead. -They found the great square thronged with people who had turned out to -acclaim him. - -Never yet since Gian Galeazzo's death had it happened to Facino to enter -Milan unacclaimed. But never yet had he received so terrific a -manifestation of affection and good will as this. It expressed reaction -from the terror sown by a rumour lately current that even Facino had at -last forsaken Gian Maria's service, leaving the people at the mercy of -their maniacal Duke and of such men as della Torre and Lonate as well as -of the enemies now known to be rising against them. Facino was the -people's only hope. In war he had proved himself a bulwark. In peace he -had been no less their champion, for he had known how to curb the -savagery of his master, and how to bring some order out of the chaos -into which Gian Maria's misrule was plunging the duchy. - -His presence now in the very hour of crisis, in one of the darkest hours -which Gian Maria's dark reign had provided for them, uplifted them on -wings of confidence to exaggerated heights of hope. - -As the thunders of the acclamations rolled across the great square to -the Old Broletto, from one of whose windows the Duke looked down upon -his people, Facino, bareheaded, his fulvid hair tossed by the breeze, -his square-cut, shaven face looking oddly youthful for his fifty years, -smiled and nodded, whilst his Countess, drawing back the curtains of her -litter, showed herself too, and for Facino's sake was acclaimed with -him. - -As the little troop reached the gateway, Facino raised his eyes and met -the glance of the Duke at the window above. Its malevolence dashed the -glow from his spirit. And he had a glimpse of the swarthy, saturnine -countenance of della Torre, who was looking over Gian Maria's shoulder. - -They rode under the gloomy archway and the jagged teeth of the -portcullis, across the Court of the Arrengo and into the Court of Saint -Gotthard. Here they drew up, and it was a gentleman of Milan and a -Guelph, one of the Aliprandi, who ran forward to hold the stirrup of -Facino the Ghibelline champion. - -Facino went in his turn to assist his Countess to alight. She leaned on -his arm more heavily than was necessary. She raised her eyes to his, and -he saw that they were aswim in tears. In a subdued but none the less -vehement voice she spoke to him. - -'You saw! You heard! And yet you doubt. You hesitate.' - -'I neither doubt nor hesitate,' he quietly answered. 'I know where my -path lies, and I follow it.' - -She made a noise in her throat. 'And at the window? Gian Maria and that -other. Did you see them?' - -'I saw. I am not afraid. It would need more courage than theirs to -express in deed their hatred. Besides, their need of me is too urgent.' - -'One day it may not be so.' - -'Let us leave that day until it dawn.' - -'Then it will be too late. This is your hour. Have they not told you -so?' - -'They have told me nothing that I did not know already--those in the -streets and those at the window. Come, madonna.' - -And the Countess, raging as she stepped beside him, from between her -teeth cursed the day when she had mated with a man old enough to be her -father who at the same time was a fool. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -THE COMMUNE OF MILAN - - -'They deafen us with their acclamations of you, those sons of dogs!' - -Thus the Duke, in angry greeting of the great condottiero, who was not -only the last of his father's captains to stand beside him in his hour -of need, but the only one who had refrained from taking arms against -him. Nor did he leave it there. 'Me they distracted with their howling -lamentations when I rode abroad this morning. They need a lesson in -loyalty, I think. I'll afford it them one of these fine days. I will so, -by the bones of Saint Ambrose! I'll show them who is Duke of Milan.' - -There was a considerable concourse in the spacious chamber known as the -Hall of Galeazzo, in which the Duke received the condottiero, and, as -Facino's wide-set, dark eyes raked their ranks, he perceived at once the -influence that had been at work during his few months of absence. Here -at the Duke's elbow was the sinister della Torre, the leader of the -Guelphic party, the head of the great House of the Torriani, who had -striven once with the Visconti for supremacy in Milan, and in the -background wherever he might look Facino saw only Guelphs, Casati, -Bigli, Aliprandi, Biagi, Porri, and others. They were at their ease, and -accompanied by wives and daughters, these men who two years ago would -not have dared come within a mile of the Visconti Palace. Indeed, the -only noteworthy Ghibelline present, and he was a man so amiably weak as -to count for little in any party, was the Duke's natural brother, -Gabriello Maria, the son who had inherited the fine slender height, good -looks, and red-gold hair of Gian Galeazzo. - -Facino was moved to anger. But he dissembled it. - -'The people perceive in me the possible saviour of your duchy.' He was -smiling, but his eyes were hard. 'It is well to propitiate those who -have the power to serve us.' - -'Do you reprove his highness?' wondered della Torre, scowling. - -'Do you boast your power?' growled the Duke. - -'I rejoice in it since it is to be used in your potency's service, -unlike Buonterzo's which is being used against you.' - -Behind Facino his Countess watched, and inwardly smiled. These fools -were stirring her lord, it seemed, where she could not stir him. - -Gabriello, however, interposed to clear the air. 'And you are very -welcome, Lord Count; your coming is most timely.' - -The Duke flashed him a sidelong glance, and grunted: 'Huh!' - -But Gabriello went on, his manner affable and courtly. 'And his highness -is grateful to you for the despatch you have used in responding to his -call.' - -After all, as titular governor, Gabriello spoke with the voice of -authority, in matters of administration being even superior to the Duke. -And Facino, whose aim was far from provocative, was glad enough to pass -through the door Gabriello held for him. - -'My despatch is natural enough since I have no object but the service of -his highness and the duchy.' - -Later, however, when Facino attended a council that evening to determine -measures a certain asperity was again in his tone. - -He came to the business exacerbated by another scene with his Countess, -in which again she had upbraided him for not dealing with these men as -their ill will deserved by seizing upon the duchy for himself. - -Della Torre's undisguised malice, the Duke's mean, vindictive, -unreasoning jealousy, scarcely held in curb even by his needs, and -Gabriello's hopeless incompetence, almost drove Facino to conclude that -Beatrice was in the right and that he was a fool to continue to serve -where he might command. - -Trouble came when the question arose of the means at their command to -resist Buonterzo, and Gabriello announced that the whole force under -their hands amounted to the thousand mercenaries of Facino's own -condotta, commanded by his lieutenant, Francesco Busone of Carmagnola, -and some five hundred foot made up of Milanese levies. - -Facino denounced this force as utterly inadequate, and informed the -Council that to supplement it he had sent to Boucicault for a thousand -men. - -'A thousand men!' Gabriello was aghast, and so were the others. 'But a -thousand men will cost the treasury ...' - -Facino interrupted him. 'I have offered fifteen gold florins a month for -each man and fifty for the officer commanding them. But my messenger is -authorised to pay twice that sum if necessary.' - -'Fifteen thousand florins, and perhaps thirty thousand! Why, you're -surely mad! That is twice the sum contributed by the Commune. Whence is -the remainder to come? His highness's allowance is but two thousand five -hundred florins a month.' - -'The Commune must be made to realise that the duchy is in danger of -utter shipwreck. If Buonterzo sacks Milan, it will cost them fifty times -the hire of these troops. So they must provide the means to defend it. -It is your business, my lord, as one of the ducal governors, to make -that clear to them.' - -'They will take the view that this levy is far beyond the needs of the -case.' - -'You must persuade them of their error.' - -Gabriello became impatient in his turn. 'How can I persuade them of what -I do not, myself, believe? After all, Buonterzo cannot be in great -strength. I doubt if his whole force amounts to more than a thousand -men.' - -'You doubt!' Facino stormed now, and banged the table in his wrath. 'Am -I to get myself and my condotta cut to pieces because you allow -conjecture to fill the place of knowledge? You set my reputation on the -board in your reckless gambling.' - -'Your reputation stands high, Lord Count,' Gabriello sought to mollify -him. - -'But how long will you let it stand so? I shall presently be known for -improvidence and carelessness in estimating the enemy forces and in -opposing my troops to impossible odds. Once I am given that character, -where do you think I shall be able to hire men to follow me? Mercenaries -who make a trade of war do not go into battle to get themselves -slaughtered, and they do not follow leaders under whom this happens. -That, my lord, you should know. I suffered enough last year against this -same Buonterzo, when your reckless lack of information sent me with six -hundred men to meet his four thousand. Then, as now, you argued that he -was in small strength. That is not an error into which a condottiero is -suffered to fall twice. Let it happen again, and I shall never be able -to raise another condotta.' - -Gian Maria laughed softly, secretly nudged by della Torre. Facino span -round on his stool to face the Duke, and his face was white with anger, -for he read the meaning of that laugh. In his stupid jealousy the -loutish prince would actually welcome such a consummation, unable to -perceive its inevitable consequence to himself. - -'Your highness laughs! You will not laugh when it is accomplished. You -will discover that when there is an end to me as a condottiero, there -will be an end to your highness as Duke of Milan. Do you think these -will save you?' And rising in his passion he swept a hand to indicate -Gabriello, della Torre, and Lonate. 'Who will follow Gabriello when he -takes the field? All the world knows that his mother was a better -soldier than he, and that when she died he could not hold Pisa. And how -will these two poor pimps who fawn upon you serve you in your need?' - -Gian Maria, livid with anger was on his feet, too, by now. 'By God! -Facino, if you had dared say the half of this before my father's face, -your head would have been on the Broletto Tower.' - -'If I had said it before him, I should have deserved no less. I should -deserve no less if I did not say it now. We need plain speaking here to -clear away these vapours of suspicion and ill will.' - -Gian Maria's wits, which ever worked sluggishly and crookedly, were -almost paralysed now under the eyes of this stern soldier. Facino had -ever been able to whistle him to heel, which was the thing he most -detested in Facino. It was an influence which lately, during Facino's -absence, he had been able to shake off. But he found himself cowed now, -despite the support he received from the presence of Facino's enemies. -It was della Torre who answered for him. - -'Is that a threat, Lord Count? Dare you suggest to his highness that you -might follow the example of Buonterzo and the others? You plead for -plain speaking. Be plain, then, so that his highness may know precisely -what is in your mind.' - -'Aye!' cried his highness, glad enough to be supplied with this command. -'Be plain.' - -Facino controlled his wrath until he found it transmuted into contempt. - -'Does your highness heed this witling? Did it require the welcome given -me to-day to prove my loyalty?' - -'To prove it? How does it prove it?' - -'How?' Facino looked at the others, taking his time to answer. 'If I had -a disloyal thought, all I need is to go down into the streets and unfurl -my banner. The banner of the dog. How long do you think would the banner -of the snake be seen in Milan after that?' - -Gian Maria sat down abruptly, making incoherent noises in his throat, -like a hound snarling over a bone. The other three, however, came to -their feet, and della Torre spoke the thought of all. - -'A subject who proclaims himself a danger to his prince has forfeited -the right to live.' - -But Facino laughed at them. 'To it, then, sirs,' he invited. 'Out with -your daggers! There are three of you, and I am almost unarmed.' He -paused and smiled into their sullen eyes. 'You hesitate. You realise, I -see, that having done it, you would need to make your souls and prepare -yourselves to be torn in pieces by the mob.' He turned again to the -Duke, who sat glowering. 'If I boast the power which comes to me from -the people's love, it is that your highness may fully appreciate a -loyalty which has no thought of using that power but to uphold your -rights. These councillors of yours, who have profited by my absence to -inspire in you black thoughts against me, take a different view. I will -leave your highness to deliberate with them.' - -He stalked out with a dignity which left them in confusion. - -At last it was della Torre who spoke. 'A hectoring bully, swollen with -pride! He forces his measures down our throats, commits us to -extravagance whose only purpose is to bolster his reputation as a -condottiero, and proposes to save the duchy from ruin in one way by -ruining it as effectively in another.' - -But Gabriello, weak and incompetent though he might be, and although -sore from Facino's affronts, yet realised the condottiero's indubitable -worth and recognised the cardinal fact that a quarrel with him now would -mean the end of all of them. He said so, thereby plunging his -half-brother into deeper mortification and stirring his two -fellow-councillors into resentful opposition. - -'What he is doing we could do without him,' said Lonate. 'Your highness -could have hired these men from Boucicault, and used them to put down -Facino's insolence at the same time as Buonterzo's.' - -But Gabriello showed him the weakness of his argument. 'Who would have -led them? Do you dream that Boucicault would hire out the troops of the -King of France without full confidence in their leader? As Facino -himself says, mercenaries do not hire themselves out to be slaughtered.' - -'Boucicault himself might have been hired,' suggested the fop. - -'At the price of setting the heel of the King of France upon our necks. -No, no,' Gabriello was emphatic, which did not, however, restrain della -Torre from debating the point with him. - -In the midst of the argument Gian Maria, who had sat gnawing his nails -in silence, abruptly heaved himself up. - -'A foul plague on you and your wrangles! I am sick of both. Settle it as -you like. I've something better to do than sit here listening to your -vapourings.' And he flung out of the room, in quest of the distractions -which his vapid spirit was ever craving. - -In his absence those three, the weakling, the fop, and the schemer, -settled the fortunes of his throne. Della Torre, realising that the -moment was not propitious for intrigue against Facino, yielded to -Gabriello. It was decided that the Commune's confirmation should be -sought for Facino's action in increasing his condotta. - -So Gabriello summoned the Communal Council, and because he feared the -worst, demanded the maximum sum of thirty thousand florins monthly for -Facino's troops. - -The Commune of Milan, so impoverished by the continuous rebellious -depredations of the last five years, was still wrangling over the -matter, its members were still raising their hands and wagging their -heads, when three days later Bellarion rode into Milan with a thousand -horse, made up chiefly of Gascons and Burgundians, and captained by one -of Boucicault's lieutenants, an amiable gentleman named Monsieur de la -Tour de Cadillac. - -The people's fear of storm and pillage, whilst diminished by Facino's -presence, was not yet entirely subdued. Hence there was a glad welcome -for the considerable accretion to the defensive strength represented by -this French legion. - -That gave the Commune courage, and presently it was also to be afforded -relief upon hearing that not thirty thousand florins monthly as -Gabriello Maria Visconti had stated, but fifteen thousand was to be the -stipend of the French lances. - -Facino was delightedly surprised when he learnt this from Bellarion. - -'You must have found that French pedlar in a singularly easy humour that -he should have let you have the men on my own terms: and low terms they -are.' - -Bellarion rendered his accounts. - -'I found him anything but easy, and we spent the best part of two days -haggling. He began by laughing at your offer; described it as impudent; -wondered if you took him for a fool. Thereupon I made shift to take my -leave of him. That sobered him. He begged me not to be hasty; confessed -that he could well spare the men; but that I must know the price was not -more than half the worth of his soldiers. At thirty florins a month for -each man he would appoint a leader for them at his own charges. I said -little beyond asserting that no such price was possible; that it was -beyond the means of the Commune of Milan. He then proposed twenty-five -florins, and finally twenty, below which he swore by all the saints of -France that he would not go. I begged him to take time for thought, and -as the hour was late to let me know his decision in the morning. But in -the morning I sent him a note of leave-taking, informing him that, as -his terms were beyond our means and as our need was none so pressing, I -was setting out for the Cantons to raise the men there.' - -Facino's mouth fell open. 'Body of God! That was a risk!' - -'No risk at all. I had the measure of the man. He was so covetous, so -eager to drive the bargain, that I almost believe I could have got the -men for less than your price if you had not stated it in writing. I was -not suffered to depart. He sent a messenger to beg me wait upon him -before leaving Genoa, and the matter was concluded on your terms. I -signed the articles in your name, and parted such good friends with the -French Vicar that he presented me with a magnificent suit of armour, as -an earnest of his esteem of Facino Cane and Facino Cane's son.' - -Facino loosed his great full-throated laugh over the discomfiture of the -crafty Boucicault, slapped Bellarion's shoulder, commended his guile, -and carried him off at once to the Palace of the Ragione in the New -Broletto where the Council awaited him. - -By one of six gates that pierced this vast walled enclosure, which was -the seat of Milan's civic authority, they came upon the multitude -assembled there and to the Palace of the Ragione in its middle. This was -little more than a great hall carried upon an open portico, to which -access was gained by an exterior stone staircase. As they went up, -Bellarion, to whom the place was new, looked over the heads of the -clamorous multitude in admiring wonder at the beautiful loggia of the -Osii with its delicately pointed arcade in black and white marble and -its parapet hung with the shields of the several quarters of the city. - -Before the assembled Council, with the handsome Gabriello Maria richly -robed beside the President, Facino came straight to the matter nearest -his heart at the moment. - -'Sirs,' he said, 'you will rejoice to see the increase of our strength -by a thousand lances hired from the King of France in an assurance of -Milan's safety. For with a force now of some three thousand men with -which to take the field against Buonterzo, you may tell the people from -me that they may sleep tranquil o' nights. But that is not the end of my -good tidings.' He took Bellarion by the shoulder, and thrust him forward -upon the notice of those gentlemen. 'In the terms made with Monsieur -Boucicault, my adoptive son here has saved the Commune of Milan the sum -of fifteen thousand florins a month, which is to say a sum of between -thirty and fifty thousand florins, according to the length of this -campaign.' And he placed the signed and sealed parchment which bore the -articles on the council table for their inspection. - -This was good news, indeed; almost as good, considering their depleted -treasury, as would have been the news of a victory. They did not -dissemble their satisfaction. It grew as they considered it. Facino -dilated upon Messer Bellarion's intelligent care of their interests. -Such foresight and solicitude were unusual in a soldier, and were -usually left by soldiers contemptuously to statesmen. This the President -of the Council frankly confessed in the little speech in which he voiced -the Commune's thanks to Messer Bellarion, showing that he took it for -granted that a son of Facino's, by adoption or nature, must of necessity -be a soldier. - -Nor was the expression of that gratitude confined to words. In the glow -of their enthusiasm, the Communal Council ended by voting Messer -Bellarion a sum of five thousand florins as an earnest of appreciation -of his care of their interests. - -Thus, suddenly and without warning Bellarion found not merely fame -but--as it seemed to his modest notions--riches thrust upon him. The -President came to shake him by the hand, and after the President there -was the Ducal Governor, the Lord Gabriello Maria Visconti, sometime -Prince of Pisa. - -For once he was almost disconcerted. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -THE FRUITLESS WOOING - - -To have done what Bellarion had done was after all no great matter to -the world of the court and would have attracted no attention there. But -to have received the public thanks of Milan's civic head and a gift of -five thousand florins in recognition of his services was instantly to -become noteworthy. Then there was the circumstance that he was the son -of the famous Facino--for 'adoptive' was universally accepted as the -euphemism for 'natural,' and this despite the Countess Beatrice's -vehement assertions of the contrary; and lastly, there was the fact that -he was so endowed by nature as to commend himself to his fellow-men and -no less to his fellow-women. He moved about the court of Milan during -those three or four weeks of preparation for the campaign against -Buonterzo with the ease of one who had been bred in courts. With -something of the artist's love of beauty, he was guilty almost of -extravagance in his raiment, so that in no single detail now did he -suggest his lowly origin and convent rearing. Rendered conspicuous at -the outset by events and circumstances, he became during those few weeks -almost famous by his own natural gifts and attractions. Gabriello Maria -conceived an attachment for him; the Duke himself chose to be pleasant -and completely to forget the incident of the dogs. Even della Torre, -Facino's mortal but secret enemy, sought to conciliate him. - -Bellarion, whose bold, penetrating glance saw everything, whose rigid -features betrayed nothing, steered a careful course by the aid of -philosophy and a sense of humour which grew steadily and concurrently -with the growth of his knowledge of men and women. - -If he had a trouble in those days when he was lodged in Facino's -apartments in the ducal palace, it lay in the too assiduous attentions -of the Countess Beatrice. She was embittered with grievances against -Facino, old natural grievances immeasurably increased by a more recent -one; and to his discomfort it was to Bellarion that she went with her -plaints. - -'I am twenty years younger than is he,' she said, which was an -exaggeration, the truth being that she was exactly fifteen years her -husband's junior. 'I am as much of an age to be his daughter as are you, -Bellarion, to be his son.' - -Bellarion refused to perceive in this the assertion that she and -Bellarion were well matched in years. - -'Yet, madonna,' said he gently, 'you have been wed these ten years. It -is a little late to repine. Why did you marry him?' - -'Ten years ago he seemed none so old as now.' - -'He wasn't. He was ten years younger. So were you.' - -'But the difference seemed less. We appeared to be more of an age until -the gout began to trouble him. Ours was a marriage of ambition. My -father compelled me to it. Facino would go far, he said. And so he -would, so he could, if he were not set on cheating me.' - -'On cheating you, madonna?' - -'He could be Duke of Milan if he would. Not to take what is offered him -is to cheat me, considering why I married him.' - -'If this were so, it is the price you pay for having cheated him by -taking him to husband. Did you tell him this before you were wed?' - -'As if such things are ever said! You are dull sometimes, Bellarion.' - -'Perhaps. But if they are not said, how are they to be known?' - -'Why else should I have married a man old enough to be my father? It was -no natural union. Could a maid bring love to such a marriage?' - -'Ask some one else, madonna.' His manner became frosty. 'I know nothing -of maids and less of love. These sciences were not included in my -studies.' - -And then, finding that hints were wasted against Bellarion's armour of -simplicity--an armour assumed like any other panoply--she grew -outrageously direct. - -'I could repair the omission for you, Bellarion,' she said, her voice -little more than a tremulous whisper, her eyes upon the ground. - -Bellarion started as if he had been stung. But he made a good recovery. - -'You might; if there were no Facino.' - -She flashed him an upward glance of anger, and the colour flooded her -face. Bellarion, however, went calmly on. - -'I owe him a debt of loyalty, I think; and so do you, madonna. I may -know little of men, but from what I have seen I cannot think that there -are many like Facino. It is his loyalty and honesty prevents him from -gratifying your ambition.' - -It is surprising that she should still have wished to argue with him. -But so she did. - -'His loyalty to whom?' - -'To the Duke his master.' - -'That animal! Does he inspire loyalty, Bellarion?' - -'To his own ideals, then.' - -'To anything in fact but me,' she complained. 'It is natural enough, -perhaps. Just as he is too old for me, so am I too young for him. You -should judge me mercifully when you remember that, Bellarion.' - -'It is not mine to judge you at all, madonna, and Heaven preserve me -from such presumption. It is only mine to remember that all I have and -all I am, I owe to my Lord Count, and that he is my adoptive father.' - -'You'll not, I hope, on that account desire me to be a mother to you,' -she sneered. - -'Why not? It is an amiable relationship.' - -She flung away in anger at that. But only to return again on the morrow -to invite his sympathy and his consolation, neither of which he was -prepared to afford her. Her wooing of him grew so flagrant, so reckless -in its assaults upon the defences behind which he entrenched himself, -that one day he boldly sallied forth to rout her in open conflict. - -'What do you seek of me that my Lord Count cannot give you?' he -demanded. 'Your grievance against him is that he will not make you a -duchess. Your desire in life is to become a duchess. Can I make you that -if he cannot?' - -But it was he, himself, who was routed by the counterattack. - -'How you persist in misunderstanding me! If I desire of him that he make -me a duchess, it is because it is the only thing that he can make me. -Cheated of love, must I be cheated also of ambition?' - -'Which do you rate more highly?' - -She raised that perfect ivory-coloured face, from which the habitual -insolent languor had now all been swept; her deep blue eyes held nothing -but entreaty and submission. - -'That must depend upon the man who brings it.' - -'To the best of his ability my Lord Facino has brought you both.' - -'Facino! Facino!' she cried out in sudden petulance. 'Must you always be -thinking of Facino?' - -He bowed a little. 'I hope so, madonna,' he answered with a grave -finality. - -And meanwhile the profligate court of Gian Maria observed this assiduity -of Facino's lady, and the Duke himself set the fashion of making it a -subject for jests. It is not recorded of him that he made many jests in -his brief day and certainly none that were not lewd. - -'Facino's adoptive son should soon be standing in nearer relationship to -him,' he said. 'He will be discovering presently that his wife has -become by Messer Bellarion's wizardry his adoptive daughter.' - -So pleased was his highness with that poor conceit that he repeated it -upon several occasions. It became a theme upon which his courtiers -played innumerable variations. Yet, as commonly happens, none of these -reached the ears of Facino. If any had reached them, it would have been -bad only for him who uttered it. For Facino's attachment to his quite -unworthy lady amounted to worship. His trust in her was unassailable. -Judging the honesty of others after his own, he took it for granted that -Beatrice's attitude towards his adoptive son was as motherly as became -the wife of an adoptive father. - -This, indeed, was his assumption even when the Countess supplied what -any other man must have accounted grounds for suspicion. - -The occasion came on an evening of early April. Bellarion had received a -message by a groom to wait upon Facino. He repaired to the Count's -apartments, to find him not yet returned, whereupon with a manuscript of -Alighieri's Comedy to keep him company he went to wait in the loggia, -overlooking the inner quadrangle of the Broletto, which was laid out as -a garden, very green in those first days of April. - -Thither, a little to his chagrin, for the austere music of Dante's -Tuscan lines was engrossing him, came the Countess, sheathed in a gown -of white samite, with great sapphires glowing against the glossy black -of her hair to match the dark mysterious blue of her languid eyes. - -She came alone, and brought with her a little lute, an instrument which -she played with some expertness. And she was gifted, too, in the making -of little songs, which of late had been excessively concerned with -unrequited love, despair, and death. - -The Count, she informed Bellarion, had gone to the Castle, by which she -meant, of course, the great fortress of Porta Giovia built and commonly -inhabited by the late Duke. But he would be returning soon. And -meanwhile, to beguile the tedium of his waiting, she would sing to him. - -Singing to him Facino found her, and he was not to guess with what -reluctance Bellarion had suffered her voice to substitute the voice of -Dante Alighieri. Nor, in any case, was he at all concerned with that. - -He came abruptly into the room from which the loggia opened, his manner -a little pressed and feverish. And the suddenness of his entrance, -acting upon a conscience not altogether at rest, cropped her song in -mid-flight. The eyes she raised to his flushed and frowning face were -startled and uneasy. Bellarion, who sat dreaming, holding the -vellum-bound manuscript which was closed upon his forefinger, sprang up, -with something in his manner of that confusion usually discernible in -one suddenly recalled from dreams to his surroundings. - -Facino strode out to the loggia, and there loosed his news at once. - -'Buonterzo is moving. He left Parma at dawn yesterday, and is advancing -towards Piacenza with an army fully four thousand strong.' - -'Four thousand!' cried Bellarion. 'Then he is in greater strength than -you even now.' - -'Thanks to the French contingent and the communal militia, the odds do -not perturb me. Buonterzo is welcome to the advantage. He'll need a -greater when we meet. That will be in two days' time, in three at -latest. For we march at midnight. All is in readiness. The men are -resting between this and then. You had best do the same, Bellarion.' - -Thus, with a complete change from his usual good-tempered, easy-going -manner, already the commander rapping out his orders without waste of -words, Facino delivered himself. - -But now his Countess, who had risen when he announced the imminence of -action, expressed her concern. - -'Bellarion?' she cried. Her face was white to the lips, her rounded -bosom heaving under its close-fitting sheath; there was dread in her -eyes. 'Bellarion goes with you?' - -Facino looked at her, and the lines between his brows grew deeper. It -wounded him sharply that in this hour concern for another should so -completely override concern for himself. Beyond that, however, his -resentment did not go. He could think no evil where his Bice was -concerned, and, indeed, Bellarion's eager interposition would have -supplied the antidote had it been necessary. - -'Why, madonna, you would not have me left behind! You would not have me -miss such an occasion!' His cheeks were aglow; his eyes sparkled. - -Facino laughed. 'You hear the lad? Would you be so cruel as to deny -him?' - -She recaptured betimes the wits which surprise had scattered, and -prudently dissembled her dismay. On a more temperate note, from which -all passion was excluded, she replied: - -'He's such a child to be going to the wars!' - -'A child! Pooh! Who would become master should begin early. At his age I -was leader of a troop.' - -He laughed again. But he was not to laugh later, when he recalled this -trivial incident. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -MANŒUVRES - - -Shortly before midnight they rode out from the Palace of the old -Broletto: Facino, attended by Bellarion for his esquire, a page -bestriding a mule that was laden with his armour, and a half-dozen -men-at-arms. - -Facino was silent and pensive. His lady's farewells had lacked the -tenderness he craved, and the Duke whose battles he went to fight had -not even been present to speed him. He had left the palace to go forth -upon this campaign, slinking away like a discharged lackey. The Duke, he -had been told, was absent, and for all that he was well aware of the -Duke's detestable pernoctations, he preferred to believe that this was -merely another expression of that ill will which, despite all that he -had done and all that it lay in his power to do, the Duke never failed -to display towards him. - -But as the little company rode in the bright moonlight down the borgo of -Porta Giovia, out of a narrow side street emerged a bulky man, almost -dragged along by three great hounds straining at the leash and yelping -eagerly, their noses to the ground. A slender figure in a cloak followed -after him, calling petulantly as he came: - -'Not so fast, Squarcia! Body of God! Not so fast, I say. I am out of -breath!' - -There was no mistaking that strident voice. It was the Duke, himself, -and close upon his heels came six armed lackeys to make a bodyguard. - -Squarcia and his powerful hounds crossed the main street of the borgo, -almost under the head of Facino's horse, the brawny huntsman panting and -swearing as he went. - -'I cannot hold them back, Lord Duke,' he answered. 'They're hot upon the -scent, and strong as mules, devil take them!' - -He vanished down the dark gulf of an alley. From the leader of the -Duke's bodyguard came a challenge: - -'Who goes there at this hour?' - -Facino loosed a laugh that was full of bitterness. - -'Facino Cane, Lord Duke, going to the wars.' - -'It makes you laugh, eh?' The Duke approached him. He had missed the -bitterness of the laughter, or else the meaning of that bitterness. - -'Oh yes, it makes me laugh. I go to fight the battles of the Duke of -Milan. It is my business and my pleasure. I leave you, Lord Duke, to -yours.' - -'Aye, aye! Bring me back the head of that rogue Buonterzo. Good fortune -to you!' - -'Your highness is gracious.' - -'God be with you!' He moved on. 'That rogue Squarcia is getting too far -ahead. Ho, there! Squarcia! Damn your vile soul! Not so fast!' The gloom -of the alley absorbed him. His bodyguard followed. - -Again Facino laughed. '"God be with me," says the Duke's magnificence. -May the devil be with him. I wonder upon what foulness he is bent -to-night, Bellarion.' He touched his horse with the spur. 'Forward!' - -They came to the Castle of Porta Giovia, the vast fortress of Gian -Galeazzo, built as much for the city's protection from without as for -his own from the city. The drawbridge was lowered to receive them, and -they rode into the great courtyard of San Donato, which was thronged -with men-at-arms and bullock-carts laden with the necessaries of the -campaign. Here, in the inner courtyard and in the great plain beyond the -walls of both castle and city, the army of Facino was drawn up, -marshalled by Carmagnola. - -Facino rode through the castle, issuing brief orders here and there as -he went, then, at the far end of the plain beyond, at the very head of -the assembled forces, he took up his station attended by Bellarion, -Beppo the page, and his little personal bodyguard. There he remained for -close upon an hour, and in the moonlight, supplemented by a dozen -flaring barrels of tar, he reviewed the army as it filed past and took -the road south towards Melegnano. - -The order of the going had been preconcerted between Facino and his -lieutenant Carmagnola, and it was Carmagnola who led the vanguard, made -up of five hundred mounted men of the civic militia of Milan and three -hundred German infantry, a mixed force composed of Bavarians, Swabians, -and Saxons, trailing the ponderous German pike which was fifteen feet in -length. They were uniform at least in that all were stalwart, bearded -men, and they sang as they marched, swinging vigorously to the rhythm of -their outlandish song. They were commanded by a Swabian named -Koenigshofen. - -Next came de Cadillac with the French horse, of whom eight hundred rode -in armour with lances erect, an imposing array of mounted steel which -flashed ruddily in the flare from the tar barrels; the remaining two -hundred made up a company of mounted arbalesters. - -After the French came an incredibly long train of lumbering wagons drawn -by oxen, and laden, some with the ordinary baggage of the army--tents, -utensils, arms, munitions, and the like--and the others with mangonels -and siege implements including a dozen cannon. - -Finally came the rearguard composed of Facino's own condotta, increased -by recent recruitings to twelve hundred men-at-arms and supplemented by -three hundred Switzers under Werner von Stoffel, of whom a hundred were -arbalesters and the remainder infantry armed with the short but terribly -effective Swiss halbert. - -When the last had marched away to be absorbed into the darkness, and the -song of the Germans at the head of the column had faded out of earshot, -muffled by the tramp of the rearguard, Facino with his little knot of -personal attendants set out to follow. - -Towards noon of the following day, with Melegnano well behind them, they -came to a halt in the hamlet of Ospedaletto, having covered twenty-five -miles in that first almost unbroken march. The pace was not one that -could be maintained, nor would it have been maintained so long but that -Facino was in haste to reach the south bank of the Po before Buonterzo -could cross. Therefore, leaving the main army to rest at Ospedaletto, he -pushed on with five hundred lances as far as Piacenza. With these at -need he could hold the bridgehead, whilst waiting for the main army to -join him on the morrow. - -At Piacenza, however, there was still no sign of the enemy, and in the -Scotti who held the city--one of the possessions wrested from the Duchy -of Milan--Facino found an unexpected ally. Buonterzo had sent to demand -passage of the Scotti. And the Scotti, with the true brigand instinct of -their kind, had replied by offering him passage on terms. But Buonterzo, -the greater brigand, had mocked the proposal, sending word back that, -unless he were made free of the bridge, he would cross by force and -clean up the town in passing. As a consequence, whilst Buonterzo's -advance was retarded by the necessity of reaching Piacenza in full -force, Facino was given free and unhindered passage by the Scotti, so -that he might act as a buckler for them. - -Having brought his army on the morrow safely across the Po, Facino -assembled it on the left bank of the little river Nure. He destroyed the -bridge by which the Æmilian Way crosses the stream at Pontenure, and -sat down to await Buonterzo, who was now reported to be at Firenzuola, -ten miles away. - -Buonterzo, however, did not come directly on, but, quitting the Æmilian -Way, struck south, and, crossing the shallow hills into the valley of -the Nure, threatened thence to descend upon Facino's flank. - -That was the beginning of a series of movements, of marchings and -counter-marchings, which endured for a full week without ever bringing -the armies in sight of each other. These manœuvres carried them -gradually south, and their operations became a game of hide-and-seek -among the hills. - -At first it bewildered Bellarion that two commanders, each of whom had -for aim the destruction of the other, should appear so sedulously to -avoid an engagement. But in the end, he came to understand the spirit -actuating them. Each fought with mercenary troops, and just as it is not -the business of mercenaries to get themselves killed, neither is it -their business to slay if slaughter can be avoided. They fought for -profit, and whilst prisoners were profitable, since they yielded not -only arms and horses, but also ransoms, dead men yielded nothing beyond -their harness. Therefore they demanded that their commanders should lead -them as nearly as possible into a position of such strategical advantage -that the enemy, perceiving himself at their mercy, should have no choice -but to surrender. To this general rule the only exception was afforded -by the Swiss, who were indifferent to bloodshed. But of Swiss there were -only a few on Facino's side, and none at all on Buonterzo's. - -At the end of a week, after endless manœuvres, matters were very much -as they had been at the beginning. Buonterzo had fallen back again on -Firenzuola, hoping to draw Facino into open country, whilst Facino, -refusing to be drawn, lay patiently at San Nicoló. - -Three days Facino waited there, to be suddenly startled by the news that -Buonterzo was at Aggazano, eight miles away. Suspecting here an attempt -to slip past him and, by crossing perhaps at Stradella, to invade the -territory of Milan, and also because he conceived that Buonterzo had -placed himself in a disadvantageous position, leaving an opening for -attack, Facino decided upon instant action. - -In the best house of San Nicoló, which he had temporarily adopted for -his quarters, Facino assembled on the morning of the 10th of May his -chief officers, Francesco Busone of Carmagnola, Koenigshofen, the Swiss -Werner von Stoffel, and the French commander de Cadillac. - -In a small plain room on the ground floor, darkened by semi-closed -shutters to exclude the too ardent sun, they were gathered, Bellarion -with them, about the plain deal table at which Facino sat. On the -table's white surface the condottiero with a stick of charcoal had drawn -a map which if rough was fairly accurate of scale. In the past week -Bellarion had seen and studied a half-dozen such charts and had come to -read them readily. - -Charcoal stick in hand, Facino expounded. - -'Buonterzo lies here, and the speed at which he has moved from -Firenzuola will constrain him to rest there, whatever his ultimate -intention.' - -Carmagnola interposed. He was a large young man, handsome, florid, and -self-assured. - -'He is too favourably placed for an attack from the plain. At Aggazano -he holds the slopes, whence he can roll down like an avalanche.' - -'You are interrupting me, Francesco.' Facino's voice was dry and cold. -'And you point out the obvious. It is not my intention to make a frontal -attack; but merely to simulate one. Here is my plan: I divide the army -into two battles. One of these, composed of the French horse, the civic -militia, and Koenigshofen's pikes, you shall lead, Francesco, marching -directly upon Aggazano, as if intending to attack. Thus you engage -Buonterzo's attention, and pin him there. Meanwhile with the remainder -of the forces I, myself, march up the valley of the Trebbia as far as -Travo, and then, striking over the hills, descend thence upon -Buonterzo's camp. That will be the moment of your simulated attack from -the plain below to become real, so that whichever way Buonterzo turns, -we are upon his rear.' - -There was a murmur of approval from the four officers. Facino looked -from one to another, smiling a little. 'No situation could be better -suited for such a manœuvre.' - -And now Bellarion, the chess-player and student of the art of war, -greatly daring, yet entirely unconscious of it, presumed to advance a -criticism. - -'The weakness lies in the assumption that this situation will be -maintained until action is joined.' - -Carmagnola gasped, and with Koenigshofen and de Cadillac gave the young -man a stare of haughty, angry amazement. Facino laughed outright, at so -much impudence. - -Werner von Stoffel, between whom and Bellarion a certain friendship had -sprung up during the months they had spent together at Abbiategrasso, -was the only one who spared his feelings, whilst Facino, having vented -his scorn in laughter, condescended to explain. - -'We ensure that by the speed of our onset, which will leave him no time -to move. It is the need for rest that has made him take up this strong -position. Its very strength is the trap in which we'll take him.' He -rose, brushing the matter aside. 'Come! The details each of you can work -out for himself. What imports is that we should move at once, leave camp -and baggage so that we may march unhampered. Here speed is all.' - -But Bellarion was so little abashed by their contempt that he actually -returned to the attack. - -'If I were in Buonterzo's place,' he said, 'I should have scouts along -the heights from Rivergaro to Travo. Upon discovering your intentions -from your movements, I should first descend upon Carmagnola's force, -and, having routed it, I should come round and on, to engage your own. -Thus the division of forces upon which you count for success might -easily be made the cause of your ruin.' - -Again there was a silence of amazement at this babe in warlike matters -who thrust his opinions upon the notice of tried soldiers. - -'Let us thank God,' said Carmagnola with stinging sarcasm, 'that you do -not command Buonterzo's troops, or our overthrow would be assured.' And -he led the rather cruel laughter, which at last silenced Bellarion. - -The two battles into which the army was divided moved at dusk, leaving -all baggage and even the cannon, of which Facino judged that he would -have no need in operations of the character intended. Before midnight -Carmagnola had reached his station within a mile of Aggazano, and Facino -was at Travo, ready to breast the slopes at dawn, and from their summit -descend upon Buonterzo's camp. - -Meanwhile the forces rested, and Facino himself snatched a few hours' -sleep in a green tent which had hurriedly been pitched for him. - -Bellarion, however, too excited by the prospect of action to think of -sleeping, and rendered uneasy by his apprehensions, paced by the river -which murmured at that point over a broad shallow, its waters sadly -shrunken by the recent drought. Here in his pacings he was joined by -Stoffel. - -'I did not laugh at you to-day,' the Swiss reminded him. - -'I have to thank you for that courtesy,' said Bellarion gravely. - -'Courtesy wasn't in my mind.' - -A patriotic Swiss and an able soldier, Stoffel had the appearance of -neither. He was of middle height and a gracefully slim figure which he -dressed with elegance and care. His face was shaven, long and -olive-skinned with a well-bridged nose and dark pensive eyes under -straight black eyebrows. There was about him something mincing and -delicate, but entirely pleasant, for with it all he was virile and -intrepid. - -'You voiced,' he said now, 'a possibility which should not have been -left outside their calculations.' - -'I have never seen a battle,' said Bellarion. 'But I do not need to see -one to know that all strategy is bad which does not consider and provide -for every likely counter-move that is discernible.' - -'And the counter-move you suggested was discernible enough--at least, -when you suggested it.' - -Bellarion looked at the Swiss so far as the Swiss was visible in the -faint radiance of that warm summer night. - -'Thinking as you do, why did you not support me, Stoffel?' - -'Carmagnola and de Cadillac are soldiers of repute, and so is even -Koenigshofen, whilst I am but the captain of a small body of Swiss -infantry whose office it is to carry out the duties imposed upon him. I -do not give advice unasked, which is why even now I dare not suggest to -Facino that he repair his omission to place scouts on the heights. He -takes Buonterzo's vulnerability too much for granted.' - -Bellarion smiled. 'Which is why you seek me; hoping that I will suggest -it to him.' - -'I think it would be well.' - -Bellarion considered. 'We could do better, Stoffel. We could go up -ourselves, and make observations.' - -They came an hour or so later to the crest of the hill, and there -remained on watch for some two hours until the light of dawn was strong -enough to disclose to them in detail the slopes towards Aggazano. And -what they saw in that cold grey light was the realisation, if not of the -exact possibility Bellarion had voiced, at least of something very near -akin. The difference lay in that, instead of moving first against -Carmagnola and later against Facino, Buonterzo was beginning with the -latter course. And Bellarion instantly perceived the advantages of this. -Buonterzo could descend upon Facino from above in a position of enormous -tactical advantage, and, having destroyed him, go round to meet -Carmagnola on level terms of ground. - -The order of the movements, however, was a detail of comparative -unimportance. What mattered was that Buonterzo was actually moving to -destroy severally the two battles into which Facino had divided his -army. In the upland valley to the north, a couple of miles away, already -breasting the gentle slopes towards the summit from which Bellarion and -Stoffel observed them, swarmed the whole army of Ottone Buonterzo. - -The watchers waited for no more. Down the hill again to Travo they raced -and came breathless into the tent where Facino slept. Their news -effectively awakened him. He wasted no time in futile raging, but, -summoning his officers, issued orders instantly to marshal the men and -march down the valley so as to go round to effect a reunion with -Carmagnola's battle. - -'It will never be effected that way.' said Bellarion quietly. - -Facino scowled at him, dismissed the officers to their tasks, and, when -only Stoffel remained, angrily demanded of Bellarion what the devil he -meant by constantly intruding opinions that were not sought. - -'If the last opinion I intruded had been weighed,' said Bellarion, 'you -would not now be in this desperate case.' - -'Desperate!' Facino almost exploded on the word. 'How is it desperate?' - -'Come outside, my lord.' - -To humour his self-sufficiency, to allow it to swell into a monstrous -bubble which when fully swollen he would reduce to nothing by a single -prick, Facino went with him from the tent, Stoffel gravely following. -And in the open, by the river under that long line of shallow hills, -Bellarion expounded the situation in the manner of a pedant lecturing a -scholar. - -'Already, by his present position, Buonterzo has driven the wedge too -deeply between yourself and Carmagnola. A reunion of forces is no longer -possible by marching down the valley. In less than an hour Buonterzo -will command the heights, and observe your every movement. He will be at -a centre, whence he can hurl his force along a radius to strike you at -whatever point of the periphery you chance to occupy. And he will strike -you with more than twice your numbers, falling upon your flank from a -position of vantage which would still render him irresistible if he had -half your strength. Your position, my lord, with the river on your other -flank, is much as was the position of the Austrians at Morgarten when -they were utterly broken by the Swiss.' - -Facino's impatience and anger had gradually undergone a transmutation -into wonder and dismay, and he knew not whether to be more dismayed -because he had failed to perceive the situation for himself, or because -it was pointed out to him by one whose knowledge of the art of war was -all derived from books. - -Without answering, he stood there brooding, chin in hand, striving to -master his bitter vexation. - -'If you had heeded me yesterday --' Bellarion was beginning, which was -very human, but hardly generous, when Facino roughly cut him short. - -'Peace!' he growled. 'What is done is done. We have to deal with what we -find.' He turned to Stoffel. 'We must retreat across the river before -Buonterzo thrusts us into it. There is a ford here above Travo at this -height of water.' - -'That,' ventured Stoffel, 'is but to increase our separation from -Carmagnola.' - -'Don't I know it?' roared Facino, now thoroughly in a rage with himself -and all the world. 'Do you suppose I can perceive nothing? Let a -messenger ride at once to Carmagnola, ordering him to fall back, and -cross below Rivergaro. The river should be fordable just below the -islands. Thus it is possible he might be able to rejoin me.' - -'It should certainly be possible,' the Swiss agreed, 'if Buonterzo -pursues us across the ford, intent upon delivering battle whilst the -odds are so heavily in his favour.' - -'I am counting upon that. We draw him on, refusing battle until -Carmagnola is also across and in his rear. Thus we'll snatch victory -from defeat.' - -'But if he doesn't follow?' quoth Bellarion. And again, in spite of what -had happened, Facino frowned his haughty impatience of this fledgling's -presumption. Unintimidated, Bellarion went on: 'If you were in -Buonterzo's place, would you follow, when, by remaining on this bank and -marching down the valley, you might keep the two enemy battles apart so -as to engage each at your convenience?' - -'If Buonterzo were to do that, I should recross, and he would then have -me upon his rear. After all, if his position has advantages, it has also -disadvantages. However he turn he will be between two forces.' - -'Which is no disadvantage to him unless the two can operate -simultaneously, and this he can prevent once you have crossed the river -by leaving a force to watch you and dispute your passage should you -attempt to return. And for that a small force will suffice. With a -hundred well-posted arbalesters I could hold that ford for a day against -an enemy.' - -'You could?' Facino almost laughed. - -'I could, and I will if the plan commends itself to you.' - -'What plan?' - -It was a plan that had occurred to Bellarion even as they argued, -inspired by the very arguments they had used. He had been conning the -ground beyond the water, a line of shallow hills, with a grey limestone -bluff crowned by a dense wood of lofty elms commanding the ford itself. - -'Buonterzo should be drawn to pursue you across the river, which might -easily happen if you cross in full sight of his forces and with all the -appearance of disorder. An army in flight is an almost irresistible lure -to an overwhelming force. It was thus that Duke William of Normandy -ensured his own ultimate victory at Senlac. The slopes across the water -offer no difficulty to a pursuer, and the prospect of bringing you to an -engagement before Carmagnola can rejoin you should prove too seductive. -It should even render Buonterzo obstinate when he finds his passage -disputed. And for this, as I have said, a hundred arbalesters will -suffice. In the end he must either force a passage, or decide to abandon -the attempt and go instead against Carmagnola first. But before either -happens, if you act promptly, you may have rejoined Carmagnola by -crossing to him at Rivergaro, and then come round the hills upon -Buonterzo's rear, thus turning the tables upon him. Whether he is still -here, attempting to cross, or whether he is marching off down the -valley, he will be equally at your mercy if you are swift. And I will -undertake to hold him until sunset with a hundred crossbowmen.' - -Overwhelmed with amazement by that lucid exposition of a masterly plan, -Facino stood and stared at him in silence. Gravely, at last, he asked -him: 'And if you fail?' - -'I shall still have held him long enough to enable you to extricate -yourself from the trap in which you are now caught.' - -Facino's bewildered glance sought the dark, comely face of Stoffel. He -smiled grimly. 'Am I a fool, Stoffel, that a boy should instruct me in -the art by which I have lived? And would you trust a hundred of your -Swiss to this same boy?' - -'With confidence.' - -But still Facino hesitated. 'You realise, Bellarion, that if the passage -is forced before I arrive, it will go very hard with you?' - -Bellarion shrugged in silence. Facino thought he was not understood. - -'Such an action as you propose will entail great slaughter, perhaps. -Buonterzo will be impatient of that, and he may terribly avenge it.' - -Bellarion smiled. 'He will have to cross first, and meanwhile I shall -count upon his impatience and vindictiveness to hold him here when he -should be elsewhere.' - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -THE BATTLE OF TRAVO - - -The morning sunlight falling across the valley flashed on the arms of -Buonterzo's vanguard, on the heights, even as Facino's rearguard went -splashing through the ford, which at its deepest did not come above the -bellies of the horses or the breasts of Bellarion's hundred Swiss, who, -with arbalests above their heads, to keep the cords dry, were the last -to cross. - -From his eyrie Buonterzo saw the main body of Facino's army straggling -in disorder over the shallow hill beyond the water, and, persuaded that -he had to deal with a rabble disorganized by fear, he gave the order to -pursue. - -A squadron of horse came zigzagging down the hillside at speed, whilst a -considerable body of infantry dropped more directly. - -The last stragglers of the fugitive army had vanished from view when -that cavalry gained the ford and entered the water. But before the head -of the column had reached midstream there was a loud hum of arbalest -cords, and fifty bolts came to empty nearly as many saddles. The column -checked, and, whilst it hesitated, another fifty bolts from the enemy -invisible in the woods that crowned the bluff dealt fresh destruction. - -There was a deal of confusion after that, a deal of raging and -splashing, some seeking to turn and retreat, others, behind, who had not -been exposed to that murderous hail, clamouring to go on. So that by the -time Bellarion's men had drawn their cords anew and set fresh bolts, the -horsemen in the water had gone neither forward nor back. And now -Bellarion let them have a full hundred in a single volley, and thereby -threw them into such panic that there was an end to all hesitation. They -turned about, those that were still able to do so, and, driving -riderless horses before them and assisting wounded comrades to regain -the shore, they floundered their way back. - -The effect of this upon Buonterzo was precisely that upon which -Bellarion in his almost uncanny knowledge of men had counted. He was -filled with fury, which he expressed to those about him denouncing the -action as insensate. - -From the eminence on which he sat his horse he could see that over the -shallow hills across the river the disorderly flight of Facino's troops -continued, and, raging at the delay in the pursuit, Buonterzo rode down -the hill with the remainder of his forces. - -Excited officers met him below to deafen him with facts which he had -already perceived. The ford was held against them by a party of -crossbowmen, rendering impossible the pursuit his potency had commanded. - -'I'll show you,' Buonterzo savagely promised them, and he ordered a -hundred men into the village of Travo to bring thence every door and -shutter the place contained. - -Close upon three hours were spent in that measure of preparation. But -Buonterzo counted upon speedily making up for that lost time once the -bluff were cleared of those pestilential crossbowmen. - -His preparations completed, Buonterzo launched the attack, sending a -body of three hundred foot to lead it, each man bearing above his head -one of the cumbrous improvised shields, and trailing after him his pike, -attached now to his belt. - -From the summit of the bluff Bellarion looked down upon what appeared to -be a solid roof of timber thrusting forward across the stream. A troop -of horse was preparing to follow as soon as the pikemen should have -cleared the way. Bellarion drew two thirds of his men farther off along -the river. Thus, whilst lengthening the range, rendering aim less -certain and less effective, at least it enabled the arbalesters to shoot -at the vulnerable flank of the advancing host. - -The attack was fully two thirds of the way across the ford, which may -have been some two hundred yards in width, before Bellarion's men were -in their new positions. He ordered a volley of twenty bolts, so as to -judge the range; and although only half of these took effect, yet the -demoralisation created, in men who had been conceiving themselves -invulnerably sheltered, was enough to arrest them. A second volley -followed along the low line of exposed flank, and, being more effective -than the first, flung the column into complete disorder. - -Dead men lay awash where they had fallen; wounded men were plunging in -the water, shouting to their comrades for help, what time their comrades -cursed and raved, rousing the echoes of that normally peaceful valley, -as they had been roused before when the horsemen found themselves in -similar plight. Odd shutters and doors went floating down the stream, -and the continuity of the improvised roof having been broken, those -immediately behind the fallen found themselves exposed now in front as -well as on the flank. - -A mounted officer spurred through the water, shouting a command -repeatedly as he came, and menacing the disordered ranks with his sword. -At last his order was understood, and the timber shields were swung from -overhead to cover the flank that was being assailed. That, thought -Buonterzo, should checkmate the defenders of the ford, who with such -foresight had shifted their position. But scarcely was the manœuvre -executed when into them came a volley from the thirty men Bellarion had -left at the head of the bluff in anticipation of just such a -counter-movement. Because the range here was short, not a bolt of that -volley failed to take effect, and by the impression it created of the -ubiquity of this invisible opponent it completed the discomfiture of the -assailants. They turned, flung away their shields, and went scrambling -back out of range as fast as they could breast the water. To speed them -came another volley at their flanks, which claimed some victims, whilst -several men in their panic got into deep water and two or three were -drowned. - -Livid with rage and chagrin, Buonterzo watched this second repulse. He -knew from his earlier observations and from the extent of the volleys -that it was the work of a negligible contingent posted to cover Facino's -retreat, and his wrath was deepened by the reflection that, as a result -of this delay, Facino might, if not actually escape, at least compel him -now to an arduous pursuit. No farther than that could Buonterzo see, in -the blindness of his rage, precisely as Bellarion had calculated. And -because he could see no farther, he stood obstinately firm in his -resolve to put a strong force across the river. - -The sun was mounting now towards noon, and already over four hours had -been spent at that infernal ford. Yet realising, despite his impatience, -that speed is seldom gained by hastiness, Buonterzo now deliberately -considered the measures to be taken, and he sent men for a mile or more -up and down streams to seek another passage. Another hour was lost in -this exploration, which proved fruitless in the end. But meanwhile -Buonterzo held in readiness a force of five hundred men-at-arms in full -armour, commanded by an intrepid young knight named Varallo. - -'You will cross in spite of any losses,' Buonterzo instructed him. 'I -compute them to number less than two hundred men, and if you are -resolute you will win over without difficulty. Their bolts will not take -effect save at short range, and by then you will be upon them. You are -to give no quarter and make no prisoners. Put every man in that wood to -the sword.' - -An ineffective volley rained on breastplate and helmet at the outset, -and, encouraged by this ineffectiveness, Varallo urged forward his -men-at-arms. Thus he brought them steadily within a range whereat -arbalest bolt could pierce their protecting steel plates. But Bellarion, -whose error in prematurely loosing the first volley was the fruit of -inexperience, took no chances thereafter. He ordered his men to aim at -the horses. - -The result was a momentary check when a half-score of stricken chargers -reared and plunged and screamed in pain and terror, and flung off as -many riders to drown helplessly in their armour, weighed down by it and -unable to regain their feet. - -But Varallo, himself scatheless, urged them on with a voice of brass, -and brought them after that momentary pause of confusion to the far -bank. Here another dozen horses were brought down, and two or three men -directly slain by bolts before Varallo had marshalled them and led them -charging up and round the shallow hill, where the ascent was easy to the -wood that crowned the bluff. - -The whole of Buonterzo's army straggling along the left bank of the -river cheered them lustily on, and the dominant cry that rang out -clearly and boldly was 'No quarter!' - -That cry rang in the ears of Facino Cane, as he mounted the hilltop -above and behind Buonterzo's force. He had made such good speed, acting -upon Bellarion's plan, that crossing at Rivergaro he had joined -Carmagnola, whom he met between there and Agazzano, and sweeping on, -round, and up he had completed a circuit of some twelve miles in a bare -five hours. - -And here below him, at his mercy now, the strategic position of that -day's dawn completely reversed, lay Buonterzo's army, held in check -there by the skill and gallantry of Bellarion and his hundred Swiss. But -it was clear that he had arrived barely in time to command victory, and -possible that he had arrived too late to save Bellarion. - -Instantly he ordered Cadillac to cleave through, and cross in a forlorn -attempt to rescue the party in the wood from the slaughter obviously -intended. And down the hill like an avalanche went the French horse upon -an enemy too stricken by surprise to take even such scant measures of -defence as the ground afforded. - -Over and through them went de Cadillac, riding down scores, and hurling -hundreds into the river. Through the ford his horses plunged and -staggered at almost reckless speed, to turn Varallo's five hundred, who, -emerging from the wood, found themselves cut off by a force of twice -their strength. Back into the wood they plunged and through it, with de -Cadillac following. Out again beyond they rode, and down the slope to -the plain at breakneck speed. For a mile and more de Cadillac pursued -them. Then, bethinking him that after all his force amounted to one -third of Facino's entire army, and that his presence might be required -on the main scene of action, he turned his men and rode back. - -They came again by way of the wood, and along the main path running -through it they found nigh upon a score of Swiss dead, all deliberately -butchered, and one who still lived despite his appalling wounds, whom -they brought back with them. - -By the time they regained the ford, the famous Battle of Travo--as it is -known to history--was all but over. - -The wide breach made in Buonterzo's ranks by de Cadillac's charge was -never healed. Perceiving the danger that was upon them from Facino's -main army, the two broken ends of that long line went off in opposite -directions, one up the valley and the other down, and it must be -confessed that Buonterzo, realising the hopelessness of the position in -which he had been surprised, himself led the flight of the latter and -more numerous part of his army. It may have been his hope to reach the -open plains beyond Rivergaro and there reform his men and make a stand -that should yet retrieve the fortunes of the day. But Facino himself -with his own condotta of twelve hundred men took a converging line along -the heights, to head Buonterzo off at the proper moment. When he judged -the moment to have arrived, Facino wheeled his long line and charged -downhill upon men who were afforded in that narrow place no opportunity -of assuming a proper formation. - -Buonterzo and some two hundred horse, by desperate spurring, eluded the -charge. The remainder amounting to upwards of a thousand men were rolled -over, broken, and hemmed about, so that finally they threw down their -arms and surrendered before they were even summoned to do so. - -Meanwhile Koenigshofen, with the third battle into which the army had -been so swiftly divided, dealt similarly with the fugitives who had -attempted to ascend the valley. - -Two thousand prisoners, fifteen hundred horses, a hundred baggage-carts -well laden, a score of cannon besides some tons of armour and arms, was -the booty that fell to Facino Cane at Travo. Of the prisoners five -hundred Burgundian men-at-arms were taken into his own service. A -thousand others were stripped of arms, armour, and horses, whilst the -remainder, among whom were many officers and knights of condition, were -held for ransom. - -The battle was over, but Facino had gone off in pursuit of Buonterzo; -and Carmagnola, assuming command, ordered the army to follow. They came -upon their leader towards evening between Rivergaro and Piacenza, where -he had abandoned the pursuit, Buonterzo having crossed the river below -the islands. - -Carmagnola, flushed and exultant, gave him news of the completeness of -the victory and the richness of the booty. - -'And Bellarion?' quoth Facino, his dark eyes grave. - -De Cadillac told of the bodies in the wood; Stoffel with sorrow on his -long swarthy face repeated the tale of the wounded Swiss who had since -died. The fellow had reported that the men-at-arms who rode in amongst -them shouting 'No quarter!' had spared no single life. There could be no -doubt that Bellarion had perished with the rest. - -Facino's chin sank to his breast, and the lines deepened in his face. - -'It was his victory,' he said, slowly, sorrowfully. 'His was the mind -that conceived the plan which turned disaster into success. His the -gallantry and self-sacrifice that made the plan possible.' He turned to -Stoffel who more than any other there had been Bellarion's friend. 'Take -what men you need for the task, and go back to recover me his body. -Bring it to Milan. The whole nation shall do honour to his ashes and his -memory.' - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -DE MORTUIS - - -There are men to whom death has brought a glory that would never have -been theirs in life. An instance of that is afforded by the history of -Bellarion at this stage. - -Honest, loyal, and incapable of jealousy or other kindred meanness, -Facino must have given Bellarion a due measure of credit for the victory -over Buonterzo if Bellarion had ridden back to Milan beside him. But -that he would have given him, as he did, a credit so full as to make the -achievement entirely Bellarion's, could hardly be expected of human -nature or of Facino's. A living man so extolled would completely have -eclipsed the worth of Facino himself; besides which to the man who in -achieving lays down his life, we can afford to be more generous--because -it is less costly--than to the man who survives his achievement. - -Never, perhaps, in its entire history had the Ambrosian city been moved -to such a delirium of joy as that in which it now hailed the return of -the victorious condottiero who had put an end to the grim menace -overhanging a people already distracted by internal feuds. - -News of the victory had preceded Facino, who reached Milan ahead of his -army two days after Buonterzo's rout. - -It had uplifted the hearts of all, from the meanest scavenger to the -Duke, himself. And yet the first words Gian Maria addressed to Facino in -the audience chamber of the Broletto, before the assembled court, were -words of censure. - -'You return with the work half done. You should have pursued Buonterzo -to Parma and invested the city. This was your chance to restore it to -the crown of Milan. My father would have demanded a stern account of you -for this failure to garner the fruits of victory.' - -Facino flushed to the temples. His jaw was thrust forward as he looked -the Duke boldly and scathingly between the eyes. - -'Your father, Lord Prince, would have been beside me on the battle-field -to direct the operations that were to preserve his crown. Had your -highness followed his illustrious example there would be no occasion now -for a reproach that must recoil upon yourself. It would better become -your highness to return thanks for a victory purchased at great -sacrifice.' - -The goggle eyes looked at him balefully until their glance faltered as -usual under the dominance of the condottiero's will, the dominance which -Gian Maria so bitterly resented. Ungracefully the slender yet awkward -body sprawled in the great gilded chair, red leg thrown over white one. - -It was della Torre, tall and dark at his master's side, who came to the -Duke's assistance. 'You are a bold man, Lord Count, so to address your -prince.' - -'Bold, aye!' growled the Duke, encouraged by that support. 'Body of God! -Bold to recklessness. One of these days ...' He broke off, the coarse -lips curling in a sneer. 'But you spoke of sacrifices?' The cunning that -lighted his brutishness fastened upon that. It boded, he hoped, a tale -of losses that should dim the lustre of this popular idol's achievement. - -Facino rendered his accounts, and it was then that he proclaimed -Bellarion's part; he related how Bellarion's wit had devised the whole -plan which had reversed the positions on the Trebbia, and he spoke -sorrowfully of how Bellarion and his hundred Swiss had laid down their -lives to make Facino's victory certain. - -'I commend his memory to your highness and to the people of Milan.' - -If the narrative did not deeply move Gian Maria, at least it moved the -courtiers present, and more deeply still the people of Milan when it -reached them later. - -The outcome was that after a Te Deum for the victory, the city put on -mourning for the martyred hero to whom the victory was due; and Facino -commanded a Requiem to be sung in Saint Ambrose for this Salvator -Patriæ, whose name, unknown yesterday, was by now on every man's lips. -His origin, rearing, and personal endowments were the sole subjects of -discussion. The tale of the dogs was recalled by the few who had ever -heard of it and now widely diffused as an instance of miraculous powers -which disposed men almost to canonise Bellarion. - -Meanwhile, however, Facino returning exacerbated from that audience was -confronted by his lady, white-faced and distraught. - -'You sent him to his death!' was the furious accusation with which she -greeted him. - -He checked aghast both at the words and the tone. 'I sent him to his -death!' - -'You knew to what you exposed him when you sent him to hold that ford.' - -'I did not send him. Himself he desired to go; himself proposed it.' - -'A boy who did not know the risk he ran!' - -The memory of the protest she had made against Bellarion's going rose -suddenly invested with new meaning. Roughly, violently, he caught her by -the wrist. His face suddenly inflamed was close to her own, the veins of -his brow standing out like cords. - -'A boy, you say. Was that what you found him, lady?' - -Scared, but defiant, she asked him: 'What else?' - -'What else? Your concern suggests that you discovered he's a man. What -was Bellarion to you?' - -For once he so terrified her that every sense but that of -self-preservation abandoned her on the instant. - -'To me?' she faltered. 'To me?' - -'Aye, to you. Answer me.' There was death in his voice, and in the -brutal crushing grip upon her wrist. - -'What should he have been, Facino?' She was almost whimpering. 'What -lewdness are you dreaming?' - -'I am dreaming nothing, madam. I am asking.' - -White-lipped she answered him. 'He was as a son to me.' In her affright -she fell to weeping, yet could be glad of the ready tears that helped -her to play the part so suddenly assumed. 'I have no child of my own. -And so I took him to my empty mother's breast.' - -The plaint, the veiled reproach, overlaid the preposterous falsehood. -After all, if she was not old enough to be Bellarion's mother, at least -she was his senior by ten years. - -Facino loosed his grip, and fell back, a little abashed and ashamed. - -'What else could you have supposed him to me?' she was complaining. -'Not ... not, surely, that I had taken him for my lover?' - -'No,' he lied lamely. 'I was not suspecting that.' - -'What then?' she insisted, playing out her part. - -He stood looking at her with feverish eyes. 'I don't know,' he cried out -at last. 'You distract me, Bice!' and he stamped out. - -But the suspicion was as a poison that had entered his veins, and it was -a moody, silent Facino who sat beside his lady at the State supper given -on the following night in the old Broletto Palace. It was a banquet of -welcome to the Regent of Montferrat, his nephew the Marquis Gian -Giacomo, and his niece the Princess Valeria, whose visit was the result -of certain recent machinations on the part of Gabriello Maria. - -Gabriello Maria had lately been exercised by the fundamental weakness of -Gian Maria's position, and he feared lest the victor in the conflict -between Facino and Buonterzo might, in either case, become a menace to -the Duchy. No less was he exercised by the ascendancy which was being -obtained in Milan by the Guelphs under della Torre, an ascendancy so -great that already there were rumours of a possible marriage between the -Duke and the daughter of Malatesta of Rimini, who was regarded as the -leader of the Guelphic party in Italy. Now Gabriello, if weak and -amiable, was at least sincere in his desire to serve his brother as in -his desire to make secure his own position as ducal governor. For -himself and his brother he could see nothing but ultimate disaster from -too great a Guelphic ascendancy. - -Therefore, had he proposed an alliance between Gian Maria and his -father's old ally and friend, the Ghibelline Prince of Montferrat. Gian -Maria's jealous fear of Facino's popularity had favourably disposed him, -and letters had been sent to Aliprandi, the Orator of Milan at Casale. - -Theodore, on his side, anxious to restore to Montferrat the cities of -Vercelli and Alessandria which had been wrested from it by the -all-conquering Gian Galeazzo, and having also an eye upon the lordship -of Genoa, once an appanage of the crown of Montferrat, had conceived -that the restoration of the former should be a condition of the treaty -of alliance which might ultimately lead to the reconquest of the latter. - -Accordingly he had made haste, in response, to come in person to Milan -that he might settle the terms of the treaty with the Duke. With him he -had brought his niece and the nephew on whose behalf he ruled, who were -included in Gabriello's invitation. Gabriello's aim in this last detail -was to avert the threatened Malatesta marriage. A marriage between the -Duke and the Princess of Montferrat might be made by Theodore an -absolute condition of that same treaty, if his ambition for his niece -were properly fired. - -At the banquet that night, Gabriello watched his brother, who sat with -Theodore on his right and the Princess Valeria on his left, for signs -from which he might calculate the chances of bringing the secret part of -his scheme to a successful issue. And signs were not wanting to -encourage him. It was mainly to the Princess that Gian Maria addressed -himself. His glance devoured the white beauty of her face with its crown -of red-gold hair; his pale goggle eyes leered into the depths of her own -which were so dark and inscrutable, and he discoursed the while, loud -and almost incessantly, in an obvious desire to dazzle and to please. - -And perhaps because the lady remained unmoved, serenely calm, a little -absent almost, and seldom condescending even to smile at his gross -sallies, he was piqued into greater efforts for her entertainment, until -at last he blundered upon a topic which obviously commanded her -attention. It was the topic of the hour. - -'There sits Facino Cane, Count of Biandrate,' he informed her. 'That -square-faced fellow yonder, beside the dark lady who is his countess. An -overrated upstart, all puffed up with pride in an achievement not his -own.' - -The phrase drew the attention of the Marquis Theodore. - -'But if not his own, whose, then, the achievement, highness?' - -'Why a fledgling's, one whom he claims for his adoptive son.' The -adjective was stressed with sarcasm. 'A fellow named Bellarion.' - -'Bellarion, eh?' The Regent betrayed interest. So, too did the Princess. -For the first time she faced her odious host. Meanwhile Gian Maria ran -on, his loud voice audible even to Facino, as he no doubt intended. - -'The truth is that by his rashness Facino was all but outfought, when -this Bellarion showed him a trick by which he might turn the tables on -Buonterzo.' - -'A trick?' said she, in an odd voice, and Gian Maria, overjoyed to have -won at last her attention, related in detail the strategy by which -Facino's victory had been snatched. - -'A trick, as your highness said,' was her comment. 'Not a deed of arms -in which there was a cause for pride.' - -Gian Maria stared at her in surprise, whilst Theodore laughed aloud. - -'My niece is romantic. She reads the poets, and from them conceives of -war as a joyous joust, or a game of chivalry, with equal chances and a -straightforward encounter.' - -'Why, then,' laughed the Duke, 'the tale should please you, madonna, of -how with a hundred men this rascal held the ford against Buonterzo's -army for as long as the trick's success demanded.' - -'He did that?' she asked, incredulous. - -'He did more. He laid down his life in doing it. He and his hundred were -massacred in cold blood. That is why on Wednesday, at Saint Ambrose, a -Requiem Mass is to be sung for him who in the eyes of my people deserves -a place in the Calendar beside Saint George.' - -His aim in this high praise was less to bestow laurels upon Bellarion -than to strip them from Facino. 'And I am not sure that the people are -wrong. _Vox populi, vox Dei_. This Bellarion was oddly gifted, oddly -guarded.' In illustration of this he passed on to relate that incident -which had come to be known by then in Milan as 'The Miracle of the -Dogs.' He told the tale without any shame at the part he had played, -without any apparent sense that to hunt human beings with hounds was -other than a proper sport for a prince. - -As she listened, she was conscious only of horror of this monstrous boy, -so that the flesh of her arm shrank under the touch of his short, -broad-jewelled paw, from which the finger-nails had been all but -entirely gnawed. Anon, however, in the solitude of the handsome chamber -assigned to her, she came to recall and weigh the things the Duke had -said. - -This Bellarion had laid down his life in the selfless service of -adoptive father and country, like a hero and a martyr. She could -understand that in one of whom her knowledge was what it was of -Bellarion as little as she could understand the miracle of the dogs. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -THE KNIGHT BELLARION - - -That Requiem Mass at Saint Ambrose's for the repose of the soul of -Bellarion was never sung. And this because, whilst the bells were -solemnly tolling in summons to the faithful, Messer Bellarion, himself, -very much in the flesh, and accompanied by Werner von Stoffel, who had -been sent to recover his body, marched into the city of Milan by the -Ticinese Gate at the head of some seventy Swiss arbalesters, the -survivors of his hundred. - -There was some delay in admitting them. When that dusty company came in -sight, swinging rhythmically along, in steel caps and metal-studded -leather tunics, crossbows shouldered, the officer of the gate assumed -them to be one of the marauding bands which were continually harassing -the city by their incursions. - -By the time that Bellarion had succeeded in persuading him of his -identity, rumour had already sped before him with the amazing news. -Hence, in a measure as he penetrated further into the city, the greater -was his difficulty in advancing through the crowd which turned out to -meet him and to make him acquainted with the fame to which his supposed -death had hoisted him. - -In the square before the cathedral, the crowd was so dense that he could -hardly proceed at all. The bells had ceased. For news of his coming had -reached Saint Ambrose, and the intended service was naturally abandoned. -This Bellarion deplored, for a sermon on his virtues would have afforded -him an entertainment vouchsafed to few men. - -At last he gained the Broletto and the courtyard of the Arrengo, which -was thronged almost as densely as the square outside. Thronged, too, -were the windows overlooking it, and in the loggia on the right -Bellarion perceived the Duke himself, standing between the tall, black, -saturnine della Torre and the scarlet Archbishop of Milan, and, beside -the Archbishop, the Countess Beatrice, a noble lady sheathed in white -samite with black hair fitting as close and regularly to her pale face -as a cap of ebony. She was leaning forward, one hand upon the parapet, -the other waving a scarf in greeting. - -Bellarion savoured the moment critically, like an epicure in life's -phenomena. Fra Serafino rightly described the event as one of those many -friendly contrivings of Fortune, as a result of which he came ultimately -to be known as Bellarion the Fortunate. - -Similarly he savoured the moment when he stood before the Duke and his -assembled court in the great frescoed chamber known as the Hall of -Galeazzo, named after that son of Matteo Visconti who was born _ad cantu -galli_. - -Facino, himself, had fetched him thither from the court of the Arrengo, -and he stood now dusty and travel-stained, in steel cap and leather -tunic, still leaning upon the eight-foot halbert which had served him as -a staff. Calm and unabashed under the eyes of that glittering throng, he -rendered his account of this fresh miracle--as it was deemed--to which -he owed his preservation. And the account was as simple as that which -had explained to Facino the miracle of the dogs. - -When Buonterzo's men-at-arms had forced the passage of the ford, -Bellarion had been on the lower part of the bluff with some two thirds -of his band. He had climbed at once to the summit, so as to conduct the -thirty men he had left there to the shelter on the southern slope. But -he came too late. The vindictive soldiers of Buonterzo were already -pursuing odd survivors through the trees to the cry of 'No quarter!' To -succour them being impossible, Bellarion conceived it his duty to save -the men who were still with him. Midway down the wooded farther slope he -had discovered, at a spot where the descent fell abruptly to a ledge, a -cave whose entrance was overgrown and dissembled by a tangle of wild -vine and jessamine. Thither he now led them at the double. The cave -burrowed deeply into the limestone rock. - -'We replaced,' he related, 'the trailing plants which our entrance had -disturbed, and retired into the depths of the cave to await events, just -as the first of the horsemen topped the summit. From the edge of the -wood they surveyed the plain below. Seeing it empty, they must have -supposed that those they had caught and slain composed the entire -company which had harassed them. They turned, and rode back, only to -return again almost at once, their force enormously increased as it -seemed to us who could judge only by sounds. - -'I realise now that in reality they were in flight before the French -cavalry which had been sent across to rescue us. - -'For an hour or more after their passage we remained in our concealment. -At last I sent forth a scout, who reported a great body of cavalry -advancing from the Nure. This we still assumed to be Buonterzo's horse -brought back by news of Facino's real movements. For another two hours -we remained in our cave, and then at last I climbed to the summit of the -bluff, whence I could survey the farther bank of the Trebbia. To my -amazement I found it empty, and then I became aware of men moving among -the trees near at hand, and presently found myself face to face with -Werner von Stoffel, who told me of the battle fought and won whilst we -had lain in hiding.' - -He went on to tell them how they had crossed the river and pushed on to -Travo in a famished state. They found the village half wrecked by the -furious tide of war that had swept over it. Yet some food they obtained, -and towards evening they set out again so as to overtake Facino's army. -But at San Giorgio, which they reached late at night, and where they -were constrained to lie, they found that Facino had not gone that way, -and that, therefore, they were upon the wrong road. Next morning, -consequently, they decided to make their own way back to Milan. - -They crossed the Po at Piacenza, only to find themselves detained by the -Scotti for having marched into the town without permission. The Scotti -knew of the battle fought, but not of its ultimate issue. Buonterzo was -in flight; but he might rally. And so, for two days Bellarion and his -little band were kept in Piacenza until it was definitely known there -that Buonterzo's rout was complete. Then, at last, his departure was -permitted, since to have detained him longer must provoke the resentment -of the victorious Facino. - -'We have made haste on the march since,' he concluded, 'and I rejoice to -have arrived at least in time to prevent a Requiem, which would have -been rendered a mockery by my obstinate tenacity to life.' - -Thus, on a note of laughter, he closed a narrative that was a model of -lucid brevity and elegant, Tuscan delivery. - -But there were two among the courtly crowd who did not laugh. One was -Francesco Busone of Carmagnola, Facino's handsome, swaggering -lieutenant, who looked sourly upon this triumph of an upstart in whom he -had already feared a rival. The other was the Princess Valeria, who, -herself unseen in that concourse, discovered in this narrative only an -impudent confession of trickery from one whom she had known as a base -trickster. Almost she suspected him of having deliberately contrived -that men should believe him dead to the end that by this sensational -resurrection he should establish himself as the hero of the hour. - -Gabriello Maria, elegant and debonair, came to shake him by the hand, -and after Gabriello came the Duke with della Torre, to praise him almost -fawningly as the Victor of Travo. - -'That title, Lord Duke, belongs to none but my Lord Facino.' - -'Modesty, sir,' said della Torre, 'is a garment that becomes a hero.' - -'If my Lord Facino did not wear it, sir, you could not lie under your -present error. He must have magnified to his own cost my little -achievement.' - -But they would not have him elude their flattery, and when at last they -had done with him he was constrained to run the gauntlet of the -sycophantic court, which must fawn upon a man whom the Duke approved. -And here to his surprise he found the Marquis Theodore, who used him -very civilly and with no least allusion to their past association. - -At last Bellarion escaped, and sought the apartments of Facino. There he -found the Countess alone. She rose from her seat in the loggia when he -entered, and came towards him so light and eagerly that she seemed -almost to drift across the floor. - -'Bellarion!' - -There was a flush on her usually pale cheeks, a glitter in her bright -slanting eyes, and she came holding out both hands in welcome. - -'Bellarion!' she cried again, and her voice throbbed like the plucked -chords of a lute. - -Instantly he grew uneasy. 'Madonna!' He bowed stiffly, took one of her -proffered hands, and bore it formally to his lips. 'To command!' - -'Bellarion!' This time that melodious voice was pitched reproachfully. -She seized him by his leather-clad arms, and held him so, confronting -him. - -'Do you know that I have mourned you dead? That I thought my heart would -break? That my own life seemed to have gone out with yours? Yet all that -you can say to me now--in such an hour as this--so cold and formally is -"to command"! Of what are you made, Bellarion?' - -'And of what are you made, madonna?' Roughly almost, he disengaged -himself from her grip. He was very angry, and anger was a rare emotion -in his cold, calculating nature. 'O God! Is there no loyalty in all this -world? Below, there was the Duke to nauseate me with flattery which was -no more than base disloyalty to my lord. I escape from it to meet here a -disloyalty which wounds me infinitely more.' - -She had fallen back a little, and momentarily turned aside. Suddenly she -faced him again, breathless and very white. Her long narrow eyes seemed -to grow longer and narrower. Her expression was not nice. - -'Why, what are you assuming?' There was now no music in her voice. It -was harshly metallic. 'Has soldiering made you fatuous by chance?' She -laughed unpleasantly, as upon a sudden scorn-provoking revelation. 'I -see! I see! You thought that I ...! You thought ...! Why, you fool! You -poor, vain fool! Shall I tell Facino what you thought, and how you have -dared to insult me with it?' - -He stood bewildered, aghast, and indignant. He sought to recall her -exact expressions. 'You used words, madonna ...' he was beginning hotly -when suddenly he checked, and when he resumed the indignation had all -gone out of him. 'What you have said is very just. I am a fool, of -course. You will give me leave?' - -He made to go, but she had not yet done with him. - -'I used words, you say. What words? What words that could warrant your -assumptions? I said that I had mourned you. It is true. As a mother -might have mourned you. But you ... You could think ...' She swung past -him, towards the open loggia. 'Go, sir. Go wait elsewhere for my lord.' - -He departed without another word, not indeed to await Facino, whom he -did not see again until the morrow, a day which for him was very full. - -Betimes he was sought by the Lord Gabriello Maria, who came at the -request of the Commune of Milan to conduct him to the Ragione Palace, -there to receive the thanks of the representatives of the people. - -'I desire no thanks, and I deserve none.' His manner was almost sullen. - -'You'll receive them none the less. To disregard the invitation were -ungracious.' - -And so the Lord Gabriello carried off Bellarion, the son of nobody, to -the homage of the city. In the Communal Palace he listened to a recital -by the President of his shining virtues and still more shining services, -in token of their appreciation of which the fathers of the Ambrosian -city announced that they had voted him the handsome sum of ten thousand -gold florins. In other words, they had divided between himself and -Facino the sum they had been intending to award the latter for -delivering the city from the menace of Buonterzo. - -After that, and in compliance with the request of the Council, the -rather bewildered Bellarion was conducted by his noble escort to receive -the accolade of knighthood. Empanoplied for the ceremony in the suit of -black armour which had been Boucicault's gift to him, he was conducted -into the court of the Arrengo, where Gian Maria in red and white -attended by the nobility of Milan awaited him. But it was Facino, very -grave and solemn, who claimed the right to bestow the accolade upon one -who had so signally and loyally served him as an esquire. And when -Bellarion rose from his knees, it was the Countess of Biandrate, at her -husband's bidding, who came to buckle the gold spurs to the heels of the -new knight. - -For arms, when invited to choose a device, he announced that he would -adopt a variant of Facino's own: a dog's head argent on a field azure. - -At the conclusion a herald proclaimed a joust to be held in the Castle -of Porta Giovia on the morrow when the knight Bellarion would be given -opportunity of proving publicly how well he deserved the honour to which -he had acceded. - -It was a prospect which he did not relish. He knew himself without skill -at arms, in which he had served only an elementary apprenticeship during -those days at Abbiategrasso. - -Nor did it increase his courage that Carmagnola should come swaggering -towards him, his florid countenance wreathed in smiles of simulated -friendliness, to claim for the morrow the honour of running a course and -breaking a lance with his new brother-knight. - -He smiled, nevertheless, as falsely as Carmagnola himself. - -'You honour me, Ser Francesco. I will do my endeavour.' - -He noted the gleam in Carmagnola's eyes, and went, so soon as he was -free, in quest of Stoffel, with whom his friendship had ripened during -their journey from Travo. - -'Tell me, Werner, have you ever seen Carmagnola in the tilt-yard?' - -'Once, a year ago, in the Castle of Porta Giovia.' - -'Ha! A great hulking bull of a man.' - -'You describe him. He charges like a bull. He bore off the prize that -day against all comers. The Lord of Genestra had his thigh broken by -him.' - -'So, so!' said Bellarion, very thoughtful. 'It's my neck he means to -break to-morrow. I read it in his smile.' - -'A swaggerer,' said Stoffel. 'He'll take a heavy fall one day.' - -'Unfortunately that day is not to-morrow.' - -'Are you to ride against him, then?' There was concern in Stoffel's -voice. - -'So he believes. But I don't. I have a feeling that to-morrow I shall -not be in case to ride against any one. I have a fever coming on: the -result of hardships suffered on the way from Travo. Nature will compel -me, I suspect, to keep my bed to-morrow.' - -Stoffel considered him with grave eyes. 'Are you afraid?' - -'What else?' - -'And you confess it?' - -'It asks courage. Which shows that whilst afraid I am not a coward. Life -is full of paradox, I find.' - -Stoffel laughed. 'No need to protest your courage to me. I remember -Travo.' - -'There I had a chance to succeed. Here I have none. And who accepts such -odds is not a brave man, but a fool. I don't like broken bones; and -still less a broken reputation. I mean to keep what I've won against the -day when I may need it. Reputation, Stoffel, is a delicate bubble, -easily pricked. To be unhorsed in the lists is no proper fate for a -hero.' - -'You're a calculating rogue!' - -'That is the difference between me and Carmagnola, who is just a -superior man-at-arms. Each to his trade, Werner, and mine isn't of the -tilt-yard, however many knighthoods they bestow on me. Which is why -to-morrow I shall have the fever.' - -This resolve, however, went near to shipwreck that same evening. - -In the Hall of Galeazzo the Duke gave audience, which was to be followed -by a banquet. Bidden to this came the new knight Bellarion, trailing a -splendid houppelande of sapphire velvet edged with miniver that was -caught about his waist by a girdle of hammered silver. He had dressed -himself with studied care in the azure and argent of his new blazon. His -tunic, displayed at the breast, where the houppelande fell carelessly -open, and at the arms which protruded to the elbow from the wide short -sleeves of his upper garment, was of cloth of silver, whilst his hose -was in broad vertical stripes of alternating blue and white. Even his -thick black hair was held in a caul of fine silver thread that was -studded with sapphires. - -Imposingly tall, his youthful lankness dissembled by his dress, he drew -the eyes of the court as he advanced to pay homage to the Duke. - -Thereafter he was held awhile in friendly talk by della Torre and the -Archbishop. It was in escaping at last from these that he found himself -suddenly looking into the solemn eyes of the Princess Valeria, of whose -presence in Milan this was his first intimation. - -She stood a little apart from the main throng under the fretted -minstrel's gallery, at the end of the long hall, with the handsome Monna -Dionara for only companion. - -Startled, he turned first red, then white, under the shock of that -unexpected encounter. He had a feeling, under those inscrutable eyes, of -being detected, stripped of his fine trappings and audacious carriage, -and discovered for an upstart impostor, the son of nobody, impudently -ruffling it among the great. - -Thus an instant. Then, recovering his poise, he went forward with -leisurely dignity to make his bow, in which there was nothing rustic. - -She coloured slightly. Her eyes kindled, and she drew back as if to -depart. A single interjectory word escaped her: 'Audacious!' - -'Lady, I thank you for the word. It shall supply the motto I still lack: -"Audax," remembering that "Audaces fortuna juvat."' - -She had not been a woman had she not answered him. - -'Fortune has favoured you already. You prosper, sir.' - -'By God's grace, madonna.' - -'God has less to do with it, I think, than your own arts.' - -'My arts?' He questioned not the word, but the meaning she applied to -it. - -'Such arts as Judas used. You should study the end he made.' - -On that she would have gone, but the sharpness of his tone arrested her. - -'Madonna, if ever I practised those arts, it was in your service, and a -reproach is a poor requital.' - -'In my service!' Her eyes momentarily blazed. 'Was it in my service that -you came to spy upon me and betray me? Was it in my service that you -murdered Enzo Spigno?' She smiled with terrible bitterness. 'I have, you -see, no illusions left of the service that you did me.' - -'No illusions!' His voice was wistful. She reasoned much as he had -feared that she would reason. 'Lord God! You are filled with illusions; -the result of inference; and I warned you, madonna, that inference is -not your strength.' - -'You poor buffoon! Will you pretend that you did not murder Spigno?' - -'Of course I did.' - -The admission amazed her where she had expected denial. - -'You confess it? You dare to confess it?' - -'So that in future you may assert with knowledge what you have not -hesitated to assert upon mere suspicion. Shall I inform you of the -reason at the same time? I killed Count Spigno because he was the spy -sent by your uncle to betray you, so that your brother's ruin might be -accomplished.' - -'Spigno!' she cried in so loud a voice of indignation that her lady -clutched her arm to impose caution. 'You say that of Spigno? He was the -truest, bravest friend I ever knew, and his murder shall be atoned if -there is a justice in heaven. It is enough.' - -'Not yet, madonna. Consider only that one circumstance which intrigued -the Podestà of Casale: that at dead of night, when all Barbaresco's -household was asleep, only Count Spigno and I were afoot and fully -dressed. Into what tale does that fit besides the lie I told the -Podestà? Shall I tell you?' - -'Shall I listen to one who confesses himself a liar and murderer?' - -'Alas! Both: in the service of an ungracious lady. But hear now the -truth.' - -Briefly and swiftly he told it. - -'I am to believe that?' she asked him in sheer scorn. 'I am to be so -false to the memory of one who served me well and faithfully as to -credit this tale of his baseness upon no better word than yours? Why, it -is a tale which even if true must brand you for a beast. This man, -whatever he may have been, was moved to rescue you, you say, from -certain doom; and all the return you made him for that act of charity -was to stab him!' - -He wrung his hands in despair. 'Oh, the perversity of your reasoning! -But account me a beast if you will for the deed. Yet admit that the -intention was selfless. Judge the result. I killed Count Spigno to make -you safe, and safe it has made you. If I had other aims, if I were an -agent to destroy you, why did I not speak out in the Podestà's court?' - -'Because your unsupported word would hardly have sufficed to doom -persons of our condition.' - -'Which again is precisely why I killed Count Spigno: because if he had -lived, he would have supported it. Is it becoming clear?' - -'Clear? Shall I tell you what is clear? That you killed Spigno in -self-defence when he discovered you for the Judas that you were. Oh, -believe me, it is very clear. To make it so there are your lies to me, -your assertion that you were a poor nameless scholar who had imposed -himself upon the Marquis Theodore by the pretence of being Facino Cane's -son. A pretence you said it was. You'll deny that now.' - -Some of his assurance left him. 'No. I don't deny it.' - -'You'll tell me, perhaps, that you deceived the Lord Facino himself with -that pretence?' And now without waiting for an answer, she demolished -him with the batteries of her contempt. 'In so great a pretender even -that were possible. You pretended to lay down your life at Travo, yet -behold you resurrected to garner the harvest which that trick has earned -you.' - -'Oh, shameful!' he cried out, stirred to anger by a suspicion so -ignoble. - -'Are you not rewarded and knighted for the stir that was made by the -rumour of your death? You are to give proof of your knightly worth in -the lists to-morrow. It will be interesting.' - -On that she left him standing there with wounds in his soul that would -take long to heal. When at last he swung away, a keen eye observed the -pallor of his face and the loss of assurance from his carriage; the eye -of Facino's lady who approached him on her lord's arm. - -'You are pale, Bellarion,' she commented in pure malice, having watched -his long entertainment with the Princess of Montferrat. - -'Indeed, madonna, I am none so well.' - -'Not ailing, Bellarion?' There was some concern in Facino's tone and -glance. - -And there and then the rogue saw his opportunity and took it. - -'It will be nothing.' He passed a hand across his brow. - -'The excitement following upon the strain of these last days.' - -'You should be abed, boy.' - -'It is what I tell myself.' - -He allowed Facino to persuade him, and quietly departed. His sudden -illness was rumoured later at the banquet when his place remained -vacant, and consequently there was little surprise when it was known on -the morrow that a fever prevented him from bearing his part in the -jousts at Porta Giovia. - -By the doctor who ministered to him, he sent a message to Carmagnola of -deepest and courtliest regret that he was not permitted to rise and -break a lance with him. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -THE SIEGE OF ALESSANDRIA - - -Gabriello Maria Visconti's plans for the restoration of Ghibelline -authority suffered shipwreck, as was to be expected in a council mainly -composed of Guelphs. - -The weapon placed in their hands by Gabriello Maria for his own defeat -was the Marquis Theodore's demand, as the price of his alliance, that he -should be supported in the attempt to recover Genoa to Montferrat. - -Della Torre laughed the proposal to scorn. 'And thereby incur the -resentment of the King of France!' He developed that argument so -speciously that not even Facino, who was present, suspected that it did -not contain the true reason of della Torre's opposition. - -In hiring a French contingent to strengthen the army which he had led -against Buonterzo, Facino had shown the uses that could be made of -Boucicault. What Facino had done della Torre could do, nominally on the -Duke's behalf. He could hire lances from Boucicault to set against -Facino himself when the need for this arose. - -'Possibly,' ventured Gabriello, 'the surrender of Vercelli and certain -other guarantees would suffice to bring Montferrat into alliance.' - -But della Torre desired no such alliance. 'Surrender Vercelli! We have -surrendered too much already. It is time we sought alliances that will -restore to Milan some of the fiefs of which she has been robbed.' - -'And where,' Facino quietly asked him, 'will you find such allies?' - -Della Torre hesitated. He knew as well as any man that policies may be -wrecked by premature disclosure. If his cherished scheme of alliance -with Malatesta of Rimini were suspected, Facino, forewarned, would arm -himself to frustrate it. He lowered his glance. - -'I am not prepared to say where they may be found. But I am prepared to -say that they are not to be found in Theodore of Montferrat at the price -demanded by that Prince.' - -Gabriello Maria was left to make what excuses he could to the Marquis -Theodore; and the Marquis Theodore received them in no pleasant manner. -He deemed himself slighted, and said so; hinting darkly that Milan -counted enemies enough already without wantonly seeking to add to them. -Thus in dudgeon he returned to Montferrat. - -Della Torre's patient reticence was very shortly justified. - -In the early days of June came an urgent and pitiful appeal from the -Duke's brother, Filippo Maria, Count of Pavia, for assistance against -the Vignati of Lodi, who were ravaging his territories and had seized -the city of Alessandria. - -The Duke was in his closet with della Torre and Lonate when that letter -reached him. He scowled and frowned and grunted over the parchment -awhile, then tossed it to della Torre. - -'A plague on him that wrote it! Can you read the scrawl, Antonio?' - -Della Torre took it up. 'It is from your brother, highness; the Lord -Filippo Maria.' - -'That skin of lard!' Gian Maria was contemptuous. 'If he remembers my -existence, he must be in need of something.' - -Della Torre gravely read the letter aloud. The Prince guffawed once or -twice over a piteous phrase, meanwhile toying with the head of a great -mastiff that lay stretched at his feet. - -He guffawed more heartily than ever at the end, the malice of his nature -finding amusement in the calamities of his brother. 'His Obesity of -Pavia is disturbed at last! Let the slothful hog exert himself, and -sweat away some of his monstrous bulk.' - -'Do not laugh yet, my lord.' Della Torre's lean, crafty, swarthy face -was grave. 'I have ever warned you against the ambition of Vignate, and -that it would not be satisfied with the reconquest of Lodi. He is in -arms, not so much against your brother as against the house of -Visconti.' - -'God's bones!' Goggle-eyed, the Duke stared at his adviser. Then to vent -unreasoning fury he rose and caught the dog a vicious kick which drove -it yelping from him. 'By Hell, am I to go in arms against Vignate? Is -that your counsel?' - -'No less.' - -'And this campaign against Buonterzo scarcely ended! Am I to have -nothing but wars and feuds and strife to distract my days? Am I to spend -all in quelling brigandage? By the Passion! I'd as soon be Duke of Hell -as reign in Milan.' - -'In that case,' said della Torre, 'do nothing, and the rest may follow.' - -'Devil take you, Antonio!' He caught up a hawk-lure from the table, and -set himself to strip it as he talked, scattering the feathers about the -room. 'Curb him, you say? Curb this damned thief of Lodi? How am I to -curb him? The French lances are gone back to Boucicault. The -parsimonious fathers of this miserly city were in haste to dismiss them. -They think of nothing but ducats, may their souls perish! They think -more of ducats than of their duke.' Inconsequently, peevishly, he ranted -on, reducing the hawk-lure to rags the while, and showing the crafty -della Torre his opportunity. - -'Vignate,' he said at last, when the Duke ceased, 'can be in no great -strength when all is reckoned. Facino's own condotta should fully -suffice to whip him out of Alessandria and back to Lodi.' - -Gian Maria moved restlessly about the room. - -'What if it should not? What if Facino should be broken by Vignate? What -then? Vignate will be at the gates of Milan.' - -'He might be if we could not prepare for the eventuality.' - -With a sudden curious eagerness Gian Maria glared at his mentor. 'Can -we? In God's name, can we? If we could ...' He checked. But the sudden -glow of hate and evil hope in his prominent pale eyes showed how he was -rising to the bait. - -Della Torre judged the moment opportune. 'We can,' he answered firmly. - -'How, man? How?' - -'In alliance with Malatesta your highness would be strong enough to defy -all comers.' - -'Malatesta!' The Duke leapt as if stung. But instantly he curbed -himself. The loose embryonic features tightened, reflecting the -concentration of the embryonic wicked mind within. 'Malatesta, eh?' His -tone was musing. He let himself drop once more into his broad armchair, -and sat there, cross-legged, pondering. - -Della Torre moved softly to his side, and lowered his voice to an -impressive note. - -'Indeed, your highness should consider whether you will not in any event -bring in Malatesta so soon as Facino has departed on this errand.' - -The handsome, profligate Lonate, lounging, a listener by the window, -cleared up all ambiguity: 'And so make sure that this upstart does not -return to trouble you again.' - -Gian Maria's head sank a little between his shoulders. Here was his -chance to rid himself for all time of the tyrannical tutelage of that -condottiero, made strong by popular support. - -'You speak as if sure that Malatesta will come.' - -Della Torre put his cards on the table at last. 'I am. I have his word -that he will accept a proposal of alliance from your highness.' - -'You have his word!' The ever-ready suspicions of a weak mind were -stirring. - -'I took his feeling against the hour when your potency might need a -friend.' - -'And the price?' - -Della Torre spread his hands. 'Malatesta has ambitions for his daughter. -If she were Duchess of Milan ...' - -'Is that a condition?' The Duke's voice was sharp. - -'A contingency only,' della Torre untruthfully assured him. 'Yet if -realised the alliance would be consolidated. It would become a family -affair.' - -'Give me air! Let me think.' He rose, thrusting della Torre away by a -sweep of his thin arm. - -Ungainly in his gaudy red and white, shuffling his feet as he went, he -crossed to the window where Lonate made way for him. There he stood a -moment looking out, whilst between Lonate and della Torre a look of -intelligence was flashed. - -Suddenly the boy swung round again, and his grotesque countenance was -flushed. 'By God and His Saints! What thought does it ask?' He laughed, -slobberingly, at the picture in his mind of a Facino Cane ruined beyond -redemption. Nor could he perceive, poor fool, that he would be but -exchanging one yoke for another, probably heavier. - -Still laughing, he dismissed della Torre and Lonate, and sent for -Facino. When the condottiero came, he was given Filippo Maria's letter, -which he spelled out with difficulty, being little more of a scholar -than the Duke. - -'It is grave,' he said when he had reached the end. - -'You mean that Vignate is to be feared?' - -'Not so long as he is alone. But how long will he so continue? What if -he should be joined by Estorre Visconti and the other malcontents? -Singly they matter nothing. United they become formidable. And this bold -hostility of Vignate's may be the signal for a league.' - -'What then?' - -'Smash Vignate and drive him out of Alessandria before it becomes a -rallying-ground for your enemies.' - -'About it, then,' rasped the Duke. 'You have the means.' - -'With the Burgundians enlisted after Travo, my condotta stands at two -thousand three hundred men. If the civic militia is added ...' - -'It is required for the city's defence against Estorre and the other -roving insurgents.' - -Facino did not argue the matter. - -'I'll do without it, then.' - -He set out next day at early morning, and by nightfall, the half of that -march to Alessandria accomplished, he brought his army, wearied and -exhausted by the June heat, to rest under the red walls of Pavia. - -To proceed straight against the very place which Vignate had seized and -held was a direct course of action in conflict with ideas which -Bellarion did not hesitate to lay before the war-experienced officers -composing Facino's council. He prefaced their exposition by laying down -the principle, a little didactically, that the surest way to defeat an -opponent is to assault him at the weakest point. So much Facino and his -officers would have conceded on the battle-ground itself. But -Bellarion's principle involved a wider range, including the enemy's -position before ever battle was joined so as to ensure that the -battle-ground itself should be the enemy's weakest point. The course he -now urged entailed an adoption of the strategy employed by the Athenians -against the Thebans in the Peloponnesian war, a strategy which Bellarion -so much admired and was so often to apply. - -In its application now, instead of attacking Alessandria behind whose -walls the enemy lay in strength, he would have invaded Vignate's own -temporarily unguarded Tyranny of Lodi. - -Facino laughed a little at his self-sufficiency, and, emboldened by -that, Carmagnola took it upon himself to put the fledgling down. - -'It is in your nature, I think, to avoid the direct attack.' He sneered -as he spoke, having in mind the jousts at Milan and the manner in which -Bellarion had cheated him of the satisfaction upon which he counted. -'You forget, sir, that your knighthood places you under certain -obligations.' - -'But not, I hope,' said Bellarion innocently, 'under the obligation of -being a fool.' - -'Do you call me that?' Carmagnola's sudden suavity was in itself a -provocation. - -'You boast yourself the champion of the direct attack. It is the method -of the bull. But I have never heard it argued from this that the bull is -intelligent even among animals.' - -'So that now you compare me with a bull?' Carmagnola flushed a little, -conscious that Koenigshofen and Stoffel were smiling. - -'Quiet!' growled Facino. 'We are not here to squabble among ourselves. -Your assumptions, Bellarion, sometimes become presumptions.' - -'So you thought on the Trebbia.' - -Facino brought his great fist down upon the table. 'In God's name! Will -you be pert? You interrupt me. Battering-ram tactics are not in my mind. -I choose a different method. But I attack Alessandria none the less, -because Vignate and his men are there.' - -Discreetly Bellarion said no more, suppressing the argument that by -reducing unguarded Lodi and restoring it to the crown of Milan from -which it had been ravished, a moral effect might be produced of -far-reaching effect upon the fortunes of the duchy. - -After a conference with Filippo Maria in his great castle of Pavia, -Facino resumed his march, his army now increased by six hundred Italian -mercenaries under a soldier of fortune named Giasone Trotta, whom -Filippo Maria had hired. He took with him a considerable train of siege -artillery, of mangonels, rimbaults, and cannon, to which the Count of -Pavia had materially added. - -Nevertheless, he did not approach Alessandria within striking distance -of such weapons. He knew the strength to withstand assault of that -fortress-city, built some three hundred years before on the confines of -the Pavese and Montferrat to be a Guelphic stronghold in the struggle -between Church and Empire. Derisively then the Ghibellines had dubbed it -a fortress of straw. But astride of the river Tanaro, above its junction -with the Bormida, this Alessandria of Straw had successfully defied -them. - -Facino proposed to employ the very strength of her strategic position -for the undoing of her present garrison if it showed fight. And -meanwhile he would hem the place about, so as to reduce it by -starvation. - -Crossing the Po somewhere in the neighbourhood of Bassignana, he marched -up the left bank of the Tanaro to Pavone, a village in the plain by the -river just within three miles of Alessandria. There he took up his -quarters, and thence on a radius of some three miles he drew a cordon -throughout that low-lying, insalubrious land, intersected with -watercourses, where only rice-fields flourished. This cordon crossed the -two rivers just above their junction, swept thence to Marengo, -recrossing the Bormida, ran to Aulara in the south and on to -Casalbagliano in the West, just beyond which it crossed the Tanaro -again, and, by way of San Michele in the north, went on to complete the -circle at Pavone. - -So swift had been the movement that the first intimation to the -Alessandrians that they were besieged was from those who, issuing from -the city on the morrow, were stopped at the lines and ordered to return. - -From information obtained from these, in many cases under threat of -torture, it became clear that the populous city was indifferently -victualled, and unequal, therefore, to a protracted resistance. And this -was confirmed during the first week by the desperate efforts made by -Vignate, who was raging like a trapped wolf in Alessandria. Four times -he attempted to break out in force. But within the outer circle, and -close to the city so as to keep it under observation, Facino had drawn a -ring of scouts, whose warning in each case enabled him to concentrate -promptly at the point assailed. The advantage lay with Facino in these -engagements, since the cavalry upon which Vignate chiefly depended found -it impossible to operate successfully in those swampy plains. Over -ground into which the horses sank to their fetlocks at every stride, a -cavalry charge was a _brutum fulmen_. Horses were piked by -Koenigshofen's foot, and formations smashed and hurled back by an enemy -upon whom their impact was no more than a spent blow. - -If they escaped it was because Facino would make no prisoners. He would -not willingly relieve Alessandria of a single mouth that would help to -eat up its power of endurance. For the same reason he enjoined it upon -his officers that they should be as sparing as possible of life. - -'That is to say, of human life,' said Bellarion, raising his voice in -council for the first time since last rebuked. - -They looked at him, not understanding. - -'What other life is in question?' asked Carmagnola. - -'There are the horses. If allowed to survive, they may be eaten in the -last extremity.' - -They acted upon that reminder when Vignate made his next sally. Facino -did not wait as hitherto to receive the charge upon his pikes, but raked -the enemy ranks, during their leisurely advance and again during their -subsequent retreat with low-aimed arbalest bolts which slew only horses. - -Whether Vignate perceived the reason, or whether he came to realise that -the ground was not suitable for cavalry, his fourth sally, to the north -in the direction of San Michele, was made on foot. He had some two -thousand men in his following, and had they been lightly armed and -properly led it is probable that they would have broken through, for the -opposing force was materially less. But Vignate, unaccustomed to -handling infantry, committed the error of the French at Agincourt. He -employed dismounted men-at-arms in all the panoply in which normally -they rode to battle. Their fate was similar to that of the French on -that earlier occasion. Toiling over the clammy ground in their heavy -armour, their advance became leaden-footed, and by the time they reached -Facino's lines they were exhausted men easily repulsed, and as glad as -they were surprised to escape death or capture. - -After that failure, three representatives of the Commune of Alessandria, -accompanied by one of Vignate's captains, presented themselves at -Facino's quarters in the house of the Curate of Pavone, temporarily -appropriated by the condottiero. - -They were ushered into a plain yellow-washed room, bare of all -decoration save that of a crudely painted wooden crucifix which hung -upon the wall above a straight-backed wooden settle. An oblong table of -common pine stood before this settle; a writing-pulpit, also of pine, -placed under one of the two windows by which the place was lighted, and -four rough stools and a shallow armchair completed the furniture. - -The only gentle touch about that harsh interior was supplied by the -sweet-smelling lemon verbena and rosemary mingled in the fresh rushes -with which the floor was copiously strewn to dissemble its earthen -nudity. - -Carmagnola, showily dressed as usual in blue and crimson, with -marvellously variegated hose and a jewelled caul confining his flaxen -hair, had appropriated the armchair, and his gorgeous presence seemed to -fill the place. Stoffel, Koenigshofen, Giasone Trotta, and Vougeois, who -commanded the Burgundians, occupied the stools and afforded him a sober -background. Bellarion leaned upon the edge of the settle, where Facino -sat alone, square-faced and stern, whilst the envoys invited him to -offer terms for the surrender of the city. - -'The Lord Count of Pavia,' he told them, 'does not desire to mulct too -heavily those of his Alessandrian subjects who have remained loyal. He -realises the constraint of which they may have been the victims, and he -will rest content with a payment of fifty thousand florins to indemnify -him for the expenses of this expedition.' The envoys breathed more -freely. But Facino had not yet done. 'For myself I shall require another -fifty thousand florins for distribution among my followers, to ransom -the city from pillage.' - -The envoys were aghast. 'One hundred thousand gold florins!' cried one. -'My lord, it will ...' - -He raised his hand for silence. 'That as regards the Commune of -Alessandria. Now, as concerns the Lord Vignate, who has so rashly -ventured upon this aggression. He is allowed until noon to-morrow to -march out of Alessandria with his entire following, but leaving behind -all arms, armour, horses, bullocks, and war material of whatsoever kind. -Further, he will enter into a bond for one hundred thousand florins, to -be paid either by himself personally or by the Commune of Lodi to the -Lord Count of Pavia's city of Alessandria, to indemnify the latter for -the damages sustained by this occupation. And my Lord Vignate will -further submit to the occupation of the city of Lodi by an army of not -more than two thousand men, who will be housed and fed and salaried at -the city of Lodi's charges until the indemnity is paid. With the further -condition that if payment is not made within one month, the occupying -army shall take it by putting the city to sack.' - -The officer sent by Vignate, a stiff, black-bearded fellow named -Corsana, flushed indignantly. 'These terms are very harsh,' he -complained. - -'Salutary, my friend,' Facino corrected him. 'They are intended to show -the Lord Vignate that brigandage is not always ultimately profitable.' - -'You think he will agree?' The man's air was truculent. The three -councillors looked scared. - -Facino smiled grimly. 'If he has an alternative, let him take advantage -of it. But let him understand that the offer of these terms is for -twenty-four hours only. After that I shall not let him off so lightly.' - -'Lightly!' cried Corsano in anger, and would have added more but that -Facino cropped the intention. - -'You have leave to go.' Thus, royally, Facino dismissed them. - -They did not return within the twenty-four hours, nor as day followed -day did Vignate make any further sign. Time began to hang heavily on the -hands of the besiegers, and Facino's irritation grew daily, particularly -when an attack of the gout came to imprison him in the cheerless house -of the Curate of Pavone. - -One evening a fortnight after the parley and nearly a month after the -commencement of the siege, as Facino sat at supper with his officers, -all save Stoffel, who was posted at Casalbagliano, the condottiero, who -was growing impatient of small things, inveighed against the quality of -the food. - -It was Giasone Trotta, to whose riders fell the task of provisioning the -army, who answered him. 'Faith! If the siege endures much longer, it is -we who will be starved by it. My men have almost cleaned up the -countryside for a good ten miles in every direction.' - -It was a jocular exaggeration, but it provoked an explosion from Facino. - -'God confound me if I understand how they hold out. With two thousand -ravenous soldiers in the place, a week should have brought them to -starvation.' - -Koenigshofen thoughtfully stroked his square red beard. 'It's colossally -mysterious,' said he. - -'Mysterious, aye! That's what plagues me. They must be fed from -outside.' - -'That is quite impossible!' Carmagnola was emphatic. As Facino's -lieutenant, it fell to his duty to see that the cordon was properly -maintained. - -'Yet what is the alternative,' wondered Bellarion, 'unless they are -eating one another?' - -Carmagnola's blue eyes flashed upon him almost malevolently for this -further reflection upon his vigilance. - -'You set me riddles,' he said disdainfully. - -'And you're not good at riddles, Francesco,' drawled Bellarion, meeting -malice with malice. 'I should have remembered it.' - -Carmagnola heaved himself up. 'Now, by the Bones of God, what do you -mean?' - -The ears of the ill-humoured Facino had caught a distant sound. 'Quiet, -you bellowing calf!' he snapped. 'Listen! Listen! Who comes at that -breakneck speed?' - -It was a hot, breathless night of July, and the windows stood wide to -invite a cooling draught. As the four men, so bidden, grew attentive, -they caught from the distance the beat of galloping hooves. - -'It's not from Alessandria,' said Koenigshofen. - -'No, no,' grunted Facino, and thereafter they listened in silence. - -There was no reason for it save such colour as men's imaginings will -give a sound breaking the deathly stillness of a hot dark night, yet -each conceived and perhaps intercommunicated a feeling that these hooves -approaching so rapidly were harbingers of portents. - -Carmagnola went to the door as two riders clattered down the village -street, and, seeing the tall figure silhouetted against the light from -within, they slackened pace. - -'The Lord Facino Cane of Biandrate? Where is he quartered?' - -'Here!' roared Carmagnola, and at the single word the horses were pulled -up with a rasping of hooves that struck fire from the ground. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -VISCONTI FAITH - - -If Facino Cane's eyes grew wide in astonishment to see his countess -ushered into that mean chamber by Carmagnola, wider still did they grow -to behold the man who accompanied her and to consider their inexplicable -conjunction. For this man was Giovanni Pusterla of Venegono, cousin to -that Pusterla who had been castellan of Monza, and who by Gian Maria's -orders had procured the assassination of Gian Maria's mother. - -The rest is a matter of history upon which I have already touched. - -In a vain attempt to mask his own matricide, to make the crime appear as -the work of another, Gian Maria had seized the unfortunate castellan who -had served his evil will too faithfully and charging him with the crime -caused him barbarously and without trial to be done to death. -Thereafter, because he perceived that this did not suffice to turn the -public mind from the conviction of his own horrible guilt, Gian Maria -had vowed the extermination of the Pusterla family, as a blood-offering -to the manes of his murdered mother. It was a Pusterla whom he had -hunted with his dogs into the arms of Bellarion in the meadows of -Abbiategrasso, and that was the fifth innocent member of the family whom -he had done to death in satisfaction of his abominable vow. - -This Pusterla of Venegono, who now led the Countess Beatrice into her -husband's presence, was a slight but vigorous and moderately tall man of -not more than thirty, despite the grey that so abundantly mingled with -his thick black hair. His shaven countenance was proud and resolute, -with a high-bridged nose flanked perhaps too closely by dark eyes that -glowed and flashed as in reflection of his superabundant energy of body -and of spirit. - -Between himself and Facino there was esteem; but no other link to -account for his sudden appearance as an escort to the Lady Beatrice. - -From the settle which he occupied, his ailing leg stretched upon it, the -amazed Facino greeted them by a rough soldier's oath on a note of -interrogation. - -The Countess, white and lovely, swept towards him. - -'You are ailing, Facino!' Concern charged her murmuring voice as she -stooped to receive his kiss. - -His countenace brightened, but his tone was almost testy. - -To discuss his ailments now was but to delay the explanation that he -craved. 'That I ail is no matter. That you should be here ... What -brings you, Bice, and with Venegono there?' - -'Aye, we take you by surprise,' she answered him. 'Yet Heaven knows -there would be no need for that if ever you had heeded me, if ever you -had used your eyes and your wits as I bade you.' - -'Will you tell me what brings you, and leave the rest?' - -She hesitated a moment, then swung imperially to her travelling -companion. - -'Tell him, Messer da Venegono.' - -Venegono responded instantly. He spoke rapidly, using gestures freely, -his face an ever-shifting mirror of his feelings, so that at once you -knew him for a brisk-minded, impulsive man. 'We are here to speak of -what is happening in Milan. Do you know nothing of it, my lord?' - -'In Milan? Despatches reach me weekly from his highness. They report -nothing that is not reassuring.' - -The Countess laughed softly, bitterly. Venegono plunged on. - -'Is it reassuring to you that the Malatesta of Rimini, Pandolfo, and his -brother Carlo are there with an army five thousand strong?' - -Facino was genuinely startled. 'They are moving against Milan?' - -Again the Countess laughed, and this time Venegono laughed with her. - -'Against it?' And he launched his thunderbolt. 'They are there at the -express invitation of the Duke.' Without pausing for breath he completed -the tale. 'On the second of the month the Lady Antonia Malatesta was -married to Duke Gian Maria, and her father has been created Governor of -Milan.' - -A dead silence followed, broken at last by Facino. The thing was utterly -incredible. He refused to believe it, and said so with an oath. - -'My lord, I tell you of things that I have witnessed,' Benegono -insisted. - -'Witnessed? Have you been in Milan? You?' - -Venegono's features twisted into a crooked smile. 'After all there are -still enough staunch Ghibellines in Milan to afford me shelter. I take -my precautions, Lord Count. But I do not run from danger. No Pusterla -ever did, which is why this hell-hound Duke has made so many victims.' - -Appalled, Facino looked at him from under heavy brows. Then his lady -spoke, a faint smile of bitter derision on her pale face. - -'You'll understand now why I am here, Facino. You'll see that it was no -longer safe in Milan for Facino's wife: the wife of the man whose ruin -is determined and to be purchased by the Duke at all costs: even at the -cost of putting his neck under Malatesta's heel.' - -Facino's mind, however, was still entirely absorbed by the main issue. - -'But Gabriello?' he cried. - -'Gabriello, my lord,' said Venegono promptly, 'is as much a victim, and -has been taken as fully by surprise, as you and every Ghibelline in -Milan. It is all the work of della Torre. To what end he strives only -himself and Satan know. Perhaps he will lead Gian Maria to destruction -in the end. It may be his way of resuming the old struggle for supremacy -between Visconti and Torriani. Anyhow, his is the guiding brain.' - -'But did that weak bastard Gabriello never raise a hand ...' - -'Gabriello, my lord, has gone to earth for his own safety's sake in the -Castle of Porta Giovia. There Malatesta is besieging him, and the city -has been converted into an armed camp labouring to reduce its own -citadel. That monster Gian Maria has set a price upon the head of the -brother who has so often shielded him from the just wrath of the Commune -and the people. There is a price, too, upon the heads of his cousins -Antonio and Francesco Visconti, who are with Gabriello in the fortress, -together with many other Ghibellines among whom my own cousin Giovanni -Pusterla. Lord!' he ended passionately, 'if the great Galeazzo could but -come to life again, to see the filthy shambles his horrible son has made -of the great realm he built!' - -Silence followed. Facino, his head lowered, his brows knitted, was -drawing a geometrical figure on the table with the point of a knife. -Presently whilst so engaged he spoke, slowly, sorrowfully. - -'I am the last of all those condottieri who were Gian Galeazzo's -brothers-in-arms; the last of those who helped him build up the great -state which his degenerate son daily dishonours. His faithless, -treacherous nature drove the others away from him one by one, each -taking some part of his dominions to make an independent state for -himself! I alone have remained, loyally to serve and support his -tottering throne, making war upon my brother condottieri in his defence, -suffering for him and from him, for the sake of his great father who was -my friend, for the sake of the trust which his father left me when he -died. And now I have my wages. I am sent to restore Alessandria to the -pestilential hands of these false Visconti from which it has been -wrested, and whilst I am about this errand, my place is usurped by the -greatest Guelph in Italy, and measures are taken to prevent my ever -returning.' His voice almost broke. - -There was a long-drawn sigh from the Countess. 'There is no need to tell -you more,' she murmured. 'You begin to open your eyes, and to see for -yourself at last.' - -And then Venegono was speaking. - -'I come to you, Facino, in the name of all the Ghibellines of Milan, who -look to you as to their natural leader, who trust you and have no hope -save in you. Before this Guelphic outrage they cringe in terror of the -doom that creeps upon them. Already Milan is a city of blood and horror. -You are our party's only hope, Milan's only hope in this dreadful hour.' - -Facino buried the knife-blade deep in the table with sudden violence, -and left it quivering there. He raised at last his eyes. They were -blood-injected, and the whole expression of his face had changed. The -good-nature of which it habitually wore the stamp had been entirely -effaced. - -'Let God but heal this leg of mine,' he said, 'and from my hands the -Visconti shall eat the fruits of treachery until they choke them.' - -He stretched out his hand as he spoke towards the crucifix that hung -upon the wall, making of his threat a solemn vow. - -Bellarion, looking beyond him, at the Countess, read in the covert -exultation of her face her assumption that her greed for empire was at -last promised gratification and her insensibility that it should be -purchased on terms that broke her husband's heart. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -THE VICTUALLERS - - -In the torrid heat of the following noontide, Bellarion rode alone to -visit Stoffel at Casalbagliano. He did not go round by the lines, but -straight across country, which brought him past the inner posts of -surveillance and as close under the red walls of Alessandria as it was -safe to go. - -The besieged city seemed to sleep in the breathless heat of the -low-lying lands upon which it had been reared. Saving an occasional -flash of steel from the weapon or breastplate of some sentinel on the -battlements, there was no sign of a life which starvation must by now -have reduced to the lowest ebb. - -As Bellarion rode he meditated upon the odd course of unpremeditated -turbulence which he had run since leaving the seclusion of Cigliano a -year ago. He had travelled far indeed from his original intention, and -he marvelled now at the ease with which he had adapted himself to each -new set of circumstances he met, applying in worldly practice all that -he had learnt in theory by his omnivorous studies. From a mental vigour -developed by those studies he drew an increasing consciousness of -superiority over those with whom fate associated him, a state of mind -which did not bring him to respect his fellow man. - -Greed seemed to Bellarion, that morning, the dominant impulse of worldly -life. He saw it and all the stark, selfish evil of it wherever he turned -his retrospective glance. Most cruelly, perhaps, had he seen it last -night in the Countess Beatrice, who dignified it--as was common--by the -name of ambition. She would be well served, he thought, if that ambition -were gratified in such a way that she should curse its fruit with every -hour of life that might be hers thereafter. Thus might she yet save her -silly, empty soul. - -He was drawn abruptly from the metaphysical to the physical by two -intrusions upon his consciousness. The first was a spent arbalest bolt, -which struck the crupper of his horse and made it bound forward, a -reminder to Bellarion that he had all but got within range of those red -walls. The second was a bright object gleaming a yard or two ahead of -him along the track he followed. - -The whole of Facino's army might have passed that way, seeing in that -bright object a horseshoe and nothing more. But Bellarion's mind was of -a different order. He read quite fluently in that iron shoe that it was -cast from the hind hoof of a mule within the last twenty-four hours. - -Two nights ago a thunderstorm had rolled down from the Montferrine -hills, which were now hazily visible in the distance on his right. Had -the shoe been cast before that, rust must have dimmed its polished -brightness; yet, as closer examination confirmed, no single particle of -rust had formed upon it. Bellarion asked himself a question: Since no -strangers were allowed to come or go within the lines, what man of -Facino's had during the last two days ridden to a point so barely out of -range of an arbalest bolt from the city? And why had he ridden a mule? - -He had dismounted, and he now picked up the shoe to make a further -discovery. A thick leather-cased pad attached to the underside of it. - -He did not mount again, but leading his horse he proceeded slowly on -foot along the track that led to Casalbagliano. - -It was an hour later when the outposts challenged him on the edge of the -village. He found Stoffel sitting down to dinner when he reached the -house where the Swiss was quartered. - -'You keep an indifferent watch somewhere between here and Aulara,' was -Bellarion's greeting. - -'You often bewilder me,' Stoffel complained. - -'Here's to enlighten you, then.' - -Bellarion slapped down the shoe on the table, adding precise information -as to where he had found it and his reasons for supposing it so recently -cast. - -'And that's not all. For half a mile along that track there was a white -trail in the grass, which investigation proved to be wheaten flour, -dribbled from some sack that went that way perhaps last night.' - -Stoffel was aghast. He had not sufficient men, he confessed, to guard -every yard of the line, and, after all, the nights could be very dark -when there was no moon. - -'I'll answer for it that you shall have more men to-night,' Bellarion -promised him, and, without waiting to dine, rode back in haste to -Pavone. - -He came there upon a council of war debating an assault upon Alessandria -now that starvation must have enfeebled the besieged. - -In his present impatience, Facino could not even wait until his leg, -which was beginning to mend, should be well again. Therefore he was -delegating the command to Carmagnola, and considering with him, as well -as with Koenigshofen and Giasone Trotta, the measures to be taken. Monna -Beatrice was at her siesta above-stairs in the house's best room. - -Bellarion's news brought them vexation and dismay. - -Soon, however, Carmagnola was grandiosely waving these aside. - -'It matters little now that we have decided upon assault.' - -'It matters everything, I think,' said Bellarion, and so drew upon -himself the haughty glare of Facino's magnificent lieutenant. Always, it -seemed, must those two be at odds. 'Your decision rests upon the -assumption that the garrison is weakened by starvation. My discovery -alters that.' - -Facino was nodding slowly, gloomily, when Carmagnola, a reckless gambler -in military matters, ready now to stake all upon the chance of -distinction which his leader's illness afforded him, broke in -assertively. - -'We'll take the risk of that. You are now in haste, my lord, to finish -here, and there is danger for you in delay.' - -'More danger surely in precipitancy,' said Bellarion, and so put -Carmagnola in a rage. - -'God rid me of your presumption!' he cried. 'At every turn you intrude -your green opinions upon seasoned men of war.' - -'He was right at Travo,' came the guttural tones of Koenigshofen, 'and -he may be right again.' - -'And in any case,' added Trotta, who knew the fortifications of -Alessandria better than any of them, 'if there is any doubt about the -state of the garrison, it would be madness to attack the place. We might -pay a heavy price to resolve that doubt.' - -'Yet how else are we to resolve it?' Carmagnola demanded, seeing in -delays the loss of his own opportunity. - -'That,' said Bellarion quietly, 'is what you should be considering.' - -'Considering?' Carmagnola would have added more, but Facino's suddenly -raised hand arrested him. - -'Considering, yes,' said the condottiero. 'The situation is changed by -what Bellarion tells us, and it is for us to study it anew.' - -Reluctant though he might be to put this further curb upon his -impatience, yet he recognized the necessity. - -Not so, however, his lieutenant. 'But Bellarion may be mistaken. This -evidence, after all ...' - -'Was hardly necessary,' Bellarion interrupted. 'If Vignate had really -been in the straits we have supposed, he must have continued, and ever -more desperately, his attempts to fight his way out. Having found means -to obtain supplies from without, he has remained inactive because he -wishes you to believe him starving so that you may attack him. When he -has damaged and weakened you by hurling back your assault, then he will -come out in force to complete your discomfiture.' - -'You have it all clear!' sneered Carmagnola. 'And you see it all in the -cast shoe of a mule and a few grains of wheat.' He swung about to the -others, flinging wide his arms. 'Listen to him! Learn our trade, sirs! -Go to school to Master Bellarion.' - -'Indeed, you might do worse,' cut in Facino, and so struck him into -gaping, angry amazement. 'Bellarion reasons soundly enough to put your -wits to shame. When I listen to him--God help me!--I begin to ask myself -if the gout is in my leg or my brains. Continue, boy. What else have you -to say?' - -'Nothing more until we capture one of these victualling parties. That -may be possible to-night, if you double or even treble Stoffel's force.' - -'Possible it may be,' said Facino. 'But how exactly do you propose that -it be done?' - -Bellarion took a stick of charcoal and on the pine board drew lines to -elucidate his plan. 'Here the track runs. From this the party cannot -stray by more than a quarter-mile on either side; for here the river, -and there another watercourse, thickly fringed with young poplars, will -prevent it. I would post the men in an unbroken double line, along an -arc drawn across this quarter-mile from watercourse to watercourse. At -some point of that arc the party must strike it, as fish strike a net. -When that happens, the two ends of the arc will swing inwards until they -meet, thus completely enclosing their prey against the chance of any -single man escaping to give the alarm.' - -Facino nodded, smiling through his gloom. 'Does any one suggest a better -way?' - -After a pause it was Carmagnola who spoke. 'That plan should answer as -well as any other.' Though he yielded, vanity would not permit him to do -so graciously. 'If you approve it, my lord, I will see the necessary -measures taken.' - -But Facino pursed his lips in doubt. 'I think,' he said after a moment's -pause, 'that Bellarion might be given charge of the affair. He has it -all so clear.' - -Thus it fell out that before evening Bellarion was back again in -Stoffel's quarters. To Casalbagliano also were moved after night had -fallen two hundred Germans from Koenigshofen's command at Aulara. Not -until then did Bellarion cast that wide human arc of his athwart the -track exactly midway between Casalbagliano and Alessandria, from the -Tanaro on the one side to the lesser watercourse on the other. Himself -he took up his station in the arc's middle, on the track itself. Stoffel -was given charge of the right wing, and another Swiss named Wenzel -placed in command of the left. - -The darkness deepened as the night advanced. Again a thunderstorm was -descending from the hills of Montferrat, and the clouds blotted out the -stars until the hot gloom wrapped them about like black velvet. Even so, -however, Bellarion's order was that the men should lie prone, lest their -silhouettes should be seen against the sky. - -Thus in utter silence they waited through the breathless hours that were -laden by a storm which would not break. Midnight came and went and -Bellarion's hopes were beginning to sink, when at last a rhythmical -sound grew faintly audible; the soft beat of padded hooves upon the -yielding turf. Scarcely had they made out the sound than the mule train, -advancing in almost ghostly fashion, was upon them. - -The leader of the victualling party, who knowing himself well within the -ordinary lines had for some time now been accounting himself secure, was -startled to find his way suddenly barred by a human wall which appeared -to rise out of the ground. He seized the bridle of his mule in a firmer -grip and swung the beast about even as he yelled an order. There was a -sudden stampede, cries and imprecations in the dark, and the train was -racing back through the night, presently to find its progress barred by -a line of pikes. This way and that the victuallers flung in their -desperate endeavours to escape. But relentlessly and in utter silence -the net closed about them. Narrower and narrower and ever denser grew -the circle that enclosed them, until they were hemmed about in no more -space than would comfortably contain them. - -Then at last lights gleamed. A dozen lanterns were uncovered that -Bellarion might take stock of his capture. The train consisted of a -score of mules with bulging panniers, and half a dozen men captained by -a tall, loose-limbed fellow with a bearded, pock-marked face. Sullenly -they stood in the lantern-light, realising the futility of struggling -and already in fancy feeling the rope about their gullets. - -Bellarion asked no questions. To Stoffel, who had approached him as the -ring closed, he issued his orders briefly. They were surprising, but -Stoffel never placed obedience in doubt. A hundred men under Wenzel to -remain in charge of the mules at the spot where they had been captured -until Bellarion should make known his further wishes; twenty men to -escort the muleteers, disarmed and pinioned, back to Casalbagliano; the -others to be dismissed to their usual quarters. - -A half-hour later in the kitchen of the peasant's house on the outskirts -of Casalbagliano, where Stoffel had taken up his temporary residence, -Bellarion and the captured leader faced each other. - -The prisoner, his wrists pinioned behind him, stood between two Swiss -pikemen, whilst Bellarion holding a candle level with his face scanned -those pallid, pock-marked features which seemed vaguely familiar. - -'We've met before, I think ...' Bellarion broke off. It was the beard -that had made an obstacle for his memory. 'You are that false friar who -journeyed with me to Casale, that brigand named ... Lorenzaccio. -Lorenzaccio da Trino.' - -The beady eyes blinked in terror. 'I don't deny it. But I was your -friend then, and but for that blundering peasant ...' - -'Quiet!' he was curtly bidden. Bellarion set down the candle on the -table, which was of oak, rough-hewn and ponderous as a refectory board, -and himself sat down in the armchair that stood by its head. Fearfully -Lorenzaccio considered him, taking stock of the richness of his apparel -and the air of authority by which the timid convent nursling of a year -ago was now invested. His fears withheld him from any philosophical -reflections upon the mutability of human life. - -Suddenly Bellarion's bold dark eyes were upon him, and the brigand -shuddered despite the stifling heat of the night. - -'You know what awaits you?' - -'I know the risks I ran. But ...' - -'A rope, my friend. I tell you so as to dispel any fond doubt.' - -The man reeled a little, his knees sagging under him. The guards -steadied him. Watching him, Bellarion seemed almost to smile. Then he -took his chin in his hand, and for a long moment there was silence save -for the prisoner's raucous, agitated breathing. At last Bellarion spoke -again, very slowly, painfully slowly to the listening man, since he -discerned his fate to be wrapped up in Bellarion's words. - -'You claim that once you stood my friend. Whether you would, indeed, -have stood my friend to the end I do not know. Circumstances parted us -prematurely. But before that happened you had stolen all that I had. -Still, it is possible you would have repaid me had the chance been -yours.' - -'I would! I would!' the wretched man protested. 'By the Mother of God, I -would!' - -'I am so foolish as to permit myself to believe you. And you'll remember -that your life hangs upon my belief. You were the instrument chosen by -Fate to shape my course for me, and there is on my part a desire to -stand your friend ...' - -'God reward you for that! God ...' - -'Quiet! You interrupt me. First I shall require proof of your good -will.' - -'Proof!' Lorenzaccio was confused. 'What proof can I give?' - -'You can answer my questions, clearly and truthfully. That will be proof -enough. But at the first sign of prevarication, there will be worse than -death for you, as certainly as there will be death at the end. Be open -with me now, and you shall have your life and presently your freedom.' - -The questions followed, and the answers came too promptly to leave -Bellarion any suspicion of invention. He tested them by cross-questions, -and was left satisfied that from fear of death and hope of life -Lorenzaccio answered truthfully throughout. For a half-hour, perhaps, -the examination continued, and left Bellarion in possession of all the -information that he needed. Lorenzaccio was in the pay of Girolamo -Vignate, Cardinal of Desana, a brother of the besieged tyrant, who -operating from Cantalupo was sending these mule-trains of victuals into -Alessandria on every night when the absence of moonlight made it -possible; the mules were left in the city to be eaten together with -their loads, and the men made their way back on foot from the city -gates; the only one ever permitted to enter was Lorenzaccio himself, who -invariably returned upon the morrow in possession of the password to -gain him admission on the next occasion. He had crossed the lines, he -confessed, more than a dozen times in the last three weeks. Further, -Bellarion elicited from him a minute description of the Cardinal of -Desana, of Giovanni Vignate of Lodi, and of the principal persons -usually found in attendance upon him, of the topography of Alessandria, -and of much else besides. Many of his answers Bellarion took down in -writing. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -THE MULETEER - - -It wanted less than an hour to dawn when the mule-train came up to the -southern gate of Alessandria, and its single leader disturbed the -silence of the night by a shrill whistle thrice repeated. - -A moment later a light showed behind the grating by the narrow postern -gate, built into the wall beside the portcullis. A voice bawled a -challenge across the gulf. - -'Who comes?' - -'Messenger from Messer Girolamo,' answered the muleteer. - -'Give the word of the night.' - -'Lodi triumphant.' - -The light was moved, and presently followed a creaking of winches and a -rattle of heavy chains. A great black mass, faintly discernible against -the all-encompassing darkness, slowly descended outwards and came to -rest with a thud almost at the very feet of the muleteer. Across that -lowered drawbridge the archway of the guard-house glowed in light, and -revealed itself aswarm with men-at-arms under the jagged teeth of the -raised portcullis. - -The muleteer spoke to the night. He took farewell of men who were not -with him, and called instructions after some one of whom there was no -sign, then drove his laden mules across the bridge, and himself came -last into the light between the men-at-arms drawn up there to ensure -against treachery, ready to warn those who manned the winches above in -the event of an attempt to rush the bridge. - -The muleteer, a tall fellow, as tall as Lorenzaccio, but much younger, -dressed in a loose tunic of rough brown cloth with leg-clothing of the -same material cross-gartered to the knees, found himself confronted by -an officer who thrust a lantern into his face. - -'You are not Lorenzaccio!' - -'Devil take you,' answered the muleteer, 'you needn't burn my nose to -find that out.' - -His easy impudence allayed suspicion. Besides, how was a besieged -garrison to suspect a man who brought in a train of mules all laden with -provisions? - -'Who are you? What is your name?' - -'I am called Beppo, which is short for Giuseppe. And to-night I am the -deputy of Lorenzaccio who has had an accident and narrowly escaped a -broken neck. No need to ask your name, my captain. Lorenzaccio warned me -I should meet here a fierce watch-dog named Cristoforo, who would want -to eat me alive when he saw me. But now that I have seen you I don't -believe him. Have you anything to drink at hand, my captain? It's a -plaguily thirsty night.' And with the back of his hand the muleteer -swept the beads of sweat from his broad, comely forehead, leaving it -clean of much of the grime that elsewhere disfigured his countenance. - -'You'll take your mules to the Communal,' the captain answered him -shortly, resenting his familiarity. - -Day was breaking when Messer Beppo came to the Communal Palace and drove -his mules into the courtyard, there to surrender them to those whom he -found waiting. It was a mixed group made up of Vignate's officers and -representatives of the civic government. The officers were -well-nourished and vigorous, the citizens looked feeble and emaciated, -from which the muleteer inferred that in the matter of rationing the -citizens of Alessandria were being sacrificed to the soldiery. - -Messer Beppo, who for a muleteer was a singularly self-assertive fellow, -demanded to be taken at once to the Lord Giovanni Vignate. They were -short with him at first for his impudence until he brought a note almost -of menace into his demand, whereupon an officer undertook to conduct him -to the citadel. - -Over a narrow drawbridge they entered the rocca, which was the heart of -that great Guelphic fortress, and from a small courtyard they ascended -by a winding staircase of stone to a stone chamber whose grey walls were -bare of arras, whose Gothic windows were unglazed, and whose vaulted -ceiling hung so low that the tall muleteer could have touched it with -his raised hand. A monkish table of solid oak, an oaken bench, and a -high-backed chair were all its furniture, and a cushion of crimson -velvet the only sybaritic touch in that chill austerity. - -Leaving him there, the young officer passed through a narrow door to a -farther room. Thence came presently a swarthy man who was squat and -bowlegged with thick, pouting lips and an air of great consequence. He -was wrapped in a crimson gown that trailed along the stone floor and -attended by a black-robed monk and a tall lean man in a soldier's -leathern tunic with sword and dagger hanging from a rich belt. - -The squat man's keen, haughty eyes played searchingly over the muleteer. - -'I am to suppose you have a message for me,' he said, and sat down in -the only chair. The monk, who was stout and elderly, found a place on -the bench, leaning his elbows on the table. The captain stationed -himself behind Vignate, whilst the officer who had brought Messer Beppo -lingered in the background by the wall. - -The tall young muleteer lounged forward, no whit abashed in the presence -of the dread Lord of Lodi. - -'His excellency the Cardinal of Desana desires you to understand, my -lord, that this mule-train of victuals is the last one he will send.' - -'What?' Vignate clutched the arms of his chair and half raised himself -from his seat. His countenance lost much of its chill dignity. - -'It isn't that it's no longer safe; but it's no longer possible. -Lorenzaccio, who has had charge of these expeditions, is a prisoner in -the hands of Facino. He was caught yesterday morning, on his way back -from Alessandria. As likely as not he'll have been hanged by now. But -that's no matter. What is important is that they've found us out, and -the cordon is now so tightly drawn that it's madness to try to get -through.' - -'Yet you,' said the tall captain, 'have got through.' - -'By a stratagem that's not to be repeated. I took a chance. I stampeded -a dozen mules into Facino's lines near Aulara. At the alarm there was a -rush for the spot. It drew, as I had reckoned, the men on guard between -Aulara and Casalbagliano, leaving a gap. In the dark I drove through -that gap before it was repaired.' - -'That was shrewd,' said the captain. - -'It was necessary,' said Beppo shortly. 'Necessary not only to bring in -these provisions, but to warn you that there are no more to follow.' - -Vignate's eyes looked out of a face that had turned grey. The man's bold -manner and crisp speech intrigued him. - -'Who are you?' he asked. 'You are no muleteer.' - -'Your lordship is perspicacious. After Lorenzaccio was taken, no -muleteer could have been found to run the gauntlet. I am a captain of -fortune. Beppo Farfalla, to serve your lordship. I lead a company of -three hundred lances, now at my Lord Cardinal's orders at Cantalupo. At -my Lord Cardinal's invitation I undertook this adventure, in the hope -that it may lead to employment.' - -'By God, if I am to be starved I am likely to offer you employment.' - -'If your lordship waits to be starved. That was not my Lord Cardinal's -view of what should happen.' - -'He'll teach me my trade, will he, my priestly brother?' - -Messer Beppo shrugged. 'As to that, he has some shrewd notions.' - -'Notions! My Lord Cardinal?' Vignate was very savage in his chagrin. -'What are these notions?' - -'One of them is that this pouring of provisions into Alessandria was as -futile as the torment of the Danaides.' - -'Danaides? Who are they?' - -'I hoped your lordship would know. I don't. I quote my Lord Cardinal's -words; no more.' - -'It's a pagan allusion out of Appollodorus,' the monk explained. - -'What my Lord Cardinal means,' said Beppo, 'is that to feed you was a -sheer waste, since as long as it continued, you sat here doing nothing.' - -'Doing nothing!' Vignate was indignant. 'Let him keep to his Mass and -his breviary and what else he understands.' - -'He understands more than your lordship supposes.' - -'More of what?' - -'Of the art of war, my lord.' - -And my lord laughed unpleasantly, being joined by his captain, but not -by the monk whom it offended to see a cardinal derided. - -And now Beppo went on: 'He assumes that this news will be a spur you -need.' - -'Why damn his impudence and yours! I need no spur. You'll tell him from -me that I make war by my own judgment. If I have sat here inactive, it -is that I have sat here awaiting my chance.' - -'And now that the threat of starvation will permit you to sit here no -longer, you will be constrained to go out and seek that chance.' - -'Seek it?' Vignate was frowning darkly, his eyes aflame. He disliked -this cockerel's easy, impudent tone. Captains of fortune did not usually -permit themselves such liberties with him. 'Where shall I seek it? Tell -me that and I'll condone your insolence.' - -'My Lord Cardinal thinks it might be sought in Facino's quarters at -Pavone.' - -'Oh, yes; or in the Indies, or in Hell. They're as accessible. I have -made sorties from here--four of them, and all disastrous. Yet the -diasters were due to no fault of mine.' - -'Is your lordship quite sure of that?' quoth Messer Beppo softly, -smiling a little. - -The Lord of Lodi exploded. 'Am I sure?' he cried, his grey face turning -purple and inflating. 'Dare any man suggest that I am to blame?' - -'My Lord Cardinal dares. He more than suggests it. He says so bluntly.' - -'And your impudence no doubt agrees with him?' - -'Upon the facts could my impudence do less?' His tone was mocking. The -three stared at him in sheer unbelief. 'Consider now, my lord: You made -your sallies by day, in full view of an enemy who could concentrate at -whatever point you attacked over ground upon which it was almost -impossible for your horse to charge effectively. My Lord Cardinal thinks -that if you had earlier done what the threat of starvation must now -compel you to do, and made a sally under cover of night, you might have -been upon the enemy lines before ever your movement could be detected -and a concentration made to hold you.' - -Vignate looked at him with heavy contempt, then shrugged: 'A priest's -notion of war!' he sneered. - -The tall captain took it up with Messer Beppo. Less disdainful in tone, -he no less conveyed his scorn of the Cardinal Girolamo's ideas. - -'Such an action would have been well if our only aim had been to break -through and escape leaving Alessandria in Facino's hands. But so ignoble -an aim was never in my Lord Vignate's thoughts.' He leaned on the tall -back of his master's chair, and thrust out a deprecatory lip. 'Necessity -may unfortunately bring him to consider it now that ...' - -Messer Beppo interrupted him with a laugh. - -'The necessity is no more present now than it has ever been. Facino Cane -will lie as much at your mercy to-morrow night as he has lain on any -night in all these weeks of your inaction.' - -'What do you say?' breathed Vignate. 'At our mercy?' The three of them -stared at him. - -'At your mercy. A bold stroke and it is done. The line drawn out on a -periphery some eighteen miles in length is very tenuous. There are -strong posts at Marengo, Aulara, Casalbagliano, and San Michele.' - -'Yes, yes. This we know.' - -'Marengo and San Michele have been weakened since yesterday, to -strengthen the line from Aulara to Casalbagliano in view of the -discovery that Alessandria has been fed from there. Aulara and -Casalbagliano are the posts farthest from Pavone, which is the strongest -post of all and Facino's quarters.' - -Vignate's eyes began to kindle. He was sufficiently a soldier, after -all, to perceive whither Messer Beppo was going. 'Yes, yes,' he -muttered. - -'Under cover of night a strong force could creep out by the northern -gate, so as to be across the Tamaro at the outset, and going round by -the river fall upon Pavone almost before an alarm could be raised. -Before supports could be brought up you would have broken the force that -is stationed there. The capture of Facino and his chief captains, who -are with him, would be as certain as that the sun is rising now. After -that, your besiegers would be a body without a head.' - -Followed a silence. Vignate licked his thick lips as he sat huddled -there considering. - -'By God!' he said, and again, after further thought, 'By God!' He looked -at his tall captain. The captain tightened his lips and nodded. - -'It is well conceived,' he said. - -'Well conceived!' cried Beppo on that note of ready laughter. 'No better -conception is possible in your present pass. You snatch victory from -defeat.' - -His confidence inspired them visibly. Then Vignate asked a question: - -'What is Facino's force at Pavone? Is it known?' - -'Some four or five hundred men. No more. With half that number you could -overpower them if you took them by surprise.' - -'I do not run unnecessary risks. I'll take six hundred.' - -'Your lordship has decided, then?' said the tall captain. - -'What else, Rocco?' - -Rocco fingered his bearded chin. 'It should succeed. I'd be easier if I -were sure the enveloping movement could be made without giving the -alarm.' - -Unbidden the audacious Messer Beppo broke into their counsel. - -'Aye, that's the difficulty. But it can be overcome. That is where I can -serve you; I and my three hundred lances. I move them round during the -day wide of the lines and bring up behind Pavone, at Pietramarazzi. At -the concerted hour I push them forward, right up against Facino's rear, -and at the moment that you attack in front I charge from behind, and the -envelopment is made.' - -'But how to know each other in the dark?' said Rocco. 'Your force and -ours might come to grips, each supposing the other to be Facino's.' - -'My men shall wear their shirts over their armour if yours will do the -same.' - -'Lord of Heaven!' said Vignate. 'You have it all thought out.' - -'That is my way. That is how I succeed.' - -Vignate heaved himself up. On his broad face it was to be read that he -had made up his mind. - -'Let it be to-night, then. There is no gain in delay, nor can our -stomachs brook it. You are to be depended upon, Captain Farfalla?' - -'If we come to terms,' said Beppo easily. 'I'm not in the business for -the love of adventure.' - -Vignate's countenance sobered from its elation. His eyes narrowed. He -became the man of affairs. 'And your terms?' quoth he. - -'A year's employment for myself and my condotta at a monthly stipend of -fifteen thousand gold florins.' - -'God of Heaven!' Vignate ejaculated. 'Is that all?' And he laughed -scornfully. - -'It is for your lordship to refuse.' - -'It is for you to be reasonable. Fifteen thou ... Besides, I don't want -your condotta for a year.' - -'But I prefer the security of a year's employment. It is security for -you, too, of a sort. You'll be well served.' - -'Ten thousand florins for your assistance in this job,' said Vignate -firmly. - -'I'll be wishing you good morning,' said Messer Beppo as firmly. 'I know -my value.' - -'You take advantage of my urgent needs,' Vignate complained. - -'And you forget what you already owe me for having risked my neck in -coming here.' - -After that they haggled for a full half-hour, and if guarantees of -Messer Beppo's good faith had been lacking, they had it in the tenacity -with which he clung to his demands. - -At long length the Lord of Lodi yielded, but with an ill grace and with -certain mental reservations notwithstanding the bond drawn up by his -monkish secretary. With that parchment in his pocket, Messer Beppo went -gaily to breakfast with the Lord Vignate, and thereafter took his leave, -and slipped out of the city to carry to the Cardinal at Desana the news -of the decision and to prepare for his own part in it. - -It was a dazzling morning, all sign of the storm having been swept from -the sky, and the air being left the cleaner for its passage. - -Messer Beppo smiled as he walked, presumably because on such a morning -it was good to live. He was still smiling when towards noon of that same -day he strode unannounced into Facino's quarters at Pavone. - -Facino was at dinner with his three captains, and the Countess faced her -lord at the foot of the board. He looked up as the newcomer strode to -the empty place at the table. - -'You're late, Bellarion. We have been awaiting you and your report. Was -there any attempt last night to put a victualling party across the -lines?' - -'There was,' said Bellarion. - -'And you caught them?' - -'We caught them. Yes. Nevertheless, the mule-train and the victuals won -into Alessandria.' - -They looked at him in wonder. Carmagnola scowled upon him. 'How, sir? -And this in spite of your boast that you caught them?' - -Bellarion fixed him with eyes that were red and rather bleary from lack -of sleep. - -'In spite of it,' he agreed. 'The fact is, that mule-train was conducted -into Alessandria by myself.' And he sat down in the silence that -followed. - -'Do you say that you've been into Alessandria?' - -'Into the very citadel. I had breakfast with the squat Lord of Lodi.' - -'Will you explain yourself?' cried Facino. - -Bellarion did so. - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -THE CAMISADE - - -The sequel you already guess, and its telling need not keep us long. - -That night Vignate and six hundred men, wearing their shirts over their -armour, rode into as pretty an ambush about the village of Pavone as is -to be found in the history of such operations. It was a clear night, -and, although there was no moon, there was just light enough from the -starflecked sky to make it ideal, from the point of view of either -party, for the business in hand. - -There was some rough fighting for perhaps a half-hour, and a good deal -of blood was shed, for Vignate's men, infuriated at finding themselves -trapped, fought viciously and invited hard knocks in return. - -Bellarion in the handsome armour of Boucicault's gift, but without a -headpiece, to which as yet he had been unable to accustom himself, held -aloof from the furious scrimmage, just as he had held aloof from the -jousts in Milan. He had a horror of personal violence and manhandling, -which some contemporaries who detected it have accounted a grave flaw in -his nature. Nevertheless, one blow at least for his side was forced upon -him, and all things considered it was a singularly appropriate blow. It -was towards the end of the fight, just as the followers of Vignate began -to own defeat and throw down their weapons, that one man, all cased in -armour and with a headpiece whose peaked vizor gave him the appearance -of some monstrous bird, came charging furiously at the ring of enemies -that confined him. He was through and over them in that terrific charge, -and the way of escape was clear before him save for the aloof Bellarion, -who of his own volition would have made no move to check that impetuous -career. But the fool must needs drive straight at Bellarion through the -gloom. Bellarion pulled his horse aside, and by that swerve avoided the -couched lance which he suspected rather than saw. Then, rising in his -stirrups as that impetuous knight rushed by, he crashed the mace with -which he had armed himself upon the peaked vizor, and rolled his -assailant from the saddle. - -Thereafter he behaved with knightly consideration. He got down from his -horse, and relieved the fallen warrior of his helmet, so as to give him -air, which presently revived him. By the usages of chivalry the man was -Bellarion's prisoner. - -The fight was over. Already men with lanterns were going over the meadow -which had served for battle-ground; and into the village of Pavone, to -the great alarm of its rustic inhabitants, the disarmed survivors of -Vignate's force, amounting still to close upon five hundred, were being -closely herded by Facino's men. Through this dense press Bellarion -conducted his prisoner, in the charge of two Burgundians. - -In the main room of Facino's quarters the two first confronted each -other in the light. Bellarion laughed as he looked into that flat, -swarthy countenance with the pouting lips that were frothing now with -rage. - -'You filthy, venal hound! You've sold yourself to the highest bidder! -Had I known it was you, you might have slit my throat or ever I would -have surrendered.' - -Facino, in the chair to which his swathed leg confined him, and -Carmagnola, who had come but a moment ago to report the engagement at an -end, stared now at Bellarion's raging prisoner, in whom they recognised -Vignate. And meanwhile Bellarion was answering him. - -'I was never for sale, my lord. You are not discerning. I was my Lord -Facino's man when I sought you this morning in Alessandria.' - -Vignate looked at him, and incredulity was tempering the hate of his -glance. - -'It was a trick!' He could hardly believe that a man should have dared -so much. 'You are not Farfalla, captain of fortune?' - -'My name is Bellarion.' - -'It's the name of a trickster, then, a cheat, a foul, treacherous hind, -who imposed upon me with lies.' He looked past his captor at Facino, who -was smiling. 'Is this how you fight, Facino?' - -'Merciful God!' Facino laughed. 'Are you to prate of chivalry and -knight-errantry, you faithless brigand! Count it against him, Bellarion, -when you fix his ransom. He is your prisoner. If he were mine I'd not -enlarge him under fifty thousand ducats. His people of Lodi should find -the money, and so learn what it means to harbour such a tyrant.' - -Savage eyes glowered at Facino. Pouting lips were twisted in vicious -hate. 'Pray God, Facino, that you never fall prisoner of mine.' - -Bellarion tapped his shoulder, and he tapped hard. 'I do not like you, -Messer de Vignate. You're a fool, and the world is troubled already by -too many of your kind. So little am I venal that from a sense of duty to -mankind I might send your head to the Duke of Milan you betrayed, and so -forgo the hundred thousand ducats ransom you're to pay to me.' - -Vignate's mouth fell open. - -'Say nothing more,' Bellarion admonished him. 'What you've said so far -has already cost you fifty thousand ducats. Insolence is a costly luxury -in a prisoner.' He turned to the attendant Burgundians. 'Take him -above-stairs, strip off his armour, and bind him securely.' - -'Why, you inhuman barbarian! I've surrendered to you. You have my word.' - -'Your word!' Bellarion loosed a laugh that was like a blow in the face. -'Gian Galeazzo Visconti had your word, yet before he was cold you were -in arms against his son. I'll trust my bonds rather than your word, my -lord.' He waved them out, and as he turned, Facino and Carmagnola saw -that he was quivering. - -'Trickster and betrayer, eh! And to be called so by such a Judas!' - -Thus he showed what had stirred him. Yet not quite all. They were not to -guess that he could have borne the epithets with equanimity if they had -not reminded him of other lips that had uttered them. - -'Solace yourself with the ransom, boy. And you're not modest, faith! A -hundred thousand! Well, well!' Facino laughed. 'You were in luck to take -Vignate prisoner.' - -'In luck, indeed,' Carmagnola curtly agreed. Then turned to face Facino. -'And so, my lord, the affair is happily concluded.' - -'Concluded?' There was derision in Bellarion's interjection. 'Why, sir, -the affair has not yet begun. This was no more than the prelude.' - -'Prelude to what?' - -'To the capture of Alessandria. It's to be taken before daylight.' - -They stared at him, and Facino was frowning almost in displeasure. - -'You said nothing of this.' - -'I thought it would be clear. Why do I lure Vignate to make a _camisade_ -from Alessandria with six hundred men wearing their shirts over their -arms, to be met here by another three hundred under Captain Farfalla -similarly bedecked? Nine hundred horsemen, or thereabouts, with their -shirts over their arms will ride back in triumph to Alessandria in the -dim light of dawn. And the jubilant garrison will lift up its gates to -receive them.' - -'You intended that?' said Facino, when at last he found his voice. - -'What else? Is it not a logical consummation? You should break your -morning fast in Alessandria, my lord.' - -Facino, the great captain, looked almost with reverence at this -fledgling in the art of war. - -'By God, boy! You should go far. At Travo you showed your natural talent -for this game of arms. But this ...' - -'Shall we come to details?' said Bellarion to remind them that time was -precious. - -Little, however, remained to be concerted. By Bellarion's contriving the -entire condotta was waiting under arms. Facino offered Bellarion command -of what he called the white-shirts, to be supported by Carmagnola with -the main battle. Bellarion, however, thought that Carmagnola should lead -the white-shirts. - -'Theirs will be the honour of the affair,' Facino reminded him. 'I offer -it to you as your due.' - -'Let Messer Carmagnola have it. What fighting there may be will fall to -the lot of the pretended returning camisaders when the garrison -discovers the imposture. That is a business which Messer Carmagnola -understands better than I do.' - -'You are generous, sir,' said Carmagnola. - -Bellarion looked sharply to see if he were sneering. But for once -Carmagnola was obviously sincere. - -As Bellarion had planned, so the thing fell out. - -In the grey light of breaking day, creeping pallid and colourless as the -moonstone over the meadows about Alessandria, the anxious watchers from -the walls beheld a host approaching, whose white-shirts announced them -for Vignate and his raiders. Down went drawbridge, up portcullis, to -admit them. Over the timbers of the bridge they thundered, under the -deep archway of the gatehouse they streamed, and the waiting soldiery of -Vignate deafened the ears of the townsfolk with their cheers, which -abruptly turned to cries of rage and fear. For the camisaders were -amongst them, beating them down and back, breaking a way into the -gatehouse, assuming possession of the machinery that controlled -drawbridge and portcullis, and spreading themselves out into the square -within to hold the approaches of the gate. Their true quality was at -last revealed, and in the tall armoured man on the tall horse who led -and directed them Francesco Busone of Carmagnola was recognised by many. - -And now as the daylight grew, another host advanced upon the city, the -main battle of Facino's army. This was followed by yet a third, a force -detailed to escort the disarmed camisaders of Vignate who were being -brought back prisoners. - -When two hours later Facino broke his fast in the citadel, as Bellarion -had promised him that he should, with his officers about him, and his -Countess, her beauty all aglow, at the table's foot, there was already -peace and order in the captured city. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -SEVERANCE - - -The Knight Bellarion rode alone in the hot glow of an August afternoon -through the moist and fertile meadowland between Alessandria and San -Michele. He was dejected by the sterility of worldly achievement and -mourned the futility of all worldly endeavour. In endeavour, itself, as -he had to admit from his own experience, there was a certain dynamic -entertainment, affording an illusion of useful purpose. With achievement -the illusion was dispelled. The purpose grasped was so much water in the -hands. Man's greatest accomplishment was to produce change. Restlessness -abode in him none the less because no one state could be shown to be -better than another. The only good in life was study, because study was -an endeavour that never reached fulfilment. It busied a man to the end -of his days, and it aimed at the only true reality in all this world of -shams and deceits. - -Messer Bellarion conceived that in abandoning the road to Pavia and -Master Chrysolaras he had missed his way in life. Nay, further, his -first false step had been taken when driven by that heresy of his, -rooted in ignorance and ridiculous, he had quitted the monastery at -Cigliano. In conventual endeavour, after all, there was a definite -purpose. There, mortal existence was regarded as no more than the -antechamber to real life which lay in the hereafter; a brief novitiate -wherein man might prepare his spirit for Eternity. By contrast with that -definite, peaceful purpose, this world of blindly striving, struggling, -ever-restless men, who addressed themselves to their span of mortal -existence as if it were to endure forever, was no better, no more -purposeful, and of no more merit in its ultimate achievement, than a -clot of writhing earthworms. - -Thus Messer Bellarion, riding by sparkling waters in the dappled shade -of poplars standing stark against the polished azure of the summer sky, -and the very beauty with which God had dressed the world made man's -defilement of it the more execrable in his eyes. - -Emerging from the screen of poplars, he emerged also from his gloomy -reflections, dragged thence by the sight of a lady on a white horse that -was gaily caparisoned in blue and silver. She was accompanied by a -falconer and attended by two grooms whose liveries in the same colours -announced them of the household of Messer Facino Cane, Count of -Biandrate, and now by right of conquest and self-election Tyrant of -Alessandria. For in accepting his tacit dismissal from the Duke of -Milan, Facino had thrown off his allegiance to all Visconti and played -now, at last, for his own strong hand. - -Bellarion would have turned another way. It had become a habit with him -whenever he espied the Countess. But the lady hailed him, consigning the -hooded falcon on her wrist into the keeping of her falconer, who with -the grooms fell back to a respectful distance as Bellarion, reluctantly -obedient, approached. - -'If you're for home, Bellarion, we'll ride together.' - -Uncomfortable, he murmured a gratified assent that sounded as false as -he intended that it should. - -She looked at him sideways as they moved on together. She spoke of -hawking. Here was fine open country for the sport. A flight could be -followed for miles in any direction, moving almost as directly along the -ground as the birds moved in the air above. Yet sport that day had been -provokingly sluggish, and quarries had been sought in vain. It would be -the heat, she opined, which kept the birds under cover. - -In silence he jogged beside her, letting her prate, until at last she -too fell silent. Then, after a spell, with a furtive sidelong glance -from under her long lashes, she asked him a question in a small voice. - -'You are angry with me, Bellarion?' - -He was startled, but recovered instantly. 'That were a presumption, -madonna.' - -'In you it might be a condescension. You are so aloof these days. You -have avoided me as persistently as I have sought you.' - -'Could I suppose you sought me?' - -'You might have seen.' - -'If I had not deemed it wiser not to look.' - -She sighed a little. 'You make it plain that it is not in you to -forgive.' - -'That does not describe me. I bear no malice to any living man or -woman.' - -'But what perfection! I wonder you could bear to stray from Heaven!' It -was no more than an impulsive display of her claws. Instantly she -withdrew them. 'No, no. Dear God, I do not mean to mock at you. But -you're so cold, so placid! That is how you come to be the great soldier -men are calling you. But it will not make men love you, Bellarion.' - -Bellarion smiled. 'I don't remember to have sought men's love.' - -'Nor women's, eh?' - -'The fathers taught me to avoid it.' - -'The fathers! The fathers!' Her mockery was afoot again. 'In God's name, -why ever did you leave the fathers?' - -'It was what I was asking myself when I came upon you.' - -'And you found no answer when you saw me?' - -'None, madonna.' - -Her face whitened a little, and her breath came shorter. - -'You're blunt!' she said, and uttered a little laugh that was hard and -unpleasant. - -He explained himself. 'You are my Lord Facino's wife.' - -'Ah!' Her expression changed again. 'I knew we should have that. But if -I were not? If I were not?' She faced him boldly, in a sudden eagerness -that he deemed piteous. - -The solemnity of his countenance increased. He looked straight before -him. 'In all this idle world there is naught so idle as to consider what -we might be if it were different.' - -She had no answer for a while, and they rode a little way side by side -in silence, her attendants following out of earshot. - -'You'll forgive, I think, when I explain,' said she at last. - -'Explain?' he asked her, mystified. - -'That night in Milan ... the last time we spoke together. You thought I -used you cruelly.' - -'No more cruelly than I deserve to be used in a world where it is -expected of a man that he shall be more sensible to beauty than to -honour.' - -'I knew it was honour made you harsh,' she said, and reached forth a -hand to touch his own where it lay upon the pommel. 'I understood. I -understand you better than you think, Bellarion. Could I have been angry -with you then?' - -'You seemed angry.' - -'Seemed. That is the word. It was necessary to seem. You did not know -that Facino was behind the arras that masked the little door.' - -'I hoped that you did not.' - -It was like a blow between the eyes. She snatched away her hand. Brows -met over staring, glaring eyes and her nether lip was caught in sharp -white teeth. - -'You knew!' she gasped at last, and her voice held all the emotions. - -'The arras quivered, and there was no air. That drew my eyes, and I saw -the point of my lord's shoe protruding from the curtain's hem.' - -Her face held more wickedness in that moment than he would have thought -possible to find wed with so much perfection. - -'When ... When did you see? Was it before you spoke to me as you did?' - -'Your thoughts do me poor credit. If I had seen in time should I have -been quite so plain and uncompromising in my words? I did not see until -after I had spoken.' - -The explanation nothing mollified her. 'Almost I hoped you'd say that -the words you used, you used because you know of Facino's presence.' - -After that, he thought, no tortuous vagaries of the human mind should -ever again astonish him. - -'You hoped I would confess myself a bloodless coward who uses a woman as -a buckler against a husband's righteous wrath!' - -As she made no answer, he continued: 'Each of us has been defrauded in -his hopes. Mine were that you did not suspect Facino's presence, and -that you spoke from a heart at last aroused to loyalty.' - -It took her a moment fully to understand him. Then her face flamed -scarlet, and unshed tears of humiliation and anger blurred her vision. -But her voice, though it quivered a little, was derisive. - -'You spare me nothing,' she said. 'You strip me naked in your brutal -scorn, and then fling mud upon me. I have been your friend, -Bellarion--aye, and more. But that is over now.' - -'Madonna, if I have offended ...' - -'Let be.' She became imperious. 'Listen now. You must not continue with -my Lord Facino because where he goes thither must I go, too.' - -'You ask me to take my dismissal from his service?' He was incredulous. - -'I beg it ... a favour, Bellarion. It is yourself have brought things to -the pass where I may not meet you without humiliation. And continue -daily to meet you I will not.' Her ready wicked temper flared up. -'You'll go, or else I swear ...' - -'Swear nothing,' he thundered, very suddenly aroused. 'Threaten, and you -bind me to Facino hand and foot.' - -Instantly she was all soft and pleading. A fool she was. -Nevertheless--indeed, perhaps because of it--she had a ready grasp of -the weapons of her sex. - -'Oh, Bellarion, I do not threaten. I implore ... I ...' - -'Silence were your best agent now.' He was curt. 'I know your wishes, -and ...' He broke off with a rough wave of his hand. 'Where should I -go?' he asked, but the question was addressed to Fate and not to her. -She answered it, however. - -'Do you ask that, Bellarion? Why, in this past month since Alessandria -fell your fame has gone out over the face of Italy. The credit for two -such great victories as those of Travo and Alessandria is all your own, -and the means by which you won them are on every man's tongue.' - -'Aye! Facino is generous!' he said, and his tone was bitter. - -'There's not a prince in Italy would not be glad to employ you.' - -'In fact the world is full of places for those we would dismiss.' - -After that they rode in silence until they were under the walls of the -city. - -'You'll go, Bellarion?' - -'I am considering.' He was very grave, swayed between anger and a -curious pity, and weighing other things besides. - -In the courtyard of the citadel he held her stirrup for her. As she came -to earth, and turned, standing very close to him, she put her little -hand on his. - -'You'll go, Bellarion, I know. For you are generous. This, then, is -farewell. Be you fortunate!' - -He bowed until his lips touched her hand in formal homage. - -As he came upright again, he saw the square-shouldered figure of Facino -in the Gothic doorway, and Facino's watching eyes, he thought, were -narrow. That little thing was the last item in the scales of his -decision. - -Facino came to greet them. His manner was pleasant and hearty. He -desired to know how the hawking had gone, how many pheasants his lady -had brought back for supper, how far afield she had ridden, where -Bellarion had joined her, and other similar facts of amiable commonplace -inquiry. But Bellarion watching him perceived that his excessively ready -smile never reached his eyes. - -Throughout supper, which he took as usual in the company of his captains -and his lady, Facino was silent and brooding, nor even showed great -interest when Carmagnola told of the arrival of a large body of -Ghibelline refugees from Milan to swell the forces which Facino was -assembling against the coming struggle, whether defensive or offensive, -with Malatesta and Duke Gian Maria. - -Soon after the Countess had withdrawn, Facino gave his captains leave. -Bellarion, however, still kept his place. His resolve was taken. That -which the Countess claimed of him as a sacrifice to her lacerated -vanity, he found his sense of duty to Facino claiming also, and his -prudent, calculating wits confirming. - -Facino raised heavy eyes from the contemplation of the board and leaned -back in his chair. He looked old that night in the flickering -candle-light. His first words betrayed the subject upon which his -thoughts had been lingering. - -'Ha, boy! I am glad to see the good relations between Bice and yourself. -I had fancied a coolness between you lately.' - -'I am the Countess's servant, as I am yours, my lord.' - -'Aye, aye,' Facino grunted, and poured himself wine from a jug of beaten -gold. 'She likes your company. She grudged you once, when I sent you on -a mission to Genoa. I'm brought to think of it because I am about to -repeat the offence.' - -'You wish me to go to Boucicault for men?' Bellarion showed his -surprise. - -Facino looked at him quizzically. 'Why not? Do you think he will not -come?' - -'Oh, he'll come. He'll march on Milan with you to smash Malatesta, and -afterwards he'll try to smash you in your turn, that he may remain sole -master in the name of the King of France.' - -'You include politics in your studies?' - -'I use my wits.' - -'To some purpose, boy. To some purpose. But I never mentioned -Boucicault, nor thought of him. The men I need must be procured -elsewhere. Where would you think of seeking them?' - -And then Bellarion understood. Facino wanted him away, and desired him -to understand it, which was why he had dragged in that allusion to the -Countess. Facino was made reticent by his deep love for his unworthy -lady; his need for her remained fiercely strong, however she might be -disposed to stray. - -Bellarion used his wits, you see, as he had lately boasted. - -Why had Facino spied that night in Milan? Surely because in the -relations between Bellarion and the Countess he had already perceived -reason for uneasiness. That uneasiness his spying had temporarily -allayed. Yet not so completely but that he continued watchful, and now, -at the first sign of a renewal of that association, it took alarm. -Though Facino might still be sure that he had nothing to avenge, he -could be far from sure that he had nothing to avert. - -A great sorrow welled up from Bellarion's heart. All that he now was, -all that he possessed, his very life itself, he owed to Facino's -boundless generosity. And in return he was become a thorn in Facino's -flesh. - -'Why, sir,' he said slowly, smiling a little as if in deprecation, 'this -matter of levies has been lately in my thoughts. To be frank, I have -been thinking of raising a condotta of my own.' - -Facino sat bolt upright in his surprise. Clearly his first emotion was -of displeasure. - -'Oho! You grow proud?' - -'I have my ambitions.' - -'How long have you nursed this one? It's the first I hear of it.' - -Blandly Bellarion looked across at him, and bland was his tone. - -'I matured the conceit as I rode abroad to-day.' - -'As you rode abroad?' - -Facino's eyes were intently upon his face. It conserved its blandness. -The condottiero's glance flickered and fell away. They understood each -other. - -'I wish you the luck that you deserve, Bellarion. You've done well by -me. You've done very well. None knows it better than I. And it's right -you should go, since you've the sense to see that it's best for ... -you.' - -The colour had faded from Bellarion's face, his eyes were very bright. -He swallowed before he could trust himself to speak, to play the comedy -out. - -'You take it very well, sir--this desertion of you. But I'm your man for -all my ambition.' - -Thereafter they discussed his future. He was for the Cantons, he -announced, to raise a body of Swiss, the finest infantry in the world, -and Bellarion meant to depend on infantry. As a parting favour he begged -for the loan of Stoffel, who would be useful to him as a sponsor to his -compatriots of Uri and the Vierwaldstaetter. Facino promised him not -only Stoffel himself, but fifty men of the Swiss cavalry Stoffel had -latterly recruited, to be a nucleus of the condotta Bellarion went to -raise. - -They pledged each other in a final cup, and parted, Facino to seek his -bed, Bellarion in quest of Stoffel. - -Stoffel, having heard the proposal, at once engaged himself, protesting -that the higher pay Bellarion offered him had no part in the decision. - -'And as for men, there's not one of those who fought with you on the -bluff above the Trebbia but will want to come.' - -They numbered sixty when they were called up, and with Facino's consent -they all went with Bellarion on the morrow. For, having decided upon -departure, there was no reason to delay it. - -Betimes in the morning Bellarion had business with a banker of -Alessandria named Torella with whom Vignate's ransom was deposited in -return for certain bills of exchange negotiable in Berne. Thereafter he -went to take his leave of Facino, and to lay before him a suggestion, -which was the fruit of long thinking in the stillness of a wakeful -night. He was guilty, he knew, of a duplicity, of serving ends very -different, indeed, from those that he pretended. But his conscience was -at ease, because, although he might be using Facino as a tool for the -performance of his ultimate secret aims, yet the immediate aims of -Facino himself would certainly be advanced. - -'There is a service I can perhaps do you as I go,' said Bellarion at -parting. 'You are levying men, my lord, which is a heavy drain upon your -own resources.' - -'Prisoners like Vignate don't fall into the hands of each of us.' - -'Have you thought, instead, of seeking alliances?' - -Facino was disposed to be hilarious. 'With whom? With the dogs that are -baying and snarling round Milan? With Estorre and Gian Carlo and the -like?' - -'There's Theodore of Montferrat,' said Bellarion quietly. - -'So there is, the crafty fox, and the price he'll want for his -alliance.' - -'You might find it convenient to pay it. Like myself, the Marquis -Theodore has ambitions. He covets Vercelli and the lordship of Genoa. -Vercelli would be in the day's work in a war on Milan.' - -'So it would. We might begin hostilities by occupying it. But Genoa, -now ...' - -'Genoa can wait until your own work is done. On those terms Montferrat -comes in with you.' - -'Ha! God's life! You're omniscient.' - -'Not quite. But I know a great deal. I know, for instance, that Theodore -went to Milan at Gabriello's invitation to offer alliance to Gian Maria -on those terms. He left in dudgeon, affronted by Gian Maria's refusal. -He's as vindictive as he's ambitious. Your proposal now might tickle -both emotions.' - -This was sound sense, and Facino admitted it emphatically. - -'Shall I go by way of Montferrat and negotiate the alliance for you with -Messer Theodore?' - -'You'll leave me in your debt if you succeed.' - -'That is what Theodore will say when I propose it to him.' - -'You're sanguine.' - -'I'm certain. So certain that I'll impose a condition. Messer Theodore -shall send the Marquis Gian Giacomo to you to be your esquire. You'll -need an esquire in my place.' - -'And what the devil am I to do with Gian Giacomo?' - -'Make a man of him, and hold him as a guarantee. Theodore grows old and -accidents often happen on a campaign. If he should die before it's -convenient, you'll have the sovereign of Montferrat beside you to -continue the alliance.' - -'By God! You look ahead!' - -'In the hope of seeing something some day. I've said that the Regent -Theodore has his ambitions. Ambitious men are reluctant to relinquish -power, and in a year's time the Marquis Gian Giacomo will be of age to -succeed. Have a care of him when he's with you.' - -Facino looked at him and blew out his cheeks. 'You're bewildering -sometimes. You seem to say a hundred things at once. And your thoughts -aren't always nice.' - -Bellarion sighed. 'My thoughts are coloured by the things they dwell -on.' - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -THE RETURN - - -The Knight Bellarion contrasted the manner of his departure from Casale -a year ago with the manner of his return, and took satisfaction in it. -There was more worldliness in his heart than he suspected. - -He rode, superbly mounted on a tall grey horse, with Stoffel at his side -a little way ahead of the troop of sixty mounted arbalesters, all well -equipped and trim in vizorless steel caps and metal-studded leather -hacketons, their leader rearing a lance from which fluttered a bannerol -bearing Bellarion's device, on a field azure the dog's head argent. The -rear was brought up by a string of pack-mules, laden with tents and -equipment of the company. - -Clearly this tall young knight was a person of consequence, and as a -person of consequence he found himself entreated in Casale. - -The Regent's reception of him admirably blended the condescension proper -to his own rank with the deference due to Bellarion's. The Regent, -you'll remember, had been in Milan at the time of Bellarion's leap to -fame and honour, and that was all that he chose now to remember of -Facino Cane's adoptive son. He had heard also--as all Italy had heard by -now--of how Alessandria had been taken and his present deference was a -reflection of true respect for one who displayed such shining abilities -of military leadership. By no word or sign did he betray recollection of -the young man's activities in Casale a year ago. A tactful gentleman -this Regent of Montferrat. His court, he professed, was honoured by this -visit of the illustrious son of an illustrious sire, and he hoped that -in the peace of Montferrat, Messer Bellarion would rest him awhile from -his late glorious labours. - -'You may yet count me a disturber of that peace, Lord Marquis. I come on -an embassy from my Lord of Biandrate.' - -'Its purport?' - -'The aims wherein your highness failed in Milan might find support in -Alessandria.' - -Theodore took a deep breath. - -'Well, well,' said he. 'We will talk of it when you have dined. Our -first anxiety is for your comfort.' - -Bellarion understood that he had said enough. What Theodore really -needed was time in which to weigh the proposal he perceived before they -came to a discussion of it. - -They dined below in a small room contiguous to the great hall, a cool, -pleasant room whose doors stood wide to those spacious sunlit gardens -into which Bellarion had fled when the Podestà's men pursued him. They -were an intimate family party: the Princess Valeria, the Marquis Gian -Giacomo, his tutor Corsario, and his gentleman, the shifty-eyed young -Lord of Fenestrella. The year that was sped had brought little change to -the court of Casale; yet some little change a shrewd eye might observe. -The Marquis, now in his seventeenth year, had aged materially. He stood -some inches taller, he was thinner and of a leaden pallor. His manner -was restless, his eyes dull, his mouth sullen. The Regent might be -proceeding slowly, but he proceeded surely. No need for the risk of -violent measures against one who was obligingly killing himself by the -profligacy so liberally supplied him. - -The Princess, too, was slighter and paler than when last Bellarion had -seen her. A greater wistfulness haunted her dark eyes; a listlessness -born of dejection hung about her. - -But when Bellarion, conducted by her uncle, had stood unexpectedly -before her, straight as a lance, tall and assured, the pallor had been -swept from her face, the languor from her expression. Her lips had -tightened and her eyes had blazed upon this liar and murderer to whose -treachery she assigned the ruin of her hopes. - -The Regent, observing these signs, made haste to present the visitor to -the young Marquis in terms that should ensure a preservation of the -peace. - -'Giacomo, this is the Knight Bellarion Cane. He comes to us as the envoy -of his illustrious father, the Count of Biandrate, for whose sake as for -his own you will do him honour.' - -The youth looked at him languidly. 'Give you welcome, sir,' he said -without enthusiasm, and wearily proffered his princely hand, which -Bellarion dutifully kissed. - -The Princess made him a stiff, unsmiling inclination of her head in -acknowledgment of his low bow. Fenestrella was jocosely familiar, -Corsario absurdly dignified. - -It was an uncomfortable meal. Fenestrella, having recognized Bellarion -for the prisoner in the Podestà's court a year ago, was beginning to -recall the incident when the Regent headed him off, and swung the talk -to the famous seizure of Alessandria, rehearsing the details of the -affair: how Bellarion disguised as a muleteer had entered the besieged -city, and how pretending himself next a captain of fortune he had -proposed the _camisade_ in which subsequently he had trapped Vignate; -and how thereafter with his own men in the shirts of the camisaders he -had surprised the city. - -'Trick upon trick,' said the Princess in a colourless voice, speaking -now for the first time. - -'Just that,' Bellarion agreed shamelessly. - -'Surely something more,' Theodore protested. 'Never was stratagem more -boldly conceived or more neatly executed. A great feat of leadership, -Ser Bellarion, deserving the renown it has procured you.' - -'And a hundred thousand florins,' said Valeria. - -So, they knew that, too, reflected Bellarion. - -Fenestrella laughed. 'You set a monstrous value on the Lord Vignate.' - -'I hoped his people of Lodi, who had to find the gold, would afterwards -ask themselves if it was worth while to retain a tyrant quite so -costly.' - -'Sir, I have done you wrong,' the Princess confessed. 'I judged you -swayed by the thought of enriching yourself.' - -He affected to miss the sarcasm. 'Your highness would have done me wrong -if you had left that out.' - -Valeria alone did not smile at that. Her brown eyes were hard as they -held his gaze. - -'It was Messer Carmagnola, they tell me, who led the charge into the -city. That is a gallant knight, ever to be found where knocks are to be -taken.' - -'True,' said Bellarion. 'It's all he's fit for. An ox of a man.' - -'That is your view of a straightforward, honest fighter?' - -'Perhaps I am prejudiced in favour of the weapon of intelligence.' - -She leaned forward a little to dispute with him. All were interested and -only Theodore uneasy. - -'It is surely necessary even in the lists. I remember at a tournament in -Milan the valour and address of this knight Carmagnola. He bore off the -palm that day. But, then, you were not present. You had a fever, or was -it an ague?' - -'Most likely an ague; I always shiver at the thought of a personal -encounter.' - -The Regent led the laugh, and now even Valeria smiled, but it was a -smile of purest scorn. - -Bellarion remained solemn. 'Why do you laugh, sirs? It is no more than -true.' - -'True!' cried Fenestrella. 'And it was you unhorsed Vignate!' - -'That was an accident. I slid aside when he rode at me. He overshot his -aim and I took advantage of the moment.' - -Valeria's eyes were still upon him, almost incredulous in their glance. -Oh, he was utterly without shame. He retorted upon her with the truth; -but it was by making the truth sound like a mockery that he defeated -her. She looked away at last, nor spoke to him again. - -Delivered from her attacks, Bellarion addressed himself to the young -Marquis, and by way of polite inquiry into his studies asked him how he -liked Virgil. - -'Virgilio?' quoth the boy, mildly surprised. 'You know Virgilio, do you? -Bah, he's a thieving rogue, but very good with dogs.' - -'I mean the poet, my lord.' - -'Poet? What poet? Poets are a weariness. Valeria reads me their writings -sometimes. God knows why, for there's no sense in them.' - -'If you read them to yourself, you might ...' - -'Read them to myself? Read? God's bones, sir! You take me for a clerk! -Read!' He laughed the notion contemptuously away, and buried his face in -his cup. - -'His highness is a backward scholar,' Corsario deprecated. - -'We do not thrust learning upon him,' Theodore explained. 'He is not -very strong.' - -Valeria's lip quivered. Bellarion perceived that it was with difficulty -she kept silent. - -'Why, you know best, sir,' he lightly said, and changed his subject. - -Thereafter the talk was all of trivial things until the meal was done. -After the Princess had withdrawn and the young Marquis and Fenestrella -had begged leave to go, the Regent dismissed Messer Corsario and the -servants, but retained his guest to the last. - -'I will not keep you now, sir. You'll need to rest. But before we -separate you may think it well to tell me briefly what my Lord Facino -proposes. Thus I may consider it until we come to talk of it more fully -this evening.' - -Bellarion, who knew, perhaps as few men knew, the depth of Theodore's -craft, foresaw a very pretty duel in which he would have need of all his -wits. - -'Briefly, then,' said he, 'your highness desires the recovery of -Vercelli and similarly the restoration of the lordship of Genoa. Alone -you are not in strength to gratify your aims. My Lord Facino, on the -other hand, is avowedly in arms against the Duke of Milan. He is in -sufficient strength to stand successfully on the defensive. But his -desire is to take the offensive, drive out Malatesta, and bring the Duke -to terms. An alliance with your highness would enable each of you to -achieve his ends.' - -The Regent took a turn in the room before he spoke. - -He came at last, to stand before Bellarion, his back to the Gothic -doorway and the sunlight beyond, graceful and tall and so athletically -spare that a boy of twenty might have envied him his figure. He looked -at Bellarion with those pale, close-set eyes which to the discerning -belied the studiedly benign expression of his handsome, shaven face. - -'What guarantees does the Lord of Biandrate offer?' he asked quietly. - -'Guarantees?' echoed Bellarion, and nothing in his blank face betrayed -how his heart had leapt at the Regent's utterance of that word. - -'Guarantees that when I shall have done my part, he will do his.' - -Calm, passionless, and indifferent he might show himself. But if -underneath that well-managed mask he did not seethe with eagerness, -spurred on by ambition and vindictiveness, then Bellarion knew nothing. -If he paused to ask for guarantees, it was because he so ardently -desired the thing Facino offered that he would take no risk of being -cheated. - -Bellarion smiled ingenuously. 'My Lord Facino proposes to open the -campaign by placing you in possession of Vercelli. That is better than a -guarantee. It is payment in advance.' - -A momentary gleam in the pale eyes was instantly suppressed. - -'Part payment,' said the Regent's emotionless voice. 'And then?' - -'Of necessity, to consolidate your possession, the next movement must be -against Milan itself.' - -Slowly the Regent inclined his head. - -'I will consider,' he said gravely. 'I will summon the Council to -deliberate with me and we will weigh the means at our command. -Meanwhile, whatever my ultimate decision, I am honoured by the -proposal.' - -Thus calm, correct, displaying no eagerness, leaving it almost in doubt -whether the consideration was due to inclination or merely to deference -for Facino, the Regent quitted the matter. 'You will need rest, sir.' He -summoned his chamberlain to whom he entrusted his guest, assured the -latter that all within the Palace and City of Casale were at his orders, -and ceremoniously took his leave. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -THE HOSTAGE - - -The golden light of eventide lay on the terraced palace gardens, on the -white temple mirrored in the placid lake, on granite balustrades where -roses trailed, on tall, trim boxwood hedges that were centuries old, and -on smooth emerald lawns where peacocks sauntered. - -Thither the Princess Valeria, trimly sheathed in russet, and her ladies -Isotta and Dionara, in formally stiff brocades, had come to take the -air, and thither came sauntering also the Knight Bellarion and the -pedant Corsario. - -The knight was discoursing Lucretius to the pedant, and the pedant did -not trouble to conceal his boredom. He had no great love of letters, but -displayed a considerable knowledge of Apuleius and Petronius, and -smirkingly quoted lewdnesses now from the 'Golden Ass,' now from -'Trimalchio's Supper.' - -Bellarion forsook Lucretius and became a sympathetic listener, -displaying a flattering wonder at Messer Corsario's learning. Out of the -corner of his eye he watched the upper terrace where the Princess -lingered. - -Presently he ventured a contradiction. Messer Corsario was at fault, he -swore. The line he quoted was not from Petronius, but from Horace. -Corsario insisted, the dispute grew heated. - -'But the lines are verses,' said Bellarion, 'and "Trimalchio's Supper" -is in prose.' - -'True. But verses occur in it.' Corsario kept his patience with -difficulty in the face of such irritating mistaken assurance. - -When Bellarion laughed his assertion to scorn, he went off in a pet to -fetch the book, so that he might finally silence and shame this ignorant -disputant. Bellarion took his way to the terrace above, where the -Princess Valeria sauntered. - -She observed his approach with stern eyes; and when he bowed before her -she addressed him in terms that made of the difference in their ranks a -gulf between them. - -'I do not think, sir, that I sent for you.' - -He preserved an unruffled calm, but his answering assertion sounded -foolish in his own ears. - -'Madonna, I would give much to persuade you that I am your servant.' - -'Your methods do not change, sir. But why should they? Are they not the -methods that have brought you fame?' - -'Will you give your ladies leave a moment, while I speak two words with -you. Messer Corsario will not be absent long. I have sent him off on a -fool's errand, and it may be difficult to make another opportunity.' - -For a long moment she hesitated. Then, swayed, perhaps, by her very -mistrust of him, she waved her ladies back with her fan. - -'Not in that direction, highness,' he said quickly, 'but in that. So -they will be in line with us, and any one looking from the Palace will -not perceive the distance separating us, but imagine us together.' - -She smiled a little in disdainful amusement. But she gave the order. - -'How well equipped you are!' she said. - -'I came into the world, madonna, with nothing but my wits. I must do -what I can with them.' Abruptly, for there was no time to lose, he -plunged into the business. 'I desire to give you a word of warning in -season, lest, with your great talent for misunderstanding, you should be -made uneasy by what I hope to do. If I succeed in that which brings me, -your brother will be sent hence to-morrow, or the next day, to my Lord -Facino's care at Alessandria.' - -That turned her white. 'O God! What now? What villainy is meant?' - -'To remove him from the Regent's reach, to place him somewhere where he -will be safe until the time comes for his own succession. To this end am -I labouring.' - -'You are labouring? You! It is a trap! A trap to ... to ...' She was -starkly terrified. - -'If it were that, why should I tell you? Your foreknowledge will no more -assist than it can hinder. I do this in your service. I am here to -propose an alliance between my Lord Facino and Montferrat. This alliance -was suggested by me for two purposes: to serve Facino's immediate needs, -and to ensure the Regent's ultimate ruin. It may be delayed; but it will -come, just as surely as death comes to each of us. To make your brother -safe while we wait, I shall impose it as a condition of the alliance -that the Marquis Gian Giacomo goes to Facino as a hostage.' - -'Ah! Now I begin to understand.' - -'By which you mean that you begin to misunderstand. I have persuaded -Facino that the Marquis will serve as a hostage for the Regent's good -behaviour, and the Regent shall be made to believe that this is our sole -purpose. But the real aim is as I have told you: to make your brother -safe. By Facino he will be trained in all those things which it imports -that a prince should learn; he will be made to forsake the habits and -pursuits by which he is now being disgraced and ruined. Lady, for your -peace of mind believe me!' He was emphatic, earnest, solemn. - -'Believe you?' she cried out in mental torture. 'I have cause to do -that, have I not? My past dealings with you--indeed, all that is known -of you, bear witness to your truth and candour. By falsehood, trickery, -and treachery you have raised yourself to where you stand to-day. And -you ask me to believe you ... Why ... why should you do this? Why? That -is the only test. What profit do you look to make?' - -He looked at her with pain and misery in his dark eyes. - -'If in this thing there were any design to hurt your brother, I ask you -again, madonna, why should I stand here to tell you what I am about to -attempt?' - -'Why do you tell me at all?' - -'To relieve you from anxiety if I succeed in removing him. To let you -know if I should fail of the attempt, of the earnest desire, to serve -you, although you make it very hard.' - -Messer Corsario was hurrying towards them, a volume in his hands. - -She stood there, silent, stricken, not knowing what to believe, desiring -hungrily to trust Bellarion, yet restrained by every known action in his -past. - -'If I live, madonna,' he said quietly, lowering his voice to a murmur, -'you shall yet ask me to forgive your cruel unbelief.' - -Then he turned to meet Corsario's chuckling triumph, and to submit that -the pedant should convict him of error. - -'Not so great a scholar as he believes himself, this Messer Bellarion,' -Corsario noisily informed the Princess. And then to Bellarion, himself: -'You'll dispute with soldiers, sir, in future, who lack the learning and -the means to put you right. Here are the lines; here in "Trimalchio's -Supper," as I said. See for yourself.' - -Bellarion saw. He simulated confusion. 'My apologies, Messer Corsario, -for having given you the trouble to fetch the book. You win the trick.' - -It was an inauspicious word. To Valeria it was clear that the trick had -lain in temporarily removing Messer Corsario's inconvenient presence, -and that trick Bellarion had won. - -She moved away now with her ladies who had drawn close upon Corsario's -approach, and Bellarion was left to endure the pedant's ineffable -company until supper-time. - -Later that night Theodore carried him off to his own closet to discuss -in private and in greater detail the terms of the proposed alliance. - -His highness had considered and had taken his resolve now that he was -prepared to enter into a treaty. He looked for a clear expression of -satisfaction. But Bellarion disappointed him. - -'Your highness speaks, of course, with the full concurrence of your -Council?' - -'My Council?' The Regent frowned over the question. - -'Where the issues are so grave, my Lord Facino will require to be sure -that all the terms of the treaty are approved by your Council, so that -there may be no going back.' - -'In that case, sir,' he was answered a little frostily, 'you had better -attend in person before the Council to-morrow, and satisfy yourself.' - -That was precisely what Bellarion desired, and having won the point, -whose importance the shrewd Theodore was far from suspecting, Bellarion -had no more to say on the subject that evening. - -In the morning he attended before the Council of Five, the Reggimento, -as it was called, of Montferrat. At the head of the council-table the -Marquis Theodore was enthroned in a chair of State flanked by a -secretary on either hand. Below these sat the councillors, three on one -side and two on the other, all of them important nobles of Montferrat, -and one of them, a white-bearded man of venerable aspect, the head of -that great house of Carreto, which once had disputed with the Paleologi -the sovereignty of the State. - -When the purpose for which Bellarion came had been formally restated, -there was a brief announcement of the resources at Montferrat's disposal -and a demand that the occupation of Vercelli should be the first step of -the alliance. - -When at last Bellarion was categorically informed that Montferrat was -prepared to throw her resources into an alliance which they thanked the -Count of Biandrate for proposing, Bellarion rose to felicitate the -members of the Council upon their decision in terms calculated to fan -their smouldering ardour into a roaring blaze. The restoration to -Montferrat of Vercelli, the subsequent conquest of Genoa were not, -indeed, to be the end in view, but merely a beginning. The two provinces -of High and Low Montferrat into which the State at present was divided -should be united by the conquest of the territory now lying between. -Thus fortified, there would be nothing to prevent Montferrat from -pushing her frontiers northward to the Alps and southward to the sea. -Then, indeed, might she at last resuscitate and realise her old -ambitions. Established not merely as the equal but as the superior of -neighbouring Savoy, with Milan crumbling into ruins on her eastward -frontiers, it was for Montferrat to assume the lordship of Northern -Italy. - -It went to their heads, and when Bellarion resumed his seat it was they -who now pressed the alliance. No longer asking him what means Facino -brought to it, they boasted and exaggerated the importance of those -which they could offer. - -Thus the treaty came there and then to be drawn up, article by article. -The secretaries' pens spluttered and scratched over their parchments, -and throughout it seemed to the Regent and his gleeful councillors that -they were getting the better of the bargain. - -But at the end, when all was done, and the documents complete, Messer -Bellarion had a word to say which was as cold water on the white heat to -which he had wrought their enthusiasm. - -'There remains only the question of a guarantee from you to my Lord -Facino.' - -'Guarantee!' They echoed the word in a tone which clearly said they did -not relish it. The Regent went further. - -'Guarantee of what, sir?' - -'That Montferrat will fulfil her part of the undertaking.' - -'My God, sir! Do you imply a doubt of our honour?' - -'It is no question of honour, highness; but of a bargain whose terms are -clearly to be set forth to avoid subsequent disputes on either side. -Does the word "guarantee" offend your highness? Surely not. For it was -your highness who first used that word between us.' - -The councillors looked at the Regent. The Regent remembered, and was -uncomfortable. - -'Yesterday your highness asked me what guarantees my Lord Facino would -give that he would fulfil his part. I did not cry out in wounded honour, -but at once conceded that the immediate occupation of Vercelli should be -your guarantee. Why, then, sirs, should it give rise to heat in you if -on my lord's behalf I ask a return in kind, something tangible to back -the assurance that when Vercelli is occupied you will march with my Lord -Facino against Milan as he may deem best?' - -'But unless we do that,' said the Regent impatiently, 'there can follow -no conquest of Genoa for us.' - -'If there did not, you would still be in possession of Vercelli and that -is a great deal. Counsels of supineness might desire you to rest content -with that.' - -'Should we heed them, do you suppose?' said the Marquis of Carreto. - -'I do not. Nor will my lord. But suppositions cannot be enough for him.' - -This interruption where all had flowed so smoothly was clearly fretting -them. Another interposed: 'Would it not be well, highness, to hear what -guarantees my Lord of Biandrate will require?' - -And Theodore assenting, Bellarion spoke to anxious ears. - -'It is in the nature of a hostage, and one that will cover various -eventualities. If, for instance, the Marquis Gian Giacomo should come to -the throne before these enterprises are concluded, it is conceivable -that he might decline to be bound by your undertakings. If there were no -other reasons--and they will be plain enough to your excellencies--that -one alone would justify my lord in asking, as he does, that the person -of the Marquis of Montferrat be delivered into his care as a hostage for -the fulfilment of this treaty.' - -Theodore, betrayed into a violent start, sat now pale and thoughtful, -commanding his countenance by an effort. Another in his place would have -raged and stormed and said upon impulse things from which he might not -afterwards retreat. But Theodore Paleologo was no creature of impulse. -He weighed and weighed again this thing, and allowed his councillors to -babble, listening the while. - -They were hostile, of course, to the proposal. It had no precedent, they -said. Whereupon Bellarion smothered them in precedents culled from the -history of the last thousand years. Retreating from that assertion, -then, they became defiant, and assured him that precedent or no -precedent they would never lend themselves to any such course. - -The Regent still said nothing, and whilst vaguely suspicious he wondered -whether the emphatic refusal of the councillors was based upon some -suspicion of himself. Had they, by any chance, despite his caution, been -harbouring mistrust of his relations with his nephew, and did they think -that this proposal of Facino's was some part of his own scheming, -covering some design nefarious to the boy? - -One of them turned to him now: 'Your highness says no word to this.' And -the others with one voice demanded his own pronouncement. He stirred. -His face was grave. - -'I am as stricken as are you. My opinion, sirs, you have already -expressed for me.' - -Bellarion, smiling a little, as one who is entirely mystified, now -answered them. - -'Sirs, suffer me to say that your heat fills me with wonder. My Lord -Facino had expected of you that the proposal would be welcome.' - -'Welcome?' cried Carreto. - -'To view life in a foreign court and camp is acknowledged to be of all -steps the most important in the education of a future prince. This is -now offered to the Lord Gian Giacomo in such a way that two objects -would simultaneously be served.' - -The simple statement, so simply uttered, gave pause to their opposition. - -'But if harm should befall him while in Facino's hands?' cried one. - -'Can you suppose, sirs, that my Lord Facino, himself, would dread the -consequences of such a disaster less than you? Can you suppose that any -measure would be neglected that could make for the safety and well-being -of the Marquis?' - -He thought they wavered a little, reassured by his words. - -'However, sirs, since you feel so strongly,' he continued, 'my Lord -Facino would be very far from wishing me to insist.' One of them drew a -breath of relief. The others, if he could judge their countenances, -moved in apprehension. The Regent remained inscrutable. 'It remains, -sirs,' Bellarion ended, 'for you to propose an alternative guarantee.' - -'Time will be lost in submitting it to my Lord Facino,' Carreto -deplored, and the others by their nods, and one or two by words, showed -the returning eagerness to seal this treaty which meant so much to -Montferrat. - -'Oh, no,' Bellarion reassured them. 'I am empowered to determine. We -have no time to lose. If this treaty is not concluded by to-morrow, my -orders are to assume that no alliance is possible and continue my -journey to the Cantons to levy there the troops we need.' - -They looked at one another blankly, and at last the Regent asked a -question. - -'Did the Count of Biandrate, himself, suggest no alternative against our -refusing him this particular guarantee?' - -'It did not occur to him that you would refuse. And, frankly, sirs, in -refusing that which himself he has suggested, it would be courteous to -supply your reasons, lest he regard it as a reflection upon himself.' - -'The reason, sir, you have already been afforded,' Theodore answered. -'We are reluctant to expose our future sovereign to the perils of a -campaign.' - -'That assumes perils which could not exist for him. But I am perhaps -presuming. I accept your reason, highness. It is idle to debate further -upon a matter which is decided.' - -'Quite idle,' Theodore agreed with him. 'That guarantee we cannot give.' - -'And yet ...' began the Marquis of Carreto. - -The Regent interrupted him, for once he was without suavity. - -'There is "no and yet" to that,' he snapped. - -Again the councillors looked at one another. They were growing uneasy. -The immediate benefits, and the future glory of Montferrat which had -been painted for them, were beginning to dissolve under their eyes like -a mirage. - -In the awkward pause that followed, Bellarion guessed their minds. He -rose. - -'In this matter of determining the guarantee, you will prefer, no doubt, -to deliberate without me.' He bowed in leave-taking. Then paused. - -'It would be a sad thing, indeed, if a treaty so mutually desirable and -so rich in promise to Montferrat should fail for no good reason.' He -bowed again. 'To command, sirs.' - -One of the secretaries came to hold the door for him, and he passed out. -An echo of the Babel that was loosed in that room on his departure -reached him before he had gone a dozen paces. He smiled quietly as he -sought his own apartments. He warmly approved himself. It had been -shrewd of him to keep back all hint of the hostage until he stood before -the Council. If he had breathed a suggestion of it in his preliminary -talks with the Regent, he would have been dismissed at once. Now, -however, Messer Theodore was committed to a battle in which his own -conscience would fight against him, weakening him by fear of discovery -of his true aims. - -'The wicked flee when no man pursueth,' said Bellarion to himself. 'And -you'll never stand to fight this out, my wicked one.' - -An hour and more went by before he was summoned again, to hear the -decision of the Council. That decision is best given in Bellarion's own -words as contained in the letter preserved for us in the Vatican Library -which he wrote that same night to Facino Cane, one of the very few -writings of his which are known to survive. It is couched in the pure -and austere Lingua Tosca which Dante sanctioned, and it may be Englished -as follows: - - -MY DEAR LORD: These will reach you by the hand of Wenzel who goes hence -to Alessandria to-morrow together with ten of my Swiss to serve as -escort for the young Prince of Montferrat. To render this escort worthy -of his rank, it is supplemented by ten Montferrine lances sent by his -highness the Marquis Theodore. Wenzel also bears the treaty with -Montferrat, into which I have entered in your name. Its terms are as we -concerted. It was not without a deal of cajolery and strategy and only -by setting the Regent at odds with his Council that I was able to obtain -as a hostage the person of the Marquis Gian Giacomo. The Regent, had the -choice been given him, would rather, I think, have sent you his right -hand. But he was constrained by the Council who see and rightly only -good to the State in this alliance with your excellent lordship. - -He has insisted, however, that the boy be accompanied by his tutor -Corsario, a scoundrel who has schooled him in naught but lewdness, and -his gentleman Fenestrella, who, though young, is an even greater -preceptor in those same Stygian arts. Since it is proper that a prince -on his travels should be attended by tutor and companion, there was no -good objection that I could make to this. But I beg you, my dear lord, -to regard these two as the agents of the Marquis Theodore, to watch them -closely, and to deal with them drastically should you discover or -suspect even that they practise anything against the young Marquis. It -would be a good service to the boy, and acceptable, no doubt, in the -sight of God, if you were to wring the necks of these two scoundrels out -of hand. But difficulties with the Regent of Montferrat would follow. - -As for the Prince himself, your lordship will find him soft in body, and -empty in mind, or at least empty of all but viciousness. If despite your -many occupations and preoccupations your lordship could trouble yourself -to mend the lad's ways, or to entrust him to those who will undertake -the mending of them and at the same time watch over him vigilantly, you -would perform a deed for which God could not fail to reward your -lordship. - -I need not remind you, my dear lord, that the safety of a hostage is a -very sacred matter, nor should I presume so to remind you but for my -reasons for believing, as your lordship already knows, that this young -Prince may be beset by perils from the very quarters which ordinarily -should be farthest from suspicion. In addition to these twain, the -Marquis is attended by a physician and two body-servants. Of these I -know nothing, wherefore they should be observed as closely as the -others. - -The responsibility under which you lie towards the State of Montferrat -will be your justification for placing attendants of your own choosing -to act jointly with these. The physician should be permitted to give the -boy no physic of which he does not previously partake. In this way, and -if you do not warn him of it beforehand, you may speedily and -effectively be rid of him. - -I am grieved that you should be plagued with this matter at such a -season. But I hope that you will not count the price too dear for the -alliance of Montferrat, which puts into the field at once close upon six -thousand well-equipped men, between horse and foot. You will now be in -sufficient strength to deal at your pleasure with that base Duke and his -Guelphic Riminese brigands. - -Send me your commands by Wenzel, who is to rejoin me at Lucerne. I shall -set out in the morning as soon as the Marquis Gian Giacomo has left -Casale for Alessandria. Your lordship shall have news of me soon again. - -Humbly I kiss the hands of my lady your Countess, and for you, my dear -lord, that God may bless and prosper you is the fervent prayer of this -your son and servant - - BELLARION - - - - -BOOK III - - - - -CHAPTER I - -THE LORD BELLARION - - -On a day of September of the year of Our Lord 1409, a dust-laden -horseman clattered into the courtyard of a palace near the Bridge of the -Trinity in Florence, and announced himself a courier with letters for -the noble Lord Bellarion. - -He was consigned by a man-at-arms to an usher, by the usher to a -chamberlain, and by the chamberlain to a slim young secretary. From this -you will gather that access to the Lord Bellarion was no longer a -rough-and-ready business; and, from this again, that he had travelled -far since detaching himself from the Lord Facino Cane a year ago. - -At the head of the condotta which he had raised, he had fought in the -course of that year a half-score of engagements, now in this service, -now in that, and in all but one he had won easy triumphs. Even his -single failure--which was at Verruno in the pay of the Estes of -Ferrara--was such as to enhance his reputation. Forced by overwhelming -numbers to admit defeat, yet by sheer skill he had baffled the great -Pandolfo's attempt to surround him, and had brought off his condotta -with such little loss that Pandolfo's victory was a barren one. - -His condotta, now known as the 'Company of the White Dog,' from the -device he had adopted, had grown to the number of twelve hundred men, -with a heavy preponderance of infantry, his handling of which was giving -the other great captains of Italy food for thought. In fame he was the -rival of Piccinino, almost the rival of Sforza himself, under whose -banner he had served in the war against his old opponent Buonterzo. And -Fra Serafino da Imola tells us unequivocally in his chronicle that the -ambush in which Buonterzo ended his turbulent life in March of that year -was of Bellarion's planning. Since then he had continued in the service -of the Florentine Republic at a monthly stipend which had gradually been -raised with the growth of his condotta to twenty thousand gold florins. - -Like all famous men, he was not without detractors. He was charged with -a cold ruthlessness, which brought, it was claimed, an added horror into -warfare, shocking adversaries, as it had shocked Buonterzo on the -Trebbia, into ordering that no quarter should be given. So opposed, -indeed, was this ruthlessness to the accepted canons of Italian warfare, -that it was said Bellarion could enlist only Swiss mercenaries who -notoriously were not queasy in these matters. The probable truth, -however, is that he employed only Swiss because they were the best -infantry in the world, and further so as to achieve in his following a -solidarity and cohesion not to be found in other companies, made up of a -medley of nationalities. - -Lastly he was found lacking in those spectacular qualities of -leadership, in that personal knightly prowess by which such men as -Carmagnola took the eye. Never once had he led a charge, stimulating his -followers by his own heroical example; never had he taken part in an -escalade, or even been seen at work in a mêlée. At Subriso, where he -had routed the revolted Pisans, it was said that he had never left the -neighbourhood of his tent and never mounted his horse until the -engagement was all but over. - -Hence, whilst his extraordinary strategic talents were duly respected, -it began to be put about that he was lacking in personal courage. - -Careless of criticism, he had pursued the course he prescribed himself, -gathering laurels as he went. On those laurels he was momentarily -resting in the City of the Lilies when that courier rode into the -courtyard of his palace with letters from the Count of Biandrate. - -The Lord Bellarion, as men now called this leader grown out of the -erstwhile nameless waif, in a pleated full-sleeved tunic of purple satin -gripped about his loins by a golden girdle and with a massive chain of -gold about his neck, stood in a window embrasure to decipher the crabbed -untidy characters, indited from Alessandria on the feast of Saint -Anthony. - -'My dear son,' Facino wrote, 'I need you. So come to me at once with -every man that you can bring. The Duke has called in the French. -Boucicault is in Milan with six thousand men, and has been appointed -ducal governor. Unless I strike quickly before I am myself stricken, -Milan will be made a fief of France and the purblind Duke a vassal of -the French king. It is the Duke's subjects themselves who summon me. The -gout, from which I have been free for months, is troubling me again -infernally. It always seizes me just when I most need my strength. Send -me word by the bearer of these that you follow at speed.' - -Bellarion lowered the letter and gazed out across the spacious sunlit -courtyard. There was a ghost of a smile on his bronzed face, which had -gained in strength and virility during the year that was sped. He was -faintly, disdainfully amused at the plight into which Gian Maria's evil -blundering must have placed him before he could take the desperate step -of calling in the French. - -The Malatesta domination had not been long-lived. Their Guelphic grip -had been ruthlessly crushing the city, where every office, even that of -Podestà, was given into the hands of Guelphs. And that same grip had -been crushing the Duke himself, who discovered belatedly that, in -throwing off the yoke of Facino for that of the Malatesta, he had -exchanged King Log for King Stork. Then, in his shifty, vacillating way, -he sent ambassadors to beg Facino to return. But the ambassadors fell -into the hands of the Malatesta spies, and the Duke was constrained to -shut himself up in the fortress of Porta Giovia to evade their fury. -Whereupon the Malatesta had drawn off to Brescia, which they seized, -Pandolfo loudly boasting that he would not rest until he was Duke of -Milan, so that Gian Maria Visconti should pay the price of breaking -faith with him. - -Terror now drove the Duke to lengths of viciousness and inhumanity -unprecedented even in his own vile career. - -Issuing from the Castle of Porta Giovia to return to his palace so soon -as the immediate menace was removed, he found himself beset by crowds of -his unfortunate people, distracted by the general paralysis of industry -and menaced by famine. Piteously they clamoured about him. - -'Peace, Lord Duke! Peace! Give us Facino for our governor, and give us -peace! Peace, Lord Duke! Peace!' - -His fair face grimly set, his bulging eyes glaring venomously, he had -ridden ahead with his escort, closing his ears to their cries, and more -than one unfortunate was trampled under the horses' hooves as they -passed on. But the cries continuing, that evil boy suddenly reined in -his bravely caparisoned charger. - -'You want peace, you dogs? You'll deafen me with hellcat cries of peace! -What peace do you give me, you filthy rabble? But you shall have peace! -Oho! You shall have it.' He stood in his stirrups, and swung round to -his captain. 'Ho, there, you!' His face was inflamed with fury, a wicked -mockery, and evil mirth hung about his swollen purple lips. So terrible, -indeed, was his aspect that della Torre, who rode beside him, ventured -to set upon his arm a restraining hand. But the Duke flung the hand off, -snarling like a dog at his elderly mentor. He backed his horse until he -was thigh to thigh with his captain. - -'Give them what they ask for,' he commanded. 'Clear me a way through -this dungheap! Use your lances. Give them the peace they want.' - -A great cry arose from those who stood nearest, held there by the press -behind. - -'Lord Duke! Lord Duke!' they wailed. - -And he laughed at them, laughed aloud in maniacal mockery, in maniacal -anticipation of the gratification of his unutterable blood-lust. - -'On! On!' he commanded. 'They are impatient for peace!' - -But the captain of his guard, a gentleman of family, Bertino Mantegazza, -sat his horse appalled, and issued no such order as he was bidden. - -'Lord Duke ...' he began, but got no further, for the Duke, catching the -appealing note in his voice, seeing the horror in his eyes, suddenly -crashed his iron glove into the young man's face. 'God's blood! Will you -stay to argue when I command?' - -Mantegazza reeled under that cruel blow, and with blood suffusing his -broken face would have fallen but that one of his men caught and -supported him in the saddle. - -The Duke laughed to see what he had done, and took command himself. -'Into them! Charge!' he commanded in a shout on which his voice shrilled -up and cracked. And the Bavarian mercenaries who composed the guard, to -whom the Milanese were of no account and all civilians contemptible, -lowered their lances and charged as they were bidden. - -Two hundred of those poor wretches found in death the peace for which -they clamoured. The others fled in panic, and the Duke rode on to the -Broletto through streets which terror had emptied. - -That night he issued an edict forbidding under pain of death the -utterance of the word 'Peace' in his City of Milan. Even from the Mass -must that accursed word be expunged. - -If they had not also clamoured for Facino, it is probable that to Facino -fresh ambassadors would have been sent to invite him to return. But the -Duke would have men know that he was Duke, that he was not to be coerced -by the wishes of his subjects, and so, out of perversity so blind that -it took no account of the pit he might be digging for himself, the Duke -invited Boucicault to Milan. - -When Boucicault made haste to answer, then the appeal to Facino which -should have gone from the Duke went, instead, from the Duke's despairing -subjects. Hence Facino's present summons to Bellarion. - -There was no hesitation in Bellarion's mind and fortunately no obstacle -in his present employment. His agreement with the Florentine Republic -had been determined in the last few days. Its renewal was at present -under consideration. - -He went at once to take his leave of the Signory, and, four days ahead -of his army, he was in Alessandria being affectionately embraced by -Facino. - -He arrived at the very moment at which, in council with his captains and -his ally the Marquis Theodore, who had come over from Vercelli, Facino -was finally determining the course of action. - -'I planned in the sure belief that you would come, bringing at least a -thousand men.' - -'I bring twelve hundred, all of them well seasoned.' - -'Good lad, good lad!' Facino patted his shoulder. 'Come you in and let -them hear it from you.' - -Leaning heavily upon Bellarion's arm, for the gout was troubling him, he -led his adoptive son up that winding stone staircase which Bellarion so -well remembered ascending on that morning when, as a muleteer, he went -to fool Vignate. - -'So Master Theodore is here?' said Bellarion. - -'And glad to come. He's been restive in Vercelli, constantly plaguing me -to place him in possession of Genoa. But I've held him off. I do not -trust Master Theodore sufficiently to do all my part before he has done -any of his. A sly fox that and an unscrupulous!' - -'And the young Marquis?' Bellarion enquired. - -Facino laughed. 'You will not recognise him, he has grown so demure and -staid. He thinks of entering holy orders. He'll yet come to be a man.' - -Bellarion stared. 'That he was well your letters told me. But this ... -How did you accomplish it?' - -'By driving out his tutor and the others who came with him. A foul -crew!' He paused on the stairs. 'I took their measure at a glance, and I -had your hint. When one night Fenestrella and the tutor made the boy -drunk and themselves drunk with him, I sent them back to Theodore with a -letter in which I invited him to deal with them as their abuse of trust -deserved. I dismissed at the same time the physician and the -body-servants, and I informed Theodore that I would place about the -Marquis in future none but persons whom I could trust. Perforce he must -write to thank me. What else could he do? You laugh! Faith, it's -laughable enough! I laughed, too, which didn't prevent me from being -watchful.' - -They resumed the ascent, and Bellarion expressed the hope that the Lady -Beatrice was well. Common courtesy demanded that he should conquer his -reluctance to name her to Facino. He was answered that she was at -Casale, Facino having removed her thither lest Alessandria should come -to be besieged. - -Thus they came to the chamber where the council sat. - -It was the same stone chamber with its vaulted ceiling and Gothic -windows open to the sky in which Vignate had given audience to -Bellarion. But it was no longer as bare as when the austere Tyrant of -Lodi had inhabited it. The walls were hung with arras, and rich -furnishings had been introduced by the more sybaritic Facino. - -About the long oaken table sat five men, four of whom now rose. The one -who remained seated, as if in assertion of his rank, was the Regent of -Montferrat. To the newcomer's bow he returned a short nod. - -'Ah! The Lord Bellarion!' His tone was languid, and Facino fancied that -he sneered. Wherefore he made haste to snap: 'And he brings twelve -hundred men to the enterprise, my lord.' - -'That should ensure him a welcome,' the Regent admitted, but without -cordiality. He seemed, Bellarion observed, out of humour and -disgruntled, shorn of his habitual suavity. - -The others came forward to greet Bellarion. First the magnificent -Carmagnola, taking the eye as ever by the splendour of his raiment, the -dignity of his carriage, and the poise of his handsome fair head. He was -more cordial than Bellarion had yet known him. But there was something -of patronage, of tutorial commendation in his congratulatory allusions -to Bellarion's achievements in the field. - -'He may yet be as great a soldier as yourself, Francesco,' Facino -growled, as he sagged into the chair at the table's head to ease his -leg. - -Missing the irony, Carmagnola bowed. 'You'll make me vain, my lord.' - -'My God!' said Facino. - -Came the brawny, bearded, red-faced Koenigshofen, grinning honest -welcome and taking Bellarion's hand in a grip that almost hurt. Then -followed the swarthy, mercurial little Piedmontese captain, Giasone -Trotta, and lastly there was a slight, graceful, sober, self-contained -boy in whom Bellarion might have failed to recognise the Gian Giacomo -Paleologo of a year ago but for the increased likeness he bore to the -Princess Valeria. So strong was that likeness grown that Bellarion was -conscious of a thrill as he met the solemn, searching gaze of those dark -and rather wistful eyes. - -Place at the table was found for Bellarion, and he was informed of the -situation and of the resolve which had been all but reached. With his -own twelve hundred, and with three thousand men that Montferrat would -send after leaving a sufficient force to garrison Vercelli, Facino could -put eight thousand men into the field, which should be ample for the -undertaking. They were well mounted and well equipped, the equipment -including a dozen cannon of three hundred pounds apiece and ten bombards -throwing balls of two hundred pounds. - -'And the plan of campaign?' Bellarion asked. - -It was expounded to him. It was extremely simple. They were to march on -Milan and reduce it. All was in readiness, as he would have seen for -himself; for as he rode into Alessandria he had come through the great -encampment under the walls, where the army awaited the order to march. - -When Facino had done, Bellarion considered a moment before speaking. - -'There is an alternative,' he said, at last, 'which you may not have -considered. Boucicault is grasping more than he can hold. To occupy -Milan, whose people are hostile to a French domination, he has drawn all -his troops from Genoa, where he has made himself detested by his -excessive rigours. You are confusing the issues here. You plan under the -persuasion that Milan is the enemy, whereas the only real adversary is -Boucicault. To cover himself at one point, he has uncovered at another. -Why aim your blow at his heart which is protected by his shield, when -you may aim it at his head which is unguarded by so much as a helmet?' - -They made him no answer save with their eyes which urged that he, -himself, should answer the question he propounded. - -'March, then, not on Milan, but on Genoa, which he has so foolishly left -open to attack--a folly for which he may have to answer to his master, -the King of France. The Genoese themselves will offer no resistance, and -you may take possession of the city almost without a blow.' - -Approval came warm and eagerly from the Marquis Theodore, to be cut -short by Facino. - -'Wait! Wait!' he rasped. The notion of Theodore's ambitions being -entirely gratified before Theodore should have carried out any of his -own part of the bargain was not at all in accordance with Facino's -views. 'How shall the possession of Genoa bring us to Milan?' - -'It will bring Boucicault to Genoa,' Bellarion answered. - -'It will draw him from his stronghold into the open, and his strength -will be reduced by the fact that he must leave some force behind to keep -the Milanese in subjection during his absence.' - -So strategically sound did the plan appear to Facino upon consideration -that it overcame his reluctance to place the Regent of Montferrat at -this stage in possession of Genoa. - -That reluctance he afterwards expressed to Bellarion, when they were -alone. - -'You do it, not for Theodore, but for yourself,' he was answered. 'As -for Theodore ...' Bellarion smiled quietly. - -'You need not grudge him any advantages. They will prove very transient. -Pay-day will come for him.' - -Facino looked sharply at his adoptive son. 'Why, boy,' said he, at last, -in a voice of wonder. 'What is there between you and Theodore of -Montferrat?' - -'Only my knowledge that he's a scoundrel.' - -'If you mean to make yourself the scourge of scoundrels you'll be busy -in Italy. Why, it's sheer knight-errantry!' - -'You may call it that,' said Bellarion, and became thoughtful. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -THE BATTLE OF NOVI - - -The rest of this affair--this campaign against the too-ambitious vicar -of the King of France--is a matter of history, which you may read in the -chronicles of Messer Corio and elsewhere. - -With a powerful army numbering close upon twelve thousand men, Facino -descended upon Genoa, which surrendered without a blow. At first there -was alarm at the advance of so large an army. The fear of pillage with -its attendant violence ran though the Genoese, who took the precaution -of sending their women and their valuables to the ships in the harbour. -Then the representatives of the people went out to meet Facino, and to -assure him that they would welcome him and the deliverance from the -French yoke provided that he would not bring his troops into the city. - -'The only purpose for which I could wish to do so,' Facino answered from -the litter to which he was confined by the gout, grown worse since he -had left Alessandria, 'would be to enforce the rightful claims of the -Marquis of Montferrat. But if you will take him for your prince, my army -need advance no nearer. On the contrary, I will withdraw it towards Novi -to make of it a shield against the wrath of the Marshal Boucicault when -he returns!' - -And so it befell that, attended only by five hundred of his own men, -Theodore of Montferrat made his state entry into Genoa on the morrow, -hailed as a deliverer by the multitude, whilst Facino fell back on Novi, -there to lie in wait for Boucicault. Nor was his patience tried. Upon -Boucicault confidently preparing for Facino's attack, the news of the -happenings in Genoa fell like a thunderbolt from a clear sky. - -Between fury and panic he quitted Milan, and by his very haste destroyed -what little chance he may ever have had of mending the situation. By -forced marches he reached the plains about Novi to find the road held -against his jaded men. And here he piled error upon error. Being -informed that Facino himself, incapacitated by the gout, had been -carried that morning into Genoa, and that his army was commanded in his -absence by his adoptive son Bellarion, the French commander decided to -strike at once before Facino should recover and return to direct the -operations in person. - -The ground was excellent for cavalry, and entirely of cavalry some four -thousand strong was Boucicault's main battle composed. Leading it in -person, he hurled it upon the enemy centre in a charge which he thought -must irresistibly cleave through. Nor did the mass of infantry of which -Bellarion's centre was composed resist. It yielded ground before the -furious onslaught of the French lances. Indeed, as if swayed by panic, -it began to yield long before any contact was established, and the -French in their rash exultation never noticed the orderliness of that -swift retreat, never suspected the trap, until they were fast caught in -it. For whilst the centre yielded, the wings stood firm, and the wings -were entirely composed of horse, the right commanded by the Piedmontese -Trotta, the left by Carmagnola, who, sulky and disgruntled at his -supersession in a supreme command which he deemed his right, had never -wearied of denouncing this disposition of forces as an insensate -reversal of all the known rules. - -Back and back, ever more swiftly fell the foot. On and on pressed the -French, their lances couched, their voices already clamantly mocking -these opponents, who were being swept away like leaves by the mere gust -of the charge. - -Bellarion, riding in the rear of his retreating infantry with a mounted -trumpeter beside him, uttered a single word. A trumpet blast rang out, -and before its note had died the retreat was abruptly checked. -Koenigshofen's men, who formed the van of that centre, suddenly drove -the butts of their fifteen-foot German pikes into the ground. Each man -of the two front ranks went down on one knee. A terrible hedge of spears -suddenly confronted the men-at-arms of France, riding too impetuously in -their confidence. Half a hundred horses were piked in the first impact. -Then the impetus of those behind, striking the leading ranks which -sought desperately to check, drove them forward onto those formidable -German points. The entire charging mass was instantly thrown into -confusion. - -'That,' said Bellarion grimly, 'will teach Boucicault to respect -infantry in future. Sound the charge!' - -The trumpeter wound another blast, thrice repeated, and in answer, as -Bellarion had preconcerted, the right and left wings, which had -gradually been extending, wheeled about and charged the French on both -flanks simultaneously. Only then did Boucicault perceive whither his -overconfident charge had carried him. Vainly did he seek to rally and -steady his staggering followers. They were enveloped, smashed, ridden -down before they could recover. Boucicault, himself, fighting like a man -possessed, fighting, indeed, for very life, hewed himself a way out of -that terrible press, and contrived to join the other two of the three -battles into which he had divided his army and which were pressing -forward now to the rescue. But they arrived too late. There was nothing -left to rescue. The survivors of the flower of Boucicault's army had -thrown down their arms and accepted quarter, and the reserves ran in to -meet a solid enemy front, which drove wedges into their ranks, and -mercilessly battered them, until Boucicault routed beyond redemption -drew off with what was left. - -'A swift action, which was a model of the harmonious collaboration of -the parts.' Thus did Bellarion describe the battle of Novi which was to -swell his ever-growing fame. - -Boucicault, as Bellarion said, had sought to grasp more than he could -hold when he had responded to Gian Maria's invitation, and at Novi he -lost not only Milan, but Genoa as well. In ignominy he took the road to -France, glad to escape with his life and some battered remnants of his -army, and Italy knew him no more after that day. - -In the Fregoso Palace at Genoa, overlooking the harbour, where Theodore -of Montferrat had taken up his quarters, and where the incapacitated -Facino was temporarily lodged, there was a great banquet on the -following night to celebrate at once the overthrow of the French and the -accession of Theodore as Prince of Genoa. It was attended by -representatives of the twelve greatest families in the State as well as -by Facino, hobbling painfully on a crutch, and his captains; and whilst -the official hero of the hour was Theodore, the new Prince, the real -hero was Bellarion. - -He received without emotion, without any sign either of pride or of -modesty, the tribute lavishly paid him by illustrious men and -distinguished women, by the adulatory congratulatory speech of Theodore, -or the almost malicious stress which Carmagnola laid on his good -fortune. - -'You are well named Bellarione "Fortunato,"' that splendid soldier had -said. 'I am still wondering what would have happened if Boucicault had -perceived the trick in time.' - -Bellarion was coldly amiable in his reply. - -'It will provide you with healthy mental exercise. Consider at the same -time what might have happened if Buonterzo had fathomed our intentions -at Travo, or Vignate had guessed my real purpose at Alessandria.' - -Bellarion moved on, leaving Camagnola to bite his lip and digest the -laughter of his brother captains. - -His interview later with Prince Theodore was more serious. From its -outset he mistrusted the fawning suavity of the courtly Regent, so that, -when at the end of compliments upon his prowess, the Regent proposed to -take him and his company into the pay of Montferrat at a stipend vastly -in excess of that which Florence had lately paid him, Bellarion was not -at all surprised. Two things became immediately clear. First, that -Theodore desired greatly to increase his strength, the only reason for -which could be the shirking, now that all his aims were accomplished, of -his engagements towards Facino. Second, that he took it for granted--as -he had done before--that Bellarion was just a venal, self-seeking -adventurer who would never permit considerations of honour to stand in -the way of profit. - -And the cupidity and calculation now revealed in Bellarion's countenance -assured Theodore that his skill in reading men had not been at fault on -this occasion. - -'You offer me ...' He broke off. Stealthily his glance swept the -glittering groups that moved about the spacious white-and-gold room to -Facino Cane where he sat at the far end in a great crimson chair. He -lowered his voice a little. 'The loggia is empty, my lord. We shall be -more private there.' - -They sauntered forth to that covered balcony overlooking the great -harbour where ranks of shipping drawn up against the mole were -slumbering under the stars. A great towering galley was moving across -the water with furled sails, her gigantic oar-blades flashing silver in -the moonlight. - -With his glance upon that craft, his voice subdued, Bellarion spoke, and -the close-set eyes of the tall, elegant Regent strained to pierce the -shadows about the young condottiero's face. - -'This is a very noble offer, Lord Prince ...' - -'I hope I shall never begrudge a man his worth.' It was a speech true to -the character he loved to assume. 'You are a great soldier, Bellarion. -That fact is now established and admitted.' - -Bellarion did not contradict him. 'I do not perceive at present your -need for a great soldier, highness. True, your proposal seems to argue -plans already formed. But unless I know something of them, unless I may -judge for myself the likely extent of the service you require, these -generous terms may in effect prove an illusion.' - -Theodore resumed his momentarily suspended breath. He even laughed a -little, now that the venal reason for Bellarion's curiosity was -supplied. But he deemed it wise to probe a little further. - -'You are, as I understand, under no present engagement to the Count of -Biandrate?' - -Bellarion's answer was very prompt. - -'Under none. In discharge of past favours I engaged to assist him in the -campaign against the Marshal Boucicault. That campaign is now ended, and -with it my engagement. I am in the market, as it were, my lord.' - -'That is what I assumed. Else, of course, I should not have come to you -with my offer. I lose no time because soon you will be receiving other -proposals. That is inevitable. For the same reason I name a stipend -which I believe is higher than any condottiero has ever yet commanded.' - -'But you have not named a term. That was why I desired to know your -plans so that for myself I might judge the term.' - -'I will make the engagement to endure for three years,' said Theodore. - -'The proposal becomes generous, indeed.' - -'Is it acceptable?' - -Bellarion laughed softly. 'I should be greedy if it were not.' - -'It will carry the usual condition that you engage for such service as I -may require and against any whom circumstances may make my enemy.' - -'Naturally,' said Bellarion. But he seemed to falter a little. -'Naturally,' he repeated. 'And yet ...' He paused, and Theodore waited, -craftily refraining from any word that should curb him in opening his -mind. 'And yet I should prefer that service against my Lord Facino be -excepted.' - -'You would prefer it?' said Theodore. 'But do you make it a condition?' - -Bellarion's hesitation revealed him to the Regent for a man torn between -interest and scruples. Weakly, at last, he said: 'I would not willingly -go in arms against him.' - -'Not willingly? That I can understand. But you do not answer my -question. Do you make it a condition?' - -Still Bellarion avoided answering. - -'Would the condition make my employment impossible?' And now it was -Theodore who hesitated, or seemed to hesitate. 'It would,' he said at -last. Very quickly he added: 'Nothing is less likely than that Facino -and I should be opposed to each other. Yet you'll understand that I -could not possibly employ a condottiero who would have the right to -desert me in such a contingency.' - -'Oh, yes. I understand that. I have understood it from the first. I am -foolish, I suppose, to hesitate where the terms are so generous.' He -sighed, a man whose conscience was in labour. 'My Lord Facino could -hardly blame me ...' He left the sentence unfinished. And Theodore to -end the rogue's hesitation threw more weight into the scales. - -'And there will be guarantees,' he said. - -'Guarantees? Ah!' - -'The lands of Asti along the Tanaro from Revigliasco to Margaria to be -made into a fief, and placed under your vicarship with the title of -Count of Asti.' - -Bellarion caught his breath. He turned to face the Marquis, and in the -moonlight his countenance looked very white. - -'My lord, you promise something that is not yours to bestow.' - -'It is to make it mine that I require your service. I am frank, you -see.' - -Bellarion saw more. He saw the infernal subtlety with which this tempter -went to work. He made clear his intentions, which must amount to no less -than the conquest and occupation of all those rich lands which lay -between High and Low Montferrat. To accomplish this, Alessandria, -Valenza, and a score of other cities now within the Duchy of Milan would -pass under his dominion. Inevitably, then, must there be war with -Facino, who to the end of his days would be in arms to preserve the -integrity of the Duchy. And Theodore offered this condottiero, whose -services he coveted, a dazzling reward to be gained only when those aims -were fulfilled. - -On that seducer's arm Bellarion placed a hand that shook with -excitement. - -'You mean this, my lord? It is a solemn undertaking.' - -With difficulty Theodore preserved his gravity. How shrewdly had he not -taken the measure of this greedy rogue! - -'Your patent shall be made out in anticipation, and signed at the same -time as the contract.' - -Bellarion stared out to sea. 'Count Bellarion of Asti!' he murmured, a -man dazzled, dazed. Suddenly he laughed, and laughing surrendered his -last scruple as Theodore was already confident that he would. 'When do -we sign, Lord Prince?' - -'To-morrow morning, Lord Count,' Theodore answered with a tight-lipped -smile, and on that, the matter satisfactorily concluded, they quitted -the loggia and parted company. - -They met again for the signing of the documents early on the following -morning in the Regent's closet, in the presence of the notary who had -drawn up the contract at Theodore's dictation, of two gentlemen of -Montferrat, and of Werner von Stoffel, who accompanied Bellarion, and -who, as Bellarion's lieutenant, was an interested party. - -The notary read first the contract, which Bellarion pronounced correct -in all particulars, and then the ennobling parchment whereby Theodore -created him Count of Asti, anticipatorily detailing the lands which he -was to hold in fief. This document already signed and sealed was -delivered to Bellarion together with the contract which he was now -invited to sign. The notary dipped a quill and proffered it. But -Bellarion looked at the Regent. - -'Documents,' he said, 'are perishable, and the matter contained in these -is grave. For which reason I have brought with me a witness, who in case -of need can hereafter testify to your undertaking, my lord.' - -The Marquis frowned. 'Let Messer Stoffel examine them for himself then.' - -'Not Messer Stoffel. The witness I prefer waits in your antechamber, -highness.' He stepped quickly to the door, followed by the Regent's -surprised glance. He pulled it open, and at once Facino was revealed to -them, grave of countenance, leaning upon his crutch. - -The Regent made a noise in his throat, as Facino hobbled in to take the -parchments which Bellarion proffered him. Thereafter there was a spell -of dreadful silence broken at last by the Lord Theodore who was unable -longer to control himself. - -'You miserable trickster! You low-born, swaggering Judas! I should have -known better than to trust you! I should have known that you'd be true -to your false, shifty nature. You dirty fox!' - -'A trickster! A Judas! A fox!' Bellarion appealed mildly to the company -against the injustice of these epithets. 'But why such violence of -terms? Could I in loyalty to my adoptive father put my signature to this -contract until it had received his approval?' - -'You mock me, you vile son of a dog!' - -Facino looked up. His face was stern, his eyes smouldered. - -'Think of some fouler epithet, my lord, so that I may cast it at you. So -far no term that you have used will serve my need.' - -That gave Theodore pause in his reviling of another. But only for a -moment. Almost at once he was leaping furiously towards Facino. The -feral nature under his silken exterior was now displayed. He was a man -of his hands, this Regent of Montferrat, and, beggared of words to meet -the present case, he was prepared for deeds. Suddenly he found Bellarion -in his way, the bold, mocking eyes level with his own, and Bellarion's -right hand was behind his back, where the heavy dagger hung. - -'Shall we be calm?' Bellarion was saying. 'There are half a dozen men of -mine in the anteroom if you want violence.' - -He fell back, and for all that his eyes still glared he made an obvious -effort to regain his self-command. It was difficult in the face of -Facino's contemptuous laughter and the words Facino was using. - -'You treacherous slug! I place you in possession of Vercelli; I make you -Prince of Genoa, before calling upon you to strike a single blow on my -behalf, and you prepare to use this new-found power against me! You'll -drive me from Alessandria! You'll seduce from me the best among my -captains to turn his weapons against me in your service! If Bellarion -had been an ingrate like yourself, if he had not been staunch and loyal, -whom you dare to call a Judas, I might have known nothing of this until -too late to guard myself. But I know you now, you dastardly usurper, -and, by the Bones of God, your days are numbered. You'll prepare for war -on Facino Cane, will you? Prepare, then, for, by the Passion, that war -is coming to you.' - -Theodore stood there white to the lips, between his two dismayed -gentlemen, and said no word in answer. - -Facino, with curling lip, considered him. - -'I'd never have believed it if I had not read these for myself,' he -added. Then proffered the documents to Bellarion again. 'Give him back -his parchments, and let us go. The sight of the creature nauseates me.' -And without more, he hobbled out. - -Bellarion lingered to tear the parchments across and across. He cast -them from him, bowed ironically, and was going out with Stoffel when the -Regent found his voice at last. - -'You kite-hearted trickster! What stipend have you wrung from Facino as -the price of this betrayal?' - -Bellarion paused on the threshold. 'No stipend, my lord,' he answered -equably. 'Merely a condition: that so soon as the affairs of Milan are -settled, he will see justice done to your nephew, the Marquis Gian -Giacomo, now of age to succeed, and put a definite end to your -usurpation.' - -His sheer amazement betrayed from him the sudden question. 'What is Gian -Giacomo to you, villain?' - -'Something he is, or else I should never have been at pains to make him -safe from you by demanding him as a hostage. I have been labouring for -him for longer than you think, highness.' - -'You have been labouring for him? You? In whose pay?' - -Bellarion sighed. 'You must be supposing me a tradesman, even when I am -really that quite senseless thing, a knight-errant.' And he went out -with Stoffel. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -FACINO'S RETURN - - -A strong party of men-at-arms rode out of Genoa that morning, their -corselets flashing in the sunshine, and took the upland road by the -valley of the Scrivia towards Novi and Facino's camp. In their midst -went a mule litter wherein Facino brooded upon the baseness and -ingratitude of men, and asked himself whether perhaps his ambitious -Countess were not justified of her impatience with him because he -laboured for purposes other than the aggrandisement of himself. - -From Novi he despatched Carmagnola with a strong escort to Casale to -bring the Countess Beatrice thence to Alessandria without loss of time. -He had no mind to allow Theodore to hold her as a hostage to set against -Gian Giacomo who remained with Facino. - -Three days after leaving Novi, Facino's army, reduced by Theodore's -contingent of three thousand men which had been left behind, but still -in great strength, reached Vigevano, and halted there to encamp again -outside the town. Facino's vanity was the main reason. He would not -cross the Ticino until he could sit a horse again, so that he might ride -lance on thigh into Milan. Already his condition was greatly improved -under the ministrations of a Genoese physician named Mombelli, renowned -for his treatment of the podagric habit, who was now in Facino's train. - -A week passed, and Facino now completely restored was only restrained -from pushing on by the arguments of his physician. Meanwhile, however, -if he did not go to Milan, many from Milan were coming to him. - -Amongst the first to arrive was the firebrand Pusterla of Venegono, who -out of his passionate vindictiveness came to urge Facino to hang Gian -Maria and make himself Duke of Milan, assuring him of the support of all -the Ghibelline faction. Facino heard him without emotion, and would -commit himself to nothing. - -Amongst the last to arrive was the Duke himself, in a rash trustfulness -which revealed the desperate view he must take of his own case and of -the helplessness to which his folly and faithlessness had reduced him. -He came accompanied by his evil genius Antonio della Torre, the fop -Lonate, the captain of his guard Bertino Mantegazza, and a paltry escort -of a hundred lances. - -With those three attending him he was received by Facino in the house of -the Ducal Prefect of Vigevano. - -'Your highness honours me by this proof of your trust in my integrity,' -said Facino, bending to kiss the jewelled ducal hand. - -'Integrity!' The Duke's grotesque face was white, his red eyebrows drawn -together in a scowl. 'Is it integrity that brings you in arms against -me, Facino?' - -'Not against you, Lord Duke. Never yet have I stood in arms against your -highness. It is upon your enemies that I make war. I have no aim but the -restoration of peace to your dominions.' - -'Fine words on the lips of a mutinous traitor!' sneered the Duke. He -flung himself petulantly into a chair. - -'If your highness believed that, you would not dare to come here.' - -'Not dare? God's bones, man! Are these words for me? I am Duke of -Milan.' - -'I study to remember it, highness,' said Facino, and the rumblings of -anger in his voice drove della Torre to pluck at his master's sleeve. - -Thus warned, Gian Maria changed the subject but not the tone. 'You know -why I am here?' - -'To permit me, I hope, to place myself at your potency's commands.' - -'Ah! Bah! You make me sick with your fair words.' He grew sullen. 'Come, -man. What is your price?' - -'My price, highness? What does your highness conceive I have to sell?' - -'A little patience with his magnificence, my lord,' della Torre begged. - -'I thought I was displaying it,' said Facino. 'Otherwise it might be -very bad for everybody.' He was really growing angry. - -And now the idiot Duke must needs go prodding him into fury. - -'What's that? Do you threaten me? Why, here's an insolent dog!' - -Facino turned livid with passion. A tall fellow among his captains, very -noble-looking in cloth of silver under a blue houppelande, laughed -aloud. The pale, bulging eyes of Gian Maria sought him out venomously. - -'You laugh, knave?' he snarled, and came to his feet, outraged by the -indignity. 'What is here for laughter?' - -Bellarion laughed again as he answered: 'Yourself, Lord Duke, who in -yourself are nothing. You are Duke of Milan at present by the grace of -God and the favour of Facino Cane. Yet you do not hesitate to offend -against both.' - -'Quiet, Bellarion,' Facino growled. 'I need no advocate.' - -'Bellarion!' the Duke echoed, glaring malevolently. 'I remember you, and -remember you I shall. You shall be taught ...' - -'By God, it is your highness shall be taught!' Facino crashed into the -threatening speech roaring like a thundergod. 'Get you hence, back to -your Milan until I come to give you the lesson that you need, and thank -God that you are your father's son and I have grace enough to remember -it, for otherwise you'd never go hence alive! Away with you, and get -yourself schooled in manners before we meet again or as God's my life -I'll birch you with these hands.' - -Terrified, cowering before that raging storm, the line of which had -never yet broken about his ducal head, Gian Maria shrank back until his -three companions were between himself and Facino. Della Torre, almost -trembling, sought to pacify the angry condottiero. - -'My lord! My lord! This is not worthy!' - -'Not worthy! Is it worthy that I shall be called "dog" by a -cross-grained brat to whom I've played the foster-father? Out of my -sight, sir! Out of my sight, all of you! The door, Bellarion! The Duke -of Milan to the door!' - -They went without another word, fearing, indeed, that another word might -be their last. But they did not yet return to Milan. They remained in -Vigevano, and that evening della Torre came seeking audience again of -Facino to make the Duke's peace with him, and Facino, having swallowed -his rage by then, consented to receive his highness once more. - -The young man came, this time well schooled in prudence, to announce -that he was prepared to give Facino peaceful entrance into Milan and to -restore him to his office of ducal governor. In short, that he was -prepared to accord all that which he had no power to refuse. - -Facino's answer was brief and clear. He would accept the office again, -provided that it was bestowed upon him for a term of three years, and -the bestowal guaranteed by an oath of fealty to be sworn upon his hands -by the Syndics of the Grand Council. Further, the Castle of Porta Giovia -was to be delivered into his keeping absolutely, and not only the -Guelphic Sanseverino, who now held the office of Podestà, but all other -Guelphs holding offices of State must be dismissed. Lastly, Antonio -della Torre, whom Facino accused of being at the root of most of the -trouble which had distracted Milan, must go into banishment together -with Lonate. - -This last was the condition that Gian Maria would not swallow. He swore -it was a vile attempt to deprive him of all his friends. - -Thus the conference ended inconclusively, and it was not until three -weeks later that the Duke finally yielded, and accepted Facino's terms -in their entirety. - -On the evening of Wednesday, the sixth of November of that year, -attended by a large company, Facino Cane, Count of Biandrate, rode into -Milan to resume his governorship, a governorship which he was resolved -to render absolute this time. They entered the city in a downpour of -rain, notwithstanding which the streets were thronged by the people who -turned out to welcome the man in whom they beheld their saviour. - -And in the Old Broletto, the young Duke, without a single friendly -Guelph at hand to comfort him, sat listening to that uproar, gnawing his -finger-nails and shuddering with rage and spite. - -It becomes necessary, however, to remember, lest we should be swept -along by this stream of Viscontean history, that this present chronicle -is concerned not with the fortunes of Milan, but with those of -Bellarion, and that in these Facino Cane and Gian Maria Visconti are -concerned only to the extent of the part they bore in moulding them. - -In the confused pages of old Corio you may read in detail, though you -may not always clearly understand, the events that followed upon -Facino's triumphant return to Milan. You will gather that the strength -in which he was known to be gave pause to Malatesta's plans to seize the -Duchy; that in fact the arch-Guelph chose to content himself with his -usurpation of the lordship of Brescia and Bergamo, and in Bergamo he -remained until Facino went to seek him there some two years later. If he -did not go before, it was because other more immediate and active -enemies of Milan claimed his attention. Vignate was in arms again, as -were also Estorre Visconti and his nephew Giovanni Carlo, and a host of -lesser insurgents, chief of whom was the Duke's own brother, that -Filippo Maria Visconti who was Count of Pavia. By the Ghibellines who -had fled to him from Milan during the days of Malatesta and Boucicault's -domination, Filippo Maria had been flattered into believing that he was -that party's only hope in Northern Italy. His ambition thus aroused, he -was ready to take advantage of the general distraction, and to -appropriate for himself the ducal chlamys. To this purpose was he arming -when Facino returned to Milan, and news of his preparations reached -Facino whilst he was suppressing the various rebellious outbreaks in the -Milanese, stamping out the embers of revolt in such places as Desio and -Gorgonzola. Only when he had restored order, established a proper -administration, and so brought back tranquillity to that harassed land, -did he turn his attention to the menace of the enemies farther afield. -And the first of these was Filippo Maria. He marched on Pavia, carried -the city by assault and put it to sack, choosing of all nights in the -year for that operation the night of Christmas. - -That sack of Pavia is one of the most unsparing and terrible in the -terrible history of sacks, and the deed remains a blot upon the fame of -a soldier who, although rough and occasionally even brutal in his ways, -was yet a leader of high principles and a high sense of duty. - -Thereafter he dealt with Filippo Maria much as he had dealt with his -ducal brother. He appointed himself governor of the young man's -dominions, filled the offices of State with men in his own confidence -and completely stripped the Count of authority. - -The fat, flabby young Prince submitted in a singularly apathetic -fashion. He was of solitary, studious habits, a recluse, almost savagely -shy, shunning the society of men because of his excessive consciousness -of his own grotesque ugliness. - -The spark of ambition that had been struck from him having been thus -summarily quenched, he retired to his books again, and let Facino have -his way with the State, nor complained so long as Facino left him in the -enjoyment of the little that was really necessary to his eremitic ways. - -Facino made now of Pavia his headquarters, coming to dwell in the great -castle itself, and bringing thither from Alessandria his Countess. And -with the Countess of Biandrate came also the Princess Valeria of -Montferrat to rejoin at last her brother who had continued throughout in -Facino's train. The Princess had left Casale with the Countess when -Carmagnola appeared there as Facino's envoy with an escort. Her going -had been in the nature of a flight, whose object had been first to -rejoin her cherished brother, and second, to remove herself from the -power of her uncle, which, in all the circumstances made clear by -Carmagnola, seemed prudent. It is possible that she may also have hoped -by her presence near Facino to stimulate him into the fulfilment of the -threat against the Regent on which he had parted from him in Genoa. - -But Facino had still more immediate matters to rectify before coming to -the affair of the Lord Theodore. The Regent must wait his turn. - -He moved against Canturio in the following May, and made short work of -it. The campaign against Crema followed, and meanwhile Bellarion, with a -condotta increased to fifteen hundred men and supported by Koenigshofen, -had marched out of Milan to deal with the rebellious Bignate, whom in -the end he finally and definitely defeated. That done he returned to -Milan, where, ever since Facino's descent upon Pavia, he had held the -position of Facino's deputy, and had earned respect and even affection -by the equable wisdom of his rule. - -All this in greater detail you will find set forth by Corio and Fra -Serafino of Imola, and it is Fra Serafino who tells us that Facino, -determined that Bellarion should not suffer by the loyalty which had -made him refuse the County of Asti, had constrained Gian Maria to create -him Count of Gavi, and the Commune of Milan to enlist the services of -his condotta for two years at a stipend of thirty thousand ducats -monthly. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -THE COUNT OF PAVIA - - -In the vast park of Pavia the trees stood leafless and black against the -white shroud of snow that covered the chilled earth. The river Ticino -gurgled and swirled about the hundred granite pillars which carried the -great roofed bridge, five hundred feet in length, spanning its grey and -turgid waters. Beyond this, Pavia the Learned reared above white roofs -her hundred snow-capped towers to the grey December sky, and beyond the -city, isolated, within the girdle of a moat that was both wide and deep, -stood the massive square castle, pink as coral, strong as iron, at once -impregnable fortress and unrivalled palace, one of the great monuments -of Viscontian power and splendour, described by Petrarch as the -princeliest pile in Italy. - -The pride of the place was the library, a spacious square chamber in one -of the rectangular towers that rose at each of the four corners of the -castle. The floor was of coloured mosaics, figuring birds and beasts, -the ceiling of ultramarine star-flecked in gold, and along the walls was -ranged a collection of some nine hundred manuscript parchment volumes -bound in velvet and damask, or in gold and silver brocades. Their -contents contained all that was known of theology, astrology, medicine, -music, geometry, rhetoric, and the other sciences. This room was the -favourite haunt of the lonely, morose, and studious boy, the great Gian -Galeazzo's younger son, Filippo Maria Visconti, Count of Pavia. - -He sat there now, by the log fire that hissed and spluttered and flamed -on the cavernous hearth, diffusing warmth and a fragrance of pine -throughout the chamber. And with him at chess sat the Lord Bellarion -Cane, Count of Gavi, one of the new-found friends who had invaded his -loneliness, and broken through the savage shyness which solitude and -friendlessness had set about him like a shell. - -The others, the dark and handsome Countess of Biandrate, the fair and -now almost ethereal Princess of Montferrat, and that sturdier -counterpart of herself, her brother, were in the background by one of -the two-light windows with trefoil arches springing from slender -monials. - -The Princess was bending low over a frame, embroidering in red and gold -and blue an altar-cloth for San Pietro in Ciel d'Oro. The Countess was -yawning over a beautifully illuminated copy of Petrarch's 'Trionfo -d'Amore.' The boy sat idle and listless between them, watching his -sister's white tapering fingers as they flashed to and fro. - -Presently he rose, sauntered across to the players, drew up a stool, and -sat down to watch the game over which they brooded silently. - -A crutch lay beside Bellarion, and his right leg was thrust out stiff -and unbending, to explain why he sat here on this day of late December -playing chess, whilst the campaign against Malatesta continued to rage -in the hills of Bergamo. He was suffering the penalty of the pioneer. -Having already demonstrated to his contemporaries that infantry, when -properly organised and manœuvred, can hold its own in the field against -cavalry, he had been turning his attention to artillery. Two months ago -he had mounted a park of guns under the walls of Bergamo with the -intention of breaching them. But at the outset of his operations a -bombard had burst, killing two of his bombardiers and breaking his -thigh, thus proving Facino's contention that artillery was a danger only -to those who employed it. - -The physician Mombelli, who still continued in Facino's train, had set -the bone, whereafter Bellarion had been carefully packed into a mule -litter, and by roads, which torrential rains had reduced to quagmires, -he had been despatched to Pavia to get himself mended. His removal from -the army was regretted by everybody with two exceptions: Carmagnola, -glad to be relieved of a brother captain by comparison with whose -military methods his own were constantly suffering in the general -esteem; and Filippo Maria, when he discovered in Bellarion a -chess-player who was not only his equal but his master, and who in other -ways won the esteem of that very friendless boy. The Princess Valeria -was dismayed that this man, who out of unconquerable prejudice she -continued to scorn and mistrust, should become for a season her fellow -inquiline. And it was in vain that Gian Giacomo, who in the course of -his reformation had come to conceive a certain regard for Bellarion, -sought to combat his sister's deep-rooted prejudice. - -When he insisted that it was by Bellarion's contriving that he had been -removed from his uncle's control, she had been moved to vehement scorn -of his credulity. - -'That is what the trickster would have us think. He no more than carried -out the orders of the Count of Biandrate. His whole life bears witness -to his false nature.' - -'Nay, now, Valeria, nay. You'll not deny that he is what all Italy now -proclaims him: one of the greatest captains of his time.' - -'And how has he made himself that? Is it by knightly qualities, by -soldierly virtues? All the world knows that he prevails by guile and -trickery.' - -'You've been listening to Carmagnola,' said her brother. 'He would give -an eye for Bellarion's skill.' - -'You're but a boy,' she reminded him with some asperity. - -'And Carmagnola, of course, is a handsome man.' - -She crimsoned at the sly tone. On odd visits to Pavia, Carmagnola had -been very attentive to the Princess, employing all a peacock's arts of -self-display to dazzle her. - -'He is an honest gentleman,' she countered hotly. 'It is better to trust -an upright, honest soldier than a sly schemer whose falsehood has been -proven to us.' - -'If he schemes my ruin for my uncle's profit, he goes about it oddly, -neglecting opportunities.' - -She looked at him with compassion. 'Bellarion never aims where he looks. -It is the world says that of him, not I.' - -'And at what do you suspect that he is aiming now?' - -Her deep eyes grew thoughtful. 'What if he serves our uncle to destroy -us, only so that in the end he may destroy our uncle to his own -advantage? What if he should aim at a throne?' - -Gian Giacomo thought the notion fantastic, the fruit of too much -ill-ordered brooding. He said so, laughing. - -'If you had studied his methods, Giannino, you would not say that. See -how he has wrought his own advancement. In four short years this son of -nobody, without so much as a name of his own has become the Knight -Bellarion, the Lord Bellarion of the Company of the White Dog, and now -the Lord Count of Gavi holding the rich lands of Gavi in feud.' - -One there was who might have told her things which would have corrected -her judgment, and that was Facino's Countess. For the Lady Beatrice knew -the truth of those events in Montferrat which were at the root of the -Princess Valeria's bitter prejudice, of which also she was aware. - -'You hate him very bitterly,' the Countess told her once when Bellarion -had been the subject of their talk. - -'Would not you, if you were in my place?' - -And the Countess, looking at her with those long indolent eyes of hers, -an inscrutable smile on her red lips, had answered with languorous -slowness: 'In your place it is possible that I should.' - -The tone and the smile had intrigued the Princess for many a day -thereafter. But either she was too proud to ask what the Countess had -meant, or else afraid. - -When after some eight weeks abed, Bellarion had begun to hobble about -the castle, and it was impossible for the Princess entirely to avoid -him, she was careful never to be alone where he might so surprise her, -using him when they met in the company of others with a distant, frigid -courtesy, which is perhaps the most piercing of all hostility. - -If it wounded Bellarion, he gave no sign. He was--and therein lay half -the secret of his strength--a very patient man. He was content to wait -for the day when by his contriving the reckoning should be presented to -the Marquis Theodore, and she should know at last whose servant he -really was. Meanwhile, he modelled his demeanour upon her own. He did -not seek her company, nor indeed that of any in the castle save Filippo -Maria, with whom he would spend long hours at chess or instructing him -out of his own deep learning supported by one or another of the -treatises in that fine library. - -Until the coming of Bellarion, the Count of Pavia had believed himself a -strong chess-player. Bellarion had made him realise that his knowledge -of the game was elementary. Where against former opponents he had swept -to easy triumphs, he now groaned and puffed and sweated over the board -to lessen the ignominy of his inevitable defeats. - -To-day, however, he was groaning less than usual. He had piled up a -well-supported attack on Bellarion's flank, and for the first time in -weeks--for these games had begun whilst Bellarion was still abed--he saw -victory ahead. With a broad smile he brought up a bishop further to -strengthen the mass of his attack. He saw his way to give check in three -and checkmate in four moves. - -Although only in his twentieth year, he was of a hog-like bulk. Of no -more than middle height, he looked tall when seated, for all the length -of him was in his flabby, paunchy body. His limbs were short and -shapeless. His face was as round as the full moon and as pale. A great -dewlap spread beneath his chin, and his neck behind hung in loose fat -folds upon his collar, so that the back of his head, which was flat, -seemed to slope inwards towards the crown. His short black hair was -smooth and sleek as a velvet cap, and a fringe of it across his forehead -descended almost to the heavy black eyebrows, thus masking the -intellectual depth of the only noble feature of that ignoble -countenance. Of his father all that he had inherited physically was the -hooked, predatory nose. His mouth was coarsely shaped and its lines -confirmed the impression of cruelty you gathered from the dark eyes -which were small and lack-lustre as a snake's. And the impression was a -true one, for the soul of this shy, morose young Prince was not without -its share of that sadic cruelty which marked all the men of his race. - -To meet the bishop's move, Bellarion advanced a knight. The Prince's -laugh rang through the silent room. It was a shrill almost womanish -laugh, and it was seldom heard. High-pitched, too, was the voice that -followed. - -'You but delay the inevitable, Bellarion,' he said, and took the knight. - -But the move of the knight, which had appeared purely defensive to the -Prince in his intentness upon his own attack, had served to uncover the -file of Bellarion's queen. Supports had been previously and just as -cunningly provided. Bellarion advanced his hand, a long beautiful hand -upon which glowed a great carved sapphire set in brilliants--the blue -and white that were his colours. Forth flashed his queen across the -board. - -'Checkmate, Lord Prince,' said Bellarion quietly, and sank back smiling -into the brocaded chair. - -Filippo Maria stared unbelieving at the board. The lines of his mouth -drooped, and his great pendulous cheeks trembled. Almost he seemed on -the point of tears. - -'God rot you, Bellarion! Always, always is it the same! I plan and build -and whilst you seem to do no more than defend, you are preparing a -death-stroke in an unexpected quarter.' Between jest and earnest he -added: 'You slippery rogue! Always you defeat me by a trick.' - -The Princess Valeria looked up from her embroidery on the word. -Bellarion caught the movement and the glance in his direction. He knew -the thought behind, and it was that thought he answered. - -'In the field, my opponents use the same word to decry me. But those who -are with me applaud my skill.' He laughed. 'Truth is an elusive thing, -highness, as Pontius Pilate knew. The aspect of a fact depends upon the -angle from which you view it.' - -Filippo Maria sat back, his great chin sunk to his breast, his podgy -white hands gripping the arms of his chair, his humour sullen. - -'I'll play no more to-day,' he said. - -The Countess rose and crossed the room with a rustle of stiff brocade of -black and gold. - -'Let me remove the board,' she said. 'A vile, dull game. I wonder that -you can waste such hours upon it.' - -Filippo Maria raised his beady eyes. They kindled as they observed her, -raking her generous yet supple lines from head to foot. It was not the -first time that the watchful Bellarion had seen him look so at Facino's -lady, nor the first time that he had seen her wantonly display herself -to provoke that unmistakable regard. She bent now to the board, and -Filippo's smouldering glance was upon the warm ivory beauty of her neck, -and the swell of her breast revealed by the low-cut gown. - -'It is human to despise what we do not understand,' Bellarion was -answering her. - -'You would defend the game, of course, since you excel in it. That is -what you love, Bellarion; to excel; to wield mastery.' - -'Do we not all? Do not you, yourself, madonna, glory in the power your -beauty gives you?' - -She looked at Filippo. Her heavy eyelids drooped. 'Behold him turned -courtier, my lord. He perceives beauty in me.' - -'He would be blind else,' said the fat youth, greatly daring. And the -next moment in a reaction of shyness a mottled flush was staining his -unhealthy pallor. - -Lower drooped the lady's eyelids, until a line of black lashes lay upon -her cheek. - -'The game,' Gian Giacomo interposed, 'is a very proper one for princes. -Messer Bellarion told me so.' - -'He means, child,' Filippo answered him, 'that it teaches them a bitter -moral: that whilst a State depends upon the Prince--the Prince himself -is entirely dependent upon others, being capable in his own person of -little more than his meanest pawn.' - -'To teach that lesson to a despot,' said Bellarion, 'was the game -invented by an Eastern philosopher.' - -'And the most potent piece upon the board, as in the State, is the -queen, symbolising woman.' Thus Filippo Maria, his eyes full upon the -Countess again. - -Bellarion laughed. 'Aye! He knew his world, that ancient Oriental!' - -But he did not laugh as the days passed, and he observed the growing -lechery in the beady eyes with which the Count of Pavia watched the Lady -Beatrice's every movement, and the Lady Beatrice's provocative -complacency under that vigilance. - -One day, at last, coming upon the Countess alone in that library, -Bellarion unmasked the batteries he had been preparing. - -He hobbled across to the arched window by which she was seated, and -leaning against its monial, looked out upon the desolate park. The snows -had gone, washed away by rains, and since these had come a frost under -which the ground lay now as grey and hard as iron. - -'They will be feeling the rigours of the winter in the camp under -Bergamo,' he said, moving, as ever, obliquely to the attack. - -'They will so. Facino should have gone into winter quarters.' - -'That would mean recommencing in the spring a job that is half done -already.' - -'Yet with his gout and the infirmities of age, it might prove wiser in -the end.' - -'Each age has its own penalties, madonna. It is not only the elderly -among humanity who need compassion.' - -'Wisdom oozes from you like sweat from another.' There was a tartness in -her accents. 'If I were your biographer, Bellarion, I should write of -you as the soldier-sage, or the philosopher-at-arms.' - -Propped on his crutch and his one sound leg, Bellarion considered her, -his head on one side, and fetched a sigh. - -'You are very beautiful, madonna.' - -She was startled. 'God save us!' she cried. 'Does the soldier-sage -contain a mere man, after all?' - -'Your mouth, madonna, is too sweetly formed for acids.' - -'The choicest fruits, sir, have an alloy of sharpness. What else about -me finds favour in your eyes?' - -'In my eyes! My eyes, madonna, are circumspect. They do not prowl -hungrily over another's pastures.' - -She looked at him between anger and apprehension, and slowly a wave of -scarlet came to stain her face and bosom, to tell him that she -understood. He lowered himself carefully to a chair, thrusting out his -damaged leg, to the knee-joint of which articulation was only just -beginning to return. - -'I was saying, madonna, that they will be feeling the rigours of the -winter in the camp under Bergamo. There was a hard frost last night, and -after the frost there will be rains under which the hills thereabouts -will melt in mud.' He sighed again. 'You would regret, madonna, to -exchange for that the ease and comfort of Pavia.' - -'You have the fever again. I am not thinking of making that exchange.' - -'No. I am thinking of it for you.' - -'You! Saint Mary! And do you dispose of me?' - -'It will be cold up there, madonna. But you need cooling. Coolness -restores judgment. It will bring you back to a sense of duty to your -lord.' - -She came to her feet beside him, quivering with anger. Almost he thought -her intention was to strike him. - -'Have you come here to spy upon me?' - -'Of course. Now you know why I broke my leg.' - -She looked unutterable scorn. 'The Princess Valeria is right in her -opinion of you, in her disdain of you.' - -His eyes grew sad. 'If you were generous, madonna--nay, if you were -merely honest--you would not embrace her opinions; you would correct -them; for you have the knowledge that would suffice to do so. But you -are not honest. If you were, there would be no need for me to speak now -in defence of the honour of your absent lord.' - -'Is it for you to say I am not honest?' There was now more of sorrow -than indignation in her voice, and tears were gathering in her eyes, to -deepen their sapphire hue. 'God knows I have been honest with you, -Bellarion. It is this very honesty you abuse in your present misjudgment -of me. Oh! Me miserable!' It was the cry of a wounded soul. She sank -down again into her chair. Self-pity welled in her to drown all else. 'I -am to be starved of everything. If ever woman was pitiable, I am that -woman; and you, Bellarion, you of all living men that know my heart, can -find for me only cruelty and reproach!' - -It moved him not at all. The plea was too inconsequent and illogical, -and the display of a lack of reason repelled him like a physical defect. - -'Your plaint, madonna, is that Facino will not make you a duchess. He -may do so yet if you are patient.' - -Her tears had suddenly ceased. - -'You know something!' she exclaimed in a hushed voice. - -The rogue fooled her with that illusion, whilst refraining from using -words which might afterwards be turned against him. - -'I know that you will lose the chance if meanwhile you should cease to -be Facino's wife. If you were so mad as to become the leman of another, -you know as well as I do that the Lord Facino would put you from him. -What should you be then? That is why I am your friend when I think of -the camp at Bergamo for you.' - -Slowly she dried her eyes. Carefully she removed all stains of tears. It -consumed a little time. Then she rose and went to him, and took his -hand. - -'Thank you, Bellarion, my friend.' Her voice was hushed and tender. 'You -need have no fear for me.' She paused a moment. 'What ... what has my -lord said to you of his intent?' - -'Nay, nay,' he laughed, 'I betray no confidences.' The trickster's tone -was a confidence in itself. He swept on. 'You bid me have no fear for -you. But that is not enough. Princes are reckless folk. I'd not have you -remain in jeopardy.' - -'Oh! But Bergamo!' she cried out. 'To be encamped in winter!' - -'You need not go so far, nor under canvas. In your place, madonna, I -should retire to Melegnano. The castle is at your disposal. It is -pleasanter than Pavia.' - -'Pleasanter! In that loneliness?' - -'It is the company here that makes it prudent. And you may take the -Princess Valeria and her brother with you. Come, come, madonna. Will you -trifle with fate at such a time? Will you jeopardise a glorious destiny -for the sake of an obese young lordling?' - -She considered, her face fretful. 'Tell me,' she begged again, 'what my -lord has divulged to you of his intentions?' - -'Have I not said enough already?' - -The entrance of Filippo Maria at that moment saved him the need of -further invention. It perturbed him not at all that the Prince's round -white face should darken at the sight of them so close and fond. She was -warned. Her greed of power and honour would curb her wantonness and -ensure her withdrawal to Melegnano as he urged. Bellarion glowed with -the satisfaction of a battle won, nor troubled about the deceit he had -practised. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -JUSTICE - - -The Epiphany mummeries were long overpast, the iron hand of winter was -withdrawn from the land, and in the great forest of Pavia, where Gian -Galeazzo had loved to hunt, the trees were breaking into bud before -Bellarion's condition permitted him to think of quitting the ease of -Filippo Maria's castle. His leg had mended well, the knee-joint had -recovered its suppleness, and only a slight limp remained. - -He spoke of returning to Bergamo. 'This lotus-eating has endured too -long already,' he told the Prince in answer to the latter's -remonstrances; for Filippo Maria was reluctant to part with one who in -many ways had beguiled for him the tedium of his lonely life, rendered -lonelier than ever before by the withdrawal of the Countess of -Biandrate, who had gone with the Montferrine Princess to Melegnano. - -But it was not written that Filippo Maria should be left alone; for on -the very eve of Bellarion's intended departure, Facino himself was borne -into the Castle of Pavia, crippled by an attack of gout of a severity -which had compelled him to leave his camp just as he was preparing to -reap the fruits of his long and patient siege. - -He had lost weight, and his face out of which the healthy tan had -departed was grey and drawn. His hair from fulvid that it had been was -almost white. But the spirit within remained unchanged, indomitable, and -intolerant of this enforced inertia of the flesh. - -He was put to bed immediately on his arrival, for he was in great pain -and swore that the gout, which he called by all manner of evil names, -had got into his stomach. - -'Mombelli warned me there was danger of it.' - -'Where is Mombelli?' Bellarion asked. He stood with Filippo Maria by the -canopied bed in a spacious chamber in the northern tower, adjacent to -the Hall of Mirrors. - -'Mombelli, devil take his soul, left me a month ago, when I seemed well, -to go to Duke Gian Maria who desired to appoint him his physician. I've -sent for him again to the Duke. Meanwhile some Pavese doctor will be -required to give me ease.' He groaned with pain. Then, recovering, -rapped out his orders to Bellarion. 'It's a mercy you are recovered, for -you are needed at Bergamo. Meanwhile Carmagnola commands there, but he -has my orders to surrender his authority to you on your arrival.' - -It was an order which Carmagnola did not relish, as he plainly showed -when Bellarion reached the camp two days later. But he dared not disobey -it. - -Bellarion examined the dispositions, but changed nothing. He carried -forward the plans already made by Facino. The siege could be tightened -no further, and, considering the straits to which Malatesta must be -reduced, there could be little point in wasting lives on an assault. - -A week after Bellarion's coming there rode into the great camp of green -tents under the walls of Bergamo, a weary, excited fellow all splashed -with mud from the fury of his riding. - -Brought, by the guards who had checked his progress, to Facino's large -and handsomely equipped pavilion, pitched beside the racing waters of -the Serio, this slight, swarthy, fierce-eyed man proved to be that -stormy petrel, Giovanni Pusterla of Venegono. - -Bellarion rose from the couch, covered by a black bear-skin on which he -had been reclining, and closed the beautifully illuminated copy of -Juvenal's 'Satires,' which had been a parting gift from Filippo Maria. -His gesture dismissed the Swiss halberdiers, who had ushered in this -visitor. The very name of Venegono was of ill omen, and ill-omened was -the man's haggard countenance now, and his own announcement. - -'I bring evil tidings, Lord Count.' - -'You are consistent,' said Bellarion. 'A great quality.' - -Venegono stared at him. 'Give me to drink,' he begged. 'God! How I -thirst. I have ridden from Pavia without pause save to change horse at -Caravaggio.' - -'From Pavia!' Bellarion's tone and manner changed; apprehension showed -in both. But not on that account was he neglectful of the needs of his -guest. On an ample square table in mid-tent stood a jug of wine and some -beautiful drinking-cups, their bowls of beaten gold, their stems of -choicely wrought silver, beside a dish of sweetmeats, bread, and a small -loaf of cheese. Bellarion poured a cup of strong red Valtelline. -Venegono drained it. - -'Aye, I am consistent, as you say. And so is that hellspawn Gian Maria -Visconti. Of his consistency, mine. By your leave.' - -He flung himself wearily into the cushioned fald-stool by the table, and -set down his cup. Bellarion nodded, and resumed his seat on the -bear-skin. - -'What has happened in Pavia?' - -'In Pavia nothing. Nothing yet. I rode there to warn Facino of what is -happening in Milan, but Facino ... The man is ill. He could do nothing -if he would, so I come on to you.' And now, leaning forward, and -scarcely pausing to draw breath, he launched the news he had ridden so -desperately to bring. 'Della Torre is back in Milan, recalled by Gian -Maria.' - -Bellarion waited, but nothing further came. - -'Well, man?' he asked. 'Is that all?' - -'All? Does it mean so little to you that you ask that? Don't you know -that this damned Guelph, whom Facino banished when he should have hanged -him, has been throughout the inspirer of all the evil that has been -wrought against Facino and against all the Ghibellines of Milan? Don't -you understand that his return bodes ill?' - -'What can he do? What can Gian Maria do? Their wings are clipped.' - -'They are growing fresh ones.' Venegono came to his feet again, his -weariness forgotten in his excitement. 'Since della Torre's secret -return a month ago, orators have been sent to Theodore of Montferrat, to -the battered Vignati, to the Esti, and even to Estorre Visconti, to -invite them into a league.' - -Bellarion laughed. 'Let them league. If they are so mad as to do so, -Facino will smash their league into shards when this Bergamo business is -over. You forget that under his hand is the strongest army in Italy -to-day. We muster over twelve thousand men.' - -'My God! I seem to be listening to Facino himself.' Venegono slobbered -in his excitement, his eyes wild. 'It was thus he answered me.' - -'Why, then, have troubled to come to me?' - -'In the hope that you would see what he will not. You talk as if the -army were all. You forget that Gian Maria is a thing of venom, like the -emblem of his accursed house. Where there is venom and the will to use -it, beware the occasion. If anything should happen to Facino, what hope -will remain for the Ghibellines of Milan?' - -'What should happen to Facino? At what are you hinting, man?' - -Venegono looked at him between rage and compassion. 'Where is Mombelli?' -he asked. 'Why is he not with Facino now that Facino needs him? Do you -know?' - -'But is he not with Facino? Has he not yet arrived?' - -'Arrived? Why was he ever withdrawn? To be made physician to the Duke. A -pretext, my friend, to deprive Facino of his healing services. Do you -know that since his coming to Milan he has not been seen? There are -rumours that he is dead, that the Duke has murdered him.' - -Bellarion considered. Then he shrugged. 'Your imagination fools you, -Venegono. If Gian Maria proposed to strike Facino, he would surely -attempt something more active and effective.' - -'It may be little, I confess. But it is a straw that points the way of -the wind.' - -'A straw, indeed,' Bellarion agreed. 'But in any case, what do you -require of me? You have not told me that.' - -'That you take a strong detachment of your men and repair at once to -Milan to curb the Duke's evil intentions and to deal with della Torre.' - -'For that my lord's orders would be necessary. My duty is here, -Venegono, and I dare not neglect it. Nor is the matter so urgent. It can -wait until Bergamo has been reduced, which will not be long.' - -'Too long, it may be.' - -But not all the passionate pleading with which he now distressed -Bellarion could turn the latter from his clear duty, or communicate to -him any of the vague alarms which agitated Venegono. And so, at last, he -went his ways in despair, protesting that both Bellarion and Facino were -beset with the blindness of those whom the gods wish to destroy. - -Bellarion, however, saw in Venegono's warning no more than an attempt to -use him for the execution of a private vengeance. Three days later he -thought he had confirmation of this. It came in a letter bearing -Facino's signature, but penned in the crabbed and pointed hand of the -Countess, who had been summoned from Melegnano to minister to her lord. -It informed Bellarion that the physician Mombelli had come at last in -response to Facino's request, and that Facino hoped soon to be afoot -again. Indeed, there was already a perceptible improvement in his -condition. - -'So much for Venegono's rumours that Mombelli has been murdered,' said -Bellarion to himself, and laughed at the scaremongering of that -credulous hot-head. - -But he thought differently when after another three days a second letter -reached him signed by the Countess herself. - -'My lord begs you to come to him at once,' she wrote. 'He is so ill that -Messer Mombelli despairs of him. Do not lose a moment, or you may be too -late.' - -He was more deeply stirred by that summons than by anything he could -remember. If those who accounted him hard and remorselessly calculating -could have seen him in that moment, the tears filming his eyes at the -very thought of losing this man whom he loved, they must have formed a -gentler opinion of his nature. - -He sent at once for Carmagnola, and ordered a strong horse to be saddled -and twenty lances to prepare to ride with him. Ride with him, however, -they did not. They followed. For he rode like one possessed of devils. -In three hours he covered the forty miles of difficult road that lay -between Bergamo and Pavia, leaving one horse foundered and arriving on a -second one that was spent by the time he reached Filippo Maria's -stronghold. Down he flung from it in the great courtyard, and, -staggering and bespattered, he mounted the main staircase so wide and of -such shallow steps that it was possible to ascend it on horseback. - -Without pausing to see the Prince, he had himself conducted straight to -Facino's chamber, and there under the damask-hung canopy he found his -adoptive father supine, inert, his countenance leaden-hued, looking as -if he were laid out in death, save for his stertorous breathing and the -fire that still glowed in the eyes under their tufted, fulvid brows. - -Bellarion went down on his knees beside the bed, and took, in both his -own that were so warm and strong, the cold, heavy hand that lay upon the -coverlet. - -The grey head rolled a little on its pillow; the ghost of a smile -irradiated the strong, rugged face; the fingers of the cold hand faintly -pressed Bellarion's. - -'Good lad, you have lost no time,' he said, in a weak, rasping voice. -'And there is no time to lose. I am sped. Indeed, my body's dead -already. Mombelli says the gout is mounting to my heart.' - -Bellarion looked up. Beyond the bed stood the Countess, fretful and -troubled. At the foot was Mombelli, and in the background a servant. - -'Is this so?' he asked the physician. 'Can your skill avail nothing -here?' - -'He is in God's hands,' said Mombelli, mumbling indistinctly. - -'Send them away,' said Facino, and his eyes indicated Mombelli and the -servant. 'There is little time, and I have things to tell you. We must -take order for what's to follow.' - -The orders did not amount to very much. He required of Bellarion that he -should afford the Countess his protection, and he recommended to him -also Filippo Maria. - -'When Gian Galeazzo died, he left his sons in my care. I go to meet him -with clean hands. I have discharged my trust, and dying I hand it on to -you. Remember always that Gian Maria is Duke of Milan, and whatever the -shortcomings he may show, for your own sake if not for his, practise -loyalty to him, as you would have your own captains be loyal to you.' - -When at last, wearied, and announcing his desire to rest, Facino bade -him go, Bellarion found Mombelli pacing in the Hall of Mirrors, and sent -him to Facino. - -'I shall remain here within call,' he said, and oblivious of his own -fatigue he paced in his turn that curious floor whereon birds and beasts -were figured in mosaics under the gaudy flashing ceiling of coloured -glass, whence the place derived its name. - -There Mombelli found him a half-hour later, when he emerged. - -'He sleeps now,' he said. 'The Countess is with him.' - -'It is not yet the end?' Bellarion asked. - -'Not yet. The end is when God wills. He may linger for some days.' - -Bellarion looked sharply at the doctor, considered him, indeed, now for -the first time since his arrival. This Mombelli was a man of little more -than thirty-five. He had been vigorous of frame, inclining a little to -portliness, rubicund if grave of countenance with strong white teeth and -bright dark eyes. Bellarion beheld now an emaciated man upon whose -shrunken frame a black velvet gown hung in loose folds. His face was -pale, his eyes dull; but oddest of all the very shape of his face had -changed; his jaw had fallen in, so that nose and chin were brought -closer like those of an old man, and when he spoke he hissed and mumbled -indistinctly over toothless gums. - -'By the Host, man! What has happened to you?' - -Mombelli shrank visibly from the questions and from the stern eyes that -seemed to search his very soul. - -'I ... I ... have been ill,' he faltered. 'Very ill. It is a miracle I -am alive to-day.' - -'But your teeth, man?' - -'I have lost them as you see. A consequence of my disease.' - -A horrible suspicion was sprouting in Bellarion's mind, nourished by the -memory of the rumour of this man's death which Venegono had reported. He -took the doctor by the sleeve of his velvet gown, and drew him towards -one of the double windows. His shrinking, his obvious reluctance to -undergo this closer inspection, were so much added food to Bellarion's -suspicion. - -'How do you call this disease?' he asked. - -Clearly, from his hesitancy, Mombelli had been unprepared for the -question. 'It ... it is a sort of podagric affection,' he mumbled. - -'And your thumb? Why is that bandaged?' - -Terror leapt to Mombelli's eyes. His toothless jaws worked fearfully. -'That? That is naught. An injury.' - -'Take off the bandage. Take it off, man. I desire to see this injury. Do -you hear me?' - -At last Mombelli with shaking fingers stripped the bandage from his left -thumb, and displayed it naked. - -Bellarion went white, and his eyes were dreadful. 'You have been -tortured, master doctor. Gian Maria has subjected you to his Lent.' - -This Lent of Gian Maria's invention was a torment lasting forty days, on -each of which one or more teeth were torn from the patient's jaws, then -day by day a finger nail, whereafter followed the eyes and finally the -tongue, whereupon the sufferer being rendered dumb and unable to confess -what was desired, he was shown at last the mercy of being put to death. - -Mombelli's livid lips moved frantically, but no words came. He reeled -where he stood until he found the wall to steady him, and Bellarion -watched him with those dreadful, searching eyes. - -'To what end did he torture you? What did he desire of you?' - -'I have not said he tortured me. It is not true.' - -'You have not said it. No. But your condition says it. You have not said -it, because you dare not. Why did he do this? And why did he desist?' -Bellarion gripped him by the shoulders. 'Answer me.' To what did the -torments undergone suffice to constrain you? Will you answer me?' - -'O God!' groaned the physician, sagging limply against the wall, and -looking as if he would faint. - -But there was no pity in Bellarion's face. Come with me,' he said, and -it was almost by main force that he dragged the wretched doctor across -that hall out to the gallery, and down the wide steps to the great -court. Here under the arcade some men-at-arms of Facino's bodyguard were -idling. Into their hands Bellarion delivered Mombelli. - -'To the question chamber,' he said shortly. - -Mombelli, shattered in nerve and sapped of manhood by his sufferings, -cried out, piteously inarticulate. Pitilessly Bellarion waved him away, -and the soldiers bore him off, screaming, to the stone chamber under the -north-eastern tower. There, in the middle of the uneven stone floor, -stood the dread framework of the rack. - -Bellarion, who had followed, ordered them to strip him. The men were -reluctant to do the office of executioners, but under the eyes of -Bellarion, standing as implacable as the god of wrath, they set about -it, nevertheless, and all the while the broken man's cries for mercy -filled that vaulted place with an ever-mounting horror. At the last, -half-naked, he broke from the men's hands and flung himself at -Bellarion's feet. - -'In the name of the sweet Christ, my lord, take pity on me! I can bear -no more. Hang me if you will, but do not let me be tortured again.' - -Bellarion looked down on the grovelling, slobbering wretch with an -infinite compassion in his soul. But there was no sign of it on his -countenance or in his voice. - -'You have but to answer my question, sir, and you shall have your wish. -You shall be hanged without further suffering. Why did the Duke torture -you, and why did the torture cease when it did? To what importunities -did you yield?' - -'Already you have guessed it, my lord. That is why you use me so! But it -is not just. As God's my witness, it is not just. What am I but a poor -man caught in the toils of the evil desires of others? As long as God -gave me the strength to resist, I resisted. But I could bear no more. -There was no price at which I would not have purchased respite from that -horror. Death I could have borne had that been all they threatened. But -I had reached the end of my endurance of pain. Oh, my lord, if I were a -villain there would have been no torture to endure. They offered me -bribes, bribes great enough to dazzle a poor man, that would have left -me rich for the remainder of my days. When I refused, they threatened me -with death unless I did their infamous will. Those threats I defied. -Then they subjected me to this protracted agony which the Duke impiously -calls his Lent. They drew my teeth, brutally with unutterable violence, -two each day until all were gone. Broken and most starved as I was, -distracted by pain, which for a fortnight had been unceasing, they began -upon my finger-nails. But when they tore the nail from my left thumb, I -could bear no more. I yielded to their infamy.' - -Bellarion made a sign to the men, and they pulled Mombelli to his feet. -But his eyes dared not meet the terrible glance of Bellarion. - -'You yielded to their demands that, under the pretence of curing him, -you should poison my Lord Facino. That is the thing to which you -yielded. But when you say "they" whom do you mean?' - -'The Duke Gian Maria and Antonio della Torre.' - -Bellarion remembered Venegono's warning--'He is a thing of venom, like -the emblem of his house.' - -'Poor wretch!' said Bellarion. 'You deserve some mercy, and you shall -have it, provided you can undo what you have done.' - -'Alas, my lord!' Mombelli groaned, wringing his hands in a passion of -despair. 'Alas! There is no antidote to that poison. It works slowly -gradually corroding the intestines. Hang me, my lord, and have done. Had -I been less of a coward, I would have hanged myself before I did this -thing. But the Duke threatened that if I failed him the torture should -be resumed and continued until I died of sheer exhaustion. Also he swore -that my refusal would not save my Lord Facino, whom he would find other -means of despatching.' - -Bellarion stood between loathing and compassion. But there was no -thought in his mind of hanging this poor wretch, who had been the victim -of that malignant Duke. - -He uttered an order in cold, level tones: 'Restore him his garments and -place him in confinement until I send for him again.' - -On that he departed from that underground chamber, and slowly, -thoughtfully made his way above. - -By the time he reached the courtyard his resolve was taken, though his -neck should pay for it: Gian Maria should not escape. For the first and -only time in those adventurous years of his did he swerve from the -purpose by which he laid his course, and turn his hand to a task that -was not more or less directly concerned with its ultimate fulfilment. - -And so, without pausing for rest or food, you behold him once more in -the saddle, riding hard for Milan on that Monday afternoon. - -He conceived that he bore thither the first news of Facino's moribund -condition. - -But rumour had been ahead of him by a day and a half, and the rumour -ran, not that Facino was dying, but that he was already dead. - -In all the instances history affords of poetic justice to give pause to -those who offend against God and Man, none is more arresting than that -of the fate of Gian Maria Visconti. Already on the previous Friday word -had reached the Duke, not only from Mombelli, but from at least one of -the spies he had placed in his brother's household, that the work of -poisoning was done and that Facino's hours were numbered. Gloating with -della Torre and Lonate over the assurance that at last the ducal neck -was delivered from that stern heel under which so long it had writhed -like the serpent of evil under the heel of Saint Michael, Gian Maria had -been unable to keep the knowledge to himself. About the court on that -same Friday night he spoke unguardedly of Facino as dead or dying, and -from the court the news filtered through to the city and was known to -all by the morning of Saturday. And that news carried with it a dismay -more utter and overwhelming than any that had yet descended upon Milan -since Gian Maria had worn the ducal crown. Facino, when wielding the -authority of ducal governor, had been the people's bulwark against the -extortions, brutalities, and criminal follies of their Duke. When absent -and deposed from power, he had still been their hope, and they had -possessed their soul as best they could against the day of his return, -which they knew must dawn. But Facino dead meant an unbridling of the -Duke's bestiality, a free charter to his misrule, and for his people an -outlook of utter hopelessness. It may be that they exaggerated in their -own minds this calamity. It was for them the end of the world. Despair -settled that morning upon the city. The Duke would have laughed if it -had been reported to him, because he lacked the wit to perceive that -when men are truly desperate catastrophes ensue. - -And at once, whilst the great mass of the people were stricken by horror -into a dull inertia, there were those who saw that the situation called -for action. Of these were members of the leading Ghibelline families of -Bagio, of del Maino, Trivulzi, Aliprandi, and others. There was that -Bertino Mantegazza, captain of the ducal guard whose face the Duke had -one day broken with his iron gauntlet, and fiercest and most zealous of -all there was that Giovanni Pusterla of Venegono, whose family had -suffered such deep and bitter wrongs at the Duke's hands. - -There was no suspicion in the mind of any that the Duke himself was -responsible for the death of Facino. It was simply that Facino's death -created a situation only to be met by the destruction of the Duke. And -this situation the Duke himself had been at such hideous pains to bring -about. - -And so, briefly to recapitulate here a page of Visconti history, it came -to pass that on the Monday morning, which was the first day of the -Litany of May, as Gian Maria, gaily clad in his colours of red and -white, was issuing from his bedroom to repair to Mass in the Church of -San Gotthard, he found in the antechamber a score of gentlemen not -latterly seen about his court. Mantegazza, who had command of the -entrance, was responsible for their presence. - -Before the Duke could comment upon this unusual attendance, perhaps -before he had well observed it, three of them were upon him. - -'This from the Pusterla!' cried Venegono, and with his dagger clove the -Duke's brow, slaying him instantly. Yet before he fell Andrea Bagio's -blade was buried in his right thigh, so that presently that -white-stockinged leg was as red as its fellow. - -As a consequence, Bellarion reaching Milan at dusk that evening found -entrance denied him at the Ticinese Gate, which was held by Paolo del -Bagio with a strong following of men-at-arms. Not until he had disclosed -himself for Facino's lieutenant was he admitted and informed of what had -taken place. - -The irony of the event provoked in him a terrible mirth. - -'Poor purblind fool,' was his comment. 'He never guessed when he was -torturing Mombelli that he was torturing him into signing his own -death-warrant.' That, and the laugh with which he rode on into the city, -left Bagio wondering whether his wits had turned. - -He rode through streets in uproar, where almost every man he met was -armed. Before the broken door of a half-shattered house hung some -revolting bleeding rags, what once had been a man. These were all that -remained of Squarcia Giramo, the infamous kennel-master who had been -torn into pieces that day by the mob, and finally hung there before his -dwelling which on the morrow was to be razed to the ground. - -He came to the Old Broletto and the Church of Saint Gotthard, and paused -there to survey the Duke's body where it lay under an apronful of roses -which had been cast upon it by a harlot. Thence he repaired to the -stables of the palace, and by making himself known procured a fresh -horse. On this he made his way through the ever-increasing tumult of the -streets, back to the Ticinese Gate, and he was away through the darkness -to cover for the second time that day the twenty miles that lie between -Milan and Pavia. - -It was past midnight when, so jaded that he kept his feet by a sheer -effort of the will, he staggered into Filippo Maria's bedchamber, -ushered by the servant who had preceded him to rouse the Prince. - -Filippo Maria sat up in bed, blinking in the candlelight, at that tall, -swaying figure that was almost entirely clothed in mud. - -'Is that you, Lord Bellarion? You will have heard that Facino is -dead--God rest his soul!' - -A harsh, croaking voice made him answer! 'Aye, and avenged, Lord Duke.' - -A quiver crossed the pale fat face under its sleek black cap of hair. -The coarse lips parted. 'Lord ... Lord Duke ... you said?' The -high-pitched voice was awe-stricken. - -'Your brother Gian Maria is dead, my lord, and you are Duke of Milan.' - -'Duke of Milan? I am ...?' The grotesque young face showed bewilderment, -confusion, fear. 'And Gian Maria ... Dead, do you say?' - -Bellarion did not mince matters. 'He was despatched to hell this morning -by some gentlemen in Milan.' - -'Jesus-Mary!' croaked the Prince, and fell to trembling. 'Murdered ... -And you ...?' He heaved himself higher in the bed with one arm, whilst -he flung out the other in accusation. He did not love his brother. He -profited greatly by his death. But a Visconti does not permit that -others shall lay hands on a Visconti. - -Bellarion laughed oddly. He had been forestalled. Perhaps it was as -well. No need now to speak of his intentions. - -'He was slain on his way to Mass this morning, at just about the hour -that I arrived here from Bergamo.' - -The accusing arm fell heavily to the Prince's obese flank. The beady, -lack-lustre eyes still peered at the young condottiero. - -'Almost I thought ... And Giannino is dead ... murdered! God rest him!' -The phrase was mechanical. 'Tell me about it.' - -Bellarion recited what he knew, then staggered out, on the arm of the -servant who was to conduct him to the room prepared for him. - -'What a world! What a dunghill!' he muttered as he went. 'And how well -the old abbot knows it. _Pax multa in cella, foris autem plurima -bella_!' - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -THE INHERITANCE - - -Facino Cane, Count of Biandrate, Lord of Novara, Dertona, Varese, -Rosate, Valsassina, and of all the lands on Lake Maggiore as far as -Vogogna, was buried with great pomp in the Church of San Pietro in Ciel -d'Oro. - -His chief mourners were his captains summoned from Bergamo to do that -last honour to their departed leader. At their head, as mourner in -chief, walked Facino's adoptive son Bellarion Cane, Count of Gavi. The -others included Francesco Busone of Carmagnola, Giorgio Valperga, -Nicolino Marsalia, Werner von Stoffel, and Vaugeois the Burgundian. - -Koenigshofen and the Piedmontese Giasone Trotta were absent, having -remained at Bergamo with the army. - -Thereafter the captains assembled in the Hall of Mirrors to hear the -will and last instructions of Facino. To read them came Facino's -secretary, accompanied by the Pavese notary who had drawn up the -testament three days ago. Thither also came the Countess robed entirely -in black and heavily veiled. - -The rich and important fief of Valsassina was now disclosed to have been -left by Facino to his adoptive son Bellarion, 'in earnest of my love and -to recompense his loyalty and worth.' Apart from that and a legacy in -money for Carmagnola, the whole of his vast territorial possessions of -cities, lands, and fortresses--mostly acquired since he had been deposed -in favour of Malatesta--besides the enormous sum of four hundred -thousand ducats, were all bequeathed to his widow. He expressed the wish -that Bellarion should succeed him in the command of his condotta, and -reminding his other captains that strength lies in unity he recommended -them to remain united under Bellarion's leadership, at least until the -task of restoring order to the duchy should be fulfilled. To his -captains also he recommended his widow, putting it upon them to see her -firmly established in the dominions he bequeathed to her. - -When the reading was done, the captains rose in their places and turned -to Madonna Beatrice where she sat like an ebony statue at the table's -head. Carmagnola, ever theatrical, ever a man of attitudes, drew his -sword with a flourish and laid it on the board. - -'Madonna, to you I surrender the authority I held under my Lord Facino, -and I leave it in your hands until such time as it shall please you to -reinvest me in it.' - -The ceremonious gesture caught the fancy of the others. Valperga -followed the example instantly, and presently five swords lay naked on -the oak. To these, Bellarion, after a moment, a little scornful of this -ritual, as he was of all unnecessary displays, added his own. - -The Countess rose. She thanked them in a voice that shook with emotion, -and one by one restored their weapons to them, naming each as she did -so. Bellarion's, however, she left upon the board, wherefore Bellarion, -wondering a little, remained when she dismissed the others. - -Slowly then she resumed her seat. Slowly she raised and threw back her -veil, disclosing a face, which beyond a deeper pallor resulting, -perhaps, from contrast with her sable raiment, showed little trace of -grief. Her feline eyes considered him, a little frown between their fine -black brows. - -'You were the last to offer me that homage, Bellarion.' Her voice was -slow and softly attuned. 'Why did you hesitate? Are you reluctant?' - -'It was a gesture, madonna, that becomes the Carmagnolas of this world. -Sincerity requires no symbols, and it was only at the symbol that I -boggled. My service and my life are unreservedly at your command.' - -There was a pause. Her eyes continued to ponder him. 'Take up your -sword,' she said at last. - -He moved to do so, and then checked. 'Yourself you restored theirs to -the others.' - -'The others are not as you. Upon you has fallen the mantle of Facino. -How much of that mantle will you wear, Bellarion?' - -'As much of it as my lord intended. You have heard his testament, -madonna.' - -'But not your own interpretation of it.' - -'Have I not said that my life and services are at your command, as my -lord, to whom I owe everything, enjoined upon me?' - -'Your life and services,' she said slowly. Her breast heaved as if in -repressed agitation. 'That is much to offer, Bellarion. Do you ask -nothing in return?' - -'I offer these in return for all that I have received already. It is I -who make payment, madonna.' - -Again there was a baffled pause. She sighed heavily. 'You make it hard -for me, Bellarion.' There was a pathetic break in her voice. - -'What do I make hard?' - -She rose, and in evident timidity came to stand before him. She set a -white hand on the black velvet sleeve of his tunic. Her lovely face, -with which time had dealt so mercifully, was upturned to his, and there -was now no arrogance in its lines or in her glance. She spoke quietly, -wistfully. - -'You may think, Bellarion, that with my lord scarce buried this is not -the hour for ... what I have to say. And yet, by the very fact of my -lord's death and by the very terms of his testament, this is the hour, -because it must be the hour of decision. Here and now we must determine -what is to follow.' - -Tall and coldly stern he stood, looking down upon her who swayed a -little there, so close to him that his nostrils were invaded by the -subtle essences she used. - -'I await your commands, madonna.' - -'My commands? My commands? Dear God! What commands have I for you?' She -looked away for an instant, then brought her eyes back to his face and -her other hand to his other sleeve, so that she held him completely -captive now. A faint colour stirred in the pale cheeks. 'My lord has -left me great possessions. They might serve as a footstool to help you -mount to a great destiny.' - -A little smile hovered about his lips as he looked down upon her who -waited so breathlessly, her breast now touching his own. - -'You are offering me ...' he said, and stopped. - -'Can you be in doubt of what I am offering? It is the hour of great -decisions, Bellarion, for me and for you.' Closer she pressed, so that -her weight was against him. She was deathly pale again, her eyes were -veiled. 'In unity is strength. That was Facino's last reminder to us. -And in what unity could there be greater strength than in ours? Facino's -army, the strongest that ever followed him, is solidly behind us so that -we stand together. With that and my resources you need set no bounds to -your ambition. You may be Duke of Milan if you will. You may even -realise Galeazzo's dream and make yourself King of Italy.' - -His hovering smile settled and deepened. But the dark eyes grew sad. - -'The world and you have never suspected,' he said gently, 'that I am not -really ambitious. You have witnessed my rise in four short years from a -poor nameless, starveling scholar to knighthood, lordships, wealth, and -fame; and, therefore, you imagine that I am one who has striven for the -bounties of Fortune. It is not so, madonna. I have laboured for ends -that are nowise bound up with the hope of any of these rewards, which I -hold cheap. They are hollow vanities, empty bubbles, gewgaws to delight -the children of the world. Possessions come to me, titles, honours, -which deceive me no more than I desired them.' - -She drew away from him a little, and looked at him almost in awe. 'God! -You talk like a monk!' - -'It is possible that I think like one, and very natural remembering how -I was nurtured. There is one task, one purpose which has detained me in -this world of men. When that is accomplished, I think I shall go back to -the cell where there is peace.' - -'You!' Her hands had fallen from his arms. She gasped now in her -amazement. 'With the world at your feet if you choose! To renounce all? -To go back to the chill loneliness and joylessness of monkhood? -Bellarion, you are mad.' - -'Or else sane, madonna. Who shall judge?' - -'And love, Bellarion? Is there no love in the world? Does that not lend -reality to all these things that you deem shams?' - -'Does it heal the vanity of the world?' he cried. 'It is a great power, -as I perceive. For love men will go mad, they will become beasts: they -will murder and betray.' - -'Heretic!' - -That startled him a little. Once before he had been dubbed heretic for -beliefs to which he clung with assurance; and experience had come to lay -bare his heresy to his own eyes. - -'Upon occasion, madonna, we have talked of love, you and I. Had I given -heed, had your beauty beglamoured me, what a treacherous thing should I -not have been in Facino's eyes! Do you wonder that I mistrust love as I -mistrust all else the world can offer me?' - -'While Facino lived, that ...' She broke off. Her eyes were on the -ground, her hands now folded in her lap. She had drawn away from him a -little and leaned against the table's edge. 'Now ...' She parted her -hands and held them out, leaving him to guess her mind. - -'Now his behests are upon me, and they shall be obeyed as if he still -lived.' - -'What is there in his behests against ... against what I was offering? -Am I not commended to you by his testament? Am I not a part of his -legacy to you?' - -'The service of you is; and your loyal servant, madonna, you shall ever -find me.' She turned aside with a little gesture of irritation, and -remained silent, thoughtful. - -A sleek secretary broke in upon them. The Count of Pavia commanded the -Lord Bellarion's presence in the library. A courier had just arrived -from Milan with grave news. - -'Say to his highness that I come.' - -The secretary withdrew. - -'You give me leave, madonna?' - -She stood leaning sideways against the heavy table, her face averted. -'Aye, you may go.' Her voice rasped. - -But he waited yet a moment. 'The sword, madonna? Will you not arm me -with your own hands for your service?' - -She turned her head to look at him again, and there was now a curl of -disdain on her pale lips. - -'I thought you looked askance on symbols. Was not that your profession?' -She paused, but, without waiting for his answer, added: 'Take up your -sword, yourself, you that are so fully master of your own destinies.' - -And on that she turned and went, trailing her funereal draperies over -the gay mosaics of that patterned floor. - -He remained where she left him until she had passed out of that great -hall and the door had closed. Then, at last, he fetched a sigh and went -to restore his blade to its scabbard. - -His thoughts were on Facino hardly cold in the grave, on this widow who -had so shamelessly wooed him, yet in terms which demanded as a condition -the satisfaction of her inordinate ambition; and lastly on that obese -young Prince who waited for him. And in the mirror of his mind he saw a -reflection of a scene now some months old. He saw again the glance of -those beady, lecherous eyes lambent about Facino's Countess. - -Inspiration came to him of how best he might gratify her vast ambition, -her greed of greatness. Her suggestion to him had been that he should -make her Duchess of Milan, and Duchess of Milan he would make her yet. - -On that half-ironic thought he came to the library where the Prince -waited. Filippo Maria was seated at a table near one of the windows. -Spread before him were some parchments, writing-materials, and a horn of -unicorn that was almost a yard long, of solid ivory, one of the -library's most treasured possessions. - -The Prince was more than usually pallid, his glance unsteady, his manner -nervous and agitated. Perfunctorily he made the inquiries concerning the -obsequies of Facino which courtesy demanded. He reiterated excuses -already made for his own absence from the ceremony, an absence really -based on resentment of the yoke which Facino had imposed upon him. That -done, he picked up a parchment from the table. - -'Here's news,' he said, and his voice trembled. 'Estorre Visconti has -been created Duke of Milan.' He paused, and the little dark eyes blinked -up at the tall Bellarion standing composed at his side. 'You knew -already?' - -'Not so, highness.' - -'And you show no surprise?' - -'It is a bold step, and it may cost Messer Estorre his head. But it was -to be expected from what had gone before.' - -The beady eyes returned to the parchment, which shook in the podgy -fingers. - -'Fra Berto Caccia, the Bishop of Piacenza, preached a sermon to the -people lauding the murder of my brother, and promising in Estorre's name -a Golden Age for Milan, with immunity from taxation. Thereupon they laid -at his bastard feet the keys of the city, the standard of the republic, -and the ducal sceptre.' He dropped the parchment, and sat back folding -plump, white hands across his paunch. 'This calls for action, speedily.' - -'We can provide action enough to surfeit Messer Estorre.' - -'Ha!' The great flabby face grew almost kindly, the little eyes beamed -upon the condottiero. 'Serve me well in this, Bellarion, and you shall -know gratitude.' - -Bellarion's gesture seemed to wave the notion of reward aside. He came -straight to facts. 'We can withdraw eight thousand men from Bergamo. The -place is at the point of surrender, and four thousand will well suffice -to tighten the last grip upon the Malatesta vitals. Perhaps the Lord -Estorre has not included that in his calculations. With eight thousand -men we can sweep him out of Milan at our pleasure.' - -'And you'll give orders? You'll give orders at once? The army, they tell -me, is now in your control. Facino's authority has descended to you, and -has been accepted by your brother captains.' - -And now this arch-dissembler went to work. - -'Hardly so much, highness. Facino's captains have sworn fealty, not to -me, but to the Lady Beatrice.' - -'But ... But you, then?' The news dismayed him a little. 'What place is -yours?' - -'At your highness's side, if your highness commands me.' - -'Yes, yes. But whom do you command? Where, exactly, do you stand now?' - -'At the head of the army in any enterprise into which the Countess sends -her captains.' - -'The Countess?' The Prince shifted his bulk uneasily in his chair, -slewing round so as to face the soldier more fully. 'What then if ... -What if the Countess should not ...' He waved his fat hands helplessly. - -'It is not likely that the Countess should oppose your own wishes, -highness.' - -'Not likely? But--Lord of Heaven!--it's possible.' He heaved himself up, -nervous, agitated. 'I must know. I must ... I'll send for her.' He -reached for a hand-bell on the table. - -But Bellarion's hand closed over his own before he could ring. - -'A moment, Lord Prince. Before you send for the Lady Beatrice, had you -not best consider precisely what you will say to her?' - -'What is to say beyond discovering her disposition towards me.' - -'Can you entertain a doubt upon that, Lord Prince?' Bellarion was -smiling. Their hands came away together from the bell, and fell apart. -'Her disposition towards your potency is, to my knowledge, of the very -kindliest. Such, indeed, that--I'll be frank with you--I found it -necessary once to remind her of her duty to her lord.' - -'Ah!' The fat pale face quivered into something akin to malevolence. The -Prince remembered a sudden coolness in the Countess and her removal to -Melegnano, and perceived in this meddler's confession the explanation of -it. 'By Saint Ambrose, that was bold of you!' - -'I am accounted bold,' Bellarion reminded him, deeming it necessary. - -'Aye, aye!' The shifty eyes fell away uncomfortably under his glance. -'But if she is kindly disposed, then ...' - -'I know that she was, highness, and may be rendered so again. Though -perhaps less easily now than heretofore.' - -'Less easily? Why so?' - -'As Facino's widow, she is in wealth and power the equal of many a -prince in Italy. She has considerable dominions ...' - -'Torn by Facino from the great heritage left by the Duke my father.' In -that rare burst of indignation his whole bulk quivered like a great -jelly. - -'They might be restored to the ducal crown by peaceful arts.' - -'Peaceful arts? What arts? Will you be plain?' - -But the time for direct answers was not yet. 'And not only has the -Countess lands, but the control of a vast fortune. Some four hundred -thousand ducats. You will need money, highness, for the pay of this -great army now under Bergamo, and your own treasury will hardly supply -it. There is taxation. But your highness knows the ills that wait on -that for a prince newly come into his own. And not only the lands and -money of which your highness stands in need, but the men also does the -Countess bring.' - -'You but repeat yourself.' - -Bellarion looked at him, and smiled. Never, do I believe, did a Prince -find a bride more richly dowered.' - -'A bride?' The youth was startled, terrified almost. 'A bride?' - -'Would less content your highness? Would you be satisfied to receive the -assistance of the Countess's possessions, when you may make them your -own and wield them at your pleasure?' - -He stared, his jaw fallen. Then slowly he brought his lips together -again, and licked them thoughtfully, screwing up his mean eyes. - -'You are proposing that I should take to wife Facino's widow, who is -twice my age?' He asked the question very slowly, as if pondering each -word of it. - -Bellarion laughed. 'Not proposing it, highness. It is not for me to make -such proposals. I do not even know what the lady will say. But if she is -willing to become Duchess of Milan, she can provide the means to make -you Duke.' - -Filippo Maria sat down suddenly. The sweat broke from his pale brow. He -mopped it with his hand, disturbing the black fringe that disfigured it. -Then, lost in thought, he stroked the loose folds of his enormous chin, -and gradually his eyes kindled. - -At long length he put forth his hand again to the bell. This time -Bellarion did not interfere. He perceived in the act the young Prince's -surrender to the forces of greed and lust which Bellarion himself had -loosed against him. - -He took his leave, and went out with the sad knowledge that greed and -wantonness would make of the woman, too, a ready prey. - -His work was done. She should have the thing she coveted, and find in it -her punishment ... - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -PRINCE OF VALSASSINA - - -As Bellarion had calculated and disposed, so things fell out, and -Filippo Maria Visconti in the twenty-second year of his age led to the -altar the widowed Countess of Biandrate who was thirty-nine. As a young -girl, she had married, at the bidding of ambition, a man who was twenty -years her senior; as a middle-aged woman now, and for the same reason, -she married one who was almost as much her junior. She had not the -foresight to perceive that the grievance on the score of disparity of -years which she had nursed against Facino would be nursed against -herself to her ultimate destruction by this sly, furtive, and cruel -Prince to whom now she gave herself and her vast possessions. That, -however, is no part of the story I have set myself to tell. - -Estorre Visconti defended in vain his usurped dominion against Gian -Maria's legitimate successor. Filippo Maria, with Carmagnola in command -of some seven thousand men, laid siege to Milan, whilst Bellarion went -north to make an end of the Bergamo resistance. Because in haste to have -done, he granted Malatesta easy terms of surrender, permitting him to -ride out of the city with the honours of war, lance on thigh. -Thereafter, having restored order in Bergamo and left there a strong -garrison under an officer of trust, he marched with the main army to -join Filippo Maria who was conducting operations from the mills on Monte -Lupario, three miles from Milan. Some four weeks already had he spent -there, with little progress made. Estorre had enrolled and constrained -to the defence of the city almost every man of an age to bear arms. It -was necessary to make an end, and Bellarion himself with a few followers -entered the Castle of Porta Giovia which was being held against Estorre -by Vimercati, the castellan. From its walls, having attracted the people -by trumpet-blast, he published Filippo Maria's proclamation, wherein the -Prince solemnly undertook that if the city were at once surrendered to -him it should have nothing to fear; that there should be no pillage, -executions, or other measures punitive of this resistance to the State's -legitimate lord. - -The news flew in every direction, with the result that before nightfall -all those whom Estorre had constrained to follow him had fallen away, -and he was left with only his mercenaries. With these, next morning, he -hacked a way out through the Comasina Gate as the people were throwing -open to the new Duke the gates of the city on the other side. - -Filippo Maria entered with a comparatively small following and in the -wake of a train of bread-carts sent ahead to relieve the famine which -already was beginning to press upon the inhabitants. The acclamations of -'Live the Duke!' quieted his natural timidity as he rode through the -streets to shut himself up in the Castle of Porta Giovia, which remained -ever afterwards his residence. Not for Filippo Maria the Palace of the -Old Broletto or the gaiety of courts. His dark, scheming, yet -pusillanimous nature craved the security of a stronghold. - -For assisting him to the ducal throne, and no doubt to ensure their -continued support, he rewarded his captains generously, and none more -generously than Bellarion to whom he considered that he owed everything. -Bellarion was not only confirmed in the lordship of Valsassina in feud, -for himself and his heirs forever, but the Duke raised the fief into a -principality. - -Bellarion remained the Duke's marshal in chief and military adviser, and -it was by the dispositions which he made during that summer and autumn -of 1412 that the lands of the duchy were finally cleared of the -insurgent brigands who had renewed their depredations. - -Peace being restored at home, and industry being liberated at last from -the trammels that had lain upon it since the death of Gian Galeazzo, -prosperity flowed swiftly back to the State of Milan, and the people -heaped blessings upon the shy, furtive ruler of whom they saw so little. - -It is possible that Filippo Maria would have been content to rest for -the present upon what was done, to leave the frontiers of the duchy as -he found them, and to dismiss the greater part of the costly condottas -in his employ. But Bellarion at his elbow goaded him to further -enterprise, and met his sluggish reluctance with a culminating argument -that shamed him into action. - -'Will you leave, in tranquil possession, the brigands who have -encroached upon the glorious patrimony built up by your illustrious -father? Will you dishonour his memory and be false to your name, Lord -Duke?' - -Thus, and similarly, Bellarion, with a heat that was purely histrionic. -He cared no more for the integrity of Gian Galeazzo's patrimony than he -cared for that of the Kingdom of England. What he cared for was that the -order to dispossess those tyrants would sound the knell of Theodore of -Montferrat. Thus, at last, should he be enabled to complete the service, -to which five years ago he had dedicated himself, and to which -unfalteringly, if obscurely and tortuously, he had held. Very patiently -had he waited for this hour, when, yielding at last to his bold -importunities, the Duke summoned a council of the officers of State and -the chief condottieri to determine the order in which action should be -taken. - -At once Bellarion urged that a beginning should be made by recovering -Vercelli, than which few strongholds were of more importance to the -safety of the duchy. - -It provoked a protest from Beccarla, who was the Duke's Minister of -State. - -'An odd proposal this from you, Lord Bellarion, remembering that it was -by your own action in concert with the Count of Biandrate that the -Marquis Theodore was placed in possession of Vercelli.' - -Bellarion crushed him with his logic. 'Not odd, sir, natural. Then I was -on the other side. And if, being on the other side, I conceived it -important that Theodore should hold Vercelli, now that I am opposed to -him I conceive it equally important that he should be driven from it.' - -There was a pause. Filippo Maria, somnolent in his great chair, looked -round the group. 'What is the military view?' he asked. He had noticed -that not one of the captains had voiced an opinion. He was answered now -by the burly Koenigshofen. - -'I have no views that are not Bellarion's. I have followed him long -enough to know that he's a safe man to follow.' - -Giasone Trotta, uninvited, expressed the same sentiment. Filippo Maria -turned to Carmagnola, who sat silent and thoughtful. - -'And you, sir?' he asked. - -Carmagnola reared his blond head, and Bellarion braced himself for -battle. But to his amazement, for once--for the first time in their long -association--Carmagnola was on his side. - -'I am of Bellarion's mind, magnificent. We who were with my Lord Facino -when he made alliance with Theodore of Montferrat know Theodore for a -crafty, daring man of boundless ambition. His occupation of Vercelli is -a menace to the peace of the duchy.' - -After that the other captains, Valperga and Marsilio, who had been -wavering, threw in their votes, so that the military opinion was solidly -unanimous. - -Filippo Maria balanced the matter for a moment. - -'You are not forgetting, sirs, that for Theodore's good behaviour I have -in my hands a precious hostage, in the person of his nephew, the Marquis -Gian Giacomo, in whose name Theodore rules. You laugh, Bellarion!' - -'That hostage was procured to ensure, not the good faith of Theodore, -but the safety of the real Prince of Montferrat. Carmagnola has told -your magnificence that Theodore is crafty, daring, and ambitious. It is -a part of his ambition to make himself absolute sovereign where at -present he is no more than Regent. Let your magnificence judge if the -thought of harm to the hostage you hold would be a deterrent to him.' - -A while still they debated. Then Filippo Maria announced that he would -take thought and make known his decision when it was reached. On that he -dismissed them. - -As they went from the council chamber the captains witnessed the -phenomenon of a yet closer unity between Bellarion and Carmagnola. The -new Prince of Valsassina linked arms with Francesco Busone, and drew him -away. - -'You will do a service in this matter, Ser Francesco, if you send word -to Lady Valeria and her brother urging them to come at once to Milan and -petition the Duke to place Gian Giacomo upon his throne. He is of full -age, and only his absence from Montferrat enables Theodore to continue -in the Regency.' - -Carmagnola looked at him suspiciously. 'Why do you not send that -message, yourself?' - -Bellarion shrugged and spread his hands a little. 'I have not the -confidence of the Princess. A message from me might be mistrusted.' - -Carmagnola's fine blue eyes pondered him still with that suspicious -glance. 'What game do you play?' he asked. - -'I see that you mistrust me, too.' - -'I ever have done.' - -'It's a compliment,' said Bellarion. - -'If it is, I don't perceive it.' - -'If you did, you wouldn't pay it. You are direct, Carmagnola; and for -that I honour you. I am not direct, and yet you may come to honour me -for that too when you understand it, if you ever do. You ask what game I -play. A game which began long ago, in which this is the last move. The -alliance I brought about between Facino and Theodore was a move in this -game; the securing of the person of Gian Giacomo of Montferrat as a -hostage was another; to make it possible for Theodore to occupy Vercelli -and make himself Lord of Genoa, yet another. My only aim was to unbridle -his greed so that he should become a menace to the duchy, against such a -day as this, when on the Duke's side it is my duty to advise his -definite destruction.' - -Carmagnola's eyes were wide, amazement overspread his florid handsome -face. - -'By the bones of Saint Ambrose, you play mighty deep!' - -Bellarion smiled. 'I am frank with you. I explain myself. It is tedious -but necessary so as to conquer your mistrust and procure your -cooperation.' - -'To make me a pawn in this game of yours?' - -'That is to describe yourself unflatteringly. Francesco Busone of -Carmagnola is no man's pawn.' - -'No, by God! I am glad you perceive that.' - -'Should I have explained myself if I did not?' said Bellarion to assure -him of a fact of which clearly he was far from sure. - -'Tell me why you so schemed and plotted?' - -Bellarion sighed. 'To amuse myself, perhaps. It interests me. Facino -said of me that I was a natural strategist. This broader strategy upon -the great field of life gives scope to my inclinations.' He was -thoughtful, chin in hand. 'I do not think there is more in it than -that.' And abruptly he asked: 'You'll send that message?' - -Carmagnola too considered. There was a dream that he had dreamed, a game -that he could play, making in his turn a pawn of this crafty brother -captain who sought to make a pawn of him. - -'I'll go to Melegnano in person,' he announced. - -He went, and there dispelled the fretful suspense in which the Princess -Valeria waited for a justice of which she almost despaired. - -He dealt in that directness which was the only thing Bellarion found to -honour in him. But the directness now was in his manner only. - -'Lady, I come to bid you take a hand in your own and your brother's -reinstatement. Your petition to the Duke is all that is needed now to -persuade him to the step which I have urged; to march against the -usurper Theodore and cast him out. - -It took her breath away. 'You have urged this! You, my lord? Let me send -for my brother that he may thank you, that he may know that he has at -least one stout brave friend in the world.' - -'His friend and your servant, madonna.' He bore her white hand to his -lips, and there were tears in her eyes as she looked upon his bowed -handsome head. 'My hopes, my plans, my schemes for you are to bear fruit -at last.' - -'Your schemes for me?' - -Her brows were knit over her moist dark eyes. He laughed. A jovial, -debonair, and laughter-loving gentleman, this Francesco Busone of -Carmagnola. - -'So as to provide a cause disposing the Duke of Milan to proceed against -the Regent Theodore. The hour has come, madonna. It needs but your -petition to Filippo Maria, and the army marches. So that I command it, I -will see justice done to your brother.' - -'So that you command it? Who else should?' Carmagnola's bright face was -overcast. 'There is Bellarion Cane.' - -'That knave!' She recoiled, her countenance troubled. 'He is the -Regent's man. It was he who helped the Regent to Vercelli and to the -lordship of Genoa.' - -'Which he never could have done,' Carmagnola assured her, 'but that I -abetted him. I saw that thus I should provide a reason for action -against the Regent when later I should come to be on the Duke's side.' - -'Ah! That was shrewd! To feed his ambition until he overreached -himself.' - -Carmagnola strutted a little. 'It was a deep game. But we are at the -last move in it. If you mistrust this Bellarion ...' - -'Mistrust him!' She laughed a bitter little laugh, and she poured forth -the tale of how once he had been a spy sent by Theodore to embroil her, -and how thereafter he had murdered her one true and devoted friend Count -Spigno. - -Feeding her mistrust and bringing Gian Giacomo fully to share it, -Carmagnola conducted them to Milan and procured audience for them with -the Duke. - -Filippo Maria received her in a small room in the very heart of the -fortress, a room to which he had brought something of the atmosphere of -his library at Pavia. Here were the choicely bound manuscripts, and the -writing-table with its sheaves of parchment, and its horn of unicorn, -which as all the world knows is a prophylactic against all manner of -ills of the flesh and the spirit. Its double window looked out upon the -court of San Donato where the October sunshine warmed the red brick to -the colour of the rose. - -He gave her a kindly welcome, then settled into the inscrutable inertia -of an obese Eastern idol whilst she made her prayer to him. - -When it was done he nodded slowly, and despatched his secretary in quest -of the Prince of Valsassina. The name conveyed nothing to her, for she -had not heard of Bellarion's latest dignity. - -'You shall have my decision later, madonna. It is almost made already, -and in the direction you desire. When I have conferred with the Prince -of Valsassina upon the means at our command, I will send for you again. -Meanwhile the Lord of Carmagnola will conduct you and your brother to my -Duchess, whom it will delight to care for you.' He cleared his throat. -'You have leave to go,' he added in his shrill voice. - -They bowed, and were departing, when the returning secretary, opening -the door, and holding up the arras that masked it, announced: 'The -Prince of Valsassina.' - -He came in erect and proud of bearing, for all that he still limped a -little. His tunic was of black velvet edged with dark brown fur, a heavy -gold chain hung upon his breast, a girdle of beaten gold gripped his -loins and carried his stout dagger. His hose were in white and blue -stripes. - -From the threshold he bowed low to the Prince and then to Madonna -Valeria, who was staring at him in sudden panic. - -She curtsied to him almost despite herself, and then made haste to -depart with Carmagnola and her brother. But there was a weight of lead -in her breast. If action against Theodore depended upon this man's -counsel, what hope remained? She put that question to Carmagnola. He -quieted her fears. - -'After all, he is not omnipotent. Our fealty is not to him, but to the -Duchess Beatrice. Win her to your side, and things will shape the course -you desire, especially if I command the enterprise.' - -And meanwhile this man whom she mistrusted was closeted with the Duke, -and the Duke was informing him of this new factor in their plans against -Montferrat. - -'She desires us to break a lance in her brother's behalf. But Montferrat -is loyal to Theodore. They have no opinion there of Gian Giacomo, and to -impose by force of arms a prince upon a people is perhaps to render that -people hostile to ourselves.' - -'If that were so, and I confess that I do not share your potency's -apprehensions, it would still be the course I should presume to advise. -In Theodore you have a neighbour whom ambition makes dangerous. In Gian -Giacomo you have a mild and gentle youth, whose thoughts, since his -conversion from debauchery, turn rather to religion than to deeds of -arms. Place him upon the throne of his fathers, and you have in such a -man not only a friendly neighbour but a grateful servant.' - -'Ha! You believe in gratitude, Bellarion?' - -'I must, since I practise it.' - -There followed that night a council of the captains, and since they were -still nominally regarded as in the service of Facino's widow, the -Duchess herself attended it, and since the fortunes of the legitimate -ruler of Montferrat was one of the issues, the Marquis Gian Giacomo and -his sister were also invited to be present. - -The Duke, at the head of the long table, with the Duchess on his right -and Bellarion on his left, made known the intention to declare war -immediately upon the Regent of Montferrat upon two grounds: his -occupation of the Milanese stronghold and lands of Vercelli, and his -usurpation of the regency beyond the Marquis Gian Giacomo's attainment -of full age. Of his captains now he desired an account of the means at -their disposal, and afterwards a decision of those to be employed in the -undertaking. - -Carmagnola came prepared with a computation of the probable forces which -Theodore could levy; and they were considerable; not less than five -thousand men. The necessary force to deal with him was next debated, -having regard also to certain other enterprises to which Milan was -elsewhere committed. At length this was fixed by Bellarion. It was to -consist of the Germans under Koenigshofen, Stoffel's Swiss, Giasone -Trotta's Italian mercenaries, and Marsilio's condotta, amounting in all -to some seven thousand men. That would leave free for other -eventualities the condottas of Valperga and of Carmagnola with whom were -Ercole Belluno and Ugolino da Tenda. - -Against this, and on the plea that the Duke might require the services -of the Prince of Valsassina at home, Carmagnola begged that the -enterprise against Montferrat should be confided to his leadership, his -own condotta taking the place of Bellarion's, but all else remaining as -Bellarion disposed. - -The Duke, showing in his pale face no sign of his surprise at this -request, looked from Carmagnola to Bellarion, appearing to ponder, what -time the Princess Valeria held her breath. - -At length the Duke spoke. 'Have you anything to say to that, -Valsassina?' - -'Nothing if your highness is content. You will remember that Theodore of -Montferrat is one of the most skilful captains of the day, and if this -business is not to drag on unduly, indeed if it is to be brought to a -successful issue, you would do well to send against him of your best.' - -A sly smile broke upon that sinisterly placid countenance. - -'By which you mean yourself.' - -'For my part,' said Koenigshofen, 'I do not willingly march under -another.' - -'And for mine,' said Stoffel, 'whilst Bellarion lives I do not march -under another at all.' - -The Duke looked at Carmagnola. 'You hear, sir?' - -Carmagnola flushed uncomfortably. 'I had set my heart upon the -enterprise, Lord Duke.' - -The Princess Valeria interposed. 'By your leave, highness; does my vote -count for anything in this matter?' - -'Assuredly, madonna. Your own and your brother's.' - -'Then, Lord Duke, my vote, indeed my prayer, is that my Lord of -Carmagnola be given the command.' - -The Duchess raised her long eyes to look at her in wonder. - -Bellarion sat inscrutable. - -The request wounded without surprising him. He knew her unconquerable -mistrust of him. He had hoped in the end which was now approaching to -prove to her its cruel injustice. But if occasion for that were denied -him, it would be no great matter. What signified was that her own aims -should be accomplished, and, after all, they were not beyond the -strength and skill of Carmagnola, who had his talents as a leader when -all was said. - -The Duke's lack-lustre eyes were steadily upon Valeria. He spoke after a -pause. - -'Almost you imply a doubt of the Prince of Valsassina's capacity.' - -'Not of his capacity. Oh, not of that!' - -'Of what, then?' - -The question troubled her. She looked at her brother, and her brother -answered for her. - -'My sister remembers that the Prince of Valsassina was once the Marquis -Theodore's friend.' - -'Was he so? When was that?' The Duke looked at Bellarion, but it was -Gian Giacomo who answered the question. - -'When, in alliance with him, he placed him in possession of Vercelli and -Genoa.' - -'The alliance was the Lord Facino's, not Valsassina's. Bellarion served -under him. But so also did Carmagnola. Where is the difference between -them?' - -'My Lord of Carmagnola acted then with a view to my brother's ultimate -service,' the Princess answered. 'If he was a party to the Marquis -Theodore's occupation of Vercelli, it was only so that in that act the -Marquis might provide a cause for the action that is now proposed -against him by the Duke of Milan.' - -Bellarion laughed softly at the light he suddenly perceived. - -'Do you mock that statement, sir?' Carmagnola challenged him. 'Do you -dare to say what was in my mind at the time?' - -'I have honoured you for directness, Carmagnola. But it seems you can be -subtle too.' - -'Subtle!' Carmagnola flushed indignantly. 'In what have I been subtle?' - -'In the spirit in which you favoured Theodore's occupation of Vercelli,' -said Bellarion, and so left him gaping foolishly. 'What else did you -think I had in mind?' He smiled almost ingenuously into the other's -face. - -The Duke rapped the table. 'Sirs, sirs! We wander. And there is this -matter to resolve.' - -Bellarion answered him. - -'Here, then, is a solution your highness may be disposed to adopt. -Instead of Valperga and his troops, I take with me Carmagnola and his -own condotta which is of a similar strength, and, like Valperga's, -mainly horse. Thus we march together, and share the enterprise.' - -'But unless Bellarion commands it, Lord Duke, your highness will -graciously consider sending another condotta in the place of mine,' said -Koenigshofen, and Stoffel was about to add his own voice to that, when -the Duke losing patience broke in. - -'Peace! Peace! I am Duke of Milan, and I give orders here. You are -summoned to advise, not to browbeat me and say what you will and will -not do. Let it be done as Valsassina says, since Carmagnola has set his -heart upon being in the campaign. But Valsassina leads the enterprise. -The matter is closed on that. You have leave to go.' - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -CARMAGNOLA'S BRIDGES - - -Dissensions at the very outset between Carmagnola and Bellarion -protracted by some days the preparations for the departure of the army. -This enabled Theodore of Montferrat fully to make his dispositions for -resistance, to pack the granaries of Vercelli and otherwise victual it -for a siege, and to increase the strong body of troops already under his -hand, with which he threw himself into the menaced city. Further, by -working furiously during those October days, he was enabled to -strengthen his bastions and throw up fresh earthworks, from which to -shatter the onslaught when it should come. - -Upon these very circumstances of which Bellarion and his captains were -duly informed followed fresh dissensions. Carmagnola advocated that -operations should be begun by the reduction of Mortara, which was being -held for Theodore, and which, if not seized before they marched upon -Vercelli, would constitute, he argued, a menace upon their rear. -Bellarion's view was that the menace was not sufficiently serious to -merit attention; that whilst they were reducing it, Theodore would -further be strengthening himself at Vercelli; and that, in short, they -should march straight upon Vercelli, depending that, when they forced it -to a capitulation, Mortara would thereby be scared into immediate -surrender. - -Of the captains some held one view, some the other. Koenigshofen, -Stoffel, and Trotta took sides with Bellarion. Ercole Belluno, who -commanded the foot in Carmagnola's condotta, took sides with his leader -as did also Ugolino da Tenda who captained a thousand horse. Yet -Bellarion would have overruled them but for the Princess Valeria who -with her brother entered now into all their councils. These were on the -side of Carmagnola. Hence a compromise was effected. A detachment under -Koenigshofen including Trotta's troops was to go against Mortara, to -cover the rear of the main army proceeding to Vercelli. - -To Vercelli that army, now not more than some four thousand strong, yet -strong enough in Bellarion's view for the task in hand, made at last a -speedy advance. But at Borgo Vercelli they were brought to a halt by the -fact that Theodore had blown up the bridge over the Sesia, leaving that -broad, deep, swift-flowing river between the enemy and the city which -was their goal. - -At Carpignano, twenty miles higher up, there was a bridge which -Bellarion ascertained had been left standing. He announced that they -must avail themselves of that. - -'Twenty miles there, and twenty miles back!' snorted Carmagnola. 'It is -too much. A weariness and a labour.' - -'I'll not dispute it. But the alternative is to go by way of Casale, -which is even farther.' - -'The alternative,' Carmagnola answered, 'is to bridge the Sesia and the -Cerva above their junction where the Sesia is narrower. Our lines of -communication with the army at Mortara should be as short as possible.' - -'You begin to perceive one of the disadvantages of having left that army -at Mortara.' - -'It is no disadvantage if we make proper provision.' - -'And you think that your bridges will afford that provision.' -Bellarion's manner was almost supercilious. - -Carmagnola resented it. 'Can you deny it?' - -'I can do more. I can foresee what will happen. Sometimes, Francesco, -you leave me wondering where you learnt the art of war, or how ever you -came to engage in it.' - -They held their discussion in the kitchen of a peasant's house which for -the Princess Valeria's sake they had invaded. And the Princess and her -brother were its only witnesses. When Carmagnola now moved wrathfully in -great strides about the dingy chamber, stamping upon the earthen floor -and waving his arms as he began to storm, one of those witnesses became -an actor to calm him. The Princess Valeria laid a hand upon one of those -waving arms in its gorgeous sleeve of gold-embroidered scarlet. - -'Do not heed his taunts, Messer Carmagnola. You have my utter trust and -confidence. It is my wish that you should build your bridges.' - -Bellarion tilted his chin to look at her between anger and amusement. - -'If you are to take command, highness, I'll say no more.' He bowed, and -went out. - -'One of these days I shall give that upstart dog a lesson in good -manners,' said Carmagnola between his teeth. - -The Princess shook her head. - -'It is not his manners, sir, that trouble me; but his possible aims. If -I could trust him ...' - -'If you could trust his loyalty, you should still mistrust his skill.' - -'Yet he has won great repute as a soldier,' put in Gian Giacomo, who -instinctively mistrusted the thrasonical airs of the swaggering -Carmagnola, and mistrusted still more his fawning manner towards -Valeria. - -'He has been fortunate,' Carmagnola answered, 'and his good fortune has -gone to his head.' - -Meanwhile Bellarion went straight from that interview to despatch Werner -von Stoffel with five hundred arbalesters and six hundred horse to -Carpignano. - -There was a fresh breeze with Carmagnola when the latter discovered -this. He demanded to know why it should have been done without previous -consultation with himself and the Princess, and Valeria was beside him -when he asked the question. - -Bellarion's answer was a very full one. - -'You will be a week building your bridges. In that time it may occur to -Theodore to do what he should have done already, to destroy the bridge -at Carpignano.' - -'And what do I care about the bridge at Carpignano when I shall have -bridges of my own here?' - -'When you have bridges of your own here, you need not care. But I have a -notion that it will be longer than you think before you have these -bridges, and that we may have to go by way of Carpignano in the end.' - -'I shall have my bridges in a week,' said Carmagnola. - -Bellarion smiled. 'When you have them, and when you have put two -thousand men across to hold them, I'll bid Stoffel return from -Carpignano.' - -'But in the meantime ...' - -Bellarion interrupted him, and suddenly he was very stern. - -'In the meantime you will remember that I command. Though I may choose -to humour you and her highness, as the shortest way to convince you of -error, yet I do not undertake to obey you against my better judgment.' - -'By God, Bellarion!' Carmagnola swore at him, 'I'll not have you gay -with me. You'll measure your words, or else you'll eat them.' - -Very coldly Bellarion looked at him, and observed Valeria's white -restraining hand which again was upon Carmagnola's sleeve. - -'At the moment I have a task in hand to which I belong entirely. While -it is doing if you forget that I command, I shall remove you from the -army.' - -He left the swaggerer fuming. - -'Only my regard for you, madonna, restrains me,' he assured the -Princess. 'He takes that tone when he should remember that, if it came -to blows between us, the majority of the men here would be upon my side, -now that he has sent nearly all his own away.' He clenched his hands in -anger. 'Yet for your sake, lady, I must suffer it. There can be no -quarrel between his men and mine until we have placed you and your -brother in possession of Montferrat.' - -These and other such professions of staunch selfless loyalty touched her -deeply; and in the days that followed, whilst the troopers, toiling like -woodmen, were felling trees and building the bridges above the junction -of the rivers, Carmagnola and Valeria were constantly together. - -She was driven now to the discomfort of living under canvas, sharing the -camp life of these rude men of war, and Carmagnola did all in his power -to mitigate for her the hardships it entailed, hardships which she bore -with a high gay courage. She would go with him daily to watch the -half-naked labourers in the river, bundling together whole trees as if -they were mere twigs, to serve as pontoons. And daily he gave her cause -to admire his skill, his ingenuity, and his military capacity. That -Bellarion should have sneered at this was but another proof of -Bellarion's worthlessness. Either he could not understand it, or else of -treacherous intent he desired to deprive her of its fruits. - -Meanwhile Carmagnola beglamoured her with talk of actions past, in all -of which he played ever the heroic part. The eyes of her mind were -dazzled by the pictures his words drew for her. Now she beheld him -leading a knightly charge that shattered an enemy host into shards; now -she saw him at the head of an escalade, indomitably climbing enemy walls -under a hail of stones and scalding pitch; now she saw him in council, -wisely planning the means by which victory might be snatched from -overwhelming opposition. - -One day when he spoke of these things, as they sat alone watching the -men who swarmed like ants about the building of his bridge, he touched a -closer note. - -'Yet of all the enterprises to which I have set these rude, soldier -hands, none has so warmed me as this, for none has been worthier a man's -endeavour. It will be a glorious day for me when we set you in your -palace at Casale. A glorious day, and yet a bitter.' - -'A bitter?' Her great dark eyes turned on him in question. - -His countenance clouded, his own glance fell away. 'Will it not be -bitter for me to know this service is at an end; to know that I must go -my ways; resume a mercenary's life, and do for hire that which I now do -out of ... enthusiasm and love?' - -She shifted her own glance, embarrassed a little. - -'Surely you do yourself less than justice. There is great honour and -fame in store for you, my lord.' - -'Honour and fame!' He laughed. 'I would gladly leave those to tricksters -like Bellarion, who rise to them so easily because no scruples ever -deter them. Honour and fame! Let who will have those, so that I may -serve where my heart bids me.' - -Boldly now his hand sought hers. She let it lie in his. Above those -pensive, mysterious eyes her line brows were knit. - -'Aye,' she breathed, 'that is the great service of life! That is the -only worthy service--as the heart bids.' - -His second hand came to recruit the first. Lying almost at her feet, he -swung round on his side upon the green earth, looking up at her in a -sort of ecstasy. 'You think that, too! You help me to self-contempt, -madonna.' - -'To self-contempt? It is the only contempt that you will ever know. But -why should you know that?' - -'Because all my life, until this moment, I have served for hire. -Because, if this adventure had not come to me by God's grace, in such -worthless endeavours would my life continue. Now--now that I know the -opinion in which you must hold such service--it is over and done for me. -When I shall have served you to your goal, I shall have performed my -last.' - -There fell a long pause between them. At last: 'When my brother is -crowned in Casale, he will need a servant such as you, Messer -Carmagnola.' - -'Aye, but shall you, madonna? Shall you?' - -She looked at him wistfully, smiling a little. He was very handsome, -very splendid and very brave, a knight to win a lady's trust, and she -was a very lonely, friendless lady in sore need of a stout arm and a -gallant heart to help her through the trials of this life. - -The tapering fingers of her disengaged hand descended gently upon his -golden head. - -'Shall I not?' she asked with a little tremulous laugh. 'Shall I not?' - -'Why, then, madonna, if you will accept my service, it shall be yours -for as long as I endure. It shall never be another's. Valeria! My -Valeria!' - -That hand upon his head, overheating its very indifferent contents, -drove him now to an excessive precipitancy. - -He carried the hand he held almost fiercely to his lips. - -It was withdrawn, gently but firmly as was its fellow. His kiss and the -bold use of her name scared her a little. - -'Carmagnola, my friend ...' - -'Your friend, and more than your friend, madonna.' - -'Why, how much more can there be than that?' - -'All that a man may be to a woman, my Valeria. I am your knight. I ever -have been since that day in the lists at Milan, when you bestowed the -palm on me. I joy in this battle that is to be fought for you. I would -joy in death for you if it were needed to prove my worship.' - -'How glibly you say these things! There will have been queens in other -lists in which you have borne off the palm. Have you talked so to them?' - -'O cruelty!' he cried out like a man in pain. 'That you should say this -to me! I am swooning at your feet, Valeria, you wonder of the world!' - -'My nose, sir, is too long for that!' She mocked him, but with an -underlying tenderness; and tenderness there was too in her moist eyes. -'You are a whirlwind in your wooing as in the lists. You are reckless, -sir.' - -'Is it a fault? A soldier's fault, then. But I'll be patient if you bid -me. I'll be whatsoever you bid me, Valeria. But when we come to -Casale ...' - -He paused for words, and she took advantage of that pause to check him. - -'It is unlucky to plan upon something not yet achieved, sir. Wait ... -wait until that time arrives.' - -'And then?' he asked her breathlessly. 'And then?' - -'Have I not said that to plan is unlucky?' - -Boldly he read the converse of that statement. 'I'll not tempt fortune, -then. I dare not. I will be patient, Valeria.' - -But he let it appear that his confidence was firm, and she added nothing -now to shake it. - -And so in ardent wooing whilst he waited for his bridge, Carmagnola -spent most of the time that he was not engaged in directing the -construction of it. Bellarion in those days sulked like Achilles in his -tent, with a copy of Vegetius which he had brought from Milan in his -baggage. - -The bridges took, not a week, but eleven days to build. At last, -however, on the eve of All Saints', as Fra Serafino tells us, Carmagnola -accompanied by Valeria and her brother bore word himself to Bellarion -that the bridges were ready and that a party of fifty of his men were -encamped on the peninsula between the rivers. He came to demand that -Bellarion should so dispose that the army should begin to cross at dawn. - -'That,' said Bellarion, 'assumes that your bridges endure until dawn.' - -He was standing, where he had risen to receive his visitors, in the -middle of his roomy pavilion, which was lighted by a group of three -lanterns hung at the height of his head on the tent-pole. The book in -which he had been reading was closed upon his forefinger. - -'Endure until dawn?' Carmagnola was annoyed by the suggestion. 'What do -you mean?' - -Bellarion's remark had been imprudent. Still more imprudent was the -laugh he now uttered. - -'Ask yourself who should destroy them,' he said. 'In your place I should -have asked myself that before I went to the trouble of building them.' - -'How should Theodore know of it, shut up as he is in Vercelli, eight -miles away?' - -Part of his question was answered on the instant by a demoniac uproar -from the strip of land across the water. Cries of rage and terror, -shouts of encouragement and command, the sound of blows, and all the -unmistakable din of conflict, rose fiercely upon the deepening gloom. - -'He knows, it seems,' said Bellarion, and again he laughed. - -Carmagnola stood a moment, clenching and unclenching his hands, his face -white with rage. Then he span round where he stood and with an -inarticulate cry dashed from the tent. - -One withering glance Valeria flashed into Bellarion's sardonically -amused countenance, then, summoning her brother, she followed -Carmagnola. - -Bellarion set down his book upon the table by the tent-pole, took up a -cloak, and followed them at leisure, through the screen of bare trees -behind which his pavilion had been pitched, and along the high bank of -the swirling river towards the head of Carmagnola's bridge. - -There, as he expected, he found them, scarcely visible in the gloom, and -with them a knot of men-at-arms and a half-dozen stragglers, all that -had escaped of the party that Carmagnola had sent across an hour ago. -The others had been surrounded and captured. Last of all to win across, -arriving just as Bellarion reached the spot, was Belluno, who had -commanded them, an excitable Neapolitan who leapt up the bank from the -bridge ranting by all the patrons of Naples that they had been betrayed. - -Over the river came a sound of tramping feet. Dimly reflected in the -water they could see the forms of men who otherwise moved invisible on -the farther bank, and presently came a sound of axes on timber. - -'There goes your bridge, Francesco,' said Bellarion, and for the third -time he laughed. - -'Do you mock me, damn you!' Carmagnola raged at him, and then raised his -voice to roar for arbalesters. Three or four of the men went off -vociferously, at a run, to fetch them, whilst Valeria turned suddenly -upon Bellarion, whose tall cloaked figure stood beside her. - -'Why do you laugh?' Her voice, sharp with disdain, resentment, and -suspicion, silenced all there that they might hear his answer. - -'I am human, I suppose, and, therefore, not entirely without malice.' - -'Is that all your reason? Is your malice so deep that you can laugh at -an enemy advantage which may wreck the labour of days?' And then with -increasing sharpness and increasing accusation: 'You knew!' she cried. -'You knew that the bridges would be destroyed to-night. Yourself, you -said so. How did you know? How did you know?' - -'What are you implying, madonna?' cried Carmagnola, aghast. For all his -hostility towards Bellarion, he was very far from ready to believe that -he played a double game. - -'That I have no wits,' said Bellarion, quietly scornful. - -And now the impetuous Belluno, smarting under his own particular -misadventure and near escape, must needs cut in. - -'Madonna is implying more than that. She is implying that you've sold us -to Theodore of Montferrat.' - -'Are you implying it, too, Belluno?' His tone had changed. There was now -in his voice a note that the Princess had never heard, a note that made -Belluno's blood run cold. 'Speak out, man! Though I give licence for -innuendo to a lady, I require clear speech from every man. So let us -have this thing quite plainly.' - -Belluno was brave and obstinate. He conquered his fear of Bellarion -sufficiently to make a show of standing his ground. - -'It is clear,' he answered sullenly, 'that we have been betrayed.' - -'How is it clear, you fool?' Bellarion shifted again from cold wrath -with an insubordinate inferior to argument with a fellow man. 'Are you -so inept at the trade by which you live that you can conceive of a -soldier in the Marquis Theodore's position neglecting to throw out -scouts to watch the enemy and report his movements? Are you so much a -fool as that? If so, I shall have to think of replacing you in your -command.' - -Carmagnola interposed aggressively; and this partly to protect Belluno -who was one of his own lieutenants, and partly because the sneer at the -fellow's lack of military foresight was a reflection upon Carmagnola -himself. - -'Do you pretend that you foresaw this action of Theodore's?' - -'I pretend that any but a fool must have foreseen it. It is precisely -what any soldier in his place would do: allow you to waste time, -material, and energy on building bridges, and then promptly destroy them -for you.' - -'Why, then, did you not say this ten days ago?' - -'Why?' Bellarion's voice sounded amused. His face they could not see. -'Because I never spend myself in argument with those who learn only by -experience.' - -Again the Princess intervened. 'Is that the best reason you can give? -You allowed time, material, and energy, and now even a detachment of men -to be wasted, merely that you might prove his folly to my Lord of -Carmagnola? Is that what you ask us to believe?' - -'He thinks us credulous, by God!' swore Carmagnola. - -Bellarion kept his patience. 'I had another reason, a military one with -which it seems that I must shame your wits. To move the whole army from -here to Carpignano would have taken me at least two days, perhaps three. -A mounted detachment from Vercelli to destroy the bridge could reach -Carpignano in a few hours, and once it was seen that I moved my army -thither that detachment would have been instantly despatched. It was a -movement I feared in any case, until your bridge-building operations -here deceived Theodore into believing that I had no thought of -Carpignano. That is why I allowed them to continue. Though your bridges -could never serve the purpose for which you built them, they could -excellently serve to disguise my own intention of crossing at -Carpignano. To-morrow, when the army begins to move thither, that -detachment of Theodore's will most certainly be sent to destroy the -bridge. But it will find it held by a thousand men under Stoffel, and -the probable capture of that detachment will compensate for the loss of -men you have suffered to-night.' - -There was a moment's utter silence when he had done, a silence of defeat -and confusion. Then came an applauding splutter of laughter from the -group of men and officers who stood about. - -It was cut short by a loud crash from across the stream, and, -thereafter, with a groaning and rending of timbers, a gurgling of -swelling, momentarily arrested, waters, and finally a noise like a -thunderclap, the wrecked bridge swinging out into the stream snapped -from the logs that held it to the northern shore. - -'There it goes, Carmagnola,' said Bellarion. 'But you no longer need -bewail your labours. They have served my purpose.' - -He cast his cloak more tightly about him, wished them good-night almost -gaily, and went striding away towards his pavilion. - -Carmagnola, crestfallen, swallowing his chagrin as best he could, stood -there in silence beside the equally silenced Princess. - -Belluno swore softly, and vented a laugh of some little bitterness. - -'He's deep, always deep, by Saint Januarius! Never does he do the things -he seems to do. Never does he aim where he looks.' - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -VERCELLI - - -A letter survives which the Prince of Valsassina wrote some little time -after these events to Duke Filippo Maria, in which occurs the following -criticism of the captains of his day: 'They are stout fellows and great -fighters, but rude, unlettered, and lacking culture. Their minds are -fertile, vigorous soil, but unbroken by the plough of learning, so that -the seeds of knowledge with which they are all too sparsely sown find -little root there.' - -At Carpignano, when they came there three days after breaking camp, they -found that all had fallen out as Bellarion calculated. A detachment of -horse one hundred strong had been sent in haste with the necessary -implements to destroy the bridge. That detachment Stoffel had -surrounded, captured, disarmed, and disbanded. - -They crossed, and after another three days marching down the right bank -of the Sesia they crossed the Cervo just above Quinto, where Bellarion -took up his quarters in the little castle owned there by the Lord -Girolamo Prato, who was with Theodore in Vercelli. - -Here, too, were housed the Princess and her brother and the Lord of -Carmagnola, the latter by now recovered from his humiliation in the -matter of his bridges to a state of normal self-complacency and -arrogance. - -An eighteenth-century French writer on tactics, M. Dévinequi, in his -'L'Art Militaire au Moyen Age,' in the course of a lengthy comparison -between the methods of Bellarion Cane and the almost equally famous Sir -John Hawkwood, offers some strong adverse criticisms upon Bellarion's -dispositions in the case of this siege of Vercelli. He considers that as -a necessary measure of preparation Bellarion when at Quinto should have -thrown bridges across the Sesia above and below the city, so as to -maintain unbroken his lines of circumvallation, instead of contenting -himself with ferrying a force across to guard the eastern approaches. -This force, being cut off by the river, could, says M. Dévinequi, -neither be supported at need nor afford support. - -What the distinguished French writer has missed is the fact that, once -engaged upon it, Bellarion was as little in earnest about the siege of -Vercelli as he was about Carmagnola's bridges. The one as much as the -other was no more than a strategic demonstration. From the outset--that -is to say, from the time when arriving at Quinto he beheld the strong -earthworks Theodore had thrown up--he realised that the place was not -easily to be carried by assault, and it was within his knowledge that it -was too well victualled to succumb to hunger save after a siege more -protracted than he himself was prepared to impose upon it. - -But there was Carmagnola, swaggering and thrasonical in spite of all -that had gone, and there was the Princess Valeria supporting the -handsome condottiero with her confidence. And Carmagnola, not content -that Bellarion should girdle the city, arguing reasonably enough that -months would be entailed in bringing Theodore to surrender from hunger, -was loud and insistent in his demands that the place be assaulted. Once -again, as in the case of the bridges, Bellarion yielded to the other's -overbearing insistence, went even the length of inviting him to plan and -conduct the assaults. Three of these were delivered, and all three -repulsed with ease by an enemy that appeared to Bellarion to be -uncannily prescient. After the third repulse, the same suspicion -occurred to Carmagnola, and he expressed it; not, however, to Bellarion, -as he should have done, but to the Princess. - -'You mean,' she said, 'that some one on our side is conveying -information to Theodore of our intentions?' - -They were alone together in the armoury of the Castle of Quinto whose -pointed windows overlooked the river. It was normally a bare room with -stone walls and a vaulted white ceiling up which crawled a troop of the -rampant lions of the Prati crudely frescoed in a dingy red. Bellarion -had brought to it some furnishings that made it habitable, and so it -became the room they chiefly used. - -The Princess sat by the table in a great chair of painted leather, faded -but comfortable. She was wrapped in a long blue gown that was lined with -lynx fur against the chill weather which had set in. Carmagnola, big and -gaudy in a suit of the colour of sulphur, his tunic reversed with black -fur, his powerful yet shapely legs booted to the knee, strode to and fro -across the room in his excitement. - -'It is what I begin to fear,' he answered her, and resumed his pacing. - -A silence followed, and remained unbroken until he went to plant -himself, his feet wide, his hands behind him, before the logs that -blazed in the cavernous fireplace. - -She looked up and met his glance. 'You know what I am thinking,' he -said. 'I am wondering whether you may not be right, after all, in your -suspicions.' - -Gently she shook her head. 'I dismissed them on that night when your -bridges were destroyed. His vindication was so complete, what followed -proved him so right, that I could suspect him no longer. He is just a -mercenary fellow, fighting for the hand that pays. I trust him now -because he must know that he can win more by loyalty than by treachery.' - -'Aye,' he agreed, 'you are right, my Princess. You are always right.' - -'I was not right in my suspicions of him. So think no more of those.' - -Standing as he did, he was completely screening the fire from her. She -rose and crossed to it, holding out her hands to the blaze when he made -room for her beside him. - -'I am chilled,' she said. 'As much, I think, by our want of progress as -by these November winds.' - -'Nay, but take heart, Valeria,' he bade her. 'The one will last no -longer than the other. Spring will follow in the world and in your -soul.' - -She looked up at him, and found him good to look upon, so big and -strong, so handsome and so confident. - -'It is heartening to have such a man as you for company in such days.' - -He took her in his arms, a masterful, irresistible fellow. - -'With such a woman as you beside me, Valeria, I could conquer the -world.' - -A dry voice broke in upon that rapture: 'You might make a beginning by -conquering Vercelli.' - -Starting guiltily apart, they met the mocking eyes of Bellarion who -entered. He came forward easily, as handsome in his way as Carmagnola, -but cast in a finer, statelier mould. 'I should be grateful to you, -Francesco, and so would her highness, if you would accomplish that. The -world can wait until afterwards.' - -And Carmagnola, to cover his confusion and Valeria's, plunged headlong -into contention. - -'I'd reduce Vercelli to-morrow if I had my way.' - -'Who hinders you?' - -'You do. There was that night attack ...' - -'Oh, that!' said Bellarion. 'Do you bring that up again? Will you never -take my word for anything, I wonder? It is foredoomed to failure.' - -'Not if conducted as I would have it.' He came forward to the table, -swaying from the hips in his swaggering walk. He put his finger on the -map that was spread there. 'If a false attack were made here, on the -east, between the city and the river, so as to draw the besieged, a -bold, simultaneous attack on the west might carry the walls.' - -'It might,' said Bellarion slowly, and fell to considering. 'This is a -new thought of yours, this false attack. It has its merits.' - -'You approve me for once! What condescension!' - -Bellarion ignored the interruption. 'It also has its dangers. The party -making the feint--and it will need to be a strong one or its real -purpose will be guessed--might easily be thrust into the river by a -determined sally.' - -'It will not come to that,' Carmagnola answered quickly. - -'You cannot say so much.' - -'Why not? The feint will draw the besieged in that direction, but before -they can sally they will be recalled by the real attack striking on the -other side.' - -Bellarion pondered again; but finally shook his head. - -'I have said that it has its merits, and it tempts me. But I will not -take the risk.' - -'The risk of what?' Carmagnola was being exasperated by that quiet, -determined opposition. 'God's death! Take charge of the feint yourself, -if you wish. I'll lead the storming party, and so that you do your part, -I'll answer for it that I am inside the town before daybreak and that -Theodore will be in my hands.' - -Valeria had remained with her shoulders to them facing the fire. -Bellarion's entrance, discovering her in Carmagnola's arms, had covered -her with confusion, filled her with a vexation not only against himself -but against Carmagnola also. From this there was no recovery until -Camagnola's words came now to promise a conclusion of their troubles far -speedier than any she had dared to hope. - -'You'll answer for it?' said Bellarion. 'And if you fail?' - -'I will not fail. You say yourself that it is soundly planned.' - -'Did I say so much? Surely not. To be frank, I am more afraid of -Theodore of Montferrat than of any captain I've yet opposed.' - -'Afraid!' said Carmagnola, and sneered. - -'Afraid,' Bellarion repeated quietly. 'I don't charge like a bull. I -like to know exactly where I am going.' - -'In this case, I have told you.' - -Valeria slowly crossed to them. 'Make the endeavour, at least, Lord -Prince,' she begged him. - -He looked from one to the other of them. 'Between you, you distract me a -little. And you do not learn, which is really sad. Well, have your way, -Francesco. The adventure may succeed. But if it fails, do not again -attempt to persuade me to any course through which I do not clearly see -my way.' - -Valeria in her thanks was nearer to friendliness than he had ever known -since that last night at Casale. Those thanks he received with a certain -chill austerity. - -It was to be Carmagnola's enterprise, and he left it to Carmagnola to -make all the dispositions. The attempt was planned for the following -night. It was to take place precisely at midnight, which at that time of -year was the seventh hour, and the signal for launching the false attack -was to be taken from the clock on San Vittore, one of the few clocks in -Italy at that date to strike the hour. After an interval sufficient to -allow the defenders to engage on that side, Carmagnola would open the -real attack. - -Empanoplied in his armour, and carrying his peaked helm in the crook of -his arm, Carmagnola went to ask of the Princess a blessing on his -enterprise. She broke into expressions of gratitude. - -'Do not thank me yet,' he said. 'Before morning, God helping me, I shall -lay the State of Montferrat at your feet. Then I shall ask your thanks.' - -She flushed under his ardent gaze. 'I shall pray for you,' she promised -him very fervently, and laid a hand upon his steel brassard. He bore it -to his lips, bowed stiffly, and clanked out of the room. - -Bellarion did not come to seek her. Lightly armed, with no more than -back and breast and a steel cap on his head, he led out his men through -the night, making a wide détour so that their movements should not be -heard in Vercelli. Since mobility was of the first importance, he took -with him only a body of some eight hundred horse. They filed along by -the river to the east of the city, which loomed there a vast black -shadow against the faintly irradiated sky. They took up their station, -dismounted, unlimbered the scaling ladders which they had brought for -the purposes of their demonstration, and waited. - -They were, as Bellarion calculated, close upon the appointed hour when -at one point of the line there was a sudden commotion. A man had been -caught who had come prowling forward, and who, upon being seized, -demanded to be taken at once before their leader. - -Roughly they did as he required of them. And there in the dark, for they -dared kindle no betraying light, Bellarion learnt that he was a loyal -subject of the Duke of Milan who had slipped out of the city to inform -them that the Marquis Theodore was advised of their attack and ready to -meet it. - -Bellarion swore profusely, a rare thing in him who seldom allowed -himself to be mastered by his temper. But his fear of Theodore's craft -drove him now like a fiery spur. If Theodore was forewarned, who could -say what countermeasures Theodore had not prepared? This came of lending -ear to that bellowing calf Carmagnola! - -Fiercely he gave the order to mount. There was some delay in the dark, -and whilst they were still being marshalled the bell of San Vittore -tolled the seventh hour. Some moments after that were lost before they -were spurring off to warn and withdraw Carmagnola. Even then it was -necessary to go cautiously through the dark over ground now sodden by -several days of rain. - -Before they were halfway round the din of combat burst upon the air. - -Theodore had permitted Carmagnola's men to reach and faggot the moat, -and even to plant some ladders, before moving. Then he had thrown out -his army, in two wings, one from the gate to the north, the other from a -gate on the opposite side, and these two wings had swept round to charge -Carmagnola in flank and to envelop him. - -Two things only saved Carmagnola: in the first place, Theodore's -counter-attack was prematurely launched, before Carmagnola was -sufficiently committed; in the second, Stoffel, taking matters into his -own hands, and employing the infantry tactics advocated by Bellarion, -drew off his men, and formed them up to receive the charge he heard -advancing from the north. That charge cost Theodore a score of piked -horses, and it failed to break through the bristling human wall that -rose before it in the dark. Having flung the charge back, Stoffel, -formed his men quickly into the hedgehog, embracing within it all that -he could compass of Carmagnola's other detachments, and in this -formation proceeded to draw off, intent upon saving all that he could -from the disaster that was upon them. - -Meanwhile the other battle, issuing from the gate on the south and led -by Theodore himself, had crashed into Carmagnola's own body, which -Carmagnola and Belluno were vainly seeking to marshal. They might have -made an end of that detachment, which comprised the best part of -Bellarion's condotta, had not Bellarion with his eight hundred horse at -last come up to charge the enemy rear. That was the saving stroke. -Caught now between two masses, realising that his counter-surprise had -failed, and unable in the dark to attempt a fresh manœuvre, Theodore -ordered his trumpeters to sound the retreat. - -Each side accounted itself fortunate in being able to retire in good -order. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -THE ARREST - - -In the armoury of the castle of Quinto, Carmagnola paced like a caged -panther, the half of his armour still hanging upon him, his blond head -still encased in the close-fitting cap of blood-red velvet that served -to protect it from the helmet. And as he paced, he ranted of treachery -and other things to Valeria and Gian Giacomo of Montferrat, to the -half-dozen captains who had returned to render with him the account of -that galling failure. - -The Princess occupied the big chair by the table, whilst her brother -leaned upon the back of it. Beyond stood ranged Ugolino da Tenda, Ercole -Belluno, Stoffel, and three others, their armour flashing in the golden -light of the cluster of candles set upon the table. Over by the hearth -in another high-backed chair sat Bellarion, still in his black corselet, -his long legs in their mud-splashed boots stretched straight before him, -his head cased in a close-fitting cap of peach-coloured velvet, -disdainfully listening to Carmagnola's furious tirade. He guessed the -bitterness in the soul of the boaster who had promised so much to -achieve so little. Therefore he was patient with him for a while. But to -all things there must be an end, and an end there was to Bellarion's -patience. - -'Talking mends nothing, Francesco,' he broke in at last. - -'It may prevent a repetition.' - -'There can be no repetition, because there will be no second attempt. I -should never have permitted this but that you plagued me with your -insistence.' - -'And I should have succeeded had you done your part!' roared Carmagnola -in fury, a vain, humiliated man reckless of where he cast the blame for -his own failure. 'By God's Life, that is why disaster overtook us. Had -you delivered your own attack as was concerted between us, Theodore must -have sent a force to meet it.' - -Bellarion remained calm under the accusation, and under the eyes of that -company, all reproachful save Stoffel's. The Swiss, unable to contain -himself, laughed aloud. - -'If the Lord Bellarion had done that, sir, you might not now be alive. -It was his change of plan, and the charge he delivered upon Theodore's -rear, that enabled us to extricate ourselves, and so averted a disaster -that might have been complete.' - -'And whilst you are noticing that fact,' said Bellarion, 'it may also be -worthy of your attention that if Stoffel had not ranged his foot to -receive the charge from Theodore's right wing, and afterwards formed a -hedgehog to encircle and defend you, you would not now be ranting here. -It occurs to me that an expression of gratitude and praise for Stoffel -would be not so much gracious as proper.' - -Carmagnola glared. 'Ah, yes! You support each other! We are to thank you -now for a failure, which your own action helped to bring about, -Bellarion.' - -Bellarion continued unruffled. 'The accusation impugns only your own -intelligence.' - -'Does it so? Does it so? Ha! Where is this man who came, you say, to -tell you that Theodore was forewarned of the attack?' - -Bellarion shrugged. 'Do I know where he is? Do I care? Does it matter?' - -'A man comes to you out of the night with such a message as that, and -you don't know what has become of him!' - -'I had other things to do than think of him. I had to think of you, and -get you out of the trap that threatened you.' - -'And I say that you would have best done that by attacking on your own -side, as we agreed.' - -'We never agreed that I should attack. But only that I should pretend to -attack. I had not the means to push home an escalade.' His suavity -suddenly departed. 'But it seems to me that I begin to defend myself.' -He reached for his steel cap, and stood up. - -'It becomes necessary!' cried Carmagnola, who in two strides was at his -side. - -'Only that I should defend myself from a charge of rashness in having -yielded to your insistence to attempt this night-attack. There was a -chance, I thought, of success, and since the alternative of starving the -place would entail a delay of months, I took that chance. It has missed, -and so forces me to a course I've been considering from the outset. -To-morrow I shall raise the siege.' - -'You'll raise the siege!' - -That ejaculation of amazement came in chorus. - -'Not only of Vercelli, but also of Mortara.' - -'You'll raise the siege, sir?' It was Gian Giacomo who spoke now. 'And -what then?' - -'That shall be decided to-morrow in council. It is almost daybreak. I'll -wish you a good repose, madonna, and you, sirs.' He bowed to the company -and moved to the door. - -Carmagnola put himself in his way. 'Ah, but wait, Bellarion ...' - -'To-morrow,' Bellarion's voice was hard and peremptory. 'By then your -wits may be cooler and clearer. If you will all gather here at noon, you -shall learn my plans. Good-night.' And he went out. - -They gathered there, not at noon on the morrow, but an hour before that -time, summoned by messages from Carmagnola, who was the last to arrive -and a prey to great excitement. Belluno, da Tenda, Stoffel, and three -other officers awaited him with the Princess and the Marquis Gian -Giacomo. Bellarion was not present. He had not been informed of the -gathering, for reasons which Carmagnola's first words made clear to all. - -When Bellarion did arrive, punctually at noon, for the council to which -he had bidden the captains, he was surprised to find them already seated -about the table in debate and conducting this with a vehemence which -argued that matters had already gone some way. Their voices raised in -altercation reached him as he mounted the short flight of stone steps, -at the foot of which a half-dozen men of Belluno's company were -lounging. - -A silence fell when he entered, and all eyes at once were turned upon -him. He smiled a greeting, and closed the door. But as he advanced, he -began to realise that the sudden silence was unnatural and ominous. - -He came to the foot of the table, where there was a vacant place. He -looked at the faces on either side of it, and lastly at Carmagnola -seated at its head, between Valeria and Gian Giacomo. - -'What do you debate here?' he asked them. - -Carmagnola answered him. His voice was hard and hostile; his blue eyes -avoided the steady glance of Bellarion's. - -'We were about to send for you. We have discovered the traitor who is -communicating with Theodore of Montferrat, forewarning him of our every -measure, culminating in last night's business.' - -'That is something, although it comes at a time when it can no longer -greatly matter. Who is your traitor?' - -None answered him for a long moment. Saving Stoffel, who was flushed and -smiling disdainfully, and the Princess whose eyes were lowered, they -continued to stare at him and he began to mislike their stare. At last, -Carmagnola pushed towards him a folded square of parchment bearing a -broken seal. - -'Read that.' - -Bellarion took it, and turned it over. To his surprise he found it -superscribed 'To the Magnificent Lord Bellarion Cane, Prince of -Valsassina.' He frowned, and a little colour kindled in his cheeks. He -threw up his head, stern-eyed. 'How?' he asked. 'Who breaks the seals of -a letter addressed to me?' - -'Read the letter,' said Carmagnola, peremptorily. - -Bellarion read: - - -DEAR LORD AND FRIEND, your fidelity to me and my concerns -saved Vercelli last night from a blow that in its consequences might -have led to our surrender, for without your forewarning we should -assuredly have been taken by surprise. I desire you to know my -recognition of my debt, and to assure you again of the highest reward -that it lies in my power to bestow if you continue to serve me -with the same loyal devotion. - - THEODORE PALEOLOGO OF MONTFERRAT - - -Bellarion looked up from the letter with some anger in his face, but -infinitely more contempt and even a shade of amusement. - -'Where was this thing manufactured?' he asked. - -Carmagnola's answer was prompt. 'In Vercelli, by the Marquis Theodore. -It is in his own hand, as madonna here has testified, and it is sealed -with his own seal. Do you wonder that I broke it?' - -Sheer amazement overspread Bellarion's face. He looked at the Princess, -who fleetingly looked up to answer the question in his glance. 'The hand -is my uncle's, sir.' - -He turned the parchment over, and conned the seal with its stag device. -Then the amazement passed out of his face, light broke on it, and he -uttered a laugh. He turned, pulled up a stool, and sat down at the -table's foot, whence he had them all under his eye. - -'Let us proceed with method. How did this letter reach you, Carmagnola?' - -Carmagnola waved to Belluno, and Belluno, hostile of tone and manner, -answered the question. 'A clown coming from the direction of the city -blundered into my section of the lines this morning. He begged to be -taken to you. My men naturally brought him to me. I questioned him as to -what he desired with you. He answered that he bore a message. I asked -him what message he could be bearing to you from Vercelli. He refused to -answer further, whereupon I threatened him, and he produced this letter. -Seeing its seal, I took both the fellow and the letter to my Lord -Carmagnola.' - -Bellarion, himself, completed the tale. 'And Carmagnola perceiving that -seal took it upon himself to break it, and so discovered the contents to -be what already he suspected.' - -'That is what occurred.' - -Bellarion, entirely at his ease, looked at them with amused contempt, -and finally at Carmagnola in whose face he laughed. - -'God save you, Carmagnola! I often wonder what will be the end of you.' - -'I am no longer wondering what will be the end of you,' he was furiously -answered, which only went to increase his amusement. - -'And you others, you were equally deceived. The letter and Carmagnola's -advocacy of my falseness and treachery were not to be resisted?' - -'I have not been deceived,' Stoffel protested. - -'I was not classing you with those addled heads, Stoffel.' - -'It will need more than abuse to clear you,' Tenda warned him angrily. - -'You, too, Ugolino! And you, madonna, and even you Lord Marquis! Well, -well! It may need more than abuse to clear me; but surely not more than -this letter. Falsehood is in every line of it, in the superscription, in -the seal itself.' - -'How, sir?' the Princess asked him. 'Do you insist that it is forged?' - -'I have your word that it is not. But read the letter again.' - -He tossed it to them. 'The Marquis Theodore pays your wits a poor -compliment, Carmagnola, and the sequel has justified him. Ask yourselves -this: If I were, indeed, Theodore's friend and ally, could he have taken -a better way than this of putting it beyond my power to serve him -further? It is plainly superscribed to me, so that there shall be no -mistake as to the person for whom it is intended and it bears his full -signature, so that there shall be no possible mistake on the score of -whence it comes. In addition to that, he has sealed it with his arms, so -that the first person into whose hands it falls shall be justified in -ascertaining, as you did, what Theodore of Montferrat may have occasion -to write to me.' - -'It was expected that the soldiers who caught the clown would bear him -straight to you,' Carmagnola countered. - -'Was it? Is there no oddness in the fact that the clown should walk -straight into your own men, Carmagnola, on a section of the line that -does not lie directly between Vercelli and Quinto? But why waste time -even on such trifles of evidence. Read the letter itself. Is there a -single word in that which it was important to convey to me, or which -would not have been conveyed otherwise if it had been intended for any -purpose other than to bring me under this suspicion? Almost has Theodore -overreached himself in his guile. Out of his intentness to destroy me, -he has revealed his true aims.' - -'The very arguments I used with them,' said Stoffel. - -Bellarion looked in amazement at his lieutenant. 'And they failed?' he -cried, incredulous. - -'Of course they failed, you foul traitor!' Carmagnola bawled at him. -'They are ingenious, but they are obvious to a man caught as you are.' - -'It is not I that am caught; but you that are in danger of it, -Carmagnola, in danger of being caught in the web that Theodore has -spun.' - -'To what end? To what end should he spin it? Answer that.' - -'Perhaps to set up dissensions amongst us, perhaps to remove the only -one of the captains opposed to him whom he respects.' - -'You're modest, by God!' sneered Carmagnola. - -'And you're a purblind fool, Carmagnola,' cried Stoffel in heat. - -'Then are we all fools,' said Belluno. 'For we are all of the same mind -on this.' - -'Aye,' said Bellarion sadly. 'You're all of the same emptiness. That's -clear. Well, let us have in this clown and question him.' - -'To what purpose?' - -'That we may wring from him his precise instructions, since the letter -does not suffice.' - -'You take too much for granted. The letter suffices fully. You forget -that it is not all the evidence against you.' - -'What? Is there more?' - -'There is your failure last night to make the false attack you undertook -to make, and there is the intention you so rashly proclaimed here -afterwards that you would raise the siege of Vercelli to-day. Why should -you wish to do that if you are not Theodore's friend, if you are not the -canker-hearted traitor we now know you to be?' - -'If I were to tell you, you would not understand. I should merely give -you another proof that I am Theodore's ally.' - -'That is very probable,' said Carmagnola with a heavy sneer. 'Fetch the -guard, Ercole.' - -'What's this!' Bellarion was on his feet even as Belluno rose, and -Stoffel came up with him, laying hands on his weapons. But Ugolino da -Tenda and another captain between them overpowered him, whilst the other -two ranged themselves swiftly on Bellarion's either hand. Bellarion -looked at them, and from them again to Carmagnola. He was lost in -amazement. - -'Are you daring to place me under arrest?' - -'Until we deliberate what shall be done with you. We shall not keep you -waiting long.' - -'My God!' His wits worked swiftly, and he saw clearly that they might -easily work their will with him. Of the four thousand men out there, -only Stoffel's eight hundred Switzers would be on his side. The others -would follow the lead of their respective captains. The leaders upon -whom he could have depended in this pass--Koenigshofen and Giasone -Trotta--were away at Mortara. Perceiving at last this danger, hitherto -entirely unsuspected, he turned now to the Princess. - -'Madonna,' he said, 'it is you whom I serve. Once before you suspected -me, in the matter of Carmagnola's bridges, and the sequel proved you -wrong.' - -Slowly she raised her eyes to look at him fully for the first time since -he had joined that board. They were very sorrowful and her pallor was -deathly. - -'There are other matters, sir, besides that, which I remember. There is -the death of Enzo Spigno, for one.' - -He recoiled as if she had struck him. 'Spigno!' he echoed, and uttered a -queer little laugh. 'So it is Spigno who rises from his grave for -vengeance?' - -'Not for vengeance, sir. For justice. There would be that if there were -not the matter that Messer Carmagnola has urged to convict you.' - -'To convict me! Am I then convicted without trial?' - -None answered him, and in the pause that followed the men-at-arms -summoned by Belluno clanked in, and at a sign from Carmagnola closed -about Bellarion. There were four of them. One of the captains deprived -him of his dagger, the only weapon upon him, and flung it on the table. -At last Bellarion roused himself to some show of real heat. - -'Oh, but this is madness! What do you intend by me?' - -'That is to be deliberated. But be under no delusive hope, Bellarion.' - -'You are to decide my fate? You?' From Carmagnola, he looked at the -others. He had paled a little; but amazement still rode above fear. - -Stoffel, unable longer to contain himself, turned furiously upon -Carmagnola. 'You rash, vainglorious fool. If Bellarion is to be tried -there is none under the Duke's magnificence before whom he may be -arraigned.' - -'He has been arraigned already before us here. His guilt is clear, and -he has said nothing to dispel a single hair of it. There remains only to -decide his sentence.' - -'This is no proper arraignment. There has been no trial, nor have you -power to hold one,' Stoffel insisted. - -'You are wrong, captain. There are military laws ...' - -'I say this is no trial. If Bellarion is to be tried, you'll send him -before the Duke.' - -'And at the same time,' put in Bellarion, 'you'll send your single -witness; this clown who brought that letter. Your refusal to produce him -here before me now in itself shows the malice by which you're moved.' - -Carmagnola flushed under that charge, and scowlingly considered the -prisoner. 'If the form of trial you've received does not content you, -and since you charge me with personal feeling, there is another I am -ready to afford.' He drew himself up, and flung back his handsome head. -'Trial by battle, Lord Prince.' - -Over Bellarion's white face a sneer was spread. - -'And what shall it prove if you ride me down? Shall it prove more than -that you have the heavier weight of brawn, that you are more practised -in the lists and have the stronger thews? Does it need trial by battle -to prove that?' - -'God will defend the right,' said Carmagnola. - -'Will he so?' Bellarion laughed. 'I am glad to have your word for it. -But you forget that the right to challenge lies with me, the accused. In -your blundering stupidity you overlook essentials always. Your very -dulness acquits you of hypocrisy. Shall I exercise that right upon the -person in whose service I am carrying arms, upon the body of the Marquis -Gian Giacomo of Montferrat?' - -The frail boy named started, and looked up with dilating eyes. His -sister cried out in very real alarm. But Carmagnola covered them with -his answer. - -'I am your accuser, sir: not he.' - -'You are his deputy, no more,' Bellarion answered, and now the boy came -to his feet, white and tense. - -'He is in the right,' he announced. 'I cannot refuse him.' - -Smiling, Bellarion looked at Carmagnola, confused and awkward. - -'Always you overreach yourself,' he mocked him. He turned to Gian -Giacomo. 'You could not refuse me if I asked it. But I do not ask it. I -only desired to show the value of Carmagnola's offer.' - -'You have some decency still,' Carmagnola told him. - -'Whilst you cannot lay claim even to that. God made you a fool, and -that's the end of the matter.' - -'Take him away.' - -Already it seemed they had their orders. They laid hands upon him, and, -submitting without further words, he suffered them to lead him out. - -As the door closed upon him, Stoffel exploded. He raged and stormed. He -pleaded, argued, and vituperated them, even the Princess herself, for -fools and dolts, and finally threatened to raise the army against them, -or at least to do his utmost with his Swiss to prevent them from -carrying out their evil intentions. - -'Listen!' Carmagnola commanded sternly, and in the silence they heard -from the hall below a storm of angry outcries. 'That is the voice of the -army, answering you: the voice of those who were maimed last night as a -result of his betrayal. Saving yourself, there is not a captain in the -army, and saving your own Swiss, hardly a man who is not this morning -clamouring for Bellarion's death.' - -'You are confessing that you published the matter even before Bellarion -was examined here! My God, you villain, you hell-kite, you swaggering -ape, who give a free rein to the base jealousy in which you have ever -held Bellarion. Your mean spite may drive you now to the lengths of -murder. But look to yourself thereafter. You'll lose your empty head -over this, Carmagnola!' - -They silenced him and bore him out, whereafter they sat down to seal -Bellarion's fate. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -THE PLEDGE - - -Unanimously the captains voted for Bellarion's death. The only -dissentients were the Marquis and his sister. The latter was appalled by -the swiftness with which this thing had come upon them, and shrank from -being in any sense a party to the slaying of a man, however guilty. Also -not only was she touched by Bellarion's forbearance in the matter of -trial by battle against her brother, but his conduct in that connection -sowed in her mind the first real doubt of his guilt. Urgently she -pleaded that he should be sent for trial before the Duke. - -Carmagnola, in refusing, conveyed the impression of a great soul -wrestling with circumstances, a noble knight placing duty above -inclination. It was a part that well became his splendid person. - -'Because you ask it, madonna, for one reason, because of the imputations -of malice against me for another, I would give years of my life to wash -my hands of him and send him to Duke Filippo Maria. But out of other -considerations, in which your own and your brother's future are -concerned, I dare not. Saving perhaps Stoffel and his Swiss, the whole -army demands his death. The matter has gone too far.' - -The captains one and all proved him right by their own present -insistence. - -'Yet I do not believe him guilty,' the young Marquis startled them, 'and -I will be no party to the death of an innocent man.' - -'Would any of us?' Carmagnola asked him. 'Is there any room for doubt? -The letter ...' - -'The letter,' the boy interrupted hotly, 'is, as Bellarion says, a trick -of my uncle's to remove the one enemy he fears.' - -That touched Carmagnola's vanity with wounding effect. He dissembled the -hurt. But it served to strengthen his purpose. - -'That vain boaster has seduced you with his argument, eh?' - -'No; not with his argument, but with his conduct. He could have -challenged me to trial by combat, as he showed. What am I to stand -against him? A thing of straw. Yet he declined. Was that the action of a -trickster?' - -'It was,' Carmagnola answered emphatically. 'It was a trick to win you -over. For he knew, as we all know, that a sovereign prince does not lie -under that law of chivalry. He knew that if he had demanded it, you -would have been within your right in appointing a deputy.' - -'Why, then, did you not say so at the time?' the Princess asked him. - -'Because he did not press the matter. Oh, madonna, believe me there is -no man in Italy who less desires to have Bellarion's blood on his hands -than I.' He spoke sorrowfully, heavily. 'But my duty is clear, and -whether it were clear or not, I must be governed by the voice of these -captains, all of whom demand, and rightly, this double-dealing traitor's -death.' - -Emphatically the captains confirmed him in the assertion, as -emphatically Gian Giacomo repeated that he would be no party to it. - -'You are not required to be,' Carmagnola assured him. 'You may stand -aside, my lord, and allow justice to take its course.' - -'Sirs,' the Princess appealed to them, 'let me implore you again, at -least to send him to the Duke. Let the responsibility of his death lie -with his master.' - -Carmagnola rose. 'Madonna, what you ask would lead to a mutiny. -To-morrow either I send Bellarion's head to his ally in Vercelli, or the -men will be out of hand and there will be an end to this campaign. -Dismiss your doubts and your fears. His guilt is crystal clear. You need -but remember his avowed intention of raising the siege, to see in whose -interest he works.' - -Heavy-eyed and heavy-hearted she sat, tormented by doubt now that she -was face to face with decision where hitherto no single doubt had been. - -'You never asked him what alternative he proposed,' she reminded him. - -'To what end? That glib dissembler would have fooled us with fresh -falsehoods.' - -Belluno got to his feet. He had been manifesting impatience for some -moments. 'Have we leave to go, my lord? This matter is at an end.' - -Ugolino da Tenda followed his example. 'The men below are growing -noisier. It is time we pacified them with our decision.' - -'Aye, in God's name.' Carmagnola waved them away, and himself strode off -from the table towards the hearth. He stirred the logs with his boot and -sent an explosion of sparks flying up the chimney. 'Bear him word of our -decision, Belluno. Bid him prepare for death. He shall have until -daybreak to-morrow to make his soul.' - -'O God! If we should be wrong!' groaned the Princess. - -The captains clanked out, and the door closed. Slowly Carmagnola turned; -reproachfully he regarded her. - -'Have you no faith in me, Valeria? Should I do this thing if there were -any room for doubt?' - -'You may be mistaken. You have been mistaken before, remember.' - -He did not like to remember it. 'And you? Have you been mistaken all -these years? Are you mistaken on the death of your friend Count Spigno -and what followed?' - -'Ah! I was forgetting that,' she confessed. - -'Remember it. And remember what he said at that table, which may, after -all, be the truth. That Count Spigno has risen from the grave at last -for vengeance.' - -'Will you not send for this clown, at least?' cried Gian Giacomo. - -'To what purpose now? What can he add to what we know? The matter, Lord -Marquis, is finished.' - -And meanwhile Belluno was seeking Bellarion in the small chamber in -which they had confined him on the ground floor of the castle. - -With perfect composure Bellarion heard the words of doom. He did not -believe them. This sudden thing was too monstrously impossible. It was -incredible the gods should have raised him so swiftly to his pinnacle of -fame, merely to cast him down again for their amusement. They might make -sport with him, but they would hardly carry it to the lengths of -quenching his life. - -His only answer now was to proffer his pinioned wrists, and beg that the -cord might be cut. Belluno shook his head to that in silence. Bellarion -grew indignant. - -'What purpose does it serve beyond a cruelty? The window is barred; the -door is strong, and there is probably a guard beyond it. I could not -escape if I would.' - -'You'll be less likely to attempt it with bound wrists.' - -'I'll pass you my parole of honour to remain a prisoner.' - -'You are convicted of treachery, and you know as well as I do that the -parole of a convicted traitor is never taken.' - -'Go to the devil, then,' said Bellarion, which so angered Belluno that -he called in the guard, and ordered them to bind Bellarion's ankles as -well. - -So trussed that he could move only by hops, and then at the risk of -falling, they left him. He sat down on one of the two stools which with -a table made up all the furniture of that bare chill place. He wagged -his head and even smiled over the thought of Belluno's refusal to accept -his parole, or rather over the thought that in offering it he had no -notion of keeping it. - -'I'd break more than my pledged word to get out of this,' said he to -himself. 'And only an idiot would blame me.' - -He looked round the bare stone walls, and lastly at the window. He rose, -and hopped over to it. Leaning on the sill, which was at the height of -his breast, he looked out. It opened upon the inner court, he found, so -that wherever escape might lie, it lay not that way. The sill upon the -rough edge of which he leaned was of granite. He studied it awhile -attentively. - -'The fools!' he said, and hopped back to his stool, where he gave -himself up to quiet meditation until they brought him a hunch of bread -and a jug of wine. - -To the man-at-arms who acted as gaoler, he held out his pinioned wrists. -'How am I to eat and drink?' he asked. - -'You'll make shift as best you can.' - -He made shift, and by using his two hands as one contrived to eat and to -drink. After that he spent some time at the sill, patiently drawing his -wrists backwards and forwards along the edge of it, with long rests -between whiles to restore the blood which had flowed out of upheld arms. -It was wearying toil, and kept him fully engaged for some hours. - -Towards dusk he set up a shouting which at last brought the guard into -his prison. - -'You're in haste to die, my lord,' the fellow insolently mocked him. -'But quiet you. The stranglers are bidden for daybreak.' - -'And I am to perish like a dog?' Bellarion furiously asked him. With -pinioned wrists and ankles he sat there by his table. 'Am I never to -have a priest to shrive me?' - -'Oh! Ah! A priest?' The fellow went out. He went in quest of Carmagnola. -But Carmagnola was absent, marshalling his men against a threatened -attempt by Stoffel and the Swiss to rescue Bellarion. The captains were -away about the same business, and there remained only the Princess and -her brother. - -'Messer Bellarion is asking for a priest,' he told them. - -'Has none been sent to him?' cried Gian Giacomo, scandalised. - -'He'd not be sent until an hour before the stranglers.' - -Valeria shuddered, and sat numbed with horror. Gian Giacomo swore under -his breath. 'In God's name, let the poor fellow have a priest at once. -Let one be sent for from Quinto.' - -It would be an hour later when a preaching friar from the convent of -Saint Dominic was ushered into Bellarion's prison, a tall, frail man in -a long black mantle over his white habit. - -The guard placed a lantern on the table, glanced compassionately at the -prisoner, who sat there as he had earlier seen him with pinioned wrists -and ankles. But something had happened to the cords meanwhile, for no -sooner had the guard passed out and closed the door than Bellarion stood -up and his bonds fell from him like cobwebs, startling the good monk who -came to shrive him. Infinitely more startled was the good monk to find -himself suddenly seized by the throat in a pair of strong, nervous hands -whose thumbs were so pressed into his windpipe that he could neither cry -out nor breathe. He writhed in that unrelenting grip, until a fierce -whisper quieted him. - -'Be still if you would hope to live. If you undertake to make no sound, -tap your foot twice upon the ground, and I'll release you.' - -Frantically the foot was tapped. - -'But remember that at the first outcry, I shall kill you without mercy.' - -He removed his hands, and the priest almost choked himself in his sudden -greed of air. - -'Why? Why do you assault me?' he gasped. 'I come to comfort and ...' - -'I know why you come better than you do, brother. You think you bring me -the promise of eternal life. All that I require from you at present is -the promise of temporal existence. So we'll leave the shriving for -something more urgent.' - -It would be a half-hour later, when cowled as he had entered the tall, -the bowed figure of the priest emerged again from the room, bearing the -lantern. - -'I've brought the light, my son,' he said almost in a whisper. 'Your -prisoner desires to be alone in the dark with his thoughts.' - -The man-at-arms took the lantern in one hand, whilst with the other he -was driving home the bolt. Suddenly he swung the lantern to the level of -the cowl. This priest did not seem quite the same as the one who had -entered. The next moment, on his back, his throat gripped by the -vigorous man who knelt upon him, the guard knew that his suspicions had -been well-founded. Another moment and he knew nothing. For the hands -that held him had hammered his head against the stone floor until -consciousness was blotted out. - -Bellarion extinguished the lantern, pushed the unconscious man-at-arms -into the deepest shadow of that dimly lighted hall, adjusted his mantle -and cowl, and went quickly out. - -The soldiers in the courtyard saw in that cowled figure only the monk -who had gone to shrive Bellarion. The postern was opened for him, and -with a murmured '_Pax vobiscum_,' he passed out across the lesser -bridge, and gained the open. Thereafter, under cover of the night, he -went at speed, the monkish gown tucked high, for he knew not how soon -the sentinel he had stunned might recover to give the alarm. In his -haste he almost stumbled upon a strong picket, and in fleeing from that -he was within an ace of blundering into another. Thereafter he proceeded -with more caution over ground that was everywhere held by groups of -soldiers, posted by Carmagnola against any attempt on the part of the -Swiss. - -As a result it was not until an hour or so before midnight that he came -at last to Stoffel's quarters, away to the south of Vercelli, and found -there everything in ferment. He was stopped by a party of men of Uri, to -whom at once he made himself known, and even whilst they conducted him -to their captain, the news of his presence ran like fire through the -Swiss encampment. - -Stoffel, who was in full armour when Bellarion entered his tent, gasped -his questioning amazement whilst Bellarion threw off his mantle and -white woollen habit, and stood forth in his own proper person and -garments. - -'We were on the point of coming for you,' Stoffel told him. - -'A fool's errand, Werner. What could you have done against three -thousand men, who are ready and expecting you?' But he spoke with a warm -hand firmly gripping Stoffel's shoulders and a heart warmed, indeed, by -this proof of trust and loyalty. - -'Something we might have done. There was a will on our side that must be -lacking on the other.' - -'And the walls of Quinto? You'd have beaten your heads in vain against -them, even had you succeeded in reaching them. It's as lucky for you as -for me that I've saved you this trouble.' - -'And what now?' Stoffel asked him. - -'Give the order to break camp at once. We march to Mortara to rejoin the -Company of the White Dog from which I should never have separated. We'll -show Carmagnola and those Montferrine princes what Bellarion can do.' - -Meanwhile they already had some notion of it. The alarm at his escape -had spread through Quinto; and Carmagnola had been fetched from the -lines to be informed of it in detail by a half-naked priest and a -man-at-arms with a bandaged head. It had taken some time to find him. It -took more for him to resolve what should be done. At last, however, he -decided that Bellarion would have fled to Stoffel; so he assembled his -captains, and with the whole army marched on the Swiss encampment. But -he came too late. At the last the Swiss had not waited to strike their -camp, realising the danger of delay, but had departed leaving it -standing. - -Back to Quinto and the agitated Princess went Carmagnola with the news -of failure. He found her waiting alone in the armoury, huddled in a -great chair by the fire. - -'That he will have gone to his own condotta at Mortara is certain,' he -declared. 'But without knowing which road he took, how could I follow in -the dark? And to follow meant fulfilling that traitor's intention of -raising this siege.' - -He raged and swore, striding to and fro there in his wrath, bitterly -upbraiding himself for not having taken better precautions knowing with -what a trickster he had to deal, damning the priest and the sentry and -the fools in the courtyard who had allowed Bellarion to walk undetected -through their ranks. - -She watched him, and found him less admirable than hitherto in the -wildness of his ravings. Unwillingly almost her mind contrasted his -behaviour under stress with the calm she had observed in Bellarion. She -fetched a weary sigh. If only Bellarion had been true and loyal, what a -champion would he not have been. - -'Raging will not help you, Carmagnola,' she said at last, the least -asperity in her tone. - -It brought him, pained, to a halt before her. 'And whence, madonna, is -my rage? Have I lost anything? Do I strive here for personal ends? Ha! I -rage at the thought of the difficulties that will rise up for you.' - -'For me?' - -'Can you doubt what will follow? Do you think that all that we have lost -to-night is Bellarion, with perhaps his Swiss? The men at Mortara are -mostly of his own company, the Company of the Dog. A well-named company, -as God lives! And those who are not serve under captains who are loyal -to him and who, knowing nothing of his discovered treachery here, will -be beguiled by that seducer. In strength he will be our superior, with -close upon four thousand men.' - -She looked up at him in alarm. 'You are suggesting that we shall have -him coming against us!' - -'What else? Do we not know enough already of his aims? By all the -Saints! Things could not have fallen out better to give him the pretext -that he needed.' He was raging again. 'Had this sly devil contrived -these circumstances himself, he could not have improved them. By these -he can justify himself at need to the Duke. Oh, he's turned the tables -on us. Now you see why I meant to give him no chance.' - -She kept her mind to the essence of the matter. - -'Then if he comes against us, we are lost. We shall be caught between -his army and my uncle's.' - -His overweening vanity would not permit him to admit, or even to think, -so much. He laughed, confident and disdainful. - -'Have you so little faith in me, Valeria? I am no apprentice in this art -of war. And with the thought of you to spur me on, do you think that I -will suffer defeat? I'll not lay down my arms while I have life to serve -you. I will take measures to-morrow. And I will send letters to the -Duke, informing him of Bellarion's defection and begging reenforcements. -Can you doubt that they will come? Is Filippo Maria the man to let one -of his captains mutiny and go unpunished?' He laughed again full of a -confidence by which she was infected. And he looked so strong and -masterful, so handsome in the half-armour he still wore, a very god of -war. - -She held out a hand to him. 'My friend, forgive my doubt. You shall be -dishonoured by no more fears of mine.' - -He caught her hand. He drew her out of the chair, and towards him until -she brought up against his broad mailed breast. 'That is the fine brave -spirit that I love in you as I love all in you, Valeria. You are mine, -Valeria! God made us for each other.' - -'Not yet,' she said, smiling a little, her eyes downcast and veiled from -his ardent glance. - -'When then?' was his burning question. - -'When Theodore has been whipped out of Montferrat.' - -His arms tightened about her until his armour hurt her. 'It is a pledge, -Valeria?' - -'A pledge?' she echoed on a questioning, exalted note. - -'The man who does that may claim me when he wants me. I swear it.' - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -CARMAGNOLA'S DUTY - - -My Lord of Carmagnola had shut himself up in a small room on the ground -floor of the castle of Quinto to indite a letter to the High and Most -Potent Duke Filippo Maria of Milan. A heavy labour this of quill on -parchment for one who had little scholarship. It was a labour that fell -to him so rarely that he had never perceived until now the need to equip -himself with a secretary. - -The Princess and her brother newly returned from Mass on that Sunday -morning, four days after Bellarion's escape, were together in the -armoury discussing their situation, and differing a good deal in their -views, for the mental eyes of the young Marquis were not dazzled by the -effulgence of Carmagnola's male beauty, or deceived by his histrionic -attitudes. - -Into their presence, almost unheralded, were ushered two men. One of -these was small and slight and active as a monkey, the other a fellow of -great girth with a big, red, boldly humorous face, blue eyes under black -brows flanking a beak of a nose, and a sparse fringe of grey hair -straggling about a gleaming bald head. - -The sight of those two, who smirked and bowed, brought brother and -sister very suddenly to their feet. - -'Barbaresco!' she cried on a note of gladness, holding out both her -hands. 'And Casella!' - -'And,' said Barbaresco, as he rolled forward, 'near upon another five -hundred refugees from Montferrat, both Guelph and Ghibelline, whom we've -been collecting in Piedmont and Lombardy to swell the army of the great -Bellarion and settle accounts with Master Theodore.' - -They kissed her hands, and then her brother's. 'My Lord Marquis!' cried -the fire-eating Casella, his gimlet glance appraising the lad. 'You're -so well grown I should hardly have known you. We are your servants, my -lord, as madonna here can tell you. For years have we laboured for you -and suffered for you. But we touch the end of all that now, as do you. -Theodore is brought to bay at last. We are hounds to help you pull him -down.' - -At no season could their coming have been more welcome or uplifting than -in this hour of dark depression, when recruits to the cause of the young -Marquis were so urgently required. This she told them, announcing their -arrival a good omen. Servants were summoned, and despatched for wine, -and whilst the newcomers drank the hot spiced beverage provided they -learnt the true meaning of her words. - -It sobered their exultation. This defection of Bellarion and his -powerful company amounting to more than half of the entire army altered -their outlook completely. - -Barbaresco blew out his great cheeks, frowning darkly. - -'You say that Bellarion is the agent of Theodore?' he cried. - -'We have proof of it,' she sadly assured him, and told him of the -letter. His amazement deepened. 'Does it surprise you, then?' she asked. -'Surely it should be no news to you!' - -'Once it would not have been. For once I thought that I held proof of -the same; that was on the night that Spigno died at his hands. Later, -before that same night was out, I understood better why he killed -Spigno.' - -'You understood? Why he killed him?' She was white to the lips. Gian -Giacomo was leaning forward across the table, his face eager. She -uttered a fretful laugh. 'He killed him because he was my friend, mine -and my brother's, the chief of all our friends.' - -Barbaresco shook his great head. 'He killed him because this Spigno whom -we all trusted so completely was a spy of Theodore's.' - -'What?' - -Her world reeled about her; her senses battled in a mist. The thick, -droning voice of Barbaresco came to deepen her confusion. - -'It is all so simple; so very clear. The facts that Spigno was dressed -as we found him and in the attic where we had imprisoned Bellarion -should in themselves have explained everything. How came he there? -Bellarion was all but convicted of being an agent of Theodore's. But for -Spigno we should have dealt with him out of hand. Then at dead of night -Spigno went to liberate him, and by that very act convicted himself in -Bellarion's eyes. And for that Bellarion stabbed him. The only flaw is -how one agent of Theodore's should have come to be under such a -misapprehension about the other. Saving that the thing would have been -clear at once.' - -'That I can explain,' said Valeria breathlessly, 'if you have sound -proof of Spigno's guilt, if it is not all based on rash assumption.' - -'Assumption!' laughed Casella, and he took up the tale. 'That night, -when we determined upon flight, we first repaired, because of our -suspicions, to Spigno's lodging. We found there a letter addressed -superscribed to Theodore, to be delivered in the event of Spigno's death -or disappearance. Within it we found a list of our names and of the part -which each of us had had in the plot to kill the Regent, and the terms -of that letter made it more than clear that throughout Spigno had been -Theodore's agent for the destruction of the Marquis here.' - -'That letter,' said Barbaresco, 'was a safeguard the scoundrel had -prepared in the event of discovery. The threat of its despatch to -Theodore would have been used to compel us to hold our hands. Oh, a -subtle villain, your best and most loyal friend Count Spigno, and but -for Bellarion ...' He spread his hands and laughed. - -Then Casella interposed. - -'You said, madonna, that you could supply the link that's missing in our -chain.' - -But she was not listening. She sat with drooping head, her hands -listlessly folded in her lap. - -'It was all true. All true!' Her tone seemed the utterance of a broken -heart. 'And I have mistrusted him, and ... Oh, God!' she cried out. -'When I think that by now he might have been strangled and with my -consent. And now ...' - -'And now,' cut in her brother almost brutally considering the pain she -was already bearing, 'you and that swaggering fool Carmagnola have -between you driven him out and perhaps set him against us.' - -The swaggering fool came in at that moment with inky fingers and -disordered hair. The phrase that greeted him brought him to a halt on -the threshold, his attitude magnificent. - -'What's this?' he asked with immense dignity. - -He was told, by Gian Giacomo, so fiercely and unsparingly that he went -red and white by turns as he listened. Then, commanding himself and -wrapped in his dignity as in a mantle, he came slowly forward. He even -smiled, condescendingly. - -'Of all this that you tell I know nothing. It may well be as you say. It -is no concern of mine. What concerns me is what has happened here; the -discovery that Bellarion was in correspondence with Theodore, and his -avowed intention to raise this siege; add to this that he has slipped -through our hands, and is now abroad to work your ruin, and consider if -you are justified in using hard words to me but for whom your ruin would -already have been encompassed.' - -His majestic air and his display of magnanimity under their reproach -imposed upon all but Valeria. - -It was she who answered him: - -'You are forgetting that it was only my conviction that he had been -Theodore's agent aforetime which disposed me to believe him Theodore's -agent now.' - -'But the letter, then?' Carmagnola was showing signs of exasperation. - -'In God's name, where is this letter?' growled the deep voice of -Barbaresco. - -'Who are you to question me now? I do not know your right, sir, or even -your name.' - -The Princess presented him and at the same time Casella. - -'They are old and esteemed friends, my lord, and they are here to serve -me with all the men that they can muster. Let Messer Barbaresco see this -letter.' - -Impatiently Carmagnola produced it from the scrip that hung beside his -dagger from a gold-embossed girdle of crimson leather. - -Slowly Barbaresco spelled it out, Casella reading over his shoulder. -When he had done, he looked at Carmagnola, and from Carmagnola to the -others, first in sheer amazement, then in scornful mirth. - -'Lord of Heaven, Messer Carmagnola! You've the repute of a great -fighter, and, to be sure, you're a fine figure of a man; also I must -assume you honest. But I would sooner put my trust in your animal -strength than in your wits.' - -'Sir!' - -'Oh, aye, to be sure, you can throw out your chest and roar and strut. -But use your brains for once, man.' The boldly humorous red face was -overspread by a sardonic grin. 'Master Theodore took your measure -shrewdly when he thought to impose upon you with this foxy piece of -buffoonery, and, my faith, if Bellarion had been less nimble, this trick -would have served its purpose. Nay, now don't puff and blow and swell! -Read the letter again. Ask yourself if it would have borne that full -signature and that superscription if it had been sincere, and -considering that it imparts no useful information save that Bellarion -was betraying you, ask yourself if it would have been written at all had -anything it says been true.' - -'The very arguments that Bellarion used,' cried the Marquis. - -'To which we would not listen,' said the Princess bitterly. - -Carmagnola sniffed. 'They are the arguments any man in his case would -use. You overlook that the letter is an incentive, an undertaking to -reward him suitably if he ...' - -Barbaresco broke in, exasperated by the man's grandiose stupidity. - -'To the devil with that, numskull!' - -'Numskull, sir? To me? By Heaven ...' - -'Sirs, sirs!' The Princess laid her hand on Barbaresco's great arm. -'This is not seemly to my Lord Carmagnola ...' - -'I know it. I know it. I crave his pardon. But I was never taught to -suffer fools gladly. I ...' - -'Sir, your every word is an offence. You ...' - -Valeria calmed them. 'Don't you see, Messer Carmagnola, that he but uses -you as a whipping-boy instead of me. It is I who am the fool, the -numskull in his eyes; for these deeds are more mine than any other's. -But my old friend Barbaresco is too courteous to say so.' - -'Courteous?' snorted Carmagnola. 'That is the last term I should apply -to his boorishness. By what right does he come hectoring here?' - -'By the right of his old affection for me and my brother. That is what -makes him hot. For my sake, then, bear with him, sir.' - -The great man bowed, his hand upon his heart, signifying that for her -sake there was no indignity he would not suffer. - -Thereafter he defended himself with great dignity. If the letter had -been all, he might have taken Barbaresco's views. But it was, he -repeated, the traitor Bellarion's avowed intention to raise the siege. -That, in itself, was a proof of his double-dealing. - -'How did this letter come to you?' Barbaresco asked. - -Gian Giacomo answered whilst Valeria added in bitter self-reproach, 'And -this messenger was never examined, although Bellarion demanded that he -should be brought before us.' - -'Do you upbraid me with that, madonna?' Carmagnola cried. 'He was a poor -clown, who could have told us nothing. He was not examined because it -would have been waste of time.' - -'Let us waste it now,' said Barbaresco. - -'To what purpose, sir?' - -'Why, to beguile our leisure. No other entertainment offers.' - -Carmagnola contained himself under that sardonic leer. - -'Sir, you are resolved, it seems, to try my patience. It requires all my -regard and devotion for her highness to teach me to endure it. The -messenger shall be brought.' - -At Valeria's request not only the messenger, but the captains who had -voted Bellarion's death were also summoned. Carmagnola demurred at -first, but bowed in the end to her stern insistence. - -They came, and when they were all assembled, they were told by the -Princess why they had been summoned as well as what she had that morning -learnt from Barbaresco. Then the messenger was brought in between the -guards, and it was the Princess herself who questioned him. - -'You have nothing to fear, boy,' she assured him gently, as he cowered -in terror before her. 'You are required to answer truthfully. When you -have done so, and unless I discover that you are lying, you shall be -restored to liberty.' - -Carmagnola, who had come to take his stand at her side, bent over her. - -'Is that prudent, madonna?' - -'Prudent or not, it is promised.' There was in her tone an asperity that -dismayed him. She addressed herself to the clown. - -'When you were given this letter you would be given precise instructions -for its delivery, were you not?' - -'Yes, magnificent madonna.' - -'What were those instructions?' - -'I was taken to the ramparts by a knight, to join some other knights and -soldiers. They pointed to the lines straight ahead. I was to go in that -direction with the letter. If taken I was to ask for the Lord -Bellarion.' - -'Were you bidden to go cautiously? To conceal yourself?' - -'No, madonna. On the contrary. My orders were to let myself be seen. I -am answering truthfully, madonna.' - -'When you were told to go straight ahead into the lines that were -pointed out to you, on which side of the ramparts were you standing?' - -'On the south side, madonna. By the southern gate. That is truth, as God -hears me.' - -The Princess leaned forward, and she was not the only one to move. - -'Were you told or did you know what soldiers occupied the section of the -lines to which you were bidden?' - -'I just knew that they were soldiers of the besieging army, or the Lord -Bellarion's army. I am telling you the truth, madonna. I was told to be -careful to go straight, and not to wander into any other part of the -line but that.' - -Ugolino da Tenda made a sharp forward movement. 'What are you saying?' - -'The truth! The truth!' cried the lad in terror. 'May God strike me dumb -forever if I have uttered a lie.' - -'Quiet! Quiet!' the Princess admonished him. 'Be sure we know when you -speak the truth. Keep to it and fear nothing. Did you hear mention of -any name in connection with that section of the line?' - -'Did I?' He searched his mind, and his eyes brightened. 'Aye, aye, I -did. They spoke amongst them. They named one Calmaldola, or ... -Carmandola ...' - -'Or Carmagnola,' da Tenda cut in, and laughed splutteringly in sheer -contempt. 'It's clear, I think, that Theodore's letter was intended for -just the purpose that it's served.' - -'Clear? How is it clear?' Carmagnola's contempt was in the question. - -'In everything, now that we have heard this clown. Why was he sent to -the southern section? Do you suppose Theodore did not know that -Valsassina himself and those directly under him, of whom I was one, were -quartered in Quinto, on the western side?' Then his voice swelled up in -anger. 'Why was this messenger not examined sooner, or ...' he checked -and his eyes narrowed as they fixed themselves on Carmagnola's flushed -and angry face '... or, was he?' - -'Was he?' roared Carmagnola. 'Now what the devil do you mean?' - -'You know what I mean, Carmagnola. You led us all within an ace of doing -murder. Did you lead us so because you're a fool, or a villain? Which?' - -Carmagnola sprang for him, roaring like a bull. The other captains got -between, and the Princess on her feet, commanding, imperious, added her -voice sharply to theirs to restore order. They obeyed that slim, frail -woman, scarcely more than a girl, as she stood there straight and tense -in her wine-coloured mantle, her red-gold head so proudly held, her dark -eyes burning in her white face. - -'Captain Ugolino, that was ill said of you,' she reproved him. 'You -forget that if this messenger was not examined before, the blame for -that is upon all of us. We took too much for granted and too readily -against the Prince of Valsassina.' - -'It is now that you take too much for granted,' answered Carmagnola. -'Why did Valsassina intend to raise this siege if he is honest? Answer -me that!' - -His challenge was to all. Ugolino da Tenda answered it. - -'For some such reason as he had when he sent his men to hold the bridge -at Carpignano while you were building bridges here. Bellarion's -intentions are not clear to dull eyes like yours and mine, Carmagnola.' - -Carmagnola considered him malevolently. 'You and I will discuss this -matter further elsewhere,' he promised him. 'You have used expressions I -am not the man to forget.' - -'It may be good for you to remember them,' said the young captain, no -whit intimidated. 'Meanwhile, madonna, I take my leave. I march my -condotta out of this camp within an hour.' - -She looked at him in sudden distress. He answered the look. - -'I am grieved, madonna. But my duty is to the Prince of Valsassina. I -was seduced from it by too hasty judgment. I return to it at once.' He -bowed low, gathered up his cloak, and went clanking out. - -'Hold there!' Carmagnola thundered after him. 'Before you go I've an -account to settle with you.' - -Ugolino turned on the threshold, drawn up to his full height. - -'I'll afford you the opportunity,' said he, 'but only after I have the -answer to my question, whether you are a villain or a fool, and only if -I find that you're a fool.' - -The captains made a barrier which Carmagnola could not pass. Livid with -anger and humiliation, his grand manner dissipated, he turned to the -Princess. - -'Will your highness suffer me to go after him? He must not be permitted -to depart.' - -But she shook her red-gold head. 'Nay, sir. I detain no man here against -his inclinations. And Captain Ugolino seems justified of his.' - -'Justified! Dear God! Justified!' He apostrophised the groined ceiling, -then swung to the other four captains standing there. 'And you?' he -demanded. 'Do you also deem yourselves justified to mutiny?' - -Belluno was prompt to answer. But then Belluno was his own lieutenant. -'My lord, if there has been an error we are all in it, and have the -honesty to admit it.' - -'I am glad there is still some honesty among you. And you?' His angry -eyes swept over the others. One by one they answered as Belluno had -done. But they were men of little account, and the defection of the four -of them would not have reduced the army as did Ugolino's, whose condotta -amounted to close upon a thousand men. - -'We are forgetting this poor clown,' said the Princess. - -Carmagnola looked at him as if he would with joy have wrung his neck. - -'You may go, boy,' she told him. 'You are free. See that he leaves -unhindered.' - -He went with his guards. The captains, dismissed, went out next. - -Carmagnola, his spirit badly bruised and battered, looked at the -Princess, who had sunk back into her chair. - -'However it has been achieved,' she said, 'Theodore's ends could not -better have been served. What is left us now?' - -'If I might venture to advise ...' quoth Barbaresco, smooth as oil, 'I -should say that you could not do better than follow Ugolino da Tenda's -example.' - -'What?' - -'Return to your fealty to Bellarion.' - -'Return?' Carmagnola leaned towards him from his fine height, and his -mouth gaped. 'Return?' he repeated. 'And leave Vercelli?' - -'Why not? That would no more than fulfil Bellarion's intention to raise -the siege. He will have an alternative.' - -'I care nothing for his alternatives, and let us be clear upon this: I -owe him no fealty. My fealty was sworn not to him, but to the Duchess -Beatrice. And my orders from Duke Filippo Maria are to assist in the -reduction of Vercelli. I know where my duly lies.' - -'It is possible,' said the Princess slowly, 'that Bellarion had some -other plan for bringing Theodore to his knees.' - -He stared at her. There was pain in his handsome eyes. His face was -momentarily almost convulsed. And there was little more than pain in his -voice when he spoke. - -'Oh, madonna! Into what irreparable error is your generous heart -misleading you? How can you have come in a breath to place all your -trust in this man whom for years you have known, as many know him, for a -scheming villain?' - -'Could I do less having discovered the cruelty of my error?' - -'Are you sure--can you be sure upon such slight grounds--that you were -in error? That you are not in error now? You heard what Belluno said of -him on the night my bridges were destroyed--that Bellarion never looks -where he aims.' - -'That, sir, is what has misled me, to my present shame.' - -'Is it not rather what is misleading you now?' - -'You heard what Messer Barbaresco had to tell me.' - -'I do not need to hear Messer Barbaresco or any other. I know what I can -see for myself, what my wits tell me.' - -She looked at him almost slyly, for one normally so wide-eyed, and her -answer all considered was a little cruel. - -'Are you still unshaken in your confidence in your wits? Do you still -think that you can trust them?' - -That was the death-blow to his passion for her, as it was the death-blow -of the high hopes he is suspected of having centred in her, seeing -himself, perhaps, as the husband of the Princess Valeria of Montferrat, -supreme in Montferrine court and camp. It was a sword-thrust full into -his vanity, which was the vital part of him. - -He stepped back, white to the very lips, his countenance disordered. -Then, commanding himself, he bowed, and steadied his voice to answer. - -'Madonna, I see that you have made your choice. My prayer will be that -you may not have occasion to repent it. No doubt the troops accompanying -these gentlemen of Montferrat will be your sufficient escort to Mortara, -or you may join forces with Ugolino da Tenda's condotta. Although I -shall be left with not more than half the men the enterprise demands, -with these I must make shift to reduce Vercelli, as my duty is. Thus, -madonna, you may yet owe your deliverance to me. May God be with you!' -He bowed again. - -Perhaps he hoped still for some word to arrest him, some retraction of -the injustice with which she used him. But it did not come. - -'I thank you for your good intentions, my lord,' she said civilly. 'God -be with you, too.' - -He bit his lip, then turned, and threw high that handsome golden head -which he was destined to leave, some few years later, between the -pillars of the Piazzetta in Venice. Thus he stalked out. All considered, -it was an orderly retreat; and that was the last she ever saw of him. - -As the door banged, Barbaresco smacked his great thigh with his open -palm and exploded into laughter. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -THE OCCUPATION OF CASALE - - -When Bellarion proclaimed his intention of raising the siege of -Vercelli, he had it in mind, in view of the hopelessness of being able -to reduce the place reasonably soon, to draw Theodore into the open by -means of that strategic movement which Thucydides had taught him, and to -which he had so often already and so successfully had recourse. - -His Swiss, being without baggage, travelled lightly and swiftly. They -left their camp before Vercelli on the night of Wednesday, and on the -evening of the following Friday, Bellarion brought them into the village -of Pavone, where Koenigshofen had established himself in Facino's old -quarters of three years ago. There they lay for the night. But whilst -his weary followers rested, himself he spent the greater part of the -night in the necessary dispositions for striking camp at dawn. And very -early on that misty November morning he was off again with Giasone -Trotta, Koenigshofen, and all the horse, leaving Stoffel to follow more -at leisure with the foot, the baggage, and the artillery. - -Before nightfall he was at San Salvatore, where his army rested, and on -the following Sunday morning at just about the time that Barbaresco was -reaching Vercelli, Bellarion, Prince of Valsassina, was approaching the -Lombard Gate into Casale, by the road along which he had fled thence -years before, a nameless outcast waif whose only ambition was the study -of Greek at Pavia. - -He had travelled by many roads since then, and after long delays he had -reached Pavia, no longer as a poor nameless scholar, but as a -condottiero of renown, not to solicit at the University the alms of a -little learning, but to command whatever he might crave of the place, -holding even its Prince in subjection. Greek he had not learnt; but he -had learnt much else instead, though nothing that made him love his -fellow man or hold the world in high regard. Therefore, he was glad to -think that here he touched the end of that long journey begun five years -ago along this Lombard Road; the mission upon which he had set out -blindly that day was, after many odd turns of Fortune, all but -accomplished. When it was done, he would strip off this soldier's -harness, abdicate his princely honours, and return on foot--humbler than -when he had set out, and cured of his erstwhile heresy--to the benign -and peaceful shelter of the convent at Cigliano. - -There was no attempt to bar his entrance into the Montferrine capital. -The officer commanding the place knew himself without the necessary -means to oppose this force which so unexpectedly came to demand -admittance. And so, the people of Casale, issuing from Mass on -that Sunday morning, found the great square before Liutprand's -Cathedral and the main streets leading from it blocked by outlandish -men-at-arms--Italians, Gascons, Burgundians, Swabians, Saxons, and -Swiss--whose leader proclaimed himself Captain-General of the army of -the Marquis Gian Giacomo of Montferrat. - -It was a proclamation that not at all reassured them of their dread at -the presence of a rapacious and violent soldiery. - -The Council of Ancients, summoned by Bellarion's heralds, assembled in -the Communal Palace, to hear the terms of this brigand captain--as they -conceived him--who had swooped upon their defenceless city. - -He came attended by a group of officers. He was tall and soldierly of -bearing, in full armour, save for his helm, which was borne after him by -a page, and his escort, from the brawny, bearded Koenigshofen to the -fierce-eyed, ferrety Giasone, was calculated to inspire dread in -peaceful citizens. But his manner was gentle, and his words were fair. - -'Sirs, your city of Casale has nothing to fear from this occupation, for -it is not upon its citizens that we make war, and so that they give no -provocation, they will find my followers orderly. We invite your -alliance with ourselves in the cause of right and justice. But if you -withhold this alliance we shall not visit it against you, provided that -you do not go the length of actively opposing us. - -'The High and Mighty Lord Filippo Maria Visconti, Duke of Milan, weary -of the encroachments upon his dominions resulting from the turbulent -ambition of your Prince-Regent, the Marquis Theodore, has resolved to -make an end of a regency which in itself has already become an -usurpation, and to place in the authority to which his majority entitles -him your rightful Prince, the Marquis Gian Giacomo Paleologo. I invite -you, sirs, to perform your duty as representatives of the people by -swearing upon my hands fealty to that same Marquis Gian Giacomo in the -cathedral at the hour of vespers this evening.' - -That invitation was a command, and it was punctually obeyed by men who -had not the strength to resist. Meanwhile a measure of reassurance had -been afforded the city by Bellarion's proclamation enjoining order upon -his troops. The proclamation was in no equivocal terms. It reminded the -men that they were in occupation of a friendly city which they were sent -to guard and defend, and that any act of pillage or violence would be -punished by death. They were housed, some in the citadel, and the -remainder in the fortress-palace of the Montferrine princes, where -Bellarion himself took up his quarters. - -In Theodore's own closet, occupying the very chair in which Theodore had -sat and so contemptuously received the unknown Bellarion on that day -when the young student had first entered those august walls, Bellarion -that night penned a letter to the Princess Valeria, wherein he gave her -news of the day's events. That letter, of a calligraphy so perfect that -it might be mistaken for a page from some monkish manuscript of those -days, is one of the few fragments that have survived from the hand of -this remarkable man who was adventurer, statesman, soldier, and -humanist. - -'Most honoured and most dear lady,' he addresses her--'Riveritissima et -Carissima Madonna.' The exordium is all that need concern us now. - -Ever since at your own invitation I entered your service that evening in -your garden here at Casale, where to-day I have again wandered reviving -memories that are of the fairest in my life, that service has been my -constant study. I have pursued it, by tortuous ways and by many actions -appearing to have no bearing upon it, unsuspected by you when not -actually mistrusted by you. That your mistrust has wounded me oftentimes -and deeply, would have weighed lightly with me had I not perceived that -by mistrusting you were deprived of that consolation and hope which you -would have found in trusting. The facts afforded ever a justification of -your mistrust. This I recognized; and that facts are stubborn things, -not easily destroyed by words. Therefore I did not vainly wear myself in -any endeavour to destroy them, but toiled on, so that, in the ultimate -achievement of your selfless aims for your brother, the Marquis, I might -prove to you without the need of words the true impulse of my every -action in these past five years. The fame that came to me as a -condottiero, the honours I won, and the increase of power they brought -me I have never regarded as anything but weapons to be employed in this -your service, as means to the achievement of your ends. But for that -service accepted in this garden, my life would have been vastly -different from all that it has been. No burden heavier than a scholar's -would have been mine, and to-day I might well be back with the brethren -at Cigliano, an obscure member of their great brotherhood. To serve you, -I have employed trickery and double-dealing until men have dubbed me a -rogue, and some besides yourself have come to mistrust me, and once I -went the length of doing murder. But I take no shame in any of these -things, nor, most dear lady, need you take shame in that your service -should have entailed them. The murder I did was the execution of a -rogue; the conspiracy I scattered was one that would have made a net in -which to take you; the deceits I have put upon the Marquis Theodore, -chiefly when I made him serve my dear Lord Facino's turn and seduced him -into occupying Vercelli, so as subsequently to afford the Duke of Milan -a sound reason for moving against him, were deceits employed against a -deceiver, whom it would be idle to combat in honest fashion. In his eyes -more than any other's--for he is not the only victim of the duplicity I -have used to place you ultimately where you should be--I am a -double-dealing Judas. And it is said of me, too, that in the field as in -the council, I prevail by subterfuge and never by straightforward blows. -But my conscience remains tranquil. It is not what a man does or says -that counts; but what a man intends. I have embraced as a part of my -guiding philosophy that teaching of Plato's which discriminates between -the lie on the lips and the lie in the heart. On my lips and in my -actions lies have been employed. I confess it frankly. But in my heart -no lie has ever been. If I have employed at times dishonest means, at -least the purpose for which they have been employed has been -unfalteringly, unswervingly honest, and one in the final achievement of -which there can be only pride and a sense of duty done. - -To this if you believe it--and the facts will presently constrain you to -do so, unless my fortune in the field should presently desert me--I need -add no details of the many steps in your service. By the light of faith -in me from what is written and what is presently to do, you will now -read aright those details for yourself. - -We touch now the goal whither all these efforts have been addressed. - - -Upon this follows his concise account of the events from the moment of -his escape from Quinto, and upon that an injunction to her to come at -once with her brother to Casale, depending upon the protection of his -arm and the loyalty of a people which only awaits the sight of its -rightful Prince to be increased to enthusiasm and active support. - -That letter was despatched next day to Quinto, but it did not reach her -until almost a week later between Alessandria and Casale. - -Meanwhile early on the morrow the city was thrown into alarm by the -approach of a strong body of horse. This was Ugolino da Tenda's -condotta, and Ugolino himself rode in with a trumpeter to make renewed -submission to the Lord Bellarion, and to give him news of what had -happened in Quinto upon the coming of Barbaresco. - -Bellarion racked him with questions, as to what was said, particularly -as to what the Princess said and how she looked, and what passed between -her and Carmagnola. And when all was done, far from the stern reproaches -Ugolino had been expecting he found himself embraced by a Bellarion more -joyous than he had ever yet known that sardonic soldier. - -That gaiety of Bellarion's was observed by all in the days that -followed. He was a man transformed. He displayed the light-heartedness -of a boy, and moved about the many tasks claiming his attention with a -song on his lips, a ready laugh upon the slightest occasion, and a -sparkle in his great eyes that all had hitherto known so sombre. - -And this notwithstanding that these were busy and even anxious days of -preparation for the final trial of strength. He rode abroad during the -day with two or three of his officers, one of whom was always Stoffel, -surveying the ground of the peninsula that lies between Sesia and Po to -the north of Casale, and at night he would labour over maps which he was -preparing from his daily notes. Meanwhile he kept himself day by day -informed, by means of a line of scouts which he had thrown out, of what -was happening at Vercelli. - -With that clear prescience, which in all ages has been the gift of all -great soldiers, he was able not merely to opine but quite definitely to -state the course of action that Theodore would pursue. Because of this, -on the Wednesday of that week, he moved Ugolino da Tenda and his -condotta out of Casale, and transferred them bag and baggage--by night -so that the movement might not be detected and reported to the enemy--to -the woods about Trino, where they were ordered to encamp and to lie -close until required. - -On the morning of Friday arrived at last in Casale the Marquis Gian -Giacomo and his sister, escorted by the band of Montferrine exiles under -Barbaresco and Casella, and the people turned out to welcome not only -the Princes, but in many cases their own relatives and friends. -Bellarion, with his captains and a guard of honour of fifty lances, -received the Princes at the Lombard Gate, and escorted them to the -palace where their apartments had been prepared. - -The acclamations of the people lining the streets brought tears to the -eyes of the Princess and a flush to the cheeks of her brother, and there -were tears in her eyes when she sought Bellarion in his room to abase -herself in the admission of her grievous misjudgment and to sue pardon -for it. - -'Your letter, sir,' she told him, 'touched me more deeply than anything -I can remember in all my life. Think me a fool if you must for what is -past, but not an ingrate. My brother shall prove our gratitude so soon -as ever it lies within his power.' - -'Madonna, I ask no proofs of it, nor need them. To serve you has not -been a means, but an end, as you shall see.' - -'That vision at least does not lie in the future. I see now, and very -clearly.' - -He smiled, a little wistfully, as he bowed to kiss her hand. - -'You shall see more clearly still,' he promised her. - -That colloquy went no further. Stoffel broke in upon them to announce -that his scouts had come galloping in from Vercelli with the news that -the Lord Theodore had made a sally in force, shattering a way through -Carmagnola's besiegers, and that he was advancing on Casale with a -well-equipped army computed to be between four and five thousand strong. - -The news had already spread about the city, and was causing amongst the -people the gravest apprehension and unrest. The prospect of a siege and -of the subsequent vengeance of the Lord Theodore upon the city for -having harboured his enemies filled them with dread. - -'Send out trumpeters,' Bellarion ordered, 'and let it be proclaimed in -every quarter that there will be no siege, and that the army is marching -out at once to meet the Marquis Theodore beyond the Po.' - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -THE VANQUISHED - - -Theodore's sally from Vercelli had been made at daybreak on that Friday -morning. It had been shrewdly planned, for Theodore was no bungler, and, -before he had brought more than half his men into action, Carmagnola, -startled by the suddenness of the blow that fell upon him, was routed -and in flight. - -After that, this being no more than the preliminary of the task before -him, Theodore marched out every man of his following to go against -Bellarion at Casale. Thus, by that ancient plan of attacking a vital -point that had been left undefended, had Bellarion succeeded in drawing -his enemy from a point of less importance in which he was almost -impregnably entrenched. Theodore had perceived, as Bellarion had -calculated that he would, that it could serve little purpose for him to -hold an outpost like Vercelli if in the meantime the whole of his -dominions were to be wrenched from his grasp. - -No sooner was he gone, however, than Carmagnola, informed of his -departure, rallied his broken troops, and with drums beating, trumpets -blaring, and flags flying, marched like a conqueror into the now -undefended city of Vercelli. For the resistance it had made, he -subjected it to a cruel sack, giving his men unbounded licence, and that -same evening he wrote to Duke Filippo Maria in the following terms: - - -MOST POTENT DUKE AND MY GOOD LORD,--It is my joyous task to give your -highness tidings that, informed of the reduction in our numbers -resulting from the defection of the Prince of Valsassina and several -other captains acting in concert with him, the Lord Theodore of -Montferrat, greatly presumptuous, did to-day issue from Vercelli for -wager of battle against us. A vigorous action was fought in the -neighbourhood of Quinto, in which despite our inferior numbers we put -the Marquis to flight. Lacking numbers sufficient to engage in pursuit, -particularly as this would have led us into Montferrine territory, and -since the reoccupation of Vercelli and its restoration to your duchy was -the task with which your highness entrusted us, I marched into the city -at once, and I now hold it in the name of your exalted potency. By this -complete and speedy victory I hope to merit the approbation of your -highness. - - -Meanwhile Theodore's march on Casale had anything but the aspect of a -flight. The great siege train he dragged along with him over the sodden -and too-yielding ground of that moist plain delayed his progress to such -an extent that it was not until late on that November afternoon when he -reached Villanova, here to receive news from his scouts that a -considerable army, said to be commanded by the Prince of Valsassina, was -circling northward from Terranova. - -The news was unexpected and brought with it some alarm. He had gone -confidently and rather carelessly forward fully expecting to find the -enemy shut up in Casale. Hence all the ponderous siege train which had -so hampered his progress. That Bellarion, forsaking the advantage of -Casale's stout walls, should come out to meet him and engage him in the -open was something beyond his dreams, and but for the unexpectedness of -it, he would have rejoiced in such a decision on the part of his -redoubtable opponent. - -It was in that unexpectedness, as usual, that lay Bellarion's advantage. -Theodore, compelled now to act in haste, not knowing at what moment the -enemy might be upon him, made dispositions to which it was impossible to -give that thought which the importance of the issues demanded. The first -of these was to order the men, who were preparing to encamp for the -night, to be up again and to push on and out of this village before they -found themselves hemmed into it. That circling movement reported -suggested this danger to Theodore. - -They came out in rather straggling order to be marshalled even as they -marched. Theodore's aim, and it was shrewd enough, was to reach the -broad causeway of solid land between Corno and Popolo, where marshlands -on either side would secure his flanks and compel the enemy to engage -him on a narrow front. What was to follow he had not yet had time to -consider. But if he could reach that objective, he would be secure for -the present, and he could rest his men in the two hamlets on the -marshes. - -But a mile beyond Villanova, Bellarion was upon his left flank and rear. -He had little warning of it before the enemy was charging him. But it -was warning enough. He threw out his line in a crescent formation, using -his infantry in a manner which merited Bellarion's entire approval, and -obviously intent upon fighting a rearguard battle whilst bringing his -army to the coveted position. - -But the infantry were not equal to their commander, and they were -insufficiently trained in these tactics. Some horses were piked, but -almost every horse piked meant an opening in the human wall that opposed -the charge, and through these openings Giasone Trotta's heavy riders -broke in, swinging their ponderous maces. From a rearguard action on -Theodore's part, the thing grew rapidly to the proportions of a general -engagement, and for this Theodore could not have been placed worse than -he was with his left, now that he had swung about, upon the quaking -boglands of Dalmazzo and his back to the broad waters of the Po. He -swung his troops farther round, so as to bring his rear upon the only -possible line of retreat, which was that broad firm land between Corno -and Populo. At last his skilful manœuvres achieved the desired result, -and then, very gradually, fighting every inch of the ground, he began to -fall back. At every yard now the front must grow narrower, and unless -Bellarion's captains were very sure of their ground, some of them would -presently be in trouble in the bogs on either side. If this did not -happen, they would soon find it impossible, save at great cost and -without perceptible progress, to continue the engagement, and with night -approaching they would be constrained to draw off. Theodore smiled -darkly to himself in satisfaction, and took heart, well pleased with his -clever tactics by which he had extricated himself from a dangerous -situation. He had won a breathing-space that should enable him to -marshal his men so as to deal with this rash enemy who came to seek him -in the open. - -And then suddenly, a quarter-mile away, from the direction of Corno, -towards which they were so steadily falling back, came a pounding of -hooves that swelled swiftly into a noise of thunder, and, before any -measures could be taken to meet this new menace, Ugolino da Tenda's -horse was upon Theodore's rear. - -Ugolino had handled his condotta well, and strictly in accordance with -his orders from Bellarion. From Balzola, whither he had been moved at -noon so as to be in readiness, he had made a leisurely and cautious -advance, filing his horse along the very edge of the bogland so that -their hooves should give no warning of their approach. Thus until he had -won within striking distance. And the blow he now struck, heavy and -unexpected, crumpled up Theodore's rear, clove through, driving his men -right and left to sink to their waists in the marshes, and scattered -such fear and confusion in those ahead that their formation went to -pieces, and gaped to Bellarion's renewed frontal attacks. - -Less than three hours that engagement lasted, and of all those who had -taken the field with Theodore, saving perhaps a thousand who fled -helter-skelter towards Trino after Ugolmo's passage, there was not a -survivor who had not yielded. Stripped of their arms and deprived of -their horses, they were turned adrift, to go whithersoever they listed -so long as it was outside of Montferrat territory. The maimed and -wounded of Theodore's army were conveyed by their fellows into the -villages of Villanova, Terranova, and Grassi. - -It was towards the third hour of that November night when the triumphant -army, returning from that stricken field, reëntered Casale, lighted by -the bonfires that blazed in the streets, whilst the bells of Liutprand's -Cathedral crashed out their peals of victory. Deliriously did the -populace acclaim Bellarion, Prince of Valsassina, in its enormous relief -at being saved the hardships of a siege and delivered from the possible -vengeance of Theodore for having opened its gates to Theodore's enemies. - -Theodore, on foot, marched proudly at the head of a little band of -captives of rank, who had been retained by their captors for the sake of -the ransoms they could pay. The jostling, pushing crowd hooted and -execrated and mocked him in his hour of humiliation. White-faced, his -head held high, he passed on apparently unmoved by that expression of -human baseness, knowing in his heart that, if he had proved master, the -acclamations now raised for his conqueror would have been raised for him -by the very lips that now execrated him. - -He was conducted to the palace, to the very room whence for so many -years he had ruled the State of Montferrat, and there he found his -nephew and niece awaiting him when he was brought in between Ugolino da -Tenda and Giasone Trotta. - -Bareheaded, stripped of his armour, his tall figure bowed, he stood like -a criminal before them whilst they remained seated on either side of the -writing-table that once had been his own. From the seat whence he had -dispensed justice was justice now to be dispensed to him by his nephew. - -'You know your offence, my lord,' Gian Giacomo greeted him, a cold, -dignified, and virile Gian Giacomo, in whom it was hardly possible to -recognise the boy whom he had sought to ruin in body and in soul. 'You -know how you have been false to the trust reposed in you by my father, -to whom God give peace. Have you anything to say in extenuation?' - -He parted his lips, then stood there opening and closing his hands -before he could sufficiently control himself to answer. - -'In the hour of defeat, what can I do but cast myself upon your mercy?' - -'Are we to pity you in defeat? Are we to forget in what you have been -defeated?' - -'I ask not that. I am in your hands, a captive, helpless. I do not claim -mercy. I may not deserve it. I hope for it. That is all.' - -They considered him, and found him a broken man, indeed. - -'It is not for me to judge you,' said Gian Giacomo, 'and I am glad to be -relieved of that responsibility. For though you may have forgotten that -I am of your blood, I cannot forget that you are of mine. Where is his -highness of Valsassina?' - -Theodore fell back a pace. 'Will you set me at the mercy of that -dastard?' - -The Princess Valeria looked at him coldly. 'He has won many titles since -the day when to fight a villainy he pretended to become your spy. But -the title you have just conferred upon him, coming from your lips, is -the highest he has yet received. To be a dastard in the sight of a -dastard is to be honourable in the sight of all upright men.' - -Theodore's white face writhed into a smile of malice. But he answered -nothing in the little pause that followed before the door opened upon -Bellarion. - -He came in supported by two of his Swiss, and closely followed by -Stoffel. His armour had been removed, and the right sleeve of his -leather haqueton, as of the silken tunic and shirt beneath, had been -ripped up, and now hung empty at his side, whilst his breast bulged -where his arm was strapped to his body. He was very pale and obviously -weak and in pain. - -Valeria came to her feet at sight of him thus, and her face was whiter -than his own. - -'You are wounded, my lord!' - -He smiled, rather whimsically. 'It sometimes happens when men go to -battle. But I think my Lord Theodore here has taken the deeper hurt.' - -Stoffel pushed forward a chair, and the Swiss carefully lowered -Bellarion to it. He sighed in relief, and leaned forward so as to avoid -contact with the back. - -'One of your knights, my lord, broke my shoulder in the last charge.' - -'I would he had broken your neck.' - -'That was the intention.' Bellarion's pale lips smiled. 'But I am known -as Bellarion the Fortunate.' - -'Just now my lord had another name for you,' said Valeria, and -Bellarion, observing the set of her lips and the scorn in her glance as -it flickered over Theodore, marvelled at the power of hate in one -naturally so gracious. He had had a taste of it, himself, he remembered, -and perhaps she was but passing on to Theodore what rightly had belonged -to him throughout. 'He is a rash man,' she continued, 'who will not -trouble to conciliate the arbiter of his fate. My Lord Theodore has lost -his guile, I think, together with the rest.' - -'Aye,' said Bellarion, 'we have stripped him of all save his life. Even -his mask of benignity is gone.' - -'You are noble!' said Theodore. 'You gird at a captive! Am I to remain -here to be mocked?' - -'Not for me, faith,' Bellarion answered him. 'I have never contemplated -you with any pleasure. Take him away, Ugolino. Place him securely under -guard. He shall have judgment to-morrow.' - -'Dog!' said Theodore with venom, as he drew himself up to depart. - -'That's my device, as yours is the stag. Appropriate, all things -considered. I had you in my mind when I adopted it.' - -'I am punished for my weakness,' said Theodore. 'I should have left -Justice to wring your neck when you were its prisoner here in Casale.' - -'I'll repay the debt,' Bellarion answered him. 'Your own neck shall -remain unwrung so that you withdraw to your principality of Genoa and -abide there. More of that to-morrow.' - -Peremptorily he waved him away and Ugolino hustled him out. As the door -closed again, Bellarion, relaxing the reins of his will, sank forward in -a swoon. - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -THE LAST FIGHT - - -When he recovered, he was lying on his sound side on a couch under the -window, across which the curtains of painted and gilded leather had been -drawn. - -An elderly, bearded man in black was observing him, and some one whom he -could not see was bathing his brow with a cool aromatic liquid. As he -fetched a sigh that filled his lungs and quickened his senses into full -consciousness, the man smiled. - -'There! It will be well with him now. But he should be put to bed.' - -'It shall be done,' said the woman who was bathing his brow, and her -voice, soft and subdued, was the voice of the Princess Valeria. 'His -servants will be below by now. Send them to me as you go.' - -The man bowed and went out. Slowly Bellarion turned his head, and looked -up in wonder at the Princess with whom he was now alone. Her eyes, more -liquid than their wont, smiled wistfully down upon him. - -'Madonna!' he exclaimed. 'Do you serve me as a handmaid? That is -not ...' - -'You are thinking it an insufficient return for your service to me. But -you must give me time, sir, this is only a beginning.' - -'I am not thinking that at all.' - -'Then you are not thinking as you should. You are weak. Your wits work -slowly. Else you might remember that for five years, in which you have -been my loyal, noble, unswerving friend, I, immured in my stupidity, -have been your enemy.' - -'Ah!' he smiled. I knew I should convince you in the end. Such knowledge -gives us patience. A man may contain his soul for anything that is -assured. It is the doubtful only that makes him fret and fume.' - -'And you never doubted?' she asked him, wondering. - -'I am too sure of myself,' he answered. - -'And God knows you have cause to be, more cause than any man of whom -ever I heard tell. Do you know, Lord Prince, that in these five years -there is no evil I have not believed of you? I even deemed you a coward, -on the word of that vain boaster Carmagnola.' - -'He was none so wrong, by his own lights. I am not a fighter of his -pattern. I have ever been careful of myself.' - -'Your condition now proves that.' - -'Oh, this, to-day ... That was different. Too much depended on the -issue. It was the last throw. I had to take a hand, much though I -dislike a rough-and-tumble. So that we won through, it would not much -have mattered if the vamplate of that fellow's lance had brought up -against my throat. There are no more fights for me, so what matter if I -left my life in the last one?' - -'The last one, Lord Prince!' - -'And that is not my title any more. I am a prince no longer. I leave the -rank behind with all the other vanities of the world.' - -'You leave it behind?' She found him obscure. - -'When I go back to Cigliano, which will be as soon as I can move.' - -'What do you go to do at Cigliano?' - -'What? Why, what the other brethren do. _Pax multa in cella_. The old -abbot was right. There is yonder a peace for which I am craving now that -my one task here is safely ended. In the world there is nothing for me.' - -'Nothing!' She was amazed. 'And in five years you have won so much!' - -'Nothing that I covet,' he answered gently. 'It is all vanity, all -madness, greed, and bloodlust. I was not made for worldliness, and but -for you I should never have known it. Now I have done.' - -'And your dominions, Gavi and Valsassina?' - -'I'll bestow them upon you, madonna, if you will deign to accept a -parting gift from these hands.' - -'There was a long pause. She had drawn back a little. He could not see -her face. 'You have the fever, I think,' she said presently in an odd -voice. 'It is your hurt.' - -He sighed. 'Aye, you would think so. It is difficult for one reared in -the world to understand that a man's eyes should remain undazzled by its -glitter. Yet, believe me, I leave it with but one regret.' - -'And that?' The question came breathlessly upon a whisper. - -'That the purpose for which I entered it remains unfulfilled. That I -have learnt no Greek.' - -Again there was a pause. Then she moved forward, rustling a little, and -came directly into his line of vision. - -'I hear your servants, I think. I will leave you now.' - -'I thank you, madonna. God be with you.' - -But she did not go. She stood there between himself and the fireplace, -slight and straight as on the first evening when he had seen her in her -garden. She was dressed in a close-fitting gown of cloth of silver. He -observed in particular now the tight sleeves which descended to the -knuckles of her slim, tapering hands, and remembered that just such -sleeves had she worn when first his eyes beheld her. Over this gown she -wore a loose houppelande of sapphire velvet, reversed at throat and wide -gaping sleeves with ermine. And there were sapphires in the silver caul -that confined her abundant red-gold hair. - -'Aye,' he said wistfully, dreamily, 'it was just so you looked, and just -so will I remember you as long as I remember anything. It is good to -have served you, lady mine. It has made me glorious in my own eyes.' - -'You have made yourself glorious, Lord Prince, in the eyes of all.' - -'What do they matter?' - -Slowly she came back to him. She was very pale and a little frown was -puckering her fine brows. Very wistful, and mysterious as deep pools, -were those dark eyes of hers. She came back, drawn by the words he had -used, and more than the words, by something odd in his gently musing -tone. - -'Do I matter nothing, Bellarion?' - -He smiled with an infinite sadness. 'Must you ask that now? Does not the -whole of my life in the world give you the answer, that never woman -mattered more to a man? I have known no service but yours. And I have -served you--_per fas et nefas_.' - -She stood above him, and her lips quivered. What she said when at last -she spoke had no apparent bearing upon the subject. - -'I am wearing your colours, Bellarion.' - -Surprise flickered in his eyes, as they sought confirmation of her -statement in the azure and argent of her wear. - -'And I did not remark the chance,' he cried. - -'Not chance. It is design.' - -'It was sweetly and generously courteous so to honour me.' - -'It was not only to honour you that I assumed these colours. Have they -no message for you, Bellarion?' - -'Message?' For the first time in their acquaintance she saw fear in his -bold eyes. - -'Clearly they have not; no message that you look for. You have said that -you covet nothing in this world.' - -'Nothing within my reach. To covet things beyond it is to taste the full -bitterness of life.' - -'Is there anything in the world that is not within your reach, -Bellarion?' - -He looked at her as she smiled down upon him through her tears. He -caught his breath gaspingly. With his sound left hand he clutched her -left which hung at the level of his head. - -'I am mad, of course,' he choked. - -'Not mad, Bellarion. Only stupid. Do you still covet nothing?' - -'Aye, one thing!' His face glowed. 'One thing that would change into a -living glory the tinsel glitter of the world, one thing that would make -life ... O God! What am I saying?' - -'Why do you break off, Bellarion?' - -'I am afraid!' - -'Of me? Is there anything I could deny you, who have given all to serve -me? Must I in return offer you all I have? Can you claim nothing for -yourself?' - -'Valeria!' - -She stooped to kiss his lips. 'My very hate of you in all these years -was love dissembled. Because my spirit leapt to yours, almost from that -first evening in the garden there, did it so wound and torture me to -discover baseness in you. I should have trusted my own heart, rather -than my erring senses, Bellarion. You warned me early that I am not good -at inference. I have suffered as those suffer who are in rebellion -against themselves.' - -He pondered her, very pale and sorrowful. 'Yes,' he said slowly, 'I have -the fever, as you said awhile ago. It must be that.' - - - - -THE END - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BELLARION THE FORTUNATE: A -ROMANCE *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -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 <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> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Bellarion the Fortunate: A romance</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Rafael Sabatini</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: June 26, 2022 [eBook #68411]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Dagny and Laura Natal Rodrigues (Images generously made available by The Internet Archive.)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BELLARION THE FORTUNATE: A ROMANCE ***</div> - - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/bellarion_cover.jpg" width="500" alt="" /> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/bellarion_frontispiece.jpg" width="500" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - - -<h1>BELLARION -<br /> -THE FORTUNATE</h1> - -<p><br /></p> - -<h3><i>A Romance</i></h3> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>BY</h4> - -<h2>RAFAEL SABATINI</h2> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>BOSTON AND NEW YORK</h4> - -<h4>HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY</h4> - -<h4>The Riverside Press Cambridge</h4> - -<h5>1926</h5> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h5>COPYRIGHT, 1926, BY RAFAEL SABATINI -<br /> -ALL RIGHTS RESERVED</h5> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<img src="images/figure01.jpg" width="400" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p><br /></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<img src="images/figure02.jpg" width="400" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>CONTENTS</h4> - -<p class="nind"> -<a href="#BOOK_I">BOOK I</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap01">I. The Threshold</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap02">II. The Grey Friar</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap03">III. The Door Ajar</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap04">IV. Sanctuary</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap05">V. The Princess</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap06">VI. The Winds of Fate</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap07">VII. Service</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap08">VIII. Stalemate</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap09">IX. The Marquis Theodore</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap10">X. The Warning</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap11">XI. Under Suspicion</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap12">XII. Count Spigno</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap13">XIII. The Trial</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap14">XIV. Evasion</a><br /> - -<a href="#BOOK_II">BOOK II</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap01_II">I. The Miracle of the Dogs</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap02_II">II. Facino Cane</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap03_II">III. The Countess of Biandrate</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap04_II">IV. The Champion</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap05_II">V. The Commune of Milan</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap06_II">VI. The Fruitless Wooing</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap07_II">VII. Manœuvres</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap08_II">VIII. The Battle of Travo</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap09_II">IX. De Mortuis</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap10_II">X. The Knight Bellarion</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap11_II">XI. The Siege of Alessandria</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap12_II">XII. Visconti Faith</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap13_II">XIII. The Victuallers</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap14_II">XIV. The Muleteer</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap15_II">XV. The Camisade</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap16_II">XVI. Severance</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap17_II">XVII. The Return</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap18_II">XVIII. The Hostage</a><br /> - -<a href="#BOOK_III">BOOK III</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap01_III">I. The Lord Bellarion</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap02_III">II. The Battle of Novi</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap03_III">III. Facino's Return</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap04_III">IV. The Count of Pavia</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap05_III">V. Justice</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap06_III">VI. The Inheritance</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap07_III">VII. Prince of Valsassina</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap08_III">VIII. Carmagnola's Bridges</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap09_III">IX. Vercelli</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap10_III">X. The Arrest</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap11_III">XI. The Pledge</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap12_III">XII. Carmagnola's Duty</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap13_III">XIII. The Occupation of Casale</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap14_III">XIV. The Vanquished</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap15_III">XV. The Last Fight</a></p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>BELLARION</h4> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="BOOK_I">BOOK I</a></h4> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap01"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER I -<br /><br /> -THE THRESHOLD</h4> - -<p> -Half god, half beast,' the Princess Valeria once described him, without -suspecting that the phrase describes not merely Bellarion, but Man. -</p> -<p> -Aware of this, the anonymous chronicler who has preserved it for us goes -on to comment that the Princess said at once too much and too little. He -makes phrases in his turn—which I will spare you—and seeks -to prove, that, if the moieties of divinity and beastliness are equally -balanced in a man, that man will be neither good nor bad. Then he passes -on to show us a certain poor swineherd, who rose to ultimate eminence, -in whom the godly part so far predominated that naught else was humanly -discernible, and a great prince—of whom more will be heard in the -course of this narrative—who was just as the beasts that perish, -without any spark of divinity to exalt him. These are the extremes. For -each of the dozen or so intermediate stages which he discerns, our -chronicler has a portrait out of history, of which his learning appears -to be considerable. -</p> -<p> -From this, from his general manner, from the fact that most of his -illustrations are supplied by Florentine sources, and from the austerely -elegant Tuscan language in which he writes, a fairly definite conclusion -is possible on the score of his identity. It is more than probable that -this study of Bellarion the Fortunate (Bellarione Il Fortunato) belongs -to that series of historical portraits from the pen of Niccolò -Macchiavelli, of which 'The Life of Castruccio Castracane' is perhaps -the most widely known. Research, however, fails to discover the source -from which he draws. Whilst many of his facts agree completely with -those contained in the voluminous, monkish 'Vita et Gesta Bellarionis,' -left us by Fra Serafino of Imola, whoever he may have been, yet -discrepancies are frequent and irreconcilable. -</p> -<p> -Thus, at the very outset, on the score of his name, Macchiavelli (to -cling to my assumption) tells us that he was called Bellarion not merely -because he was a man of war, but because he was the very child of War, -born as it were out of the very womb of conflict—'<i>e di guerra -propriamente partorito</i>.' The use of this metaphor reveals a full -acquaintance with the tale of the child's being plucked from the midst -of strife and alarums. But Fra Serafino's account of the name is the -only one that fits into the known facts. That this name should have been -so descriptive of Bellarion's after life merely provides one of those -curious instances of homonymy in which history abounds. -</p> -<p> -Continuing his comments upon the Princess Valeria's phrase, Macchiavelli -states that Bellarion's is not a nature thus to be packed into a -sentence. Because of his perception of this fact, he wrote his -biographical sketch. Because of my perception of it, I have embarked -upon this fuller narrative. -</p> -<p> -I choose to begin at a point where Bellarion himself may be said to make -a certain beginning. I select the moment when he is to be seen standing -upon the threshold of the secular world, known to him until that moment -only from the writings of other men, yet better known to him thus than -it is to many who have lived a lifetime among their fellows. After all, -to view a scene from a distance is to enjoy advantages of perspective -denied to the actors in that scene. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion's reading had been prodigious. There was no branch of -learning—from the Theological Fathers to Vegetius Hyginus on The -Art of War'—to which he had not addressed his eager spirit. And -his exhaustion of all immediately available material for study was one -of the causes of his going forth from the peace of the convent of which -he was a nursling, in quest of deeper wells of learning, to slake his -hot intellectual thirst. Another cause was a certain heretical doctrine -of which it was hoped that further study would cure him; a doctrine so -subversive of theological teaching that a hundred years later it must -have made him closely acquainted with the operations of the Holy Office -and probably—in Spain certainly—have brought him to the -fire. This abominable heresy, fruit of much brooding, was that in the -world there is not, nor can be, such a thing as sin. And it was in vain -that the Abbot, who loved him very dearly, sought by argument to convert -him. -</p> -<p> -'It is your innocence that speaks. Alas, my child, in the world, from -which hitherto you have been mercifully sheltered, you will find that -sin is not only real but terribly abundant.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion answered with a syllogism, the logical formula to which he had -reduced his doctrine. He presented it in the Socratic manner of inquiry, -which was the method of argument he ever preferred. -</p> -<p> -'Are not all things in the world from God? Is not God the fount of all -goodness? Can, therefore, any created thing be other than good?' -</p> -<p> -'And the devil, then?' quoth the Abbot. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion smiled, a singularly sweet smile that had power to draw men's -love and lead them into agreement with him. -</p> -<p> -'Is it not possible that those who invented the devil may have studied -divinity in Persia, where the creed obtains that powers of light and -darkness, Ormuzd and Ahriman, strive perpetually for mastery of the -world? Surely, otherwise, they would have remembered that if the devil -exists, God must have created him, which in itself is blasphemy, for God -can create no evil.' -</p> -<p> -Aghast, the Abbot descended at a stride from the theological to the -practical. -</p> -<p> -'Is it not evil to steal, to kill, to commit adultery?' -</p> -<p> -'Ah, yes. But these are evils between men, disruptive of society, and -therefore to be suppressed lest man become as the beasts. But that is -all.' -</p> -<p> -'All? All!' The Abbot's deep-set eyes surveyed the youth with sorrow. -'My son, the devil lends you a false subtlety to destroy your soul.' -</p> -<p> -And gently, now, that benign and fatherly man preached him a sermon of -the faith. It was followed by others in the days that ensued. But to all -the weapons of his saintly rhetoric Bellarion continued to oppose the -impenetrable shield of that syllogism of his, which the Abbot knew at -heart to be fallacious, yet whose fallacy he laboured in vain to expose. -But when the good man began to fear lest this heresy should come to -trouble and corrupt the peace and faith of his convent, he consented to -speed its author to Pavia and to those further studies which he hoped -would cure him of his heretical pravity. And that is how, on a day of -August of the year of grace 1407, Bellarion departed from the convent of -Our Lady of Grace of Cigliano. -</p> -<p> -He went on foot. He was to be dependent for food and shelter mainly upon -the charity of the religious houses that lay on his way to Pavia, and as -a passport to these he bore in his scrip a letter from the Abbot of the -Grazie. Beside it lay a purse, containing for emergencies five ducats, a -princely sum not only in his own eyes, but in those of the Abbot who at -parting had bestowed it upon him. The tale of his worldly possessions is -completed by the suit of coarse green cloth he wore and the knife at his -girdle, which was to serve all purposes from the carving of his meat to -affording him a means of defence from predatory beasts and men. To -fortify him spiritually in his adventurous pilgrimage through Lombardy -he had the Abbot's blessing and a memory of the fond tears in the eyes -of that old man who had reared him from the age of six. At the last the -Abbot had again reminded him of the peace of the convent and of the -strife and unhappiness that distract the world. -</p> -<p> -'<i>Pax multa in cella, foris autem plurima bella.</i>' -</p> -<p> -The mischief began—and you may account it symbolical—by his -losing his way. This happened a mile or two beyond the township of -Livorno. Because the peace of the riverside allured a mind that for -seventeen years had been schooled in peace, because the emerald meadows -promised to be soft and yielding to his feet, he left the dusty highway -for the grassy banks of Po. Beside its broad waters winding here about -the shallow, pleasant hills of Montferrat, Bellarion trudged, staff in -hand, the green hood of his cape thrown back, the long liripipe trailing -like a tail behind him, a tall, lithe stripling of obvious vigour, -olive-skinned, black-haired, and with dark eyes that surveyed the world -bold and fearlessly. -</p> -<p> -The day was hot. The air was laden with the heavy perfumes of late -summer, and the river swollen and clouded by the melting snows on -distant Monte Rosa. -</p> -<p> -He wandered on, lost in day-dreams, until the sunlight passed with the -sinking of the sun behind the wooded heights across the river and a -breeze came whispering through the trees on his own bank. He checked, -his dark eyes alert, a frown of thought rumpling the fair smoothness of -his lofty brow. He looked about, became aware of a deep forest on his -left, bethought him of the road, remembered where the sun had set, and -realised hence that for some time he had been travelling south, and -consequently in the wrong direction. In following the allurements -offered to his senses he had gone astray. He made some homely philosophy -upon that, to his infinite satisfaction, for he loved parallels and -antitheses and all such intellectual toys. For the rest, there was about -him no doubt or hesitation. He computed, from the time he had taken and -the pace at which he had come, the extent to which he had wandered from -the road. It must run too far beyond this forest to leave him any hope -of lying that night, as he had intended, with the Augustinian fathers at -their house on the Sesia, on the frontiers of the State of Milan. -</p> -<p> -Save for the hunger that beset him, he was undismayed. And what after -all is a little hunger to one schooled to the most rigid lenten fasts in -season? -</p> -<p> -He entered the wood, and resolutely went forward in the direction in -which he knew the road to lie. For a half-mile or more he penetrated by -a path growing less visible at every step, until darkness and the forest -swallowed him. To go on would certainly be to lose himself completely in -this maze. Better far to lie down and sleep where he was, and wait for -the morning sun to give him his orientation. -</p> -<p> -So he spread his cloak upon the ground, and this proving no harder as a -couch than the pallet to which he was accustomed, he slept soundly and -peacefully. -</p> -<p> -When he awakened he found the sunlight in the forest and something else -of almost more immediate interest; a man in the grey habit of a minor -friar. This man, tall and lean, was standing beside him, yet half turned -from him in a curious attitude of arrested movement, almost as if the -abrupt suddenness with which Bellarion had sat up—a single heartbeat -after his eyes had opened—had checked his intention to depart. -</p> -<p> -Thus an instant, then the friar was facing him again, his hands folded -within the loose sleeves of his robe, a smile distending his -countenance. He uttered a benedictory greeting. -</p> -<p> -'Pax tecum.' -</p> -<p> -'Et tecum, frater, pax,' was Bellarion's mechanical answer, what time he -studied this stranger's villainous, patibulary countenance, marking the -animal looseness of mouth, and the craft peering from the little eyes -that were black beads thrust into a face of clay. A closer scrutiny -softened his judgment. The man's face was disfigured, ridged, scarred, -and pitted from the smallpox. These scars had contracted the skin about -the eyes, thus altering their expression, and to the ravages of the -disease was also due the sickly pallor overspreading cheek and brow. -</p> -<p> -Considering this and the habit which the man wore—a habit which -Bellarion had no cause to associate with anything that was not sweet and -good—he disposed himself to make amends for the hastiness of his -first assumptions. -</p> -<p> -'Benedictus sis,' he murmured, and with that abandoned Latin for the -vulgar tongue. 'I bless the Providence that sends you to a poor -traveller who has lost his way.' -</p> -<p> -The friar laughed aloud at that, and the lingering apprehension left his -eyes, which thus relieved grew pleasanter to look upon. -</p> -<p> -'Lord! Lord! And I like a fool and coward, having almost trod upon you, -was for creeping off in haste, supposing you a sleeping robber. This -forest is a very sanctuary of thieves. They infest it, thick as rabbits -in a warren.' -</p> -<p> -'Why, then, do you adventure in it?' -</p> -<p> -'Why? Ohé! And what shall they steal from a poor friar-mendicant? My -beads? My girdle?' He laughed again. A humorous fellow, clearly, taking -a proper saintly joy in his indigenous condition. 'No, no, my brother. I -have no cause to go in fear of thieves.' -</p> -<p> -'Yet supposing me a thief, you were in fear of me?' -</p> -<p> -The man's smile froze. This stripling's simple logic was disconcerting. -</p> -<p> -'I feared,' he said at last, slowly and solemnly, 'your fear of me. A -hideous passion, fear, in man or beast. It makes men murderers at times. -Had you been the robber I supposed you, and, waking suddenly, found me -beside you, you might have suspected some intent to harm you. It is -easily guessed what would have followed then.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion nodded thoughtfully. No explanation could have been more -complete. The man was not only virtuous, but wise. -</p> -<p> -'Whither do you journey, brother?' -</p> -<p> -'To Pavia,' Bellarion answered him, 'by way of Santa Tenda.' -</p> -<p> -'Santa Tenda! Why, that is my way too; at least as far as the -Augustinian Monastery on the Sesia. Wait here, my son, and we will go -together. It is good to have a comrade on a journey. Wait but some few -moments, to give me time to bathe, which is the purpose for which I -came. I will not keep you long.' -</p> -<p> -He went striding off through the grass. Bellarion called after him: -</p> -<p> -'Where do you bathe?' -</p> -<p> -Over his shoulder the friar answered him: 'There is a rivulet down -yonder. But a little way. Do not stray from that spot, so that I may -find you again, my son.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion thought the form of address an odd one. A minorite is brother, -not father, to all humanity. But it was no suspicion based on this that -brought him to his feet. He was a youth of cleanly habits, and if there -was water at hand, he too would profit by it. So he rose, picked up his -cloak, and went off in the wake of the swiftly moving friar. -</p> -<p> -When, presently, he overtook him, Bellarion made him a present of a -proverb. -</p> -<p> -'Who goes slowly, goes soundly.' -</p> -<p> -'But never gets there,' was the slightly breathless answer. 'And it's -still some way to the water.' -</p> -<p> -'Some way? But you said ...' -</p> -<p> -'Aye, aye. I was mistaken. One place is like another in this labyrinth. -I am none so sure that I am not as lost as you are.' -</p> -<p> -It must have been so, for they trudged a full mile before they came to a -brook that flowed westward towards the river. It lay in a dell amid -mossy boulders and spreading fronds of ferns all dappled now with the -golden light that came splashing through the trees. They found a pool of -moderate dimensions in a bowl of grey stone fashioned by the ceaseless -sculpture of the water. It was too shallow to afford a bath. But the -friar's ablutionary dispositions scarce seemed to demand so much. He -rinsed face and hands perfunctorily, whilst Bellarion stripped to the -waist, and displaying a white torso of much beauty and more vigour, did -what was possible in that cramped space. -</p> -<p> -After that the friar produced from one of the sack-like pockets of his -habit an enormous piece of sausage and a loaf of rye bread. -</p> -<p> -To Bellarion who had gone supperless to bed this was as the sight of -manna in the desert. -</p> -<p> -'Little brother!' he cooed in sheer delight. 'Little brother!' -</p> -<p> -'Aye, aye. We have our uses, we little brothers of Saint Francis.' The -minorite sliced the sausage in two equal halves. 'We know how to provide -ourselves upon a journey.' -</p> -<p> -They fell to eating, and with the stilling of his hunger Bellarion -experienced an increasing kindliness to this Good Samaritan. At the -friar's suggestion that they should be moving so as to cover the greater -part of the road to Casale before the noontide heat, Bellarion stood up, -brushing the crumbs from his lap. In doing so his hand came in contact -with the scrip that dangled from his girdle. -</p> -<p> -'Saints of God!' he ejaculated, as he tightened his clutch upon that bag -of green cloth. -</p> -<p> -The beady eyes of the minorite were upon him, and there was blank -inquiry in that ashen, corrugated face. -</p> -<p> -'What is it, brother?' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion's fingers groped within the bag a moment, then turned it -inside out, to reveal its utter emptiness. He showed his companion a -face which blended suspicion with dismay. -</p> -<p> -'I have been robbed!' he said. -</p> -<p> -'Robbed?' the other echoed, then smiled a pitying concern. 'My surprise -is less than yours, my son. Did I not say these woods are infested by -thieves and robbers? Had you slept less soundly you might have been -robbed of life as well. Render thanks to God, Whose grace is discernible -even in misfortune. For no evil befalls us that will not serve to show -how much greater that evil might have been. Take that for comfort ever -in adversity, my child.' -</p> -<p> -'Aye, Aye!' Bellarion displayed ill-humour, whilst his eyes abated -nothing of their suspicious glance. 'It is easy to make philosophy upon -the woes of others.' -</p> -<p> -'Child, child! What is your woe? What is the full sum of it? What have -you lost, when all is said?' -</p> -<p> -'Five ducats and a letter.' Bellarion flung the answer fiercely. -</p> -<p> -'Five ducats!' The friar spread his hands in pious remonstrance. 'And -will you blaspheme God for five ducats?' -</p> -<p> -'Blaspheme?' -</p> -<p> -'Is not your furious frame of mind a blasphemy, your anger at your loss -where there should be a devout thankfulness for all that you retain? And -you should be thankful, too, for the Providence that guided my steps -towards you in the hour of your need.' -</p> -<p> -'I should be thankful for that?' Bellarion stressed the question with -mistrust. -</p> -<p> -The friar's countenance changed. A gentle melancholy invested it. -</p> -<p> -'I read your thoughts, child, and they harbour suspicion of me. Of Me!' -he smiled. 'Why, what a madness! Should I turn thief? Should I imperil -my immortal soul for five paltry ducats? Do you not know that we little -brothers of Saint Francis live as the birds of the air, without thought -for material things, our trust entirely in God's providence? What should -I do with five ducats, or five hundred? Without a single minted coin, -with no more than my gown and my staff I might journey from here to -Jerusalem, living upon the alms that never fail us. But assurances are -not enough for minds poisoned by suspicion.' He flung wide his arms, and -stood cruciform before the youth. 'Come, child, make search upon me for -your ducats, and so assure yourself. Come!' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion flushed, and lowered his head in shame. -</p> -<p> -'There ... there is not the need,' he answered lamely. 'The gown you -wear is a full assurance. You could not be what you are and yet the -thing that for a moment I ...' He broke off. 'I beg that you'll forgive -my unworthiness, my brother.' -</p> -<p> -Slowly the friar lowered his arms. His eyes were smiling again. -</p> -<p> -'I will be merciful by not insisting.' He laid a hand, lean and long in -the fingers as an eagle's claw upon the young man's shoulder. 'Think no -more of your loss. I am here to repair it. Together we will journey. The -habit of Saint Francis is wide enough to cover both of us, and you shall -not want for anything until you reach Pavia.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion looked at him in gratitude. 'It was Providence, indeed, that -sent you.' -</p> -<p> -'Did I not say so? And now you see it for yourself. Benedicamus Domine.' -</p> -<p> -To which Bellarion sincerely made the prescribed answer: 'Deo gratias!' -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap02"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER II -<br /><br /> -THE GREY FRIAR</h4> - -<p> -They made their way towards the road, not directly, but by a course with -which Fra Sulpizio—as the friar announced himself named—seemed -singularly well acquainted. It led transversely across the forest. And -as they went, Fra Sulpizio plied Bellarion with questions. -</p> -<p> -'There was a letter, you said, that was stolen with your gold?' -</p> -<p> -'Aye,' Bellarion's tone was bitter. 'A letter worth many times five -ducats.' -</p> -<p> -'Worth many times ...? A letter?' The incredulity on the friar's face -was ludicrous. 'Why, what manner of letter was that?' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion, who knew the contents by heart, recited them word for word. -</p> -<p> -Fra Sulpizio scratched his head in perplexity. 'I have Latin enough for -my office; but not for this,' he confessed, and finding Bellarion's -searching glance upon him, he softened his voice to add, truly enough: -'We little brothers of Saint Francis are not famed for learning. -Learning disturbs humility.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion sighed. 'So I know to my cost,' said he, and thereafter -translated the lost letter: 'This is our dearly beloved son Bellarion, a -nutritus of this house, who goes hence to Pavia to increase his -knowledge of the humanities. We commend him first to God and then to the -houses of our own and other brethren orders for shelter and assistance -on his journey, involving upon all who may befriend him the blessing of -Our Lord.' -</p> -<p> -The friar nodded his understanding. 'It might have been a grievous loss, -indeed. But as it is, I will do the office of your letter whilst I am -with you, and when we part I will see you armed with the like from the -Prior of the Augustinians on the Sesia. He will do this at my word.' -</p> -<p> -The young man thanked him with a fervour dictated by shame of certain -unworthy suspicions which had recurred. Thereafter they trudged on a -while in silence, broken by the friar at last. -</p> -<p> -'And is your name Belisario, then? An odd name, that!' -</p> -<p> -'Not Belisario. Bellario, or rather, Bellarione.' -</p> -<p> -'Bellarione? Why, it is even less Christian than the other. Where got -you such a name?' -</p> -<p> -'Not at the font, you may be sure. There I was christened Ilario, after -the good Saint Hilary, who is still my patron saint.' -</p> -<p> -'Then why ...?' -</p> -<p> -'There's a story to it; my story,' Bellarion answered him, and upon -slight encouragement proceeded to relate it. -</p> -<p> -He was born, he told the friar, as nearly as he could guess, some six -years after the outbreak of the Great Schism, that is to say, somewhere -about the year 1384, in a village of whose name, like that of his own -family, he had no knowledge. -</p> -<p> -'Of my father and my mother,' he continued, 'I can evoke no mental -picture. Of my father my only positive knowledge is that he existed. Of -my mother I know that she was a termagant of whom the family, my father -included, stood in awe. Amongst my earliest impressions is the sense of -fear that invaded us at the sound of her scolding voice. It was -querulous and strident; and I can hear it to this day harshly raised to -call my sister. Leocadia was that sister's name, the only name of all my -family that I remember, and this because I must often have heard it -called in that dread voice. There were several of us. I have one vivid -memory of perhaps a half-dozen tumbling urchins, playing at some game in -a bare chill room, that was yellow washed, lighted by an unglazed window -beyond which the rain was streaming down upon a narrow dismal street. -There was a clang of metal in the air, as if armourers were at work in -the neighbourhood. And we were in the charge, I remember, of that same -Leocadia, who must have been the eldest of us. I have an impression, -vague and misty, of a lanky girl whose lean bare legs showed through a -rent in her tattered petticoat. Faintly I discern a thin, pinched face -set in a mane of untidy yellow hair, and then I hear a heavy step and -the creak of a stair and a shrill, discordant voice calling "Leocadia!" -and then a scuttle amongst us to shelter from some unremembered peril. -</p> -<p> -'Of my family, that is all that I can tell you, brother. You'll agree, -perhaps, that since my memory can hold so little it is a pity that it -should hold so much. But for these slight impressions of my infancy I -might weave a pleasant romance about it, conceive myself born in a -palace and heir to an illustrious name. -</p> -<p> -'That these memories of mine concern the year 1389 or 1390 I know from -what the Abbot tells me, and also from later studies and deductions of -my own. As you may know, there was at that time a bitter war being waged -hereabouts between Ghibelline Montferrat and Guelphic Morea. It may have -ravaged these very lands by which we travel now. One evening at the hour -of dusk a foraging troop of Montferrat horse swept into my native place. -There was pillage and brutality of every kind, as you can imagine. There -was terror and confusion in every household, no doubt, and even in our -own, although Heaven knows we had little cause to stand in dread of -pillage. I remember that as night descended we huddled in the dark -listening to the sounds of violence in the distance, coming from what I -now imagine to have been the more opulent quarter of that township. I -can hear my mother's heavy breathing. For once she inspired no terror in -us, being herself stricken with terror and cowed into silence. But this -greater terror was upon us all, a sense of impending evil, of some -horror advancing presently to overwhelm us. There were snivelling, -whimpering sounds in the gloom about me from Leocadia and the other -children. It is odd, how things heard have remained stamped upon my mind -so much more vividly than things seen, which usually are more easily -remembered. But from that moment my memory begins to grow clear and -consecutive, perhaps from the sudden sharpening of my wits by this -crisis. -</p> -<p> -'It was probably the instinct to withdraw myself beyond the reach of -that approaching evil, which drew me furtively from the room. I remember -groping my way in the dark down a steep crazy staircase, and tumbling -down three stone steps at the door of that hovel into the mud of the -street. -</p> -<p> -'I picked myself up, bruised and covered with filth. At another time -this might have set me howling. Just then my mind was filled with graver -concerns. In the open the noises were more distinct. I could hear -shouts, and once a piercing scream that made my young blood run cold. -Away on my right there was a red glow in the sky, and associating it -with the evil that was to be escaped, I turned down the alley and made -off, whimpering as I ran. Soon there was an end to the houses, and I was -out of their shadow in the light of a rising moon on a road that led -away through the open country into eternity as it must have seemed to -me. From this I have since argued either that the township had neither -gates nor walls, or else that the mean quarter we inhabited was outside -and beyond them. -</p> -<p> -'I cannot have been above five years of age, and I must have been -singularly sturdy, for my little legs bore me several miles that night, -driven by unreasoning fear. At last I must have sunk down exhausted by -the roadside, and there fallen asleep, for my next memory is of my -awakening. It was broad daylight, and I was in the grasp of a big, -bearded man who from his cap to his spurs was all steel and leather. -Beside him stood the great bay horse from which he had just leaped, and -behind him, filling the road in a staring, grinning, noisy cluster, was -ranged a troop of fully fifty men with lances reared above them. -</p> -<p> -'He soothed my terrors with a voice incredibly gentle in one so big and -fierce, and asked me who I was and whence I came, questions to which I -could return no proper answers. To increase my confidence, perhaps, he -gave me food, some fruit and bread—such bread as I had never tasted. -</p> -<p> -'"We cannot leave you here, baby," he said. "And since you don't know -where you belong, I will take charge of you." -</p> -<p> -'I no longer feared him or those with him. What cause had I to fear -them? This man had stroked and petted and fed me. He had used me more -kindly than I could remember ever to have been used before. So when -presently I was perched in front of him on the withers of his great -horse, I knew no sense but one of entire satisfaction. -</p> -<p> -'Later that day we came to a town, whose inhabitants regarded us in -cringing awe. But, perhaps, because its numbers were small, the troop -bore itself with circumspection, careful to give no provocation. -</p> -<p> -'The man-at-arms who had befriended me kept me in his train for a month -or more. Then, the exigencies of the campaign against Morea demanding -it, he placed me with the Augustinian fathers at the Grazie near -Cigliano. They cared for me as if I had been a prince's child instead of -a stray waif picked up by the roadside. Thereafter at intervals he would -come to visit me, and these visits, although the intervals between them -grew ever longer, continued for some three or four years, after which we -never saw or heard of him again. Either he died or else lost interest in -the child he had saved and protected. Thereafter the Augustinians were -my only friends. They reared me, and educated me, hoping that I would -one day enter the order. They made endeavours to trace my birthplace and -my family. But without success. And that,' he ended, 'is all my story.' -</p> -<p> -'Ah, not quite all,' the friar reminded him. 'There is this matter of -your name.' -</p> -<p> -'Ah, yes. On that first day when I rode with my man-at-arms we went to a -tavern in the town I mentioned, and there he delivered me into the hands -of the taverner's wife, to wash and clothe me. It was an odd fancy in -such a man, as I now realise; but I am persuaded that whilst he rode -that morning with my little body resting in the crook of his great arm, -he conceived the notion to adopt me for his own. Men are like that, -their natures made up of contradictory elements; and a rough, even -brutal, soldier of fortune, not normally pitiful, may freakishly be -moved to pity by the sight and touch of a poor waif astray by the -roadside.' And on that he fell to musing. -</p> -<p> -'But the name?' the friar reminded him again. -</p> -<p> -He laughed. 'Why, when the taverner's wife set me before him, scoured -clean and dressed in a comely suit of green cloth, not unlike the suit I -am wearing now—for I have affected green ever since in memory of him -and of the first fair raiment I ever wore, which was of his -providing—it may be that I presented a comely appearance. He stared -at me in sheer surprise. I can see him now, seated on a three-legged stool -in a patch of sunlight that came through the blurred glass of the -window, one hand on the knee of his booted leg, the other stroking his -crisp black beard, his grey eyes conning me with an increasing -kindliness. -</p> -<p> -'"Come hither, boy," he bade me, and held out his hand. -</p> -<p> -'I went without fear or hesitation. He rested me against his knee, and -set a hand upon my head still tingling from its recent combing. -</p> -<p> -'"What did you tell me is your name?" he asked. -</p> -<p> -'"Ilario," I answered him. -</p> -<p> -'He stared a moment, then a smile half scornful broke upon his rugged, -weather-beaten face. "Ilario, thou? With that solemn countenance and -those big melancholy eyes?" He ran on in words which I remember, though -I barely caught their meaning then. "Was there ever an Ilario less -hilarious? There's no hilarity about you, child, nor ever has been, I -should judge. Ilario! Faugh! Bellario, rather, with such a face. Is he -not a lovely lad?" He turned me about for the approval of the taverner's -wife, who stood behind me, and she, poor woman, made haste to agree, -with fawning smiles, as she would have agreed with anything uttered by -this dread man who must be conciliated. "Bellario!" he repeated, -savouring the word of his invention with an inventor's pride. "That were -a better name for him, indeed. And by the Host, Bellario he shall be -renamed. Do you hear me, boy? Henceforth you are Bellario."' -</p> -<p> -Thus, he explained, the name so lightly bestowed became his own; and -later because of his rapid and rather excessive growth, the monks at the -Grazie fell into the habit of calling him Bellarione, or big Bellario. -</p> -<p> -It still wanted an hour or so to noon when the twain emerged from the -forest onto the open road. A little way along this they came upon a -homestead set amid rice-fields, now denuded, and vineyards where men and -women were at the labours of the vintage, singing as they harvested the -grape. And here Bellarion had an instance of how the little brothers of -Saint Francis receive alms without being so much as put to the trouble -of asking for them. For at sight of the friar's grey frock, one of the -labourers, who presently announced himself the master of the homestead, -came hurrying to bid them stay and rest and join the household at -dinner, of which the hour was at hand. -</p> -<p> -They sat down to rough, abundant fare in the roomy kitchen, amid the -members of that considerable family, sharing with them the benches set -against a trestle table of well-scoured deal. -</p> -<p> -There was a cereal porridge, spread, like mortar, upon a board into -which each dipped a wooden spoon, and, after this, came strips of roast -kid with boiled figs and bread moist and solid as cheese. To wash all -down there was a rough red wine, sharp on the palate, but wholesome and -cool from the cellar, of which the friar drank over-copiously. -</p> -<p> -They numbered a round dozen at table; the old peasant and his wife, a -nephew and seven children of full age, three of whom were young women, -red-lipped, dark-skinned, deep-bosomed wenches with lusty brown arms and -bright eyes which were over-busy about Bellarion for his ease. -</p> -<p> -Once, across the board, he caught the eye of the friar, and about these -and the fellow's loose lips there played a smile of sly and unpleasant -amusement at Bellarion's uneasiness under these feminine attentions. -Later, when Fra Sulpizio's excessive consumption of wine had brought a -flush to the cheek-bones of that pallid face and set a glitter in the -beady eyes, Bellarion caught him pondering the girls with such a wolfish -leer that all his first instincts against the man were roused again, and -not the thought of his office or the contemplation of his habit could -efface them. -</p> -<p> -After dinner the friar must rest awhile, and Bellarion beguiled the time -of waiting, which was also the time of siesta in which all labour is -suspended, by wandering in the vineyard whither the peasant's daughters -led him, and where they engaged him in chatter that he found monstrous -tedious and silly. -</p> -<p> -Yet but for this and the fact that the vineyard bordered on the road, -Bellarion's association with the friar would have ended there, and all -his subsequent history must have been different indeed. The minorite's -siesta was shorter than might have been expected, and when something -less than an hour later he resumed his journey, so confused was he by -sleep and wine that he appeared to have forgotten his companion quite. -Had not Bellarion seen him striding away along the road to Casale, it is -certain the young man would have been left behind. -</p> -<p> -Nor did he manifest much satisfaction when Bellarion came running after -him. The scowl on his face argued displeasure. But his excuses and his -explanations that he was but half awake permitted the assumption that it -was himself with whom he was displeased. -</p> -<p> -He moved briskly now, swinging his long legs in great strides, and -casting ever and anon a glance behind him. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion offered a remonstrance at the pace, a reminder that Casale was -but some two leagues away and they had the afternoon in which to reach -it. -</p> -<p> -'If I go too fast for you, you may follow at your leisure,' the friar -grumbled. -</p> -<p> -It was for an instant in Bellarion's mind to take him at his word, then, -partly perversity, and partly a suspicion which he strove in vain to -stifle, overcame his natural pride. -</p> -<p> -'No, no, little brother. I'll accommodate my pace to yours, as befits.' -</p> -<p> -A grunt was the only answer; nor, indeed, although Bellarion made -several attempts to resume conversation, was there much said between -them thereafter as they trudged on in the heat of the afternoon along -the road that crosses the fertile plains from Trino to Casale. -</p> -<p> -They did not, however, proceed very far on foot. For, being presently -overtaken by a string of six or seven mules with capacious panniers -slung on either flank, the leading beast bestridden by the muleteer, -Bellarion received another demonstration of how a little brother of -Saint Francis may travel upon charity. As the column advanced upon them -at a brisk trot, Fra Sulpizio stepped to the middle of the road, with -arms held wide as if to offer a barrier. -</p> -<p> -The muleteer, a brawny, black-bearded fellow, drew rein within a yard of -him. -</p> -<p> -'What now, little brother? How can I serve you?' -</p> -<p> -'The blessing of God upon you, brother! Will you earn it by a little -charity besought in the name of the Blessed Francis? If your beasts are -not overladen, will you suffer them to carry a poor footsore Franciscan -and this gentle lad into Casale?' -</p> -<p> -The muleteer swung one cross-gartered leg over to the side of the other -and slipped to the ground, that he might assist them to mount, each on -one of the more lightly laden mules. Thereupon, having begged and -received Fra Sulpizio's blessing, he climbed back into his own saddle -and they were off at a sharp trot. -</p> -<p> -To Bellarion the experience of a saddle, or of what did duty for a -saddle, was as novel as it was painful, and so kept his thoughts most -fully engaged. It was his first essay in equitation, and the speed they -made shook and tossed and bruised him until there was not a bone or -muscle in his body that did not ache. His humour, too, was a little -bruised by the hilarity which his efforts to maintain his seat excited -in his two companions. -</p> -<p> -Thankful was he when they came in sight of the brown walls of Casale. -These surged before them almost suddenly in the plain as they took a -bend of the road; for the city's level position was such as to render it -inconspicuous from afar. The road led straight on to the San Stefano -Gate, towards which they clattered over the drawbridge spanning the wide -moat. There was a guard-house in the deep archway, and the door of this -stood open revealing some three or four soldiers lounging within. But -they kept a loose and careless guard, for these were peaceful times. One -of them, a young man in a leather haqueton, but bare of head, sauntered -forward as far as the doorway to fling a greeting at the muleteer, which -was taken by the fellow as permission to pass on. -</p> -<p> -From that gateway, cool and cavernous, they emerged into one of the -streets of the busy capital of the warlike State of Montferrat, which at -one time, none so far distant, had bidden fair to assume the lordship of -Northern Italy. -</p> -<p> -They proceeded slowly now, perforce. The crooked street, across which -the crazy houses seemed to lean towards each other so as to exclude the -sunlight from all but a narrow middle line, was thronged with people of -all degrees. It was ever a busy thoroughfare, this street of San -Stefano, leading from the gate of that name to the Cathedral Square, and -from his post of vantage on the back of the now ambling mule, Bellarion, -able at last to sit unshaken, looked about him with deep interest upon -manifestations of life known to him hitherto through little more than -the imagination which had informed his extensive reading. -</p> -<p> -It was market-day in Casale, and before the shops the way was blocked by -trestle tables, on which the merchants displayed their wares, shouting -their virtues to lure the attention of the wayfarers. -</p> -<p> -Through this they came, by low and narrow archways, to an even greater -bustle in the open space before the cathedral, founded, as Bellarion -knew, some seven hundred years before by Liutprand, King of the -Lombards. He turned to stare at the Roman architecture of the red and -white façade, flanked by slender square towers, each surmounted by an -hexagonal extinguisher roof. He was still considering the cruciform -windows when the mule halted and recalled his attention. -</p> -<p> -Ahead of him Fra Sulpizio was slipping to the ground, bestowing thanks -and invoking the blessings of God upon the muleteer. Bellarion -dismounted, a little stiff from his ride and very thankful to be at the -end of it. The muleteer flung them a 'God guard you,' over his shoulder, -and the string of mules passed on. -</p> -<p> -'And now, brother, we'll seek a supper, if you please,' the friar -announced. -</p> -<p> -To seek it was natural enough, but hardly, thought Bellarion, in the -tavern across the square, whither he was led. -</p> -<p> -On the threshold, under the withered bough that was hung as a sign above -the portal, the young man demurred, protesting that one of the religious -houses of the town were a fitter resort, and its charitable shelter more -suitable to a friar mendicant. -</p> -<p> -'Why, as to charity,' quoth Fra Sulpizio, 'it is on charity I depend. -Old Benvenuto here, the taverner, is my cousin. He will make us free of -his table, and give me news of my own folk at the same time. Is it not -natural and proper that I seek him?' -</p> -<p> -Reluctantly Bellarion was forced to agree. And he reminded himself, to -buttress a waning faith in his companion, that not once had he voiced a -suspicion of the friar's actions to which the friar's answer had not -been ready and complete. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap03"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER III -<br /><br /> -THE DOOR AJAR</h4> - -<p> -The event which was to deviate Bellarion so abruptly and brutally from -the peaceful ways of a student and a scholar, and to extinguish his -cherished hopes of learning Greek at Pavia under the far-famed Messer -Chrysolaras, was upon him so suddenly and so unheralded that he scarcely -realised it until it was overpast. -</p> -<p> -He and the friar had supped in the unclean and crowded common room of -the hostelry of the Stag—so called, it is presumed, in honour of the -Lords of Montferrat, who had adopted the stag as their device—and it -is to be confessed that they had supped abundantly and well under the -particular auspices of Ser Benvenuto, the host, who used his cousin Fra -Sulpizio with almost more than cousinly affection. He had placed them a -little apart from the noisy occupants of that low-ceilinged, grimy -chamber, in a recess under a tall, narrow window, standing open, so that -the stench, compounded of garlic, burnt meats, rancid oil, and other -things, which pervaded the apartment was here diluted for them by the -pure evening air. And he waited upon them himself, after a protracted -entertainment with the friar, conducted in a mutter of which nothing -reached Bellarion. He brought them of his best, of which the most -conspicuous item was a lean and stringy fowl, and he produced for them -from his cellar a flask of Valtelline which at least was worthy of a -better table. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion, tired and hungry, did justice to the viands, without -permitting himself more than a passing irritation at his companion's -whining expositions of the signal advantages of travelling under the -ægis of the blessed Francis. The truth is that he did not hear more -than the half of all that Fra Sulpizio found occasion to urge. For one -thing, in his greed, the friar spoke indistinctly, slobbering the while -at his food; for another, the many tenants of the inn were very noisy. -They made up a motley crowd, but had this in common, that all belonged -to the lower walks of life, as their loud, coarse speech, freely -interlarded with blasphemy and obscenity, abundantly bore witness. There -were some peasants from Romaglia or Torcella, or perhaps from Terranova -beyond the Po, who had come there to market, rude, brawny men for the -most part, accompanied by their equally brawny, barelegged women. There -were a few labourers of the town and others who may have been artisans, -one or two of them, indeed, so proclaimed by their leather aprons; and -at one table a group of four men and a woman were very boisterous over -their wine. The men were soldiers, so to be judged at a glance from -their leather haquetons and studded girdles with heavy daggers slung -behind. The woman with them was a gaudy, sinuous creature with haggard, -painted cheeks, whose mirth, now shrill, now raucous, was too easily -moved. When first he heard it Bellarion had shuddered. -</p> -<p> -'She laughs,' he had told the friar, 'as one might laugh in hell.' -</p> -<p> -For only answer Fra Sulpizio had looked at him and then veiled his eyes, -almost as if, himself, he were suppressing laughter. -</p> -<p> -Soon, however, Bellarion grew accustomed to the ever-recurring sound and -to the rest of the din, the rattle of platters and drinking-cans, the -growling of a dog over a bone it had discovered among the foul rushes -rotting on the bare earthen floor. -</p> -<p> -Having eaten, he sat back in his chair, a little torpid now, and drowsy. -Last night he had lain in the open, and he had been afoot almost since -dawn. It is little wonder that presently, whilst again the taverner was -muttering with his cousin the friar, he should have fallen into a doze. -</p> -<p> -He must have slept some little while, a half-hour, perhaps, for when he -awakened the patch of sunlight had faded from the wall across the alley, -visible from the window under which they sat. This he did not notice at -the time, but remembered afterwards. In the moment of awakening, his -attention was drawn by the friar, who had risen, and instantly -afterwards by something else, beyond the friar. At the open window -behind and above Fra Sulpizio there was the face of a man. Upon the edge -of the sill, beneath his face, were visible the fingers by which he had -hoisted himself thither. The questing eyes met Bellarion's, and seemed -to dilate a little; the mouth gaped suddenly. But before Bellarion could -cry out or speak, or even form the intention of doing either, the face -had vanished. And it was the face of the peasant with whom they had -dined that day. -</p> -<p> -The friar, warned by Bellarion's quickening stare, had swung round to -look behind him. But he was too late; the window space was already -empty. -</p> -<p> -'What is it?' he asked, suddenly apprehensive. 'What did you see?' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion told him, and was answered by an obscenely morphological oath, -which left him staring. The friar's countenance was suddenly -transfigured. A spasm of mingled fear and anger bared his fangs; his -beady eyes grew cruel and sinister. He swung aside as if to depart -abruptly, then as abruptly halted where he stood. -</p> -<p> -On the threshold surged the peasant, others following him. -</p> -<p> -The friar sank again to his stool at the table, and composed his -features. -</p> -<p> -'Yonder he sits, that friar rogue! That thief!' Thus the peasant as he -advanced. -</p> -<p> -The cry, and, more than all, the sight of the peasant's companions, -imposed a sudden silence upon the babel of that room. First came a young -man, stalwart and upright, in steel cap and gorget, booted and spurred, -a sword swinging from his girdle, a dagger hanging on his hip behind; a -little crimson feather adorning his steel cap proclaiming him an officer -of the Captain of Justice of Casale. After him came two of his men armed -with short pikes. -</p> -<p> -Straight to that table in the window recess the peasant led the way. -'There he is! This is he!' Belligerently he thrust his face into the -friar's, leaning his knuckles on the table's edge. 'Now, rogue ...' he -was beginning furiously, when Fra Sulpizio, raising eyes of mild -astonishment to meet his anger, gently interrupted him. -</p> -<p> -'Little brother, do you speak so to me? Do you call me rogue? Me?' He -smiled sadly, and so calm and gently wistful was his manner that it -clearly gave the peasant pause. 'A sinner I confess myself, for sinners -are we all. But I am conscious of no sin against you, brother, whose -charity was so freely given me only to-day.' -</p> -<p> -That saintly demeanour threw the peasant's simple wits into confusion. -He was thrust aside by the officer. -</p> -<p> -'What is your name?' -</p> -<p> -Fra Sulpizio looked at him, and his look was laden with reproach. -</p> -<p> -'My brother!' he cried. -</p> -<p> -'Attend to me!' the officer barked at him. 'This man charges you with -theft.' -</p> -<p> -'With theft!' Fra Sulpizio paused and sighed. 'It shall not move me to -the sin of anger, brother. It is too foolish: a thing for laughter. What -need have I to steal, when under the protection of Saint Francis I have -but to ask for the little that I need? What use to me is worldly gear? -But what does he say I stole?' -</p> -<p> -It was the peasant who answered him. -</p> -<p> -'Thirty florins, a gold chain, and a silver cross from a chest in the -room where you rested.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion remembered how the friar had sought to go slinking off alone -from the peasant homestead, and how fearfully he had looked behind him -as they trudged along the road until overtaken by the muleteer. And by -the muleteer it would be, he thought, that they had now been tracked. -The officer at the gate would have told the peasant of how the friar and -his young companion in greed had ridden in; then the peasant would have -sought the muleteer, and the rest was clear: as clear as it was to him -that his companion was a thieving rogue, and that his own five ducats -were somewhere about that scoundrel's person. -</p> -<p> -In future, he swore, he would be guided by his own keen instincts and -the evidence of his senses only, and never again allow a preconception -to befool him. Meanwhile, the friar was answering: -</p> -<p> -'So that not only am I charged with stealing; but I have returned evil -for good; I have abused charity. It is a heavy charge, my brother, and -very rashly brought.' -</p> -<p> -There was a murmur of sympathy from the staring, listening company, -amongst whom many lawless ones were, by the very instinct of their kind, -ready to range themselves against any who stood for law. -</p> -<p> -The friar opened his arms, wide and invitingly: -</p> -<p> -'Let me not depart from my vows of humility in the heat of my own -defence. I will say nothing. Do you, sir, make search upon me for the -gear which this man says I have stolen, though all his evidence is that -it chanced to be in a room in which for a little while I rested.' -</p> -<p> -'To accuse a priest!' said some one in a tone of indignation, and a -murmur arose at once in sympathy. -</p> -<p> -It moved the young officer to mirth. He half swung on his heel so as to -confront those mutterers. -</p> -<p> -'A priest!' he jeered. Then, his keen eyes flashed once more upon the -friar. 'When did you last say Mass?' -</p> -<p> -Before that simple question Fra Sulpizio seemed to lose some of his -assurance. Without even giving him time to answer, the officer fired -another question. 'What is your name?' -</p> -<p> -'My name?' The friar was looking at him from eyes that seemed to have -grown beadier than ever in that white, pitted face. 'I'll not expose -myself to ribald unbelief. You shall have written proof of my name. -Behold.' And from his gown he fetched a parchment, which he thrust under -the soldier's nose. -</p> -<p> -The officer conned it a moment, then his eyes went over the edge of it -back to the face of the man that held it. -</p> -<p> -'How can I read it upside down?' -</p> -<p> -The friar's hands, which shook a little, made haste to turn the sheet. -As he did so Bellarion perceived two things; that the sheet had been -correctly held at first; and that it was his own lost letter. He had a -glimpse of the Abbot's seal as the parchment was turned. -</p> -<p> -He was momentarily bewildered by a discovery that was really threefold: -first, the friar was indeed the thief who had rifled his scrip; second, -he must be in a more desperate case than Bellarion suspected, to seek to -cloak himself under a false identity; and, third, the pretence that the -document proffered upside down was a test to discover whether the fellow -could read, a trap into which the knave had tumbled headlong. -</p> -<p> -The officer laughed aloud, well pleased with his own cleverness. 'I knew -you were no clerk,' he mocked him. 'I have more than a suspicion who you -really are. Though you may have stolen a friar's habit, it would need -more than that to cover your ugly, pock-marked face and that scar on -your neck. You are Lorenzaccio da Trino, my friend; and there's a halter -waiting for you.' -</p> -<p> -The mention of that name made a stir in the tavern, and brought its -tenants a step nearer to the group about that table in the window -recess. It was a name known probably to every man present with the -single exception of Bellarion, the name of a bandit of evil fame -throughout Montferrat and Savoy. Something of the kind Bellarion may -have guessed. But at that moment the recovery of the Abbot's letter was -his chief concern. -</p> -<p> -'That parchment's mine!' he cried. 'It was stolen from me this morning -by this false friar.' -</p> -<p> -The interpolation diverted attention to himself. After a moment's blank -stare the officer laughed again. Bellarion began actively to dislike -that laugh of his. He was too readily moved to it. -</p> -<p> -'Why, here's Paul disowning Peter. Oh, to be sure, the associate becomes -the victim when the master rogue is taken. It's a stale trick, young -cockerel. It won't serve in Casale.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion bristled. He assumed a great dignity. 'Young sir, you may come -to regret your words. I am the man named in that parchment, as the Abbot -of the Grazie of Cigliano can testify.' -</p> -<p> -'No need to plague Messer the Abbot,' the officer mocked him. 'A taste -of the cord, my lad, a hoist or two, and you'll vomit all the truth.' -</p> -<p> -'The hoist!' Bellarion felt the skin roughening along his spine. -</p> -<p> -Was it to be taken for granted that he was a rogue, simply from his -association with this spurious friar; and were his bones to be broken by -the torturers to make him accuse himself? Was this how justice was -dispensed? -</p> -<p> -He was bewildered, and, as he afterwards confessed, he grew suddenly -afraid. And then there was a cry from the peasant, and things happened -quickly and unexpectedly. -</p> -<p> -Whilst the officer's attention had been on Bellarion, the false friar -had moved very soft and stealthily nearer to the window. The peasant it -was who detected the movement and realised its import. -</p> -<p> -'Lay hands on him!' he cried, in sudden alarm lest his florins and the -rest should take flight again, and, that alarm spurring him, himself he -leapt to seize Lorenzaccio by arm and shoulder. Fury blazed from the -bandit's beady eyes; his yellow fangs were bared in a grin of rage; -something flashed in his right hand, and then his knife sank into the -stomach of his assailant. It was a wicked, vicious, upward, ripping -thrust, like the stroke of a boar's tusk, and the very movement that -delivered it flung the peasant off, so that he hurtled into the arms of -the two soldiers, and momentarily hampered their advance. That moment -was all that Lorenzaccio needed. He swung aside, and with a vigour and -agility to execute, as remarkable as the rapidity of the conception -itself, he hoisted himself to the sill of the narrow, open window, -crouched there a second, measuring his outward leap, and was gone. -</p> -<p> -He left a raging confusion behind him, and an exclamatory din above -which rang fierce and futile commands from the Podestà's young officer. -One of the men-at-arms supported the swooning body of the peasant, -whilst his fellow vainly and stupidly sought to follow by the way -Lorenzaccio had gone, but failed because he lacked the bandit's vigour. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion, horror-stricken and half stupefied, stood staring at the -wretched peasant whose hurt he judged to be mortal. He was roused by a -gentle tugging at his sleeve. He half turned to find himself looking -into the painted face of the woman whose laughter earlier had jarred his -sensibilities. It was a handsome face, despite the tawdriness it derived -from the raddled cheeks and too vividly reddened lips. The -girl—she was little more—looked kindly concern upon him out -of dark, slanting eyes that were preternaturally bright. -</p> -<p> -'Away, away!' she muttered feverishly. 'This is your chance. Bestir!' -</p> -<p> -'My chance?' he echoed, and was conscious of the colour mounting to his -cheeks. -</p> -<p> -His first emotion was resentment of this misjudgment; his next a foolish -determination to stand firm and advance his explanations, insisting upon -justice being done him. All this whilst he had flung his question 'My -chance?' With the next heartbeat he perceived the strength of the -appearances against him. This poor drab, these evil ones about her and -him, offering him their sympathy only because they believed him made kin -with them by evil, advised the only course a sane man in his case must -follow. -</p> -<p> -'Make haste, child!' the woman urged him breathlessly. 'Quick, or it -will be too late.' -</p> -<p> -He looked beyond her at the others crowding there, to meet glances that -seemed to invite, to urge, and from one bloated face, which he -recognized for Benvenuto's, came an eloquent wink, whilst the fellow -jerked a dirty thumb backwards towards the door in a gesture there was -no misunderstanding. Then, as if Bellarion's sudden resolve had been -reflected in his face, the press before him parted, men and women -shouldered and elbowed a way for him. He plunged forward. The company -closed behind him, opening farther ahead, closed again as he advanced -and again opened before him, until his way to the door was clear. And -behind him he could hear the young officer's voice raised above the din -in oaths and imprecations, urging his men-at-arms to clear a way with -their pikes, calling upon those other soldiers lounging there to lend a -hand, so as to make sure, at least, of one of these two rogues. -</p> -<p> -But that rascally company, it seemed, was skilled in the tactics the -occasion needed. Honest men there may have been, and no doubt there were -amongst them. But they were outnumbered; and, moreover, honest though -they might be, they were poor folk, and therefore so far in sympathy -perhaps with an unfortunate lad as not to hinder him even if they would -not actively help. And meanwhile the others, making pretence of being no -more than spectators, solicitous for the condition of the peasant who -had been stabbed, pressed so closely about the officer and his men that -the latter had no room in which to swing their pikes. -</p> -<p> -All this Bellarion guessed, by the sounds behind him, rather than saw. -For he gave no more than a single backward glance at that seething group -as he flung across the threshold, out of that evil-smelling chamber into -the clean air of the square. He turned to the left, and made off towards -the cathedral, his first thought being to seek sanctuary there. Then, -realising that thus he would but walk into a trap, he dived down an -alley just as the officer gained the tavern door, and with a view-halloo -started after him, his two pikemen and the other soldiers clattering at -his heels. -</p> -<p> -As Bellarion raced like a stag before hounds down that narrow street of -mean houses in the shadow of Liutprand's great church, it may well be -that he recalled the Abbot's parting words, '<i>Pax multa in cella, foris -autem plurima bella</i>,' and wished himself back in the tranquillity of -the cloisters, secure from the perils and vexations of secular -existence. -</p> -<p> -This breathless flight of his seemed to him singularly futile and -purposeless. He knew what he was running from; but not what he might be -running to, nor indeed whither to run at all. And for escape, knowledge -of the latter is as important as of the former. Had not instinct—the -animal instinct of self-preservation—been stronger than his reason, -he would have halted, saved his breath, and waited for his pursuers to -overtake him. For he was too intelligent to wear himself in attempting -to escape the inescapable. Fortunately for him, the instinct of the -hunted animal sent him headlong forward in despite of reason. And -presently there was reason, too, to urge him. This when he realized -that, after all, his pursuers were not as fleet of foot as himself. Be -it from their heavy boots and other accoutrements, be it from his -greater youth and more Spartan habits of life, he was rapidly -outdistancing them, and thus might yet succeed in shaking them off -altogether. Then, too, he reflected that if he kept a straight course in -his flight, he must end by reaching the wall of this accursed city, and -by following this must gain one of the gates into the open country. It -was close on sunset. But there would be at least a full hour yet before -the gates were closed. -</p> -<p> -Heartened, he sped on, and only once was he in any danger. That was when -the straight course he laid himself brought him out upon an open square, -along one side of which ran a long grey building with a noble arcade on -the ground level. There was a considerable concourse of people moving -here both in the open and under the arches, and several turned to stare -at that lithe green figure as it sped past. Caring nothing what any -might think, and concerned only to cross that open space as quickly as -possible, Bellarion gained the narrow streets beyond. Still intent upon -keeping a straight line, he turned neither to right nor to left. And -presently he found himself moving no longer between houses, but along a -grass-grown lane, between high brown walls where the ground underfoot -was soft and moist. He eased the pace a little, to give his aching lungs -relief; nor knew how nearly spent he was until the peace of his -surroundings induced that lessening of effort. It lessened further, -until he was merely walking, panting now, and gasping, and mopping the -sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He had been too reckless, -he now told himself. The pace had been too hot. He should have known -that it must defeat him. Unless by now he had shaken off those pursuers, -or others they might have enlisted—and that was his great -fear—he was a lost man. -</p> -<p> -He came to a standstill, listening. He could hear, he fancied, sounds in -the distance which warned him that the pursuit still held. Panic spurred -his flanks again. But though it might be urgent to resume his flight, it -was more urgent still to pause first to recover breath. -</p> -<p> -He had come to a halt beside a stout oaken door which was studded with -great nails and set in a deep archway in that high wall. To take his -moment's rest he leaned against these solid timbers. And then, to his -amazement, under the weight of his body, the ponderous door swung -inwards, so that he almost fell through it into a space of lawn and -rosebeds narrowly enclosed within tall boxwood hedges which were very -dense and trimly cut. -</p> -<p> -It was as if a miracle had happened, as if that door had been unlocked -for his salvation by supernatural agency. Thus thought he in that moment -of exaggerated reaction from his panic, nor stayed to reflect that in -entering and in closing and bolting that door, he was as likely to -entrap as to deliver himself. There was a deep sill, some two feet above -the ground, on the inner side. On this Bellarion sat down to indulge the -luxury of a sense of security. But not for very long. Presently steps, -quick and numerous, came pattering down that lane, to an accompaniment -of breathless voices. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Bellarion listened, and smiled a little. They would never guess that he -had found this door ajar. They would pass on, continuing their now -fruitless quest, whilst he could linger until night descended. Perhaps -he would spend the night there, and be off in the morning by the time -the gates of the city should have been reopened. -</p> -<p> -Thus he proposed. And then the steps outside came to a sudden halt, and -his heart almost halted with them. -</p> -<p> -'He paused hereabouts,' said a gruff voice. 'Look at the trodden -ground.' -</p> -<p> -That was a shrew-eyed sleuth, thought Bellarion as he listened -fearfully. -</p> -<p> -'Does it matter?' quoth another. 'Will you stand pausing too whilst he -makes off? Come on. He went this way, we know.' -</p> -<p> -'Hold, numskull!' It was the gruff voice again. 'He came this way, but -he went no farther. Bah! Peace, don't argue with me, man. Use your eyes. -It's plain to see. No one has gone past this door to-day. He's here.' -And on the word a heavy blow, as from a pike butt, smote the timbers, -and brought Bellarion to his feet as if he, himself, had been struck. -</p> -<p> -'But this door is always locked, and he could scarcely have climbed the -wall.' -</p> -<p> -'He's here, I say. Don't argue. Two men to guard the door, lest he come -forth again. The rest with me to the palace. Come.' His voice was harsh -and peremptory. There were no further words in answer. Steps moved off -quickly returning up the lane. Steps paced outside the door, and there -was a mutter of voices of the men placed on guard. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion wondered if prayer would help him. He could think of nothing -else that would. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap04"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER IV -<br /><br /> -SANCTUARY</h4> - -<p> -These grounds into which he had stepped through that doorway in the red -wall seemed, so far as the tall hedges of his <i>hortus inclusus</i> would -permit him to discover, to be very spacious. Somewhere in their -considerable extent there would surely be a hiding-place into which he -could creep until the hunt was over. -</p> -<p> -He went forward to investigate, stepping cautiously towards a deep -archway cut in the dense boxwood. In this archway he paused to survey a -prospect that evoked thoughts of Paradise. Beyond a wide sweep of lawn, -whereon two peacocks strutted, sparkled the waters of a miniature lake, -where a pavilion of white marble, whose smooth dome and graceful pillars -suggested a diminutive Roman temple, appeared to float. Access to this -was gained from the shore by an arched marble bridge over whose white -parapet trailing geraniums flamed. -</p> -<p> -From this high place the ground fell away in a flight of two terraces, -and the overflow from the lake went cascading over granite boulders into -tanks of granite set in each of them, with shading vine trellises above -that were heavy now with purple fruit. Below, another emerald lawn was -spread, sheltered on three sides within high walls of yew, fantastically -cut at the summit into the machicolations of an embattled parapet and -bearing at intervals deep arched niches in which marble statues gleamed -white against the dusky green. Here figures sauntered, courtly figures -of men and women more gaudy and glittering in their gay raiment than the -peacocks nearer at hand; and faintly on the still warm air of evening -came the throbbing of a lute which one of them was idly thrumming. -</p> -<p> -Beyond, on the one open side another shallow terrace rose and upon this -a great red house that was half palace, half fortress, flanked at each -side by a massive round tower with covered battlements. -</p> -<p> -So much Bellarion's questing eyes beheld, and then he checked his -breath, for his sharp ears had caught the sound of a stealthy step just -beyond the hedge that screened him. An instant later he was confronted -by a woman, who with something furtive and cautious in her movements -appeared suddenly before him in the archway. -</p> -<p> -For a half-dozen heartbeats they stood thus, each regarding the other; -and the vision of her in that breathless moment was destined never to -fade from Bellarion's mind. She was of middle height, and her -close-fitting gown of sapphire blue laced in gold from neck to waist -revealed her to be slender. There was about her an air of delicate -dignity, of command tempered by graciousness. For the rest, her hair was -of a tawny golden, a shade deeper than the golden threads of the -jewelled caul in which it was confined; her face was small and pale, too -long in the nose, perhaps, for perfect symmetry, yet for that very -reason the more challenging in its singular, elusive beauty. Great -wistful eyes of brown, wide-set and thoughtful, were charged with -questions as they conned Bellarion. They were singularly searching, -singularly compelling eyes, and they drew from him forthwith a frank -confession. -</p> -<p> -'Lady!' he faltered. 'Of your charity! I am pursued.' -</p> -<p> -'Pursued!' She moved a step, and her expression changed. The wistfulness -was replaced by concern in those great sombre eyes. -</p> -<p> -'I am likely to be hanged if taken,' he added to quicken the excellent -emotions he detected. -</p> -<p> -'By whom are you pursued?' -</p> -<p> -'An officer of the Captain of Justice and his men.' -</p> -<p> -He would have added more. He would have said something to assure her -that in seeking her pity he sought it for an innocent man betrayed by -appearances. But she gave signs that her pity needed no such stimulant. -She made a little gesture of distraction, clasping her long, tapering -hands over which the tight, blue sleeves descended to the knuckles. She -flung a swift, searching glance behind her, from the green archway to -the open spaces. -</p> -<p> -'Come,' she said, and beckoned him forward. 'I will hide you.' And then -on a note of deeper anxiety, for which he blessed her tender, charitable -heart, she added: 'If you are found here, all is lost. Crouch low and -follow me.' -</p> -<p> -Obediently he followed, almost on all fours, creeping beside a -balustrade of mellow brick that stood breast high to make a parapet for -the edge of that very spacious terrace. -</p> -<p> -Ahead of him the lady moved sedately and unhurried, thereby discovering -to Bellarion virtues of mental calm and calculating wit. A fool, he told -himself, would have gone in haste, and thus provoked attention and -inquiry. -</p> -<p> -They came in safety to the foot of the arched marble bridge, which -Bellarion now perceived to be crossed by broad steps, ascending to a -platform at the summit, and descending thence again to the level of the -temple on the water. -</p> -<p> -'Wait. Here we must go with care.' She turned to survey the gardens -below, and as she looked he saw her blench, saw the golden-brown eyes -dilate as if in fear. He could not see what she saw—the glint of arms -upon hurrying men emerging from the palace. But the guess he made went -near enough to the fact before she cried out: 'Too late! If you ascend -now you will be seen.' And she told him of the soldiers. Again she gave -evidence of her shrewd sense. 'Do you go first,' she bade him, 'and on -hands and knees. If I follow I may serve as a screen for you, and we -must hope they will not see you.' -</p> -<p> -'The hope,' said Bellarion, 'is slender as the screen your slenderness -would afford me, lady.' He was lying now flat on the ground at her feet. -'If only it had pleased Heaven to make you as fat as you are charitable, -I'd not hesitate. As it is, I think I see a better way.' -</p> -<p> -She stared down at him, a little frown puckering her white brow. But for -the third time in that brief space she proved herself a woman whose mind -seized upon essentials and disregarded lesser things. -</p> -<p> -'A better way? What way, then?' -</p> -<p> -He had been using his eyes. Beyond the domed pavilion a tongue of land -thrust out into the lake, from which three cypresses rose in black -silhouette against the afterglow of sunset, whilst a little alder-bush -its branches trailing in the water blunted the island's point. -</p> -<p> -'This way,' said Bellarion, and went writhing like an eel in the -direction of the water. -</p> -<p> -'Where will you go?' she cried; and added sharply as he reached the -edge: 'It is very deep; two fathoms at the shallowest.' -</p> -<p> -'So much the better,' said Bellarion. 'They'll be the less likely to -seek me in it.' -</p> -<p> -He took a succession of deep breaths to prepare himself for the long -submersion. -</p> -<p> -'Ah, but wait!' she cried on a strained note. 'Tell me, at least ...' -</p> -<p> -She broke off with a catch in her breath. He was gone. He had slipped -in, taking the water quietly as an otter, and save for the wave that -sped across the lake no sign of him remained. -</p> -<p> -The lady stood breathlessly at gaze waiting to see the surface broken by -his emerging head. But she waited vainly and in growing alarm. The -moments passed. Voices behind her became audible and grew in volume. The -men-at-arms were advancing swiftly, the courtiers following to see the -sport their captain promised. -</p> -<p> -Suddenly from the alder-bush on the island's point a startled water-hen -broke forth in squawking terror, and went scudding across the lake, its -feet trailing along the water into which it finally splashed again -within a yard of the farther shore. From within the bush itself some -slight momentary disturbance sent a succession of ripples across the -lesser ripples whipped up by the evening breeze. Then all grew still -again, including the alarms of the watching lady who had perceived and -read these signs. -</p> -<p> -She drew closer about her white, slender shoulders a little mantle edged -with miniver, and moved like one impelled by natural curiosity to meet -the soldiers who came surging up the terrace steps. There were four of -them, led by that same young officer who had invaded the hostelry of the -Stag in quest of Lorenzaccio. -</p> -<p> -'What is this?' the lady greeted him, her tone a little hard as if his -abrupt invasion of her garden were in itself an offence. 'What are you -seeking here?' -</p> -<p> -'A man, madonna,' the captain answered her shortly, having at the moment -no breath for more. -</p> -<p> -Her sombre eyes went past him to dwell upon the three glittering -gallants in the courtly group of five that followed at the soldier's -heels. -</p> -<p> -'A man?' she echoed. 'I do not remember to have seen such a portent -hereabouts in days.' -</p> -<p> -Of the three at whom the shaft of her irony was directed two laughed -outright in shameless sycophancy; the third flushed scarlet, his glance -resentful. He was the youngest by some years, and still a boy. He had -her own brown eyes and tawny hair, and otherwise resembled her, save -that his countenance lacked the firm strength that might be read in -hers. His slim, graceful, stripling figure was gorgeously arrayed in a -kilted tunic of gold brocade with long, green, deeply foliated sleeves, -the ends of which reached almost to his toes. His girdle was of hammered -gold whence hung a poniard with a jewelled hilt, and a ruby glowed in -his bulging cap of green silk. One of his legs was cased in green, the -other in yellow, and he wore a green shoe on the yellow foot, and a -yellow on the green. This, in the sixteenth year of his age, was the -Lord Gian Giacomo Paleologo, sovereign Marquis of Montferrat. -</p> -<p> -His two male companions were Messer Corsario, his tutor, a foxy-faced -man of thirty, whose rich purple gown would have been more proper to a -courtier than a pedant, and the Lord Castruccio da Fenestrella, a young -man of perhaps five and twenty, very gorgeous in a scarlet houppelande, -and not unhandsome, despite his pallid cheeks, thin lank hair, and -rather shifty eyes. It was upon him that Giacomo now turned in -peevishness. -</p> -<p> -'Do not laugh, Castruccio.' -</p> -<p> -Meanwhile the captain was flinging out an arm in command to his -followers. 'Two of you to search the enclosure yonder about the gate. -Beat up the hedges. Two of you with me.' He swung to the lady before she -could answer her brother. 'You have seen no one, highness?' -</p> -<p> -Her highness was guilty of an evasion. 'Should I not tell you if I had?' -</p> -<p> -'Yet a man certainly entered here not many minutes since by the -garden-door.' -</p> -<p> -'You saw him enter?' -</p> -<p> -'I saw clear signs that he had entered.' -</p> -<p> -'Signs? What signs?' -</p> -<p> -He told her. Her mobile lips expressed a doubt before she uttered it. -</p> -<p> -'A poor warrant that for this intrusion, Ser Bernabó.' -</p> -<p> -The captain grew uncomfortable. 'Highness, you mistake my motives.' -</p> -<p> -'I hope I do,' she answered lightly, and turned her shoulder to him. -</p> -<p> -He commanded his two waiting followers. The others were already in the -enclosed garden. 'To the temple!' -</p> -<p> -At that she turned again, her eyes indignant. 'Without my leave? The -temple, sir, is my own private bower.' -</p> -<p> -The captain, hesitated, ill-at-ease. 'Hardly at present, highness. It is -in the hands of the workmen; and this fellow may be hiding there.' -</p> -<p> -'He is not. He could not be in the temple without my knowledge. I am but -come from there.' -</p> -<p> -'Your memory, highness, is at fault. As I approached, you were coming -along the terrace from the enclosed garden.' -</p> -<p> -She flushed under the correction. And there was a pause before she -slowly answered him: 'Your eyes are too good, Bernabó.' In a tone that -made him change countenance she added: 'I shall remember it, together -with your reluctance to accept my word.' Contemptuously she dismissed -him. 'Pray, make your search without regard for me.' -</p> -<p> -The captain stood a moment hesitating. Then he bowed stiffly from the -hips, tossed his head in silent command to his men, and so led them off, -over the marble bridge. -</p> -<p> -After he had drawn blank, like the soldiers he had sent to search the -enclosure, he returned, baffled, with his four fellows at his heels. The -Princess Valeria, wandered now in company with those other gay ones -along the terrace by the balustrade. -</p> -<p> -'You come empty-handed, then,' she rallied him. -</p> -<p> -'I'll stake my life he entered the garden,' said the captain sullenly. -</p> -<p> -'You are wise in staking something of no value.' -</p> -<p> -He disregarded alike the taunt and the titter it drew from her -companions. 'I must report to his highness. Do you say positively, -madonna, that you did not see this fellow?' -</p> -<p> -'Lord, man! Do you still presume to question me? Besides, if you're so -confident, why waste time in questions? Continue your search.' -</p> -<p> -The captain addressed himself to her companions. 'You, sirs and ladies, -did you have no glimpse of this knave—a tall youngster, dressed in -green?' -</p> -<p> -'In green!' cried the Lady Valeria. 'Now that is interesting. In green? -A dryad, perhaps; or, perhaps my brother here.' -</p> -<p> -The captain shook his head. 'That is not possible.' -</p> -<p> -'Nor am I in green,' added the young marquis. 'Nor have I been outside -the garden. She mocks you, Messer Bernabó. It is her cursed humour. We -have seen no one.' -</p> -<p> -'Nor you, Messer Corsario?' Pointedly now the captain addressed the -pedant, as by his years and office the likeliest, to return him a -serious answer. -</p> -<p> -'Indeed, no,' the gentleman replied. 'But then,' he added, 'we were some -way off, as you observed. Madonna, however, who was up here, asserts -that she saw no one.' -</p> -<p> -'Ah! But does she so assert it?' the captain insisted. -</p> -<p> -The Lady Valeria looked him over in chill disdain. 'You all heard what I -said. Repetition is a weariness.' -</p> -<p> -'You see,' the captain appealed to them. -</p> -<p> -Her brother came to his assistance. 'Why can't you answer plainly, and -have done, Valeria? Why must you forever remember to be witty? Why can't -you just say "no"?' -</p> -<p> -'Because I've answered plainly enough already, and my answer has been -disregarded. Ser Bernabó shall have no opportunity to repeat an offence -I am not likely to forget.' She turned away. 'Come, Dionara, and you, -Isotta. It is growing chill.' -</p> -<p> -With her ladies obediently following her she descended towards the lower -gardens and the palace. -</p> -<p> -Messer Bernabó stroked his chin, a man nonplussed. The Lord Castruccio -chided him. -</p> -<p> -'You're a fool, Bernabó, to anger her highness. Besides, man, what -mare's nest are you hunting?' -</p> -<p> -The soldier was pale with vexation. 'You saw as I did that, as we -crossed the gardens, her highness was coming from that enclosure.' -</p> -<p> -'Yes, booby,' said Corsario, 'and we saw as you did that she came alone. -If a man entered by that gate as you say, he got no farther than the -enclosed garden, and this your men have searched already. You gain -nothing by betraying suspicions. Who and what do you suppose this man?' -</p> -<p> -'Suppose! I know.' -</p> -<p> -'What do you know?' -</p> -<p> -'That he is a rogue, a brigand scoundrel, associate of Lorenzaccio da -Trino who slipped through our fingers an hour ago.' -</p> -<p> -'By the Host!' cried Corsario, in genuine surprise. 'I thought ...' He -checked abruptly, and dissembled the break by a laugh. 'And can you -dream that the Lady Valeria would harbour a robber?' -</p> -<p> -'Can I dream, can any man dream, what the Lady Valeria will do?' -</p> -<p> -'I could dream that she'll put your eyes out if ever the power is hers,' -lisped the Lord of Fenestrella with the malice that was of his nature. -'You heard her say they are too good, and that she'll remember it. You -should be less ready to tell her all you see. He is a fool who helps to -make a woman wise.' -</p> -<p> -The Marquis laughed to applaud his friend's philosophy, and his glance -approved him fawningly. -</p> -<p> -The young soldier considered them. -</p> -<p> -'Sirs, I will resume my search.' -</p> -<p> -When they had searched until night closed in upon the world, -investigating every hedge and bush that might afford concealment, the -captain came to think that either he had been at fault in concluding -that the fugitive had sought shelter in the garden, or else the rogue -had found some way out and was now beyond their reach. -</p> -<p> -He retired crestfallen, and the three gentlemen who had accompanied his -search and who did not conceal their amusement at its failure went in to -supper. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap05"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER V -<br /><br /> -THE PRINCESS</h4> - -<p> -At about the time that the young Lord of Montferrat was sitting down -belatedly to table with his tutor and his gentleman-in-waiting, a very -bedraggled and chilled Bellarion, who for two hours had been standing -immersed to the chin in water, his head amid the branches of the -alder-bush, came cautiously forth at last. He ventured no farther, -however, than the shallow tongue of land behind the marble pavilion, -ready at the first alarm to plunge back into his watery concealment. -</p> -<p> -There he lay, shivering in the warm night, and taking stock of his -plight, an exercise which considerably diminished him in his -self-confidence and self-esteem. -</p> -<p> -'Experience,' he had been wont to say—being rather addicted, I -gather, to the making of epigrammatic formulæ—'is the hornbook of -fools, unnecessary for the practical purposes of life to the man of -wit.' -</p> -<p> -It is possible that he was tempted to revise this dictum in the light of -the events of that disastrous day, recognising that a little of the -worldly experience he despised might have saved him most if not all of -its disasters. If he admitted this without yet admitting the fallacy of -his aphorism, it was only to reach a conclusion even more humiliating. -He had strayed from lack of experience, therefore it followed, he told -himself, that he was a fool. That is one of the dangers of reasoning by -syllogism. -</p> -<p> -He had accepted the companionship of a man whose face pronounced him a -scoundrel, and whose various actions in the course of the day confirmed -the message of his face, and this for no better reason than that the man -wore a Franciscan's frock. If his sense did not apprise him that a -Franciscan's habit does not necessarily cover a Saint Francis, there was -a well-known proverb—<i>cucullum non facit -monachum</i>—which he might have remembered. Because sense and -memory had alike failed him, he had lost his purse, he had lost the -letter which was his passport for the long and arduous journey before -him, he had narrowly escaped losing his liberty, and he would be lucky -if he were quit of all this mischief without losing his life. The lesser -evils of the ruin of a serviceable suit of clothes and the probability -of taking a rheum as the result of his immersion went for the moment -disregarded. -</p> -<p> -Next he considered the rashness, the senselessness, of his seeking -sanctuary in this garden. Was worldly experience really necessary, he -wondered, to teach a man that the refuge of which he does not know the -exit may easily become a trap? Had he not excelled at the Grazie as a -chess-player from his care and ability in pondering the moves that must -follow the immediate one? Had he read—amongst other works on the -art of war which had ever held his mind in fascination—the 'De Re -Militari' of Silvius Faustus to so little purpose that he could not -remember one of its first axioms, to the effect that he is an imprudent -leader who goes into action without making sure that his line of retreat -is open? -</p> -<p> -By such questions as these did Bellarion chastise himself as he crouched -shivering in the dark. Still lower did he crouch, making himself one -with the earth itself, when presently a moon, like a golden slice of -melon, emerged from behind the black bulk of the palace, and shed a -ghostly radiance upon those gardens. He set himself then at last to seek -a course by which he might extricate himself from this trap and from -this city of Casale. -</p> -<p> -He was still far from any solution of that problem when a sound of -voices recalled him to more immediate things. Two figures mounting the -steps of the terrace had to him the appearance of two black human -silhouettes that were being slowly pushed up out of the ground. Their -outline defined them for women, even before he made out their voices to -be feminine. He wondered would one of them be the gracious and beautiful -lady who had given him sanctuary, a lady whose like hitherto he had seen -only painted on canvas above altars and in mural frescoes, the existence -of whose living earthly counterparts had been to him a matter of some -subconscious doubt. -</p> -<p> -At the height of the bridge, so tremulously reflected in silver on the -black water below, the ladies paused, speaking the while in subdued -voices. Then they came down the nearer steps and vanished into the -temple, whence presently one of them emerged upon that narrow, shallow -promontory, calling softly, and very vaguely: -</p> -<p> -'Olà! Olà! Messer! Messer!' -</p> -<p> -He recognised the voice, and recognising it realised that its quality -was individual and unforgettable. -</p> -<p> -To the Lady Valeria as she stood there, it seemed that a part of the -promontory's clay at her feet heaved itself up amorphously, writhed into -human shape, and so resolved itself into the man she sought. She checked -a startled outcry, as she understood the nature of this materialisation. -</p> -<p> -'You will be very wet, sir, and cold.' Her voice was gentle and -solicitous, very different from that in which she had addressed her -brother's companions and the captain. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion was quite frank. 'As wet as a drowned man, and very nearly as -cold.' And he added: 'I would I could be sure I shall not yet be hung up -to dry.' -</p> -<p> -The lady laughed softly at his rueful humour. 'Nay, now, we have brought -the means to make you dry more comfortably. But it was very rash of you -to have entered here without first making sure that you were not -observed.' -</p> -<p> -'I was not observed, madonna. Else be sure I should not have entered.' -</p> -<p> -He caught in the gloom the sound of her breath indrawn with the hiss of -sudden apprehension. 'You were not observed? And yet ... Oh, it is just -as I was fearing.' And then, more briskly, and before he could reply, -'But come,' she urged him. 'We have brought fresh clothes for you. When -you are dry you shall tell me all.' -</p> -<p> -Readily enough he allowed himself to be conducted within the single -circular chamber of the marble pavilion, where Madonna Dionara, her -lady, awaited. The place was faintly lighted by a lantern placed on a -marble table. It contained besides this some chairs that were swathed in -coarse sheets, and a long wooden coffer, carved and painted, in shape -and size like a sarcophagus, from which another such sheet had just been -swept. The three open spaces, between twin pillars facing towards the -palace, were now closed by leather curtains. The circular marble floor -was laid out as a dial, with the hours in Roman figures of carved brass -sunk into the polished surface, a matter this which puzzled him. He was -not to guess that this marble pavilion was a copy in miniature of a -Roman temple of Apollo, and that in the centre of the domed roof there -was a circular opening for the sun, through which its rays so entered -that as the day progressed a time-telling shadow moved across the hours -figured in their circle on the floor. -</p> -<p> -Overhead there was a confusion of poles and scaffolding and trailing -dust-sheets, and in a corner an array of pails and buckets, and all the -litter of suspended painters' work. Dimly, on one of the walls, he could -make out a fresco that was half painted, the other half in charcoal -outline. -</p> -<p> -On the table, which was swathed like all the other furnishings, the -lantern revealed a bundle of red garments lately loosed from a confining -cloak of black. Into these he was bidden to change at once. Red, he was -told, had been deliberately chosen because all that the captain seemed -to know of him was that he had been dressed in green. So that not merely -would his protectress render him dry and warm again; she would disguise -him. The ladies meanwhile would keep watch in the garden immediately -below. They had brought a lute. If one of them should sing to it, this -would mean that she sounded the alarm, and he must hide in the coffer, -taking with him everything that might betray his presence, including the -lantern which he must extinguish. Flint and steel and tinder had not -been forgotten, so that light might be rekindled when the danger was -overpast. Her highness raised the lid of the coffer to reveal to him the -mechanism of the snap lock. This was released, of course, by the key, -which should then be withdrawn. Provided he did this, once he allowed -the lid to close upon him, none would be able to open it from the -outside; whilst from the inside it was an easy matter, even in the dark, -to release the catch. Meanwhile the keyhole would provide him with -sufficient air and at the same time permit him to judge by sounds of -what was happening. The wet garments he removed were to be made into a -bundle and dropped into the coffer, whence they would afterwards be -taken and destroyed. Finally he was given ten minutes in which to make -the change. -</p> -<p> -Abruptly he found himself alone, and so impressed by her commands that -already his fingers were swiftly untrussing his points. He went briskly -to work, first to strip himself, then to rub himself dry and restore his -chilled circulation, for which purpose he heedlessly employed the black -cloak in which the fresh garments had been bundled. Then he set about -donning that scarlet raiment of fine quality and modish fashion, all the -while lost in wonder of her graciousness and resource. She revealed -herself, he reflected, as a woman fit to lead and to command, a woman -with a methodical mind and a well-ordered intelligence which many a -captain of men might envy. And she revealed herself, too, as intensely -womanly, an angel of compassion. Although clearly a lady of great rank, -she nevertheless went to so much pains and thought to save a wretched -fugitive like himself, and this without pausing to ascertain if he were -worthy of compassion. -</p> -<p> -As abruptly as she had left him did she now return, even as he was -completing his hasty toilet. And she came alone, having left her lady -with the lute on guard below. -</p> -<p> -He stood now before her a brave figure, despite his tumbled black locks -and the fact that the red hose of fine cloth was a little short for his -long shanks, and therefore a little cramping. But the kilted tunic -became him well with its girdle of steel and leather which he was -buckling even as she entered. -</p> -<p> -She swept forward to the table, and came straight to business. -</p> -<p> -'And now, sir, your message?' -</p> -<p> -His fingers stood arrested on the buckle, and his solemn dark eyes -opened wide as they searched her pale face. -</p> -<p> -'Message?' quoth he slowly. -</p> -<p> -'Message, yes.' Her tone betrayed the least impatience. 'What has -happened? What has become of Ser Giuffredo? Why has he not been near me -this fortnight? What did the Lord Barbaresco bid you tell me? Come, -come, sir. You need not hesitate. Surely you know that I am the Princess -Valeria of Montferrat?' -</p> -<p> -All that he understood of this was that he stood in a princely presence, -before the august sister of the sovereign Marquis of Montferrat. Had he -been reared in the world he might have been awe-stricken by the -circumstances. But he knew princes and princesses only from books -written by chroniclers and historians, who treat them familiarly enough. -If anything about her commanded his respect, it was her slim grace and -her rather elusive beauty, a beauty that is not merely of colour and of -features, but of the soul and mind alive in these. -</p> -<p> -His hands fell limply away from the buckle, which he had made fast at -length. His lively countenance looked almost foolish as dimly seen in -the yellow light of the lantern. -</p> -<p> -'Madonna, I do not understand. I am no messenger. I ...' -</p> -<p> -'You are no messenger?' Her tawny head was thrust forward, her dark eyes -glowed. 'Were you not sent to me? Answer, man! Were you not sent?' -</p> -<p> -'Not other than by an inscrutable Providence, which may desire to -preserve me for better things than a rope.' -</p> -<p> -The whimsical note of the answer may have checked her stirring anger. -There was a long pause in which she pondered him with eyes that were -become unfathomable. Mechanically she loosed the long black cloak that -covered her low-cut sheathing gown of sapphire blue. -</p> -<p> -'Why, then, did you come? Was it to spy ... No, no. You are not that. A -spy would have gone differently to work. What are you, then?' -</p> -<p> -'Just a poor scholar on his travels, studying life at first hand and a -trifle more rapidly than he can digest it. As for how I came into your -garden, let me tell you.' -</p> -<p> -And he told her with admirable succinctness the sorry tale of that day's -events. It drove the last vestige of wrath from her face, and drew the -ghost of a smile to the corners of a mouth that could be as tender as -imperious. Observing it, he realised that whilst she had given him -sanctuary under a misapprehension, yet she was not likely to visit her -obvious disappointment too harshly upon him. -</p> -<p> -'And I thought ...' She broke off and trilled a little laugh, between -mirth and bitterness. 'It was a lucky chance for you, master fugitive.' -She considered him again, and it may be that his stalwart young male -beauty had a hand unconsciously in shaping her resolves concerning him. -'What am I to do with you?' she asked him. -</p> -<p> -He answered simply and directly, speaking not as a poor nameless scholar -to a high-born princess, but as equal to equal, as a young man to a -young woman. -</p> -<p> -'If you are what your face tells me, madonna, you will let me profit by -an error that entails no less for yourself beyond that of these -garments, which, if you wish it ...' -</p> -<p> -She waved the proposal aside before it was uttered. 'Pooh, the garments. -What are they?' She frowned thoughtfully. 'But I named names to you.' -</p> -<p> -'Did you? I have forgotten them.' And in answer to the hard incredulity -of her stare, he explained himself. 'A good memory, madonna, lies as -much in an ability to forget as in a capacity to remember. And I have an -excellent memory. By the time I shall have stepped out of this garden I -shall have no recollection that I was ever in it.' -</p> -<p> -Slowly she spoke after a pause. 'If I were sure that I can trust you...' -She left it there. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion smiled. 'Unless you are certain that you can, you had better -call the guard. But then, how could you be sure that in that case I -should not recall the names you named, which are now forgotten?' -</p> -<p> -'Ah! You threaten!' -</p> -<p> -The sharp tone, the catch in her breath, the sudden movement of her hand -to her breast showed him that his inference was right. -</p> -<p> -This lady was engaged in secret practices. And the inference itself -displayed the swift activity of his wits; just as his answer displayed -them. -</p> -<p> -'Nay, lady. I show you only that trust me you must, since if you -mistrust me you can no more order my arrest than you can set me free.' -</p> -<p> -'My faith, sir, you are shrewd, for one who's convent-bred.' -</p> -<p> -'There's a deal of shrewdness, lady, to be learned in convents.' And -then, whether the beauty and charm of her so wrought upon him as to -breed in him the desire to serve her, or whether he merely offered a -bargain, a return for value received and to be received, it is probable -that he did not know himself. But he made his proposal. 'If you would -trust me, madonna, you might even use me, and so repay yourself.' -</p> -<p> -'Use you?' -</p> -<p> -'As a messenger. In the place of him whom you expected. That is, if you -have messages to send, as I think you should have.' -</p> -<p> -'You think it?' -</p> -<p> -'From what you have said.' -</p> -<p> -'I said so little.' She was clearly suspicious. -</p> -<p> -'But I inferred so much. Too much, perhaps. Let me expose my reasoning.' -The truth is he was a little vain of it. 'You expected a messenger from -one Lord Barbaresco. You left the garden-gate ajar to facilitate his -entrance when he came, and you were on the watch for him, and alone. -Your ladies, one of whom at least is in your confidence, were beguiling -the gentlemen and keeping them in the lower garden, whilst you loitered -watchful by the hedged enclosure. Hence I argue on your part anxiety and -secrecy. You were anxious because no message had come for a fortnight, -nor had Messer Giuffredo, the usual messenger been seen. Almost you may -have feared that some evil had befallen Messer Giuffredo, if not the -Lord Barbaresco, himself. Which shows that the secret practices of which -these messages are the subject may themselves be dangerous. Do I read -the signs fluently enough?' -</p> -<p> -There was little need for his question. Her face supplied the answer. -</p> -<p> -'Too fluently, I think. Too fluently for one who is no more than you -represent yourself.' -</p> -<p> -'It is, madonna, that you are not accustomed to the exercise of pure -reason. It is rare enough.' -</p> -<p> -'Pure reason!' Her scorn where his fatuity had expected wonder was like -a searing iron. 'And do you know, sir, what pure reason tells me?' -</p> -<p> -'I can believe anything, madonna,' he said, alluding to the tone she -used with him. -</p> -<p> -'That you were sent to set a trap for me.' -</p> -<p> -He perceived exactly by what steps she had come to that conclusion. He -smiled reassuringly, and shook his moist head. -</p> -<p> -'The reasoning is not pure enough. If I had been so sent, should I have -been pursued and hunted? And should I not have come prepared with some -trivial message, to assure you that I am the messenger you were so very -ready to believe me?' -</p> -<p> -She was convinced. But still she hesitated. -</p> -<p> -'But why, concluding so much and so accurately, should you offer to -serve me?' -</p> -<p> -'Say from gratitude to one who has saved perhaps my life.' -</p> -<p> -'But I did so under a misapprehension. That should compel no gratitude.' -</p> -<p> -'I like to think, madonna, that you would have shown me the same charity -even if there had been no misapprehension. I am the more grateful for -what you have done because I choose to believe that in any case you -would have done it. Then there is this handsome suit to be paid for, -and, lastly and chiefly, the desire to serve a lady in need of service, -which I believe is not an altogether strange desire in a man of -sensibility. It has happened aforetime.' -</p> -<p> -That was as near as he would go to the confession that she had -beglamoured him. Since it was a state of mind that did not rest upon -pure reason, it is one to which he would have been reluctant to confess -even to himself. -</p> -<p> -She pondered him, and it seemed to him that her searching glance laid -bare all that he was and all that he was likely to be. -</p> -<p> -'These are slight and unworldly reasons,' she said at last. -</p> -<p> -'I am possibly an unworldly fellow.' -</p> -<p> -'You must be, indeed, to propose knight-errantry.' -</p> -<p> -But her need, as he had already surmised and as he was later fully to -understand, was great and urgent. It may almost have seemed to her, -indeed, as if Providence had brought her this young man, not only for -his own salvation, but for hers. -</p> -<p> -'The service may entail risk,' she warned him, 'and a risk far greater -than any you have run to-night.' -</p> -<p> -'Risk sweetens enterprise,' he answered, 'and wit can conquer it.' -</p> -<p> -Her smile broadened, almost she laughed. 'You have a high confidence in -your wit, sir.' -</p> -<p> -'Whereas, you would say, the experience of the last four and twenty -hours should make me humble. Its lesson, believe me, has not been lost. -I am not again to be misled by appearances.' -</p> -<p> -'Well, here's to test you, then.' And she gave him her message, which -was after all a very cautious one, the betrayal of which could hardly -harm her. He was to seek the Lord Barbaresco, of whom she told him -nothing beyond the fact that the gentleman dwelt in a house behind the -cathedral, which any townsman would point out to him. He was to inquire -after his health, about which, he was to add, the absence of news was -making her uneasy. As a credential to the Lord Barbaresco she gave him -the broken half of a gold ducat. -</p> -<p> -'To-morrow evening,' she concluded, 'you will find the garden-gate ajar -again at about the same hour, and I shall be waiting.' -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap06"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER VI -<br /><br /> -THE WINDS OF FATE</h4> - -<p> -You behold Messer Bellarion treading the giddy slope of high and -mysterious adventure, fortuitously launched upon a course whose end he -was very far from discerning, but which most certainly was not the -University of Pavia, the pursuit of Greek studies, and the recovery of -an unblemished faith. -</p> -<p> -Lorenzaccio da Trino has more to answer for than the acts of brigandage -for which the law pursued him. -</p> -<p> -In the gloom of that September night, after the moon had set, Bellarion, -in raiment which already might be taken to symbolise the altered aim and -purpose of his life, whereof himself, poor straw upon the winds of Fate, -he was as yet unconscious, slipped from a gateway that was no longer -guarded and directed his steps towards the heart of the town. -</p> -<p> -Coming in the Cathedral Square upon a company of the watch, going the -rounds with pikes and lanterns, he staggered a little in his gait and -broke raucously into song to give himself the air of a belated, carefree -reveller. Knowing no bawdy worldly songs proper to a man of his apparent -circumstances and condition, he broke into a Gregorian chant, which he -rendered in anything but the unisonous manner proper to that form of -plain-song. The watch deeming him, as he computed that they would, an -impudent parodist, warned him against disturbing the peace of the night, -and asked who he was, whence he came, and whither he went. -</p> -<p> -Unprepared for these questions, he rose magnificently and rather -incoherently to the occasion. -</p> -<p> -He knew that there was a house of Augustinian fathers in Casale. And -boldly he stated that he had been supping there. Thus launched, his -invention soared. The Prior's brother was married to his sister, and he -had borne messages to the Prior from that same brother who dwelt in -Cigliano, and was, like himself, a subject of the Duke of Savoy. He was -lodged with his cousin-german, the Lord Barbaresco, whose house, having -arrived but that day in Casale, he was experiencing some difficulty in -finding. -</p> -<p> -'Body of Bacchus! Is that the reason?' quoth the leader of the patrol to -the infinite amusement of his men. -</p> -<p> -They were as convinced as he himself was appalled by the fluency of his -lying. Perhaps from that sympathy which men in his supposed state so -commonly command, perhaps from the hope of reward, they volunteered to -escort him to his cousin's dwelling. -</p> -<p> -To the narrow street behind the cathedral of which the Lord Barbaresco's -was the most imposing house, they now conducted him, and loudly they -battered on his lordship's iron-studded door, until from a window -overhead a quavering voice desired to know who knocked. -</p> -<p> -'His lordship's cousin returning home,' replied the officer of the -watch. 'Make haste to open.' -</p> -<p> -There was a mutter of voices in the dark overhead, and Bellarion awaited -fearfully the repudiation that he knew must come. -</p> -<p> -'What cousin?' roared another, deeper voice. 'I am expecting no cousin -at this hour.' -</p> -<p> -'He is angry with me,' Bellarion explained. 'I had promised to return to -sup with him.' He threw back his head, called up into the night in a -voice momentarily clear. 'Although the hour is late, I pray you, cousin, -do not leave me standing here. Admit me and all, all, shall be -explained.' He stressed the verb, which for the Lord Barbaresco should -have one meaning and for the too pertinacious watch another. And then he -added certain mystic words to clinch the matter: 'And bring a ducat to -reward these good fellows. I have promised them a ducat, and have upon -me only half a ducat. The half of a ducat,' he repeated, as if with -drunken insistence. 'And what is half a ducat? No more than a broken -coin.' -</p> -<p> -The soldiers grinned at his drunken whimsicality. There was a long -moment's pause. Then the deep voice above said, 'Wait!' and a casement -slammed. -</p> -<p> -Soon came a rasping of bolts, and the heavy door swung inwards, -revealing a stout man in a purple bedgown, who shaded a candle-flame -with his hand. The light was thrown up into a red fleshly face that was -boldly humorous, with a hooked nose and alert blue eyes under arched -black brows. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion was quick to supply the cue. 'Dear cousin, my excuses. I -should have returned sooner. These good fellows have been most kind to -me in this strange town.' -</p> -<p> -Standing a little in front of the unsuspecting members of the watch, he -met the Lord Barbaresco's searching glance by a grimace of warning. -</p> -<p> -'Give them the ducat for their pains, cousin, and let them go with God.' -</p> -<p> -His lordship came prepared, it seemed. -</p> -<p> -'I thank you, sir,' he said to the antient, 'for your care of my cousin, -a stranger here.' And he dropped a gold coin into the readily projected -palm. He stood aside, his hand upon the edge of the door. 'Come you in, -cousin.' -</p> -<p> -But once alone with his enforced visitor in the stone passage, dimly -lighted by that single candle, his lordship's manner changed. -</p> -<p> -'Who the devil are you, and what the devil do you seek?' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion showed his fine teeth in a broad smile, all sign of his -intoxication vanished. 'If you had not already answered those questions -for yourself, you would neither have admitted me nor parted with your -ducat, sir. I am what you were quick to suppose me. To the watch, I am -your cousin, lodging with you on a visit to Casale. Lest you should -repudiate me, I mentioned the half-ducat as a password.' -</p> -<p> -'It was resourceful of you,' Barbaresco grunted. 'Who sent you?' -</p> -<p> -'Lord! The unnecessary questions that you ask! Why, the Lady Valeria, of -course. Behold!' Under the eyes of Messer Barbaresco he flashed the -broken half of a ducat. -</p> -<p> -His lordship took the golden fragment, and holding it near the -candle-flame read the half of the date inscribed upon it, then returned -it to Bellarion, inviting him at last to come above-stairs. -</p> -<p> -They went up, Barbaresco leading, to a long, low-ceilinged chamber of -the mezzanine, the walls of which were hung with soiled and shabby -tapestries, the floor of which had been unswept for weeks. His lordship -lighted a cluster of candles in a leaden candle-branch, and their golden -light further revealed the bareness of the place, its sparse and -hard-worn furnishings heavy with dust. He drew an armchair to the table -where writing-implements and scattered papers made an untidy litter. He -waved his guest to a seat, and asked his name. -</p> -<p> -'Bellarion.' -</p> -<p> -'I never heard of the family.' -</p> -<p> -'I never heard of it myself. But that's no matter. It's a name that -serves as well as another.' -</p> -<p> -'Ah!' Barbaresco accepted the name as assumed. He brushed the matter -aside by a gesture. 'Your message?' -</p> -<p> -'I bring no message. I come for one. Her highness is distracted by the -lack of news from you, and by the fact that, although she has waited -daily for a fortnight, in all that time Messer Giuffredo has not been -near her.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion was still far from surmising who this Messer Giuffredo might -be or what. But he knew that mention of the name must confirm him in -Barbaresco's eyes, and perhaps lead to a discovery touching the identity -of its owner. Because of the interest which the tawny-headed, -sombre-eyed princess inspired in him, Bellarion was resolved to go -beyond the precise extent of his mission as defined by her. -</p> -<p> -'Giuffre took fright. A weak-stomached knave. He fancied himself -observed when last he came from the palace garden, and nothing would -induce him to go again.' -</p> -<p> -So that whatever the intrigue, Bellarion now perceived, it was not -amorous. Giuffredo clearly was a messenger and nothing more. Barbaresco -himself, with his corpulence and his fifty years, or so, was incredible -as a lover. -</p> -<p> -'Could not another have been sent in his place?' -</p> -<p> -'A messenger, my friend, is not readily found. Besides, nothing has -transpired in the last two weeks of which it was urgently necessary to -inform her highness.' -</p> -<p> -'Surely, it was urgently necessary to inform her highness of just that, -so as to allay her natural anxiety?' -</p> -<p> -Leaning back in his chair, his plump hands, which were red like all the -rest of him that was visible, grasping the ends of its arms, the -gentleman of Casale pondered Bellarion gravely. -</p> -<p> -'You assume a deal of authority, young sir. Who and what are you to be -so deeply in the confidence of her highness?' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion was prepared for the question. 'I am an amanuensis of the -palace, whose duties happen to have brought me closely into touch with -the Princess.' -</p> -<p> -It was a bold lie, but one which he could support at least and at need -by proofs of scholarliness. -</p> -<p> -Barbaresco nodded slowly. -</p> -<p> -'And your precise interest in her highness?' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion's smile was a little deprecating. -</p> -<p> -'Now, what should you suppose it?' -</p> -<p> -'I am not supposing. I am asking.' -</p> -<p> -'Shall we say ... the desire to serve her?' and Bellarion's smile became -at once vague and eloquent. This, taken in conjunction with his -reticence, might seem to imply a romantic attachment. Barbaresco, -however, translated it otherwise. -</p> -<p> -'You have ambitions! So. That is as it should be. Interest is ever the -best spur to endeavour.' -</p> -<p> -And he, too, now smiled; a smile so oily and cynical that Bellarion set -him down at once for a man without ideals, and mistrusted him from that -moment. But he was strategist enough to conceal it, even to reflect -something of that same cynicism in his own expression, so that -Barbaresco, believing him a kindred spirit, should expand the more -freely. And meanwhile he drew a bow at a venture. -</p> -<p> -'That which her highness looks to me to obtain is some explanation of -your ... inaction.' -</p> -<p> -He chose the most non-committal word; but it roused the Lord Barbaresco -almost to anger. -</p> -<p> -'Inaction!' He choked, and his plethoric countenance deepened to purple. -To prove the injustice of the charge, he urged his past activities of -which he thus rendered an account. Luring him thence, by skilful -question, assertion, and contradiction, along the apparent path of -argument upon matters of which he must assume the young man already -fully informed, gradually Bellarion drew from him a full disclosure of -what was afoot. He learnt also a good deal of history of which hitherto -he had been in ignorance, and he increased considerably his not very -elevating acquaintance with the ways of men. -</p> -<p> -It was an evil enough thing which the Princess Valeria had set herself -to combat with the assistance of some dispossessed Guelphic gentlemen of -Montferrat, the chief of whom was this Lord Barbaresco; and it magnified -her in the eyes of Bellarion that she should evince the high courage -necessary for the combat. -</p> -<p> -The extensive and powerful State of Montferrat was ruled at this time by -the Marquis Theodore as regent during the minority of his nephew Gian -Giacomo, son of that great Ottone who had been slain in the Neapolitan -wars against the House of Brunswick. -</p> -<p> -These rulers of Montferrat, from Guglielmo, the great crusader, onwards, -had ever been a warlike race, and Montferrat itself a school of arms. -Nor had their proud belligerent nature been diluted by the blood of the -Paleologi when on the death without male issue of Giovanni the Just a -hundred years before, these dominions had passed to Theodore I, the -younger son of Giovanni's sister Violante, who was married to the -Emperor of the East, Andronicus Comnenus Paleologus. -</p> -<p> -The present Regent Theodore, however, combined with the soldierly -character proper to his house certain qualities of craft and intrigue -rarely found in knightly natures. The fact is, the Marquis Theodore had -been ill-schooled. He had been reared at the splendid court of his -cousin the Duke of Milan, that Gian Galeazzo whom Francesco da Carrara -had dubbed 'the Great Viper,' in allusion as much to the man's nature as -to the colubrine emblem of his house. Theodore had observed and no doubt -admired the subtle methods by which Gian Galeazzo went to work against -those whom he would destroy. If he lacked the godlike power of rendering -them mad, at least he possessed the devilish craft of rendering them by -their own acts detestable, so that in the end it was their own kin or -their own subjects who pulled them down. -</p> -<p> -Witness the manner in which he had so poisoned the mind of Alberto of -Este as to goad him into the brutal murder of almost all his relatives. -It was his aim thus to render him odious to his Ferrarese subjects that -by his extinction Ferrara might ultimately come under the crown of -Milan. Witness how he forged love letters, which he pretended had passed -between the wife and the secretary of his dear friend Francesco Gonzaga, -Lord of Mantua, whereby he infuriated Gonzaga into murdering that innocent -lady—who was Galeazzo's own cousin and sister-in-law—and -tearing the secretary limb from limb upon the rack, so that Mantua rose -against this human wolf who governed there. Witness all those other -Lombard princes whom by fraud and misrepresentation, ever in the guise -of a solicitous and loving friend, he lured into crimes which utterly -discredited them with their subjects. This was an easier and less costly -method of conquest than the equipping of great armies, and also it was -more effective, because an invader who imposes himself by force can -never hope to be so secure or esteemed as one whom the people have -invited to become their ruler. -</p> -<p> -All this the Marquis Theodore had observed and marked, and he had seen -Gian Galeazzo constantly widening his dominions by these means, ever -increasing in power and consequence until in the end he certainly would -have made of all Northern Italy a kingdom for his footstool had not the -plague pursued him into the Castle of Melegnano, where he had shut -himself up to avoid it, and there slain him in the year of grace 1402. -</p> -<p> -Trained in that school, the Marquis Theodore had observed and understood -many things that would have remained hidden from an intelligence less -acute. -</p> -<p> -He understood, for instance, that to rise by the pleasure of the people -is the only way of reaching stable eminence, and that to accomplish -this, noble qualities must be exhibited. For whilst men singly may be -swayed by vicious appeals, collectively they will respond only to -appeals of virtue. -</p> -<p> -Upon this elementary truth, according to Barbaresco, the Marquis -Theodore was founding the dark policy which, from a merely temporary -regent during the minority of his nephew, should render him the absolute -sovereign of Montferrat. By the lavish display of public and private -virtues, by affability towards great and humble, by endowments of -beneficences, by the careful tempering of justice with mercy where this -was publicly desired, he was rendering himself beloved and respected -throughout the state. And step by step with this he was secretly -labouring to procure contempt for his nephew, to whom in the ordinary -course of events he would presently be compelled to relinquish the reins -of government. -</p> -<p> -Nature, unfortunately, had rendered the boy weak. It was a weakness -which training could mend as easily as increase. But to increase it were -directed all the efforts which Theodore took care should be applied. -Corsario the tutor, a Milanese, was a venal scoundrel, unhealthily -ambitious. He kept the boy ignorant of all those arts that mature and -grace the intellect, and confined instruction to matters calculated to -corrupt his mind, his nature, and his morals. Castruccio, Lord of -Fenestrella, the boy's first gentleman-in-waiting, was a vicious and -depraved Savoyard, who had gamed away his patrimony almost before he had -entered upon the enjoyment of it. It was easy to perceive the purpose -for which the Regent had made him the boy's constant and intimate -companion. -</p> -<p> -Here Bellarion, with that assumption of knowledge which had served to -draw Barbaresco into explanations, ventured to interpose a doubt. 'In -that matter, I am persuaded that the Regent overreaches himself. The -people know that he permits Castruccio to remain; and when they settle -accounts with Castruccio they will also present a reckoning to the -Regent.' -</p> -<p> -Barbaresco laughed the argument to scorn. -</p> -<p> -'Either you do not realise Theodore's cunning, or you are insufficiently -observant. Have not representations been made already to the Regent that -Castruccio is no fit companion for the future Lord of Montferrat, or -indeed for any boy? It merely enables Messer Theodore to parade his own -paternal virtues, his gentleness of character, the boy's wilfulness, and -the fact that he is, after all, no more than Regent of Montferrat. He -would dismiss, he protests, Messer Castruccio, but the Prince is so -devoted and attached to him that he would never be forgiven. And, after -all, is that not true?' -</p> -<p> -'Aye, I suppose it is,' Bellarion confessed. -</p> -<p> -Barbaresco was impatient of his dullness. 'Of course it is. This -Castruccio has known how to conquer the boy's love and wonder, by -pretended qualities that fire youth's imagination. The whole world could -hardly have yielded a better tool for the Regent or a worse companion -for the little Prince.' -</p> -<p> -Thus were the aims of the Marquis Theodore revealed to Bellarion, and -the justifications for the movement that was afoot to thwart him. Of -this movement for the salvation of her brother, the Princess Valeria was -the heart and Barbaresco the brain. Its object was to overthrow the -Marquis Theodore and place the government in the hands of a council of -regency during the remainder of Gian Giacomo's minority. Of this council -Barbaresco assumed that he would be the president. -</p> -<p> -Sorrowfully Bellarion expressed a doubt. -</p> -<p> -'The mischief is that the Marquis Theodore is already so well -established in the respect and affection of the people.' -</p> -<p> -Barbaresco reared his head and threw out his chest. 'Heaven will -befriend a cause so righteous.' -</p> -<p> -'My doubt concerns not the supernatural, but the natural means at our -command.' -</p> -<p> -It was a sobering reminder. Barbaresco left the transcendental and -attempted to be practical. Also a subtle change was observable in his -manner. He was no longer glibly frank. He became reserved and vague. -They were going to work, he said, by laying bare the Regent's true -policy. Already they had at least a dozen nobles on their side, and -these were labouring to diffuse the truth. Once it were sufficiently -diffused the rest would follow as inevitably as water runs downhill. -</p> -<p> -And this assurance was all the message that Bellarion was invited to -take back to the Princess. But Bellarion was determined to probe deeper. -</p> -<p> -'That, sir, adds nothing to what the Lady Valeria already knows. It -cannot allay the anxiety in which she waits. She requires something more -definite.' -</p> -<p> -Barbaresco was annoyed. Her highness should learn patience, and should -learn to trust them. But Bellarion was so calmly insistent that at last -Barbaresco angrily promised to summon his chief associates on the -morrow, so that Bellarion might seek from them the further details he -desired on the Lady Valeria's behalf. -</p> -<p> -Content, Bellarion begged a bed for the night, and was conducted to a -mean, poverty-stricken chamber in that great empty house. On a hard and -unclean couch he lay pondering the sad story of a wicked regent, a -foolish boy, and a great-hearted lady, who, too finely reckless to count -the cost of the ill-founded if noble enterprise to which she gave her -countenance, would probably end by destroying herself together with her -empty brother. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap07"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER VII -<br /><br /> -SERVICE</h4> - -<p> -Stimulated by the insistence of this apparently accredited and energetic -representative of the Princess, Messer Barbaresco assembled in his house -in the forenoon of the following day a half-dozen gentlemen who were -engaged with him upon that crack-brained conspiracy against the Regent -of Montferrat. Four of these, including Count Enzo Spigno, were men who -had been exiled because of Guelphic profession, and who had returned by -stealth at Barbaresco's summons. -</p> -<p> -They talked a deal, as such folk will; but on the subject of real means -by which they hoped to prevail they were so vague that Bellarion, boldly -asserting himself, set about provoking revelation. -</p> -<p> -'Sirs, all this leads us nowhere. What, indeed, am I to convey to her -highness? Just that here in Casale at my Lord Barbaresco's house some -gentlemen of Montferrat hold assemblies to discuss her brother's wrongs? -Is that all?' -</p> -<p> -They gaped and frowned at him, and they exchanged dark glances among -themselves, as if each interrogated his neighbour. It was Barbaresco at -last who answered, and with some heat. -</p> -<p> -'You try my patience, sir. Did I not know you accredited by her highness -I would not brook these hectoring airs ...' -</p> -<p> -'If I were not so accredited, there would be no airs to brook.' Thus he -confirmed the impression of one deeper than they in the confidence of -the Lady Valeria. -</p> -<p> -'But this is a sudden impatience on the Lady Valeria's part!' said one. -</p> -<p> -'It is not the impatience that is sudden. But the expression of it. I am -telling you things that may not be written. Your last messenger, -Giuffredo, was not sufficiently in her confidence. How should she have -opened her mind to him? Whilst you, sirs, are all too cautious to -approach her yourselves, lest in a subsequent miscarriage of your aims -there should be evidence to make you suffer with her.' -</p> -<p> -The first part of that assertion he had from themselves; the second was -an inference, boldly expressed to search their intentions. And because -not one of them denied it, he knew what to think—knew that their aims -amounted to more, indeed, than they were pretending. -</p> -<p> -In silence they looked at him as he stood there in a shaft of morning -sunlight that had struggled through the curtain of dust and grime on the -blurred glass of the mullioned window. And then at last, Count Spigno, a -lean, tough, swarthy gentleman, whose expressions had already revealed -him the bitterest enemy there of the Marquis Theodore, loosed a short -laugh. -</p> -<p> -'By the Host! He's in the right.' He swung to Bellarion. 'Sir, we should -deserve the scorn you do not attempt to dissemble if our plans went no -farther than ...' -</p> -<p> -The voices of his fellow conspirators were raised in warning. But he -brushed them contemptuously aside, a bold rash man. -</p> -<p> -'A choicely posted arbalester will ...' -</p> -<p> -He got no further. This time his utterance was smothered by their anger -and alarm. Barbaresco and another laid rough hands upon him, and through -the general din rang the opprobrious epithets they bestowed upon him, of -which 'fool' and 'madman' were the least. Amongst them they cowed him, -and when it was done they turned again to Bellarion who had not stirred -from where he stood, maintaining a frown of pretended perplexity between -his level black brows. -</p> -<p> -It was Barbaresco, oily and crafty, who sought to dispel, to deviate any -assumption Bellarion might have formed. -</p> -<p> -'Do not heed his words, sir. He is forever urging rash courses. He, too, -is impatient. And impatience is a dangerous mood to bring to such -matters as these.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion was not deceived. They would have him believe that Count -Spigno had intended no more than to urge a course, whereas what he -perceived was that the Count had been about to disclose the course -already determined, and had disclosed enough to make a guess of the -remainder easy. No less did he perceive that to betray his apprehension -of this fact might be never to leave that house alive. He could read it -in their glances, as they waited to learn from his answer how much he -took for granted. -</p> -<p> -Therefore he used a deep dissimulation. He shrugged ill-humouredly. -</p> -<p> -'Yet patience, sirs, can be exceeded until from a virtue it becomes a -vice. I have more respect for an advocate of rash courses'—and he -inclined his head slightly to Count Spigno—'than for those who -practise an excessive caution whilst time is slipping by.' -</p> -<p> -'That, sir,' Barbaresco rebuked him, 'is because you are young. With -age, if you are spared, you will come to know better.' -</p> -<p> -'Meanwhile,' said Bellarion, completely to reassure them, 'I see plainly -enough that your message to her highness is scarce worth carrying.' And -he flung himself down into his chair with simulated petulance. -</p> -<p> -The conference came to an end soon afterwards, and the conspirators went -their ways again singly. Shortly after the departure of the last of -them, Bellarion took his own, promising that he would return that night -to Messer Barbaresco's house to inform him of anything her highness -might desire him to convey. One last question he asked his host at -parting. -</p> -<p> -'The pavilion in the palace gardens is being painted. Can you say by -whom?' -</p> -<p> -Barbaresco's eyes showed that he found the question odd. But he answered -that most probably one Gobbo, whose shop was in the Via del Cane, would -be entrusted with the work. -</p> -<p> -Into that shop of Gobbo's, found by inquiry, Bellarion penetrated an -hour later. Old Gobbo himself, amid the untidy litter of the place, was -engaged in painting an outrageous scarlet angel against a star-flecked -background of cobalt blue. Bellarion's first question ascertained that -the painting of the pavilion was indeed in Gobbo's hands. -</p> -<p> -'My two lads are engaged upon it now, my lord.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion winced at the distinguished form of address, which took him by -surprise until he remembered his scarlet suit with its imposing girdle -and gold-hilted dagger. -</p> -<p> -'The work progresses all too slowly,' said he sharply. -</p> -<p> -'My lord! My lord!' The old man was flung into agitation. 'It is a -beautiful fresco, and ...' -</p> -<p> -'They require assistance, those lads of yours.' -</p> -<p> -'Assistance!' The old man flung his arms to heaven. 'Where shall I find -assistants with the skill?' -</p> -<p> -'Here,' said Bellarion, and tapped his breast with his forefinger. -</p> -<p> -Amazed, Gobbo considered his visitor more searchingly. Bellarion leaned -nearer, and lowered his voice to a tone of confidence. -</p> -<p> -'I'll be frank with you, Ser Gobbo. There is a lady of the palace, a -lady of her highness ...' He completed his sentence, by roguishly -closing an eye. -</p> -<p> -Gobbo's lean brown old face cracked across in a smile, as becomes an old -artist who finds himself face to face with romance. -</p> -<p> -'You understand, I see,' said Bellarion, smiling in his turn. 'It is -important that I should have a word with this lady. There are grave -matters ... I'll not weary you with these and my own sad story. Perform -a charitable act to your own profit.' -</p> -<p> -But Gobbo's face had grown serious. 'If it were discovered ...' he was -beginning. -</p> -<p> -'It shall not be. That I promise you full confidently. And to compensate -you ... five ducats.' -</p> -<p> -'Five ducats!' It was a great sum, and confirmed Master Gobbo in the -impression made by Bellarion's appearance, dress, and manner, that here -he dealt with a great lord. 'For five ducats ...' He broke off, and -scratched his head. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion perceived that he must not be given time for thought. -</p> -<p> -'Come, my friend, lend me the clothes for the part and a smock such as -is proper, and do you keep these garments of mine in pledge for my safe -return and for the five ducats that shall then be yours.' -</p> -<p> -He knew how to be irresistible, and he was fortunate in his present -victim. He went off a half-hour or so later in the garb of his suddenly -assumed profession and bearing a note from Gobbo to his sons. -</p> -<p> -Late in the afternoon Bellarion lounged in the pavilion in the palace -garden to which his pretence had gained him easy admission. He mixed -some colours for the two young artists under their direction. But beyond -that he did nothing save wait for sunset when the light would fail and -the two depart. Himself, though not without the exertion of considerable -persuasions based upon a display of his amorous intentions, he remained -behind to clear things up. -</p> -<p> -Thus it happened that, as the Lady Dionara was walking by the lake, she -heard herself addressed from the bridge that led to the pavilion. -</p> -<p> -'Madonna! Gracious madonna!' -</p> -<p> -She turned to behold a tall young man with tumbled black hair and a -smear of paint across his face in a smock that was daubed with every -colour of the rainbow, waving a long-handled brush in a gesture towards -the temple. -</p> -<p> -'Would not her highness,' he was asking, 'graciously condescend to view -the progress of the frescoes.' -</p> -<p> -The Lady Dionara looked down her nose at this greatly presumptuous -fellow until he added softly: 'And receive news at the same time of the -young man she befriended yesterday?' That changed her expression, so -swift and ludicrously that Bellarion was moved to silent laughter. -</p> -<p> -To view those frescoes came the Lady Valeria alone, leaving Monna -Dionara to loiter on the bridge. Within the temple her highness found -the bedaubed young painter dangling his legs from a scaffold and -flourishing a brush in one hand, a mahlstick in the other. She looked at -him in waiting silence. He did not try her patience. -</p> -<p> -'Madonna, you do not recognise me.' With the sleeve of his smock he -wiped the daub of paint from across his features. But already his voice -had made him known. -</p> -<p> -'Messer Bellarion! Is it yourself?' -</p> -<p> -'Myself.' He came to the ground. 'To command.' -</p> -<p> -'But ... why this? Why thus?' Her eyes were wide, she was a little -breathless. -</p> -<p> -'I have had a busy day, madonna, and a busy night, and I have more to -report than may hurriedly be muttered behind a hedge.' -</p> -<p> -'You bring messages?' -</p> -<p> -'The message amounts to nothing. It is only to say that Messer -Giuffredo, fancying himself followed and watched on the last occasion, -is not to be induced to come again. And in the meanwhile nothing has -happened of which it was worth while to inform you. Messer Barbaresco -desires me further to say that everything progresses satisfactorily, -which I interpret to mean that no progress whatever is being made.' -</p> -<p> -'You interpret ...' -</p> -<p> -'And I venture to add, having been entertained at length, not only by -Messer Barbaresco, but also by the other out-at-elbow nobles in this -foolish venture, that it never will progress in the sense you wish, nor -to any end but disaster.' -</p> -<p> -He saw the scarlet flame of indignation overspread her face, he saw the -anger kindle in her great dark eyes, and he waited calmly for the -explosion. But the Lady Valeria was not explosive. Her rebuke was cold. -</p> -<p> -'Sir, you presume upon a messenger's office. You meddle in affairs that -are not your concern.' -</p> -<p> -'Do you thank God for it,' said Bellarion, unabashed. 'It is time some -one gave these things their proper names so as to remove all -misconception. Do you know whither Barbaresco and these other fools are -thrusting you, madonna? Straight into the hands of the strangler.' -</p> -<p> -Having conquered her anger once, she was not easily to be betrayed into -it again. -</p> -<p> -'If that is all you have to tell me, sir, I will leave you. I'll not -remain to hear my friends and peers maligned by a base knave to whom I -speak by merest accident.' -</p> -<p> -'Not accident, madonna.' His tone was impressive. 'A base knave I may -be. But base by birth alone. These others whom you trust and call your -peers are base by nature. Ah, wait! It was no accident that brought me!' -he cried, and this with a sincerity from which none could have suspected -the violence he did to his beliefs. 'Ask yourself why I should come -again to do more than is required of me, at some risk to myself? What -are your affairs, or the affairs of the State of Montferrat, to me? You -know what I am and what my aims. Why, then, should I tarry here? Because -I cannot help myself. Because the will of Heaven has imposed itself upon -me.' -</p> -<p> -His great earnestness, his very vehemence, which seemed to invest his -simple utterances with a tone of inspiration, impressed her despite -herself, as he intended that they should. Nor did she deceive him when -she dissembled this in light derision. -</p> -<p> -'An archangel in a painter's smock!' -</p> -<p> -'By Saint Hilary, that is nearer the truth than you suppose it.' -</p> -<p> -She smiled, yet not entirely without sourness. 'You do not lack a good -opinion of yourself.' -</p> -<p> -'You may come to share it when I've said all that's in my mind. I have -told you, madonna, whither these crack-brained adventurers are thrusting -you, so that they may advance themselves. Do you know the true import of -the conspiracy? Do you know what they plan, these fools? The murder of -the Marquis Theodore.' -</p> -<p> -She stared at him round-eyed, afraid. 'Murder?' she said in a voice of -horror. -</p> -<p> -He smiled darkly. 'They had not told you, eh? I knew they dared not. Yet -so indiscreet and rash are they that they betrayed it to me—to me of -whom they know nothing save that I carried as an earnest of my good -faith your broken half-ducat. What if I were just a scoundrel who would -sell to the Marquis Theodore a piece of information for which he would -no doubt pay handsomely? Do you still think that it was accident brought -me to interfere in your concerns?' -</p> -<p> -'I can't believe you! I can't!' and again she breathed, aghast, that -horrid word: 'Murder!' -</p> -<p> -'If they succeeded,' said Bellarion coldly, 'all would be well. Your -uncle would have no more than his deserts, and you and your brother -would be rid of an evil incubus. The notion does not shock me at all. -What shocks me is that I see no chance of success for a plot conducted -by such men with such inadequate resources. By joining them you can but -advance the Regent's aims, which you believe to be the destruction of -your brother. Let the attempt be made, and fail, or even let evidence be -forthcoming of the conspiracy's existence and true purpose, and your -brother is at the Regent's mercy. The people themselves might demand his -outlawry or even his death for an attempt upon the life of a prince who -has known how to make himself beloved.' -</p> -<p> -'But my brother is not in this,' she protested. 'He knows nothing of -it.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion smiled compassionately. '<i>Cui bono fuerit</i>? That is the -first question which the law will ask. Be warned, madonna! Dissociate -yourself from these men while it is time or you may enable the Regent at -a single stride to reach his ultimate ambition.' -</p> -<p> -The pallor of her face, the heave of her breast, were witnesses to her -agitation. 'You would frighten me if I did not know how false is your -main assumption: that they plot murder. They would never dare to do this -thing without my sanction, and this they have never sought.' -</p> -<p> -'Because they intend to confront you with an accomplished fact. Oh, you -may believe me, madonna. In the last twenty-four hours and chiefly from -these men I have learnt much of the history of Montferrat. And I have -learnt a deal of their own histories too. There is not one amongst them -who is not reduced in circumstances, whose state has not been diminished -by lack of fortune or lack of worth.' -</p> -<p> -But for this she had an answer, and she delivered it with a slow, -wistful smile. -</p> -<p> -'You talk, sir, as if you contained all knowledge, and yet you have not -learnt that the fortunate desire no change, but labour to uphold the -state whence their prosperity is derived. Is it surprising, then, that I -depend upon the unfortunate?' -</p> -<p> -'Say also the venal, those greedy of power and of possessions, whose -only spur is interest; desperate gamblers who set their heads upon the -board and your own and your brother's head with theirs. Almost they -divided among themselves in their talk the offices of State. Barbaresco -promised me that the ambition he perceived in me should be fully -gratified. He assumed that I, too, had no aim but self-aggrandisement, -simply because he could assume no other reason why a man should expose -himself to risks. That told me all of him that I required to know.' -</p> -<p> -'Barbaresco is poor,' she answered. 'He has suffered wrongs. Once, in my -father's time he was almost the greatest man in the State. My uncle has -stripped him of his honours and almost of his possessions.' -</p> -<p> -'That is the best thing I have heard of the Marquis Theodore yet.' -</p> -<p> -She did not heed him, but went on: 'Can I desert him now? Can I ...' She -checked and stiffened, seeming to grow taller. 'What am I saying? What -am I thinking?' She laughed, and there was scorn of self in her laugh. -'What arts do you employ, you, an unknown man, a self-confessed -starveling student, base and nameless, that upon no better warrant than -your word I should even ask such a question?' -</p> -<p> -'What arts?' said he, and smiled in his turn, though without scorn. 'The -art of pure reason based on truth. It is not to be resisted.' -</p> -<p> -'Not if based on truth. But yours is based on prejudice.' -</p> -<p> -'Is it prejudice that they are plotting murder?' -</p> -<p> -'They have been misled by their devotion ...' -</p> -<p> -'By their cupidity, madonna.' -</p> -<p> -'I will not suffer you to say that.' Anger flared up again in her, loyal -anger on behalf of those she deemed her only friends in her great need. -She checked it instantly, 'Sir, I perceive your interest, and I am -grateful. If you would still do me a service, go, tell Messer Barbaresco -from me that this plot of assassination must go no further. Impose it -upon him as my absolute command. Tell him that I must be obeyed and -that, rather than be a party to such an act, I would disclose the -intention to the Marquis Theodore.' -</p> -<p> -'That is something, madonna. But if when you have slept upon it ...' -</p> -<p> -She interrupted him. 'Upon whatever course I may determine I shall find -means to convey the same to my Lord Barbaresco. There will not be the -need to trouble you again. For what you have done, sir, I shall remain -grateful. So, go with God, Messer Bellarion.' -</p> -<p> -She was turning away when he arrested her. -</p> -<p> -'It is a little personal matter this. I am in need of five ducats.' -</p> -<p> -He saw the momentary frown, chased away by the beginnings of a smile. -</p> -<p> -'You are consistent in that you misunderstand me, though I have once -reminded you that if I needed money for myself I could sell my -information to the Regent. The five ducats are for Gobbo who lent me -this smock and these tools of my pretended trade.' And he told her the -exact circumstances. -</p> -<p> -She considered him more gently. 'You do not lack resource, sir?' -</p> -<p> -'It goes with intelligence, madonna,' he reminded her as an argument in -favour of what he said. But she ignored it. -</p> -<p> -'And I am sorry that I ... You shall have ten ducats, unless your pride -is above ...' -</p> -<p> -'Do you see pride in me?' -</p> -<p> -She looked him over with a certain haughty amusement. 'A monstrous -pride, an overweening vanity in your acuteness.' -</p> -<p> -'I'll take ten ducats to convince you of my humility. I may yet need the -other five in the service of your highness.' -</p> -<p> -'That service, sir, is at an end, or will be when you have conveyed my -message to the Lord Barbaresco.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion accepted his dismissal in the settled conviction that her -highness was mistaken and would presently be glad to admit it. -</p> -<p> -She was right, you see, touching that vanity of his. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap08"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER VIII -<br /><br /> -STALEMATE</h4> - -<p> -Bellarion and Barbaresco sat at supper, waited upon by an untidy and -unclean old man who afforded all the service of that decayed -establishment. The fare was frugal, more frugal far than the Convent of -Cigliano had afforded out of Lent, and the wine was thin and sharp. -</p> -<p> -When the repast was done and the old servant, having lighted candles, -had retired, Bellarion startled his host by the portentous gravity of -his tone. -</p> -<p> -'My lord, you and I must talk. I told you that her highness sends no -answer to your message, which is the truth, and all that you could -expect, since there was no message and consequently could be no answer. -I did not tell you, however, that she sends you a message which is in -some sense an answer to certain suspicions that I voiced to her.' -</p> -<p> -Barbaresco's mouth fell open, and the stare of his blue eyes grew fixed. -Clearly he was startled, and clearly paused to command himself before -asking: -</p> -<p> -'Why did you not tell me this before?' -</p> -<p> -'I preferred to wait so as to make sure of not going supperless. It may, -of course, offend you that I should have communicated my suspicions to -her highness. But the poor lady was so downcast by your inaction, that -to cheer her I ventured the opinion that you are perhaps not quite so -aimless as you wish to appear.' -</p> -<p> -Whatever his convent education may have done for him, it does not -seem—as you will long since have gathered—that it had -inculcated a strict regard for exactitude. Dissimulation, I fear, was -bred in the bones of him; although he would have answered any such -charge by informing you that Plato had taught him to distinguish between -the lie on the lips and the lie in the heart. -</p> -<p> -'Oh, but proceed! The opinion?' Barbaresco fiercely challenged him. -</p> -<p> -'You'll remember what Count Spigno said before you others checked him. -The arbalester ... You remember.' Bellarion appeared to falter a little -under the glare of those blue eyes and the fierce set of that heavy jaw. -'So I told her highness, to raise her drooping spirits, that one of -these fine days her friends in Casale might cut the Gordian knot with a -crossbow shaft.' -</p> -<p> -Barbaresco suggested by his attitude a mastiff crouching for a spring. -</p> -<p> -'Ah!' he commented. 'And she said?' -</p> -<p> -'The very contrary of what I expected. Where I looked for elation, I -found only distress. It was in vain I pleaded with her that thus a -consummation would speedily be reached; that if such a course had not -yet been determined, it was precisely the course that I should -advocate.' -</p> -<p> -'Oh! You pleaded that! And she?' -</p> -<p> -'She bade me tell you that if such a thing were indeed in your minds, -you must dismiss it. That she would be no party to it. That sooner she -would herself denounce the intention to the Marquis Theodore.' -</p> -<p> -'Body of God!' Barbaresco came to his feet, his great face purple, the -veins of his temples standing forth like cords Whilst appearing unmoved, -Bellarion braced his muscles for action. -</p> -<p> -The attack came. But only in words. Barbaresco heaped horrible and -obscene abuse upon Bellarion's head. 'You infamous fool! You triple ass! -You chattering ape!' With these, amongst other terms, the young man -found himself bombarded. 'Get you back to her, and tell her, you -numskulled baboon, that there was never any such intention.' -</p> -<p> -'But was there not?' Bellarion cried with almost shrill ingenuousness of -tone. 'Yet Count Spigno ...' -</p> -<p> -'Devil take Count Spigno, fool. Heed me. Carry my message to her -highness.' -</p> -<p> -'I carry no lies,' said Bellarion firmly, and rose with great dignity. -</p> -<p> -'Lies!' gurgled Barbaresco. -</p> -<p> -'Lies,' Bellarion insisted. 'Let us have done with them. To her highness -I expressed as a suspicion what in my mind was a clear conviction. The -words Count Spigno used, and your anxiety to silence him, could leave no -doubt in any man of wit, and I am that, I hope, my lord. If you will -have this message carried, you will first show me the ends you serve by -its falsehood, and let me, who am in this thing as deep as any, be the -judge of whether it is justified.' -</p> -<p> -Before this firmness the wrath went out of Barbaresco. Weakly he wrung -his hands a moment, then sank sagging into his chair. -</p> -<p> -'If the others, if Cavalcanti or Casella, had known how much you had -understood, you would never have left this house alive, lest you should -do precisely what you have done.' -</p> -<p> -'But if it is on her behalf—hers and her brother's—that you -plan this thing, why should you not take her feeling first? What else is -right or fair?' -</p> -<p> -'Her feeling?' Barbaresco sneered, and Bellarion understood that the -sneer was for himself. 'God deliver me from the weariness of reasoning -with a fool. Our bolt would have been shot, and none could have guessed -the hands that loosed it. Now you have made it known, and you need to be -told what will happen if we were mad enough to go through with it. Why, -the Princess Valeria would be our instant accuser. She would come forth -at once and denounce us. That is the spirit of her; wilful, headstrong, -and mawkish. And I am a fool to bid you go back to her and persuade her -that you were mistaken. When the blow fell, she would see that what you -had first told her was the truth, and our heads would pay.' -</p> -<p> -He set his elbows on the table, took his head in his hands, and fetched -a groan from his great bulk. 'The ruin you have wrought! God! The ruin!' -</p> -<p> -'Ruin?' quoth Bellarion. -</p> -<p> -'Of all our hopes,' Barbaresco explained in petulance. -</p> -<p> -'Can't you see it? Can you understand nothing for yourself, animal, save -the things you were better for not understanding? And can't you see that -you have ruined yourself with us? With your face and shape and already -close in the Lady Valeria's confidence as you are, there are no heights -in the State to which you might not have climbed.' -</p> -<p> -'I had not thought of it,' said Bellarion, sighing. -</p> -<p> -'No, nor of me, nor of any of us. Of me!' The man's grief became -passionate. 'At last I might have sloughed this beggary in which I live. -And now ...' He banged the table in his sudden rage, and got to his feet -again. 'That is what you have done. That is what you have wrecked by -your silly babbling.' -</p> -<p> -'But surely, sir, by other means ...' -</p> -<p> -'There are no other means. Leastways, no other means at our command. -Have we the money to levy troops? Oh, why do I waste my breath upon you? -You'll tell the others to-morrow what you've done, and they shall tell -you what they think of it.' -</p> -<p> -It was a course that had its perils. But if once in the stillness of the -night Bellarion's shrewd wits counselled him to rise, dress, and begone, -he stilled the coward counsel. It remained to be seen whether the other -conspirators would be as easily intimidated as Barbaresco. To ascertain -this, Bellarion determined to remain. The Lady Valeria's need of him was -not yet done, he thought, though why the Lady Valeria's affairs should -be the cause of his exposing himself to the chances of a blade between -the ribs was perhaps more than he could satisfactorily have explained. -</p> -<p> -That the danger was very far from imaginary the next morning's -conference showed him. Scarcely had the plotters realised the nature of -Bellarion's activities than they were clamouring for his blood. Casella, -the exile, breathing fire and slaughter, would have sprung upon him with -dagger drawn, had not Barbaresco bodily interposed. -</p> -<p> -'Not in my house!' he roared. 'Not in my house!' his only concern being -the matter of his own incrimination. -</p> -<p> -'Nor anywhere, unless you are bent on suicide,' Bellarion calmly warned -them. He moved from behind Barbaresco, to confront them. 'You are -forgetting that in my murder the Lady Valeria will see your answer. She -will denounce you, sirs, not only for this, but for the intended murder -of the Regent. Slay me, and you just as surely slay yourselves.' He -permitted himself to smile as he looked upon their stricken faces. 'It's -an interesting situation, known in chess as a stalemate.' -</p> -<p> -In their baffled fury they turned upon Count Spigno, whose indiscretion -had created this situation. Enzo Spigno, sitting there with a sneer on -his white face, let the storm rage. When at last it abated, he expressed -himself. -</p> -<p> -'Rather should you thank me for having tested the ground before we stand -on it. For the rest, it is as I expected. It is an ill thing to be -associated with a woman in these matters.' -</p> -<p> -'We did not bring her in,' said Barbaresco. 'It was she who appealed to -me for assistance.' -</p> -<p> -'And now that we are ready to afford it her,' said Casella, 'she -discovers that it is not of the sort she wishes. I say it is not hers to -choose. Hopes have been raised in us, and we have laboured to fulfil -them.' -</p> -<p> -How they all harped on that, thought Bellarion. How concerned was each -with the profit that he hoped to wrest for himself, how enraged to see -himself cheated of this profit. The Lady Valeria, the State, the boy who -was being corrupted that he might be destroyed, these things were -nothing to these men. Not once did he hear them mentioned now in the -futile disorderly debate that followed, whilst he sat a little apart and -almost forgotten. -</p> -<p> -At last it was Spigno, this Spigno whom they dubbed a fool—but who, -after all, had more wit than all of them together—who discovered and -made the counter-move. -</p> -<p> -'You there, Master Bellarion!' he called. 'Here is what you are to tell -your lady in answer to her threat: We who have set our hands to this -task of ridding the State of the Regent's thraldom will not draw back. -We go forward with this thing as seems best to us, and we are not to be -daunted by threats. Make it clear to this arrogant lady that she cannot -betray us without at the same time betraying herself; that whatever fate -she invokes upon us will certainly overtake her as well.' -</p> -<p> -'It may be that she has already perceived and weighed that danger,' said -Bellarion. -</p> -<p> -'Aye, as a danger; but perhaps not as a certainty. And tell her also -that she as certainly dooms her brother. Make her understand that it is -not so easy to play with the souls of men as she supposes, and that here -she has evoked forces which it is not within her power to lay again.' He -turned to his associates. 'Be sure that when she perceives precisely -where she stands, she will cease to trouble us with her qualms either -now or when the thing is done.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion had mockingly pronounced the situation interesting when by a -shrewd presentment of it he had given pause to the murderous rage of the -conspirators. Considering it later that day as he took the air along the -river-brink, he was forced to confess it more disturbingly interesting -even than he had shown it to be. -</p> -<p> -He had not been blind to that weakness in the Lady Valeria's position. -But he had been foolishly complacent, like the skilful chess-player who, -perceiving a strong move possible to his opponent, takes it for granted -that the opponent himself will not perceive it. -</p> -<p> -It seemed to him that nothing remained but to resume his interrupted -pilgrimage to Pavia, leaving the State of Montferrat and the Lady -Valeria to settle their own affairs. But in that case, her own ruin must -inevitably follow, precipitated by the action of those ruffians with -whom she was allied, whether that action succeeded or failed. -</p> -<p> -Then he asked himself what to him were the affairs of Montferrat and its -princess, that he should risk his life upon them. -</p> -<p> -He fetched a sigh. The Abbot had been right. There is no peace in this -world outside a convent wall. Certainly there was no peace in -Montferrat. Let him shake the dust of that place of unrest from his -feet, and push on towards Pavia and the study of Greek. -</p> -<p> -And so, by olive grove and vineyard, he wandered on, assuring himself -that it was towards Pavia that he now went, and repeating to himself -that he would reach the Sesia before nightfall and seek shelter in some -hamlet thereabouts. -</p> -<p> -Yet dusk saw him reëntering Casale by the Lombard Gate which faces -eastwards. And this because he realised that the service he had -shouldered was a burden not so lightly to be cast aside: if he forsook -her now, the vision of her tawny head and wistful eyes would go with him -to distract him with reproach. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap09"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER IX -<br /><br /> -THE MARQUIS THEODORE</h4> - -<p> -The High and Mighty Marquis Theodore Paleologo, Regent of Montferrat, -gave audience as was his gracious custom each Saturday to all who sought -it, and received petitions from all who proffered them. -</p> -<p> -A fine man, this Marquis Theodore, standing fully six feet tall, of a -good shape and soldierly carriage, despite his fifty years. His -countenance was amiable and open with boldly chiselled features and -healthily tanned skin. Affable of manner, accessible of person, he -nowise suggested the schemer. The privilege of audience which he granted -so freely was never abused, so that on the Saturday of this week with -which we are dealing the attendance in the audience chamber was as usual -of modest proportions. His highness came, attended by his Chancellor and -his Captain of Justice, and followed by two secretaries; he made a -leisurely progress through the chamber, pausing at every other step to -receive this one, or to say a word to that one; and at the end of an -hour departed again, one of his secretaries bearing away the single -petition that had been proffered, and this by a tall, dark-haired young -man who was vividly dressed in scarlet. -</p> -<p> -Within five minutes of the Regent's withdrawal, that same secretary -returned in quest of the tall young man in red. -</p> -<p> -'Are you named Cane, sir?' -</p> -<p> -The tall young man bowed acknowledgment, and was ushered into a small, -pleasant chamber, whose windows overlooked the gardens with which -Bellarion had already made acquaintance. The secretary closed the door, -and Bellarion found himself under the scrutiny of a pair of close-set -pale eyes whose glance was crafty and penetrating. Cross-legged, the -parti-coloured hose revealed by the fall of the rich gown of mulberry -velvet, the Regent sat in a high-backed chair of leather wrought with -stags' heads in red and gold, his left elbow resting upon a carved -writing-pulpit. -</p> -<p> -Between hands that were long and fine, he held a parchment cylinder, in -which Bellarion recognised the pretended petition he had proffered. -</p> -<p> -'Who are you, sir?' The voice was calm and level; the voice of a man who -does not permit his accents to advertise his thoughts. -</p> -<p> -'My name is Bellarion Cane. I am the adoptive son of Bonifacio Cane, -Count of Biandrate.' -</p> -<p> -Since he had found it necessary for his present purposes to adopt a -father, Bellarion had thought it best to adopt one whose name must carry -weight and at need afford protection. Therefore he had conferred this -honour of paternity upon that great soldier, Facino Cane, who was ducal -governor of Milan. -</p> -<p> -There was a flash of surprise from the eyes that conned him. -</p> -<p> -'You are Facino's son! You come from Milan, then?' -</p> -<p> -'No, my lord. From the Augustinian Convent at Cigliano, where my -adoptive father left me some years ago whilst he was still in the -service of Montferrat. It was hoped that I might take the habit. But a -restlessness of spirit has urged me to prefer the world.' Thus he -married pure truth to the single falsehood he had used, the extent of -which was to clothe the obscure soldier who had befriended him with the -identity of the famous soldier he had named. -</p> -<p> -'But why the world of Montferrat?' -</p> -<p> -'Chance determined that. I bore letters from my abbot to help me on my -way. It was thus I made the acquaintance of the Lord Barbaresco, and his -lordship becoming interested in me, and no doubt requiring me for -certain services, desired me to remain. He urged that here was a path -already open to my ambition, which if steadily pursued might lead to -eminence.' -</p> -<p> -There was no falsehood in the statement. It was merely truth untruly -told, truth unassailable under test, yet calculated to convey a false -impression. -</p> -<p> -A thin smile parted the Prince's shaven lips. 'And when you had learnt -sufficient, you found that a surer path to advancement might lie in the -betrayal of these poor conspirators?' -</p> -<p> -'That, highness, is to set the unworthiest interpretation upon my -motives.' Bellarion made a certain show in his tone and manner of -offended dignity, such as might become the venal rascal he desired to be -considered. -</p> -<p> -'You will not dispute that the course you have taken argues more -intelligence than honesty or loyalty.' -</p> -<p> -'Your highness reproaches me with lack of loyalty to traitors?' -</p> -<p> -'What was their treason to you? What loyalty do you owe to me? You have -but looked to see where lies your profit. Well, well, you are worthy to -be the son, adoptive or natural, of that rascal Facino. You follow -closely in his footsteps, and if you survive the perils of the journey -you may go as far.' -</p> -<p> -'Highness! I came to serve you ...' -</p> -<p> -'Silence!' The pleasant voice was scarcely raised. 'I am speaking. I -understand your service perfectly. I know something of men, and if I -choose to use you, it is because your hope of profit may keep you loyal, -and because I shall know how to detect disloyalty and how to punish it. -You engage, sir, in a service full of perils.' The Regent seemed faintly -to sneer. 'But you have thrust yourself willingly into it. It will test -you sternly and at every step. If you survive the tests, if you conquer -the natural baseness and dishonesty of your nature, you shall have no -cause to complain of my generosity.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion flushed despite himself under the cold contempt of that level -voice and the amused contempt of those calm, pale eyes. -</p> -<p> -'The quality of my service should lead your highness to amend your -judgment.' -</p> -<p> -'Is it at fault? Will you tell me, then, whence springs the regard out -of which you betray to me the aims and names of these men who have -befriended you?' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion threw back his head and in his bold dark eyes was kindled a -flame of indignation. Inwardly he was a little uneasy to find the Regent -accepting his word so readily and upon such slight examination. -</p> -<p> -'Your highness,' he choked, 'will give me leave to go.' -</p> -<p> -But his highness smiled, savouring his power to torture souls where -lesser tyrants could torture only bodies. -</p> -<p> -'When I have done with you. You came at your own pleasure. You abide at -mine. Now tell me, sir: Besides the names you have here set down of -these men who seek my life, do you know of any others who work in -concert with them?' -</p> -<p> -'I know that there are others whom they are labouring to seduce. Who -these others are I cannot say, nor, with submission, need it matter to -your highness. These are the leaders. Once these are crushed, the others -will be without direction.' -</p> -<p> -'A seven-headed hydra, of which these are the heads. If I lop off these -heads ...' He paused. 'Yes, yes. But have you heard none others named in -these councils?' He leaned forward a little, his eyes intent upon -Bellarion's face. 'None who are nearer to me? Think well, Master -Bellarion, and be not afraid to name names, however great.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion perceived here, almost by instinct, the peril of too great a -reticence. -</p> -<p> -'Since they profess to labour on behalf of the Marquis Gian Giacomo, it -is natural they should name him. But I have never heard it asserted that -he has knowledge of their plot.' -</p> -<p> -'Nor any other?' The Marquis was singularly insistent. 'Nor any other?' -he repeated. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion showed a blank face. 'Why? What other?' -</p> -<p> -'Nay, sir, I am asking you.' -</p> -<p> -'No, highness,' he slowly answered. 'I recall the mention of no other.' -</p> -<p> -The Prince sank back into his chair, his searching eyes never quitting -the young man's face. Then he committed what in a man so subtle was a -monstrous indiscretion, giving Bellarion the explanation that he lacked. -</p> -<p> -'You are not deep enough in their confidence yet. Return to their -councils, and keep me informed of all that transpires in them. Be -diligent, and you shall find me generous.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion was genuinely aghast. 'Your highness will delay to strike when -by delay you may imperil ...?' -</p> -<p> -He was sternly silenced. 'Is your counsel sought? You understand what I -require of you. You have leave to go.' -</p> -<p> -'But, highness! To return amongst them now, after openly coming here to -you, will not be without its danger.' -</p> -<p> -The regent did not share his alarm. He smiled again. -</p> -<p> -'You have chosen a path of peril as I told you. But I will help you. I -discover that I have letters from Facino humbly soliciting my protection -for his adoptive son whilst in Casale. It is a petition I cannot -disregard. Facino is a great lord in Milan these days. My court shall be -advised of it, and it will not be considered strange that I make you -free of the palace. You will persuade your confederates that you avail -yourself of my hospitality so that you may abuse it in their interests. -That should satisfy them, and I shall look to see you here this evening. -Now go with God.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion stumbled out distracted. Nothing had gone as he intended after -that too promising beginning. Perhaps had he not disclosed himself as -Facino Cane's adoptive son, he would not have supplied the Regent with a -pretence that should render plausible his comings and goings. But the -necessity for that disclosure was undeniable. His conduct had been -dictated by the conviction that he could do for the Lady Valeria what -she could not without self-betrayal do for herself. Confidently he had -counted upon instant action of the Regent to crush the conspirators, and -so make the Princess safe from the net in which their crazy ambitions -would entangle her. Instead he had made the discovery—from the -single indiscretion of the Regent—that the Marquis Theodore was -already fully aware of the existence of the conspiracy and of the -identity of some, if not all, of the chief conspirators. That was why he -had so readily accepted Bellarion's tale. The disclosure agreed so -completely with the Regent's knowledge that he had no cause to doubt -Bellarion's veracity. And finding him true in these most intimate -details, he readily believed true the rest of his story and the specious -account of his own intervention in the affair. Possibly Bellarion's name -was already known to him as that of one of the plotters who met at -Barbaresco's house. -</p> -<p> -Far, then, from achieving his real purpose, all that Bellarion had -accomplished was to offer himself as another and apparently singularly -apt instrument for the Regent's dark purposes. -</p> -<p> -It was a perturbed Bellarion, a Bellarion who perceived in what -dangerous waters he was swimming, who came back that noontide to -Barbaresco's house. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap10"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER X -<br /><br /> -THE WARNING</h4> - -<p> -They were very gay that night at the hospitable court of the Marquis -Theodore. A comedy was performed early in the evening, a comedy which -Fra Serafino in his chronicle describes as lascivious, by which he may -mean no more than playful. Thereafter there was some dancing in the long -hall, of which the Regent himself set the example, leading forth the -ugly but graceful young Princess of Morea. -</p> -<p> -His nephew, the Marquis Gian Giacomo, followed with the Countess of -Ronsecco, who would have declined the honour if she had dared, for the -boy's cheeks were flushed, his eyes glazed, his step uncertain, and his -speech noisy and incoherent. And there were few who smiled as they -observed the drunken antics of their future prince. Once, indeed, the -Regent paused, grave and concerned of countenance, to whisper an -admonition. The boy answered him with a bray of insolent laughter, and -flung away, dragging the pretty countess with him. It was plain to all -that the gentle, knightly Regent found it beyond his power to control -his unruly, degenerate nephew. -</p> -<p> -Amongst the few who dared to smile was Messer Castruccio da Fenestrella, -radiant in a suit of cloth of gold, who stood watching the mischief he -had made. For it was he who had first secretly challenged Gian Giacomo -to a drinking-bout during supper, and afterwards urged him to dance with -the pretty wife of stiff-necked Ronsecco. -</p> -<p> -Awhile he stood looking on. Then, wearying of the entertainment, he -sauntered off to join a group apart of which the Lady Valeria was the -centre. Her ladies, Dionara and Isotta, were with her, the pedant -Corsario, looking even less pedantic than his habit, and a half-dozen -gallants who among them made all the chatter. Her highness was pale, and -there was a frown between her eyes that so wistfully followed her -unseemly brother, inattentive of those about her, some of whom from the -kindliest motives sought to distract her attention. Her cheeks warmed a -little at the approach of Castruccio, who moved into the group with -easy, insolent grace. -</p> -<p> -'My lord is gay to-night,' he informed them lightly. None answered him. -He looked at them with his flickering, shifty eyes, a sneering smile on -his lips. 'So are not you,' he informed them. 'You need enlivening.' He -thrust forward to the Princess, and bowed. 'Will your highness dance?' -</p> -<p> -She did not look at him. Her eyes were fixed, and their glance went -beyond him and was of such intensity that Messer Castruccio turned to -seek the object of that curious contemplation. -</p> -<p> -Down the hall came striding Messer Aliprandi, the Orator of Milan, and -with him a tall, black-haired young man, in a suit of red that was more -conspicuous than suitable of fashion to the place or the occasion. Into -the group about the Princess they came, whilst the exquisite Castruccio -eyed this unfashionable young man with frank contempt, bearing his -pomander-ball to his nostrils, as if to protect his olfactory organs -from possible offence. -</p> -<p> -Messer Aliprandi, trimly bearded, elegant in his furred gown, and -suavely mannered, bowed low before the Lady Valeria. -</p> -<p> -'Permit me, highness, to present Messer Bellarion Cane, the son of my -good friend Facino Cane of Biandrate.' -</p> -<p> -It was the Marquis Theodore, who had requested the Orator of -Milan—as was proper, seeing that by reason of his paternity -Bellarion was to be regarded as Milanese—to present his assumed -compatriot to her highness. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion, modelling himself upon Aliprandi, executed his bow with -grace. -</p> -<p> -As Fra Serafino truthfully says of him: 'He learnt manners and customs -and all things so quickly that he might aptly be termed a fluid in the -jug of any circumstance.' -</p> -<p> -The Lady Valeria inclined her head with no more trace of recognition in -her face than there was in Bellarion's own. -</p> -<p> -'You are welcome, sir,' she said with formal graciousness, and then -turned to Aliprandi. 'I did not know that the Count of Biandrate had a -son.' -</p> -<p> -'Nor did I, madonna, until this moment. It was the Marquis Theodore who -made him known to me.' She fancied in Aliprandi's tone something that -seemed to disclaim responsibility. But she turned affably to the -newcomer, and Bellarion marvelled at the ease with which she dissembled. -</p> -<p> -'I knew the Count of Biandrate well when I was a child, and I hold his -memory very dear. He was in my father's service once, as you will know. -I rejoice in the greatness he has since achieved. It should make a brave -tale.' -</p> -<p> -'<i>Per aspera ad astra</i> is ever a brave tale,' Bellarion answered -soberly. 'Too often it is <i>per astra ad aspera</i>, if I may judge by -what I have read.' -</p> -<p> -'You shall tell me of your father, sir. I have often wished to hear the -story of his advancement.' -</p> -<p> -'To command, highness.' He bowed again. -</p> -<p> -The others drew closer, expecting entertainment. But Bellarion, who had -no such entertainment to bestow, nor knew of Facino's life more than a -fragment of what was known to all the world, extricated himself as -adroitly as he could. -</p> -<p> -'I am no practised troubadour or story-singer. And this tale of a -journey to the stars should be told under the stars.' -</p> -<p> -'Why, so it shall, then. They shine brightly enough. You shall show me -Facino's and perhaps your own.' She rose and commanded her ladies to -attend her. -</p> -<p> -Castruccio fetched a sigh of relief. -</p> -<p> -'Give thanks,' he said audibly to those about him, 'for Heaven's mercy -which has spared you this weariness.' -</p> -<p> -The door at the end of the hall stood open to the terrace and the -moonlight. Thither the Princess conducted Bellarion, her ladies in close -attendance. -</p> -<p> -Approaching the threshold they came upon the Marquis Gian Giacomo, -reeling clumsily beside the Countess of Ronsecco, who was almost on the -point of tears. He paused in his caperings that he might ogle his -sister. -</p> -<p> -'Where do you go, Valeria? And who's this long-shanks?' -</p> -<p> -She approached him. 'You are tired, Giannino, and the Countess, too, is -tired. You would be better resting awhile.' -</p> -<p> -'Indeed, highness!' cried the young Countess, eagerly thankful. -</p> -<p> -But the Marquis was not at all of his sister's wise opinion. -</p> -<p> -'Tired? Resting! You're childish, Valeria. Always childish. Childish and -meddlesome. Poking your long nose into everything. Some day you'll poke -it into something that'll sting it. And what will it look like when it's -stung? Have you thought of that?' He laughed derisively, and caught the -Countess by the arm. 'Let's leave long-nose and long-shanks. Ha! Ha!' -His idiotic laughter shrilled up. He was ravished by his own humour. He -let his voice ring out that all might hear and share the enjoyment of -his comical conceit. 'Long-nose and long-shanks! Long-nose and -long-shanks! -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">'Said she to him, your long-shanks I adore.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Said he to her, your long-nose I deplore.'</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -Screaming with laughter he plunged forward to resume the dance, trod -upon one of his trailing, exaggerated sleeves, tripped himself, and went -sprawling on the tessellated floor, his laughter louder and more idiotic -than ever. A dozen ran to lift him. -</p> -<p> -The Princess tapped Bellarion sharply on the arm with her fan of -ostrich-plumes. Her face was like graven stone. -</p> -<p> -'Come,' she commanded, and passed out ahead of him. -</p> -<p> -On the terrace she signed to her ladies to fall behind whilst with her -companion she moved beyond earshot along the marble balustrade, whose -moonlit pallor was here and there splashed by the black tide of trailing -plants. -</p> -<p> -'Now, sir,' she invited in a voice of ice, 'will you explain this new -identity and your presence here?' -</p> -<p> -He answered in calm, level tones: 'My presence explains itself when I -tell you that my identity is accepted by his highness the Regent. The -son of Facino Cane is not to be denied the hospitality of the Court of -Montferrat.' -</p> -<p> -'Then why did you lie to me when ...' -</p> -<p> -'No, no. This is the lie. This false identity was as necessary to gain -admission here as was the painter's smock I wore yesterday: another -lie.' -</p> -<p> -'You ask me to believe that you ...' Indignation choked her. 'My senses -tell me what you are; an agent sent to work my ruin.' -</p> -<p> -'Your senses tell you either more or less, or else you would not now be -here.' -</p> -<p> -And then it was as if the bonds of her self-control were suddenly -snapped by the strain they sought to bear. 'Oh, God!' she cried out. 'I -am near distraction. My brother ...' She broke off on something akin to -a sob. -</p> -<p> -Outwardly Bellarion remained calm. 'Shall we take one thing at a time? -Else we shall never be done. And I should not remain here too long with -you.' -</p> -<p> -'Why not? You have the sanction of my dear uncle, who sends you.' -</p> -<p> -'Even so.' He lowered his voice to a whisper. 'It is your uncle is my -dupe, not you.' -</p> -<p> -'That is what I expected you to say.' -</p> -<p> -'You had best leave inference until you have heard me out. Inference, -highness, as I have shown you once already, is not your strength.' -</p> -<p> -If she resented his words and the tone he took, she gave no expression -to it. Standing rigidly against the marble balustrade, she looked away -from him and down that moonlit garden with its inky shadows and tall yew -hedges that were sharp black silhouettes against the faintly irradiated -sky. -</p> -<p> -Briefly, swiftly, lucidly, Bellarion told her how her message had been -received by the conspirators. -</p> -<p> -'You thought to checkmate them. But they perceived the move you have -overlooked, whereby they checkmate you. This proves what already I have -told you: that they serve none but themselves. You and your brother are -but the instruments with which they go to work. There was only one way -to frustrate them; one only way to serve and save you. That way I -sought.' -</p> -<p> -She interrupted him there. 'You sought? You sought?' Her voice held -bewilderment, unbelief, and even some anger. 'Why should you desire to -save or serve me? If I could believe you, I must account you -impertinent. You were a messenger, no more.' -</p> -<p> -'Was I no more when I disclosed to you the true aims of these men and -the perils of your association with them?' -</p> -<p> -'Aye, you were more,' she said bitterly. 'But what were you?' -</p> -<p> -'Your servant, madonna,' he answered simply. -</p> -<p> -'Ah, yes. I had forgotten. My servant. Sent by Providence, was it not?' -</p> -<p> -'You are bitter, lady,' said Bellarion. -</p> -<p> -'Am I?' She turned at last to look at him. But his face was no more than -a faint white blur. 'Perhaps I find you too sweet to be real.' -</p> -<p> -He sighed. 'The rest of my tale will hardly change that opinion. Is it -worth while continuing?' He spoke without any heat, a little wistfully. -</p> -<p> -'It should be entertaining if not convincing.' -</p> -<p> -'For your entertainment, then: what you could not do without destroying -yourself was easily possible to me.' And he told her of his pretended -petition, giving the Regent the names of those who plotted against his -life. -</p> -<p> -He saw her clutch her breast, caught the gasp of dread and dismay that -broke from her lips. -</p> -<p> -'You betrayed them!' -</p> -<p> -'Was it not what you announced that you would do if they did not abandon -their plan of murder? I was your deputy, no more. When I presented -myself as Facino Cane's adopted son I was readily believed—because -the Regent cared little whether it were true or not, since in me he -perceived the very agent that he needed.' -</p> -<p> -'Ah, now at last we have something that does not strain belief.' -</p> -<p> -'Will it strain belief that the Regent was already fully informed of -this conspiracy?' -</p> -<p> -'What!' -</p> -<p> -'Why else should he have trusted or believed me? Of his own knowledge he -knew that what I told him was true.' -</p> -<p> -'He knew and he held his hand?' Again the question was made scornful by -unbelief. -</p> -<p> -'Because he lacked evidence that you, and, through you, your brother, -were parties to the plot. What to him are Barbaresco's shabby crew? It -is the Marquis Gian Giacomo who must be removed in such a manner as not -to impair the Lord Regent's credit. To gather evidence am I now sent.' -</p> -<p> -She tore an ostrich-plume from her fan in her momentary passion. -</p> -<p> -'You do not hesitate to confess how you betray each in turn; Barbaresco -to the Regent; the Regent to me; and now, no doubt, me to the Regent.' -</p> -<p> -'As for the last, madonna, to betray you I need not now be here. I could -have supplied the Regent with all the evidence he needs against you at -the same time that I supplied the evidence against the others.' -</p> -<p> -She was silent, turning it over in her mind. And because her mind was -acute, she saw the proof his words afforded. But because afraid, she -mistrusted proof. -</p> -<p> -'It may be part of the trap,' she complained. 'If it were not, why -should you remain after denouncing my friends? The aims you pretend -would have been fully served by that.' -</p> -<p> -His answer was prompt and complete. -</p> -<p> -'If I had departed, you would never have known the answer of those men -whom you trust, nor would you have known that there is a Judas amongst -them already. It was necessary to warn you.' -</p> -<p> -'Yes,' she said slowly. 'I see, I think.' And then in sudden revolt -against the conviction he was forcing upon her, and in tones which if -low were vehement to the point of fierceness: 'Necessary!' she cried, -echoing the word he had used. 'Necessary! How was it necessary? Whence -this necessity of yours? A week ago you did not know me. Yet for me, who -am nothing to you, whose service carries no reward, you pretend yourself -prepared to labour and to take risks involving even your very life. That -is what you ask me to believe. You suppose me mad, I think.' -</p> -<p> -As she faced him now, she fancied that a smile broke upon that face so -indistinctly seen. His voice, as he answered her, was very soft. -</p> -<p> -'It is not mad to believe in madness. Madness exists, madonna. Set me -down as suffering from it. The air of the world is proving too strong -and heady, perhaps, for one bred in cloisters. It has intoxicated me, I -think.' -</p> -<p> -She laughed chillingly. 'For once you offer an explanation that goes a -little lame. Your invention is failing, sir.' -</p> -<p> -'Nay, lady; my understanding,' he answered sadly. -</p> -<p> -She set a hand upon his arm. He felt it quivering there, which surprised -him almost as much as the change in her voice, now suddenly halting and -unsteady. -</p> -<p> -'Messer Bellarion, if my suspicions wound you, set them down to my -distraction. It is so easy, so dangerously easy, to believe what we -desire to believe.' -</p> -<p> -'I know,' he said gently. 'Yet when you've slept on what I've said, -you'll find that your safety lies in trusting me.' -</p> -<p> -'Safety! Am I concerned with safety only? To-night you saw my brother...' -</p> -<p> -'I saw. If that is Messer Castruccio's work ...' -</p> -<p> -'Castruccio is but a tool. Come, sir. We talk in vain.' She began to -move along the terrace towards her waiting ladies. Suddenly she paused. -'I must trust you, Ser Bellarion. I must or I shall go mad in this ugly -tangle. I'll take the risk. If you are not true, if you win my trust -only to abuse it and work the evil will of the Regent, then God will -surely punish you.' -</p> -<p> -'I think so, too,' he breathed. -</p> -<p> -'Tell me now,' she questioned, 'what shall you say to my uncle?' -</p> -<p> -'Why, that I have talked with you fruitlessly; that either you have no -knowledge of Barbaresco or else you withheld it from me.' -</p> -<p> -'Shall you come again?' -</p> -<p> -'If you desire it. The way is open now. But what remains to do?' -</p> -<p> -'You may discover that.' Thus she conveyed that, having resolved to give -him her trust, she gave it without stint. -</p> -<p> -They came back into the hall, where stiff and formally Bellarion made -his valedictory bow, then went to take his leave of the Regent. -</p> -<p> -The Regent disengaged himself from the group of which he was the centre, -and, taking Bellarion by the arm, drew him apart a little. -</p> -<p> -'I have made a sounding,' Bellarion informed him. 'Either she mistrusts -me, or else she knows nothing of Barbaresco.' -</p> -<p> -'Be sure of the former, sir,' said the Regent softly. 'Procure -credentials from Barbaresco, and try again. It should be easy, so.' -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap11"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER XI -<br /><br /> -UNDER SUSPICION</h4> - -<p> -At Barbaresco's a surprise awaited Messer Bellarion. The whole company -of plotters swarmed about him as he entered the long dusty room of the -mezzanine, and he found himself gripped at once between the fierce -Casella and the reckless Spigno. He did not like their looks, nor those -of any man present. Least of all did he like the looks of Barbaresco who -confronted him, oily and falsely suave of manner. -</p> -<p> -'Where have you been, Master Bellarion?' -</p> -<p> -He realised that he had need of his wits. -</p> -<p> -He looked round with surprise and contempt in his stare. -</p> -<p> -'Oh, yes, you're conspirators to the life,' he told them. 'You see a spy -in every neighbour, a betrayal in every act. Oh, you have eyes; but no -wit to inform your vision. God help those who trust you! God help you -all!' He wrenched at the arms that held him. 'Let me go, fools.' -</p> -<p> -Barbaresco licked his lips. His right hand was held behind his back. -Stealthily almost he came a step nearer, so that he was very close. -</p> -<p> -'Not until you tell us where you have been. Not then, unless you tell us -more.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion's sneer became more marked; but no fear showed in his glance. -'Where I have been, you know. Hence these tragical airs. I've been to -court.' -</p> -<p> -'To what end, Bellarion?' Barbaresco softly questioned. The others -preserved a frozen, watchful silence. -</p> -<p> -'To betray you, of course.' He was boldly ironical. 'Having done so, I -return so that you may slit my throat.' -</p> -<p> -Spigno laughed, and released the arm he held. -</p> -<p> -'I for one am answered. I told you from the first I did not believe it.' -</p> -<p> -Casella, however, hung on fiercely. 'I'll need a clear answer before -I ...' -</p> -<p> -'Give me air, man,' cried Bellarion impatiently, and wrenched his arm -free. 'No need to maul me. I'll not run. There are seven of you to -prevent me, and reflection may cool your humours. Reflect, for instance, -that, if I were for running, I should not have come back.' -</p> -<p> -'You tell us what you would not or did not do. We ask you what you did,' -Barbaresco insisted. -</p> -<p> -'I'll tell you yet another thing I would not have done if my aim had -been betrayal. I should not have gone openly to court so that you might -hear of my presence there.' -</p> -<p> -'The very argument I employed,' Spigno reminded them, with something of -Bellarion's own scorn in his manner now. 'Let the boy tell his tale.' -</p> -<p> -They muttered among themselves. Bellarion crossed the room under their -black looks, moving with the fearless air of a man strong in the sense -of his own integrity. He slid into a chair. -</p> -<p> -'There is nothing to tell that is not self-evident already. I went to -carry your message to the Princess Valeria; to point out to her the -position of checkmate in which you hold her; to make her realize that -being committed to this enterprise, she cannot now either draw back or -dictate to us the means by which our aims are to be reached. All this, -I rejoice to tell you, I have happily accomplished.' -</p> -<p> -Again it was Barbaresco who was their spokesman. 'All this we may -believe when you tell us why you chose to go to court to do it, and how, -being what you represent yourself to be, you succeeded in gaining -admission.' -</p> -<p> -'God give me patience with you, dear Saint Thomas!' said Bellarion, -sighing. 'I went to court because the argument I foresaw with the -Princess was hardly one to be conducted furtively behind a hedge. It -threatened to be protracted. Besides, for furtive dealing, sirs, bold -and open approaches are best when they are possible. They were possible -to me. It happens, sirs, that I am indeed the adoptive son of Facino -Cane, and I perceived how I might use that identity to present myself at -court and there move freely.' -</p> -<p> -A dozen questions rained upon him. He answered them all in a phrase. -</p> -<p> -'The Ambassador of Milan, Messer Aliprandi, was there to sponsor me.' -</p> -<p> -There was a silence, broken at last by Barbaresco. 'Aliprandi may have -been your sponsor there. He cannot be your sponsor here, and you know -it.' -</p> -<p> -'Aye,' growled white-haired Lungo. 'An impudent tale!' -</p> -<p> -'And a lame one,' added Casella. 'If you had this means of going to -court, why did you wait so long to seize it?' -</p> -<p> -'Other ways were open on former occasions. You forget that Madonna -Valeria was not expecting me; the garden-gate would not be ajar. And I -could not this time go as a painter, which was the disguise I adopted on -the last occasion. Besides, it is too expensive. It cost me five -ducats.' -</p> -<p> -Again their questions came together, for it was the first they had heard -of the disguise which he had used. He told them at last the story. And -he saw that it pleased them. -</p> -<p> -'Why did you not tell us this before?' quoth one. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion shrugged. 'Is it important? So that I was your Mercury, did it -matter in what shape I went? Why should I trouble you with trivial -things? Besides, let me remind you—since you can't perceive it for -yourselves—that if I had betrayed you to the Marquis Theodore, the -Captain of Justice would now be here in my place.' -</p> -<p> -'That, at least, is not to be denied,' said Spigno, and in his vehemence -carried two or three others with him. -</p> -<p> -But the fierce Casella was not of those, nor Lungo, nor Barbaresco. -</p> -<p> -The latter least of all, for a sudden memory had stirred in him. His -blue eyes narrowed until they were almost hidden in his great red -cheeks. -</p> -<p> -'How does it happen that none at court recognized in you the palace -amanuensis?' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion perceived his danger, and learnt the lesson that a lie may -become a clumsy obstacle to trip a man. But of the apprehension he -suddenly felt, no trace revealed itself upon his countenance. -</p> -<p> -'It is possible some did. What then? Neither identity contradicts the -other. And remember, pray, that Messer Aliprandi was there to avouch -me.' -</p> -<p> -'But he cannot avouch you here,' Barbaresco said again, and sternly -asked: 'Who can?' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion looked at him, and from him to the others who seemed to await -almost in breathlessness his answer. -</p> -<p> -'Do you demand of me proof that I am the adoptive son of Facino Cane?' -he asked. -</p> -<p> -'So much do we demand it that unless you can afford it your sands are -run, my cockerel,' Casella answered him, his fingers on his dagger as he -spoke. -</p> -<p> -It was a case for bold measures if he would gain time. Given this, he -knew that all things may become possible, and there was one particular -thing his shrewd calculations accounted probable here if only he could -induce them to postpone until to-morrow the slitting of his throat. -</p> -<p> -'So be it. From here to Cigliano it is no more than a day's ride on a -good horse. Let one of you go ask the Abbot of the Grazie the name of -him Facino left in the convent's care.' -</p> -<p> -'A name?' cried Casella, sneering. 'Is that all the proof?' -</p> -<p> -'All if the man who goes is a fool. If not he may obtain from the Abbot -a minute description of this Bellarion. If more is needed I'll give you -a note of the clothes I wore and the gear and money with which I left -the Grazie that you may obtain confirmation of that, too.' -</p> -<p> -But Barbaresco was impatient. 'Even so, what shall all this prove? It -cannot prove you true. It cannot prove that you are not a spy sent -hither to betray and sell us.' -</p> -<p> -'No,' Bellarion agreed. 'But it will prove that the identity on which I -won to court is what I represent it, and that will be something as a -beginning. The rest—if there is more—can surely wait.' -</p> -<p> -'And meanwhile ...?' Casella was beginning. -</p> -<p> -'Meanwhile I am in your hands. You're never so blood-thirsty that you -cannot postpone murdering me until you've verified my tale?' -</p> -<p> -That was what they fell to discussing among themselves there in his very -presence, affording him all the excitement of watching the ball of his -fate tossed this way and that among the disputants. -</p> -<p> -In the end the game might have gone against him but for Count Spigno, -who laboured Bellarion's own argument that if he had betrayed them he -would never have incurred the risk of returning amongst them. -</p> -<p> -In the end they deprived Bellarion of the dagger which was his only -weapon, and then Barbaresco, Casella, and Spigno jointly conducted him -above-stairs to a shabby chamber under the roof. It had no windows, -whence an evasion might be attempted, and was lighted by a glazed oblong -some ten feet overhead at the highest part of the sharply sloping -ceiling. It contained no furniture, nor indeed anything beyond some -straw and sacking in a corner which he was bidden to regard as his bed -for that night and probably for the next. -</p> -<p> -They pinioned his wrists behind him for greater safety, and Casella bade -him be thankful that the cord was not being tightened about his neck -instead. Upon that they went out, taking the light with them, locking -the door, and leaving him a prisoner in the dark. -</p> -<p> -He stood listening to their footsteps receding down the stairs, then he -looked up at the oblong of moonlight in his ceiling. If the glass were -removed, there would be room for a man to pass through and gain the -roof. But considering the slope of it, the passage might as easily lead -to a broken neck as to liberty, and in any case he had neither the power -nor the means to reach it. -</p> -<p> -He squatted upon the meagre bedding, with his chin almost upon his -knees, in an attitude of extreme discomfort, making something in the -nature of an assessment of his mental and emotional equipment. Seen now -from the point of view of cold reason to which danger had sharply -brought him, his career since leaving the peace of the Grazie a week ago -seemed fantastic and incredible. Destiny had made sport with him. -Sentimentality had led him by the nose. He had mixed himself in the -affairs of a state through which he was no more than a wayfarer, because -moved to interest in the fortunes of a young woman of exalted station -who would probably dismiss his memory with a sigh when she came to learn -how his throat had been cut by the self-seeking fools with whom so -recklessly she had associated herself. It was, he supposed, a -manifestation of that romantic and unreasonable phenomenon known as -chivalry. If he extricated himself alive from this predicament, he would -see to it that whatever follies he committed in the future, chivalry -would certainly not be found amongst them. Experience had cured him of -any leanings in that direction. It had also inspired doubts of the -infallibility of his syllogism on the subject of evil. He suspected a -flaw in it somewhere. For evil most certainly existed. His respect for -the value of experience was rapidly increasing. -</p> -<p> -He shifted his position, stretched himself out, and lay on his side, -contemplating the patch of moonlight on the floor, and speculating upon -his chances of winning out of this death-trap. Of these he took an -optimistic view. The assistance upon which Bellarion chiefly counted was -that of the traitor amongst the conspirators, whom he strove vainly to -identify in the light of their behaviour that evening. Spigno had been -the only one who by advocating Bellarion's cause had procured him this -respite. Yet Spigno was one of the first to spring upon him dagger in -hand, on his return from court. But the traitor, whoever he might be, -would probably report the event to the Marquis Theodore, and the Marquis -should take steps directly or indirectly to procure the release of one -whom he must now regard as a valuable agent. -</p> -<p> -That, thought Bellarion, was the probability. Meanwhile he would -remember that probabilities are by no means certainties, and he would be -watchful for an opportunity to help himself. -</p> -<p> -On these reflections he must have fallen asleep, and he must have slept -for some time, for, when suddenly he awakened, the patch of moonlight -was gone from the floor. That was his first conscious observation; his -second what that something was stirring near at hand. He raised himself -on his elbow, an operation by no means easy with pinioned wrists, and -turned his head in the direction of the sound, to perceive a faint but -increasing rhomb of light from the direction of the doorway, and to -understand with the next heartbeat that the door was being slowly and -stealthily pushed open. -</p> -<p> -That was, he afterwards confessed, his first real acquaintance with the -emotion of fear; fear that roughened his skin and chilled his spine; -fear inspired by the instantaneous conviction that here came some one to -murder him as he lay there bound and helpless. -</p> -<p> -The suspense was but of seconds, yet in those seconds Bellarion seemed -to live an age as he watched that slowly widening gap and the faint -light which increased in area but hardly in illumination. Then the -shadowy form of a man slipped through, darkly discernible in the faint -glow from the veiled light he carried. -</p> -<p> -Very softly came his voice: 'Sh! Quiet! Make no sound!' -</p> -<p> -The note of warning partially calmed the tumult of Bellarion's heart, -which was thudding in his throat as if to suffocate him. -</p> -<p> -As quietly as it had been opened the door was closed again, a thin and -partially translucent mantle was pulled from the lantern it had been -muffling, and the light beating through the horn panes was reflected -from the floor and walls upon the lean, aquiline features of Count -Spigno. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion uttered something that sounded like a chuckle. -</p> -<p> -'I was expecting you,' said he. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap12"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER XII -<br /><br /> -COUNT SPIGNO</h4> - -<p> -Spigno set the lantern on the floor, and came forward. 'No need to -talk,' he muttered. 'Roll over so that I can free your hands.' He drew -his dagger and with it cut Bellarion's bonds. -</p> -<p> -'Take off your shoes. Make haste.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion squatted upon his bedding, and with blundering fingers, still -numb from the thong, he removed his footgear. His wits worked briskly, -and it was not at all upon the subject of his escape that they were -busy. Despite his late resolves, and although still far from being out -of peril, with the chance of salvation no more than in sight, he was -already at his knight-errantry again. -</p> -<p> -He stood up at last, and Spigno was whispering urgently. -</p> -<p> -'Wait! We must not go together. Give me five minutes to win clear; then -follow.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion considered him, and his eyes were very grave. -</p> -<p> -'But when my evasion is discovered ...' he was beginning. -</p> -<p> -Spigno impatiently broke in, explaining hurriedly. -</p> -<p> -'I am the last they will suspect. The others are all here to-night. But -I pleaded urgent reasons why I could not remain. I made a pretence of -departing; then hid below until all were asleep. They will be at each -other's throats in the morning over this.' He smiled darkly in -satisfaction of his cunning. 'I'll take the light. You know your way -about this house better than I do. Tread softly when you come.' -</p> -<p> -He was turning to take up the lantern when Bellarion arrested him. -</p> -<p> -'You'll wait for me outside?' -</p> -<p> -'To what end? Nay, now. There is no purpose in that.' -</p> -<p> -'Let me come with you, then. If I should stumble in the dark they'll be -upon me.' -</p> -<p> -'Take care that you do not.' -</p> -<p> -'At least leave me your dagger since you take the light.' -</p> -<p> -'Here, then.' Spigno unsheathed and surrendered the weapon to him. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion gripped the hilt. With very sombre eyes he considered the -Count. Then the latter turned aside again for the lantern. -</p> -<p> -'A moment,' said Bellarion. -</p> -<p> -'What now?' -</p> -<p> -Impatiently Spigno faced once more the queer glance of those dark eyes, -and in that moment Bellarion stabbed him. -</p> -<p> -It was a swift, hard-driven, merciful stroke that found the unfortunate -man's heart and quenched his life before he had time to realise that it -was threatened. -</p> -<p> -Without a sound he reeled back under the blow. Bellarion's left arm went -round his shoulders to ease him to the ground. But Spigno's limbs sagged -under him. He sank through Bellarion's embrace like an empty sack, and -then rolled over sideways. -</p> -<p> -The murderer choked back a sob. His legs were trembling like empty hose -with which the wind makes sport. His face was leaden-hued and his sight -was blurred by tears. He went down on his knees beside the dead count, -turned him on his back, straightened out the twitching limbs, and folded -the arms across the breast. Nor did he rise when this was done. -</p> -<p> -In slaying Count Spigno, he had performed a necessary act; necessary in -the service to which he had dedicated himself. Thus at a blow he had -shattered the instrument upon which the Marquis Theodore was depending -to encompass his nephew's ruin; and the discovery to-morrow of Spigno's -death and Bellarion's own evasion, in circumstances of unfathomable -mystery, must strike such terror into the hearts of the conspirators -that there would probably be an end to the plotting which served no -purpose but to advance the Regent's schemes. -</p> -<p> -Yet, despite these heartening reflections, Bellarion could not shake off -his horror. He had done murder, and he had done it in cold blood, -deliberate and calculatingly. Worse than all—his convent rearing -asserting itself here—he had sent a man unshriven to confront his -Maker. He hoped that the unexpectedness with which Spigno's doom had -overtaken him would be weighed in the balance against the sins which -death had surprised upon him. -</p> -<p> -That is why he remained on his knees and with joined hands prayed -fervently and passionately for the repose of the soul which he had -despatched to judgment. So intent was he that he took no heed of the -precious time that was meanwhile speeding. For perhaps a quarter of an -hour he continued there in prayer, then crossing himself he rose at last -and gave thought to his own escape. -</p> -<p> -Thrusting his shoes into his belt and muffling the lantern as Spigno had -muffled it, he set out, the naked dagger in his right hand. -</p> -<p> -A stair creaked under his step and then another, and each time he -checked and caught his breath, listening intently. Once he fancied that -he heard a movement below, and the sound so alarmed him that it was some -moments before he could proceed. -</p> -<p> -He gained the floor below in safety, and rounding the balusters -continued his cautious descent towards the mezzanine, where, as he knew, -Barbaresco slept. Midway down he heard that sound again, this time -unmistakably the sound of some one moving in the passage to the right, -in the direction of Barbaresco's room. He stopped abruptly, and thrust -the muffled lantern behind him, so that the faint glow of it might not -beat downwards upon the gloom to betray him. He was conscious of pulses -drumming in his temples, for shaken by the night's events he was now -become an easy prey to fear. -</p> -<p> -Suddenly to his increasing horror, another, stronger light fell along -the passage. It grew steadily as he watched it, and with it came a sound -of softly shod feet, a mutter in a voice that he knew for Barbaresco's, -and an answering mutter in the high-pitched voice of Barbaresco's old -servant. -</p> -<p> -His first impulse was to turn and flee upwards, back the way he had -come. But thus he would be rushing into a trap, which would be closed by -Barbaresco's guests, who slept most probably above. -</p> -<p> -Then, bracing himself for whatever fate might send, he bounded boldly -and swiftly forward, no longer troubling to tread lightly. His aim was -to round the stairs and thereafter trust to speed to complete the -descent and gain the street. But the noise he made brought Barbaresco -hurrying forward, and at the foot of that flight they confronted each -other, Bellarion's way barred by the gentleman of Casale who loosed at -sight of him a roar that roused the house. -</p> -<p> -Barbaresco was in bedgown and slippers, a candle in one hand; his -servant following at his heels. He was unarmed. But not on that account -could he shirk the necessity of tackling and holding this fugitive, -whose flight itself was an abundant advertisement of his treachery, and -whose evasion now might be attended by direst results. -</p> -<p> -He passed the candle to his servant, and flung himself bodily upon -Bellarion, pinning the young man's arms to his sides, and roaring -lustily the while. Bellarion struggled silently and grimly in that -embrace which was like the hug of a bear, for despite his corpulence -Barbaresco was as strong as he was heavy. But the grip he had taken, -whilst having the advantage of pinning down the hand that held the -dagger, was one that it is impossible long to maintain upon an opponent -of any vigour; and before he could sufficiently bend him to receive his -weight, Bellarion had broken loose. Old Andrea, the servant, having set -the candle upon the floor, was running in now to seize Bellarion's legs. -He knocked Andrea over, winded by a well-directed kick in the stomach, -then swung aloft his dagger as Barbaresco rushed at him again. It was in -his mind, as he afterwards declared, that he did not desire another -murder on his soul that night. But if another murder there must be, he -preferred that it should not be his own. So he struck without pity. -Barbaresco swerved, throwing up his right arm to parry the blow, and -received the long blade to the hilt in his fleshy forearm. -</p> -<p> -He fell back, clapping his hand to the bubbling wound and roaring like a -bull in pain, just as Casella, almost naked, but sword in hand, came -bounding down the stairs with Lungo and yet another following. -</p> -<p> -For a second it seemed to Bellarion that he had struck too late. If he -attempted now to regain the staircase he must inevitably be cut off, and -how could he hope with a dagger to meet Casella's sword? Then, on a new -thought, he darted forward, and plunged into the long room of that -mezzanine. He slammed the door, and shot home the bolts, before Casella -and Lungo brought up against it on the other side. -</p> -<p> -He uncovered at last his lantern and set it down. He dragged the heavy -table across the door, so as to reënforce it against their straining -shoulders. Then snatching up the cloak in which the lantern had been -muffled he made for the window, and threw it open. -</p> -<p> -He paused to put on his shoes, what time the baffled conspirators were -battering and straining at the door. Then he forced the naked dagger as -far as it would go into the empty sheath that dangled from his own belt, -and tied a corner of the cloak securely to one of the stone mullions so -that some five or six feet of it dangled below the sill. Onto this sill -he climbed, turned, knelt, and laid hold of the cloak with both hands. -</p> -<p> -He had but to let himself down hand over hand for the length of cloth, -and then only an easy drop of a few feet would lie between himself and -safety. -</p> -<p> -But even as he addressed himself to this, the house-door below was -opened with a clatter, and out into the street sprang two of the -conspirators. -</p> -<p> -He groaned as he looked down upon them from his precarious position. -Whilst they, in their shirts, capering fantastically as it seemed to him -in the shaft of light that cut athwart the gloom from the open door, -brandished their glittering blades and waited. -</p> -<p> -Since there could be no salvation in climbing back, he realised that he -was at the end of the wild career he had run since leaving the peace of -the Grazie a week ago. A week! He had lived a lifetime in that week, and -he had looked more than once in the face of death. He thought of the -Abbot's valedictory words: '<i>Pax multa in cella, foris autem plurima -bella</i>.' What would he not give now to be back in the peace of that -convent cell! -</p> -<p> -As he hung there, between two deaths, he sought to compose his mind to -prayer, to prepare his soul for judgment, by an act of contrition for -his sins. Nor could he in that supreme hour take comfort in his old -heresy that sin is a human fiction. -</p> -<p> -And then, even as his despair of body and spirit touched its nadir, he -caught a sound that instantly heartened him: the approach of regularly -tramping feet. -</p> -<p> -Those below heard it, too. The watch was on its rounds. The murderous -twain took counsel for a moment. Then, fearing to be surprised there, -they darted through the doorway, and closed the door again, just as the -patrol with lanterns swinging from their halberts came round the corner -not a dozen yards away. -</p> -<p> -With nothing to fear from these, Bellarion now let himself swiftly down -the length of the cloak and dropped lightly to the ground. -</p> -<p> -He was breathing easily and oddly disposed to laugh when the officer -came up with him, and the patrol of six made a half-circle round him. -</p> -<p> -'What's this?' he was challenged. 'Why do you prefer a window to a door, -my friend?' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion was still seeking a plausible answer when the officer's face -came nearer to his own upon which the light was beating down. -Recognition was mutual. It was that same officer who had hunted him from -the tavern of the Stag to the Palace gardens. -</p> -<p> -'By the Blood!' cried Messer Bernabó. 'It is Lorenzaccio's fleet young -friend. Well met, my cockerel! I've been seeking you this week. You -shall tell me where you've been hiding.' -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap13"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER XIII -<br /><br /> -THE TRIAL</h4> - -<p> -The court of the Podestà of Casale was commonly well attended, and -often some of the attendance would be distinguished. The Princess -Valeria, for instance, would sometimes sit with the ladies in the little -minstrels' gallery of what had once been the banqueting-hall of the -Communal Palace, and by her presence attest her interest in all that -concerned the welfare of the people of Montferrat. Occasionally, too, as -became a prince who desired to be regarded as a father of his people, -the Marquis Theodore would come to observe for himself how justice was -administered in his name, or in the name of the boy whose deputy he was. -</p> -<p> -On the morning after that affray at Messer Barbaresco's house, both the -Regent and his niece were to be seen in that hall of justice, the latter -aloft in the gallery, the former in a chair placed on the dais alongside -of the Podestà's seat of state. The Regent's countenance was grave, his -brow thoughtful. This was proper to the occasion, but hardly due to the -causes supposed by the spectators. Disclosures now inevitable might win -him an increase of the public sympathy he enjoyed. But because premature -they temporarily wrecked his real aims, wrecked in any case by the death -of his agent Spigno. -</p> -<p> -There were other notabilities present. Messer Aliprandi—who had -expressly postponed his departure for Milan—was seated beside the -Regent. Behind them against the grey stone wall lounged a glittering -group of courtiers, in which Castruccio da Fenestrella was conspicuous. -</p> -<p> -In the body of the court seethed a crowd composed of citizens of almost -every degree, rigidly kept clear of the wide space before the dais by a -dozen men-at-arms forming a square with partisans held horizontally. -</p> -<p> -On the left of the Podestà, who was clothed in a scarlet robe and wore -a flat round scarlet cap that was edged with miniver, sat his two -assessors in black, and below these two scriveners. The Podestà -himself, Angelo de' Ferraris, a handsome, bearded man of fifty, was a -Genoese, to comply with the universal rule throughout Italy that the -high office of justiciary should ever be held by one who was a foreigner -to the State, so as to ensure the disinterestedness and purity of the -justice he dispensed. -</p> -<p> -Some minor cases had briefly been heard and judged, and the court now -awaited the introduction of that prisoner who was responsible for this -concourse above the average in numbers and quality. -</p> -<p> -He came in at last, between guards, tall, comely, with thick glossy -black hair that fell to the nape of his neck, his brave red suit -considerably disordered and the worse for wear. He was pale from lack of -sleep, for he had spent what was left of the night in the town gaol -among the vermin-infested scourings of Casale, where he had deemed it -prudent to maintain himself awake. Perhaps because of this, too, he -suffered a moment's loss of his admirable self-command when upon first -entering there he found himself scanned by eyes so numerous and so -varied. For an instant he paused, disconcerted, experiencing something -of that shyness which is a mixture of mistrust and resentment, peculiar -to wild creatures. But the emotion was transient. Before it could be -remarked, he had recovered his normal poise, and advanced to the place -assigned him on the broad stone flags, bowed to the Regent and the -Podestà, then waited, his head high, his glance steady. -</p> -<p> -On the hush that fell came the Podestà's voice, sternly calm. -</p> -<p> -'Your name?' -</p> -<p> -'Bellarion Cane.' Since that was the name he had given himself when he -had sought the Regent, the lie must be maintained. It was dangerous, of -course. But dangers hemmed him in on every side. -</p> -<p> -'Your father's name?' -</p> -<p> -'Facino Cane is my adoptive father's name. The name of my carnal parents -I do not know.' -</p> -<p> -Desired to explain himself, he did so, and his explanation was a model -of brevity and lucidity. It bore witness to a calm which argued to his -listeners an easy conscience. But the Podestà was to deal with certain -facts rather than uncertain personal impressions. -</p> -<p> -'You came hither a week ago in the company of one Lorenzaccio da Trino, -a bandit with a price on his head. To this one of my officers who is -present bears witness. Do you deny it?' -</p> -<p> -'I do not. It is possible for an honest man to travel in the company of -a rogue.' -</p> -<p> -'You were with him at a house in the district of Casale where a theft -was committed and the owner of which was subsequently murdered here in -the hostelry of the Stag by this same Lorenzaccio whilst in your -company. The murdered man recognised you before he died. Do you confess -to this?' -</p> -<p> -'Confession implies sin and the seeking of forgiveness. I admit the -facts freely. They nowise contradict my previous statement. But that is -not a confession.' -</p> -<p> -'Yet if you were innocent of evil why did you run away from my officer? -Why did you not remain, and state then what you have stated now?' -</p> -<p> -'Because the appearances were against me. I acted upon impulse, and -foolishly as men act when they do not pause first to reflect.' -</p> -<p> -'You found shelter in the house of the Lord Annibale Barbaresco. No -doubt you told him your story, represented yourself as an innocent man -betrayed by appearances, and so moved his compassion.' -</p> -<p> -The Podestà paused. Bellarion did not answer. He let the statement -pass. He knew the source of it. Last night when the officer had roused -the house and announced to Barbaresco his prisoner's supposed -association with Lorenzaccio, Barbaresco had fastened upon it to explain -the events. -</p> -<p> -'Last night you attempted to rob him, and being caught in the act by -Count Spigno, you slew the Count and afterwards wounded the Lord -Barbaresco himself. You were in the act of escaping from the house by -one of its windows when the watch supervened and caught you. Do you -admit all this?' -</p> -<p> -'I do not. Nor will the circumstances. I am a robber, it is said. I -spend a week in Messer Barbaresco's house. On any night of that week I -was alone with him, save only for his decrepit old servant. Yet it is -pretended that I chose as the occasion for robbing him a night on which -seven able-bodied friends are with him. Your potency must see that the -facts are mocked by likelihood.' -</p> -<p> -His potency saw this, as did all present. They saw more. This young -man's speech and manner were those of the scholar he proclaimed himself -rather than of the robber he was represented. -</p> -<p> -The justiciary leaned forward, combing his short pointed beard. -</p> -<p> -'What, then, do you say took place? Let us hear you.' -</p> -<p> -'Is it not within the forms of law that we should first hear my -accuser—this Messer Barbaresco?' Bellarion's bold dark eyes raked the -court, seeking the stout person of his late host. -</p> -<p> -The Podestà smiled a little, and his smile was not quite nice. -</p> -<p> -'Ah, you know the law? Trust a rogue to know the law.' -</p> -<p> -'Which is to make a rogue of every lawyer in the land,' said Bellarion, -and was rewarded by a titter from the crowd, pleased with a sarcasm that -contained more truth than he suspected. 'I know the law as I know -divinity and rhetoric and other things. Because I have studied it.' -</p> -<p> -'Maybe,' said the Podestà grimly. 'But not as closely as you are to -study it now.' Messer de' Ferraris, too, could deal in sarcasm. -</p> -<p> -An officer with excitement spread upon his face came bustling into the -court. But paused upon perceiving that the justiciary was speaking. -</p> -<p> -'Your accuser,' said Messer de' Ferraris, 'you have heard already, or at -least his accusation, which I have pronounced to you. That accusation -you are now required to answer.' -</p> -<p> -'Required?' said Bellarion, and all marvelled at the calm of this man -who knew no fear of persons. 'By what am I so required? Not by the law, -which prescribes that an accused shall hear his accuser in person and be -given leave to question him upon his accusations. Your excellency should -not be impatient that I stand upon the rights of an accused. Let Messer -Barbaresco come forth, and out of his own mouth he shall destroy his -falsehood.' -</p> -<p> -His manner might impress the general, but it did not conciliate his -judge. -</p> -<p> -'Why, rogue, do you command here?' -</p> -<p> -'The law does,' said Bellarion, 'and I voice the law.' -</p> -<p> -'You voice the law!' The Podestà smiled upon him. 'Well, well! I will -be patient as you bid me in your impudence. Messer Barbaresco shall be -heard.' There was an infinite threat in his tone. He leaned back, and -looked round the court. 'Let Messer Barbaresco stand forth.' -</p> -<p> -There was a rustle and mutter of expectation through the court; for this -stiff-necked young cockerel promised to give good entertainment. Then -the excited officer who had lately entered thrust forward into the open -space. -</p> -<p> -'Excellency, Messer Barbaresco is gone. He left Casale at sunrise, as -soon as the gates were opened, and with him went the six whose names -were on Messer Bernabó's list. The captain of the Lombard Gate is here -to speak to it.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion laughed, and was sternly bidden to remember where he stood and -to observe the decencies. -</p> -<p> -The captain of the Lombard Gate stood forth to confirm the other's tale. -A party of eight had ridden out of the town soon after sunrise, taking -the road to Lombardy. One who rode with his arm in a sling he had -certainly recognised for my Lord Barbaresco, and he had recognised three -others whom he named and a fourth whom he knew for Barbaresco's servant. -</p> -<p> -The Regent stroked his chin and turned to the Podestà, who was clearly -taken aback. -</p> -<p> -'Why was this permitted?' he asked sternly. -</p> -<p> -The Podestà was ill-at-ease. 'I had no news of this man's arrest until -long after sunrise. But in any case it is not usual to detain accusers.' -</p> -<p> -'To detain them, no. But to take certain precautions where the features -are so peculiar.' -</p> -<p> -'Their peculiarity, highness, with submission, becomes apparent only in -this flight.' -</p> -<p> -The Regent sank back in his chair, and his pale blue eyes were veiled -behind lowered lids. 'Well, well! I interrupt the course of justice. The -prisoner waits.' -</p> -<p> -A little bewildered, not only by the turn of events, but by the Regent's -attitude, the Podestà addressed Bellarion with a little less judicial -sternness. -</p> -<p> -'You have heard, sir, that your accuser is not here to speak in person.' -</p> -<p> -Again Bellarion laughed. 'I have heard that he has spoken. His flight is -an eloquent testimony to the falsehood of his charge.' -</p> -<p> -'Sir, sir,' the Podestà admonished him. 'You are to satisfy this court. -You are to afford us your own version of what took place that the ends -of justice may be served.' -</p> -<p> -Now here was a change of tone, thought Bellarion, and he was no longer -addressed contemptuously as 'rogue.' He took full advantage of it. -</p> -<p> -'I am to testify? Why, so I will.' He looked at the Regent, and found -the Regent's eyes upon him, stern and commanding in a face that was set. -He read its message. -</p> -<p> -'But there is little to which I can speak, for I do not know the cause -of the quarrel that broke out between Count Spigno and Messer -Barbaresco. I was not present at the beginnings. I was drawn to it by -the uproar, and when I arrived, Count Spigno was already dead. At sight -of me, perhaps because I was a witness and might inform against them, I -was set upon by Messer Barbaresco and his friends. I wounded Barbaresco, -and so got away, locking myself in a room. I was escaping thence by a -window when the watch came up. That is all I can say.' -</p> -<p> -It was a tale, he thought, that must convey to the Regent the full -explanation. But whatever it may have done in that quarter, it did not -satisfy the Podestà. -</p> -<p> -'I could credit this more easily,' said the latter, 'but for the -circumstance that Count Spigno and yourself were fully dressed, whilst -Messer Barbaresco and the others were in their shirts. That in itself -suggests who were the aggressors, who the attacked.' -</p> -<p> -'It might but for the flight of Messer Barbaresco and the others. -Innocent men do not run away.' -</p> -<p> -'Out of your own mouth you have pronounced it,' thundered the Podestà. -'You profess innocence of association with Lorenzaccio. Yet you ran away -on that occasion.' -</p> -<p> -'Oh, but the difference ... The appearances against a single man unknown -in these parts ...' -</p> -<p> -'Can you explain how you and the dead count came to be dressed and the -others not?' It was more than a question. It was a challenge. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion looked at the Regent. But the Regent made no sign. He -continued to eye Bellarion coldly and sternly. Ready enough to tell the -full lie he had prepared, yet he had the wit to perceive that the -Regent, whilst not suspecting its untruth, might find the disclosure -inconvenient, in which case he would certainly be lost. As a spy, he -reasoned, he could only be of value to the Regent as long as this fact -remained undiscovered. So he took his resolve. -</p> -<p> -'Why Count Spigno was dressed, I cannot say. My own condition was the -result of accident. I had been to court last night. I returned late, and -I was tired. I fell asleep in a chair, and slept until the uproar -aroused me.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion fancied that the Regent's glance approved him. But the -Podestà slowly shook his head. -</p> -<p> -'A convenient tale,' he sneered, 'but lame. Can you do no better?' -</p> -<p> -'Can any man do better than the truth?' demanded Bellarion firmly, and -in the circumstances impudently. 'You ask me to explain things that are -outside my knowledge.' -</p> -<p> -'We shall see.' The tone was a threat. 'The hoist has often been known -to stimulate a man's memory and to make it accurate.' -</p> -<p> -'The hoist?' Bellarion's spirit trembled, for all that his mien -preserved its boldness. He looked again at the Regent, this time for -succour. The Regent was whispering to Messer Aliprandi, and almost at -once the Orator of Milan leaned forward to address the Podestà. -</p> -<p> -'My I speak a word in your court, my lord?' -</p> -<p> -The Podestà turned to him in some surprise. It was not often that an -ambassador intervened in the trial of a rogue accused of theft and -murder. -</p> -<p> -'At your good pleasure, my lord.' -</p> -<p> -'With submission, then, may I beg that, considering the identity claimed -by this prisoner and the relationship urged with his magnificence the -Count of Biandrate, the proceedings against him be suspended until this -identity shall have been tested by ordinary means?' -</p> -<p> -The ambassador paused. The Podestà, supreme autocrat of justice, had -thrown up his head, resentful of such very definite interference. But -before he could answer, the Regent was adding the weight of his support -to the Orator's request. -</p> -<p> -'However unusual this may be, Messer de' Ferraris,' he said, in his -quiet, cultured voice, 'you will realise with me that if the prisoner's -identity prove to be as he says, and if his present position should be -the result of a chain of unfortunate circumstances, we should by -proceeding to extremes merely provoke against Montferrat the resentment -of our exalted friend the Count of Biandrate.' -</p> -<p> -Thus was it demonstrated to Bellarion how much may hang upon a man's -wise choice of a parent. -</p> -<p> -The Podestà bowed his head. There was a moment's silence before he -spoke. -</p> -<p> -'By what means is it proposed that the accused's pretended identity -shall be tested?' -</p> -<p> -It was Bellarion who spoke. 'I had a letter from the Abbot of the Grazie -of Cigliano, which this Lorenzaccio stole from me, but which the -officer ...' -</p> -<p> -'We have that letter,' the Podestà interrupted, his voice harsh. 'It -says nothing of your paternity, and for the rest it can prove nothing -until you prove how it was acquired!' -</p> -<p> -'He claims,' Aliprandi interposed again, 'to come from the Convent of -the Grazie of Cigliano, where Messer Facino Cane placed him some years -ago. It should not be difficult, nor greatly delay the satisfaction of -justice, to seek at the convent confirmation of his tale. If it is -confirmed, let one of the fathers who knows him attend here to say -whether this is the same man.' -</p> -<p> -The Podestà combed his beard in silence. 'And if so?' he inquired at -last. -</p> -<p> -'Why, then, sir, your mind will be delivered at least of the prejudice -created by this young man's association with a bandit. And you will be -in better case to judge his share in last night's events.' -</p> -<p> -There, to the general disappointment, ended for the moment the odd -affair of Bellarion Cane, which in the disclosures it foreshadowed had -promised such unusual entertainment. -</p> -<p> -The Regent remained in court after Bellarion's removal, lest it be -supposed that his interest in the administration of justice had been -confined to that case alone. But Messer Aliprandi withdrew, as did most -of those others who came from the palace, and amongst them, pale and -troubled, went the Princess Valeria. To Dionara she vented something of -her dismay and anger. -</p> -<p> -'A thief, a spy, a murderer,' she said. 'And I trusted him that he might -ruin all my hopes. I have the wages of a fool.' -</p> -<p> -'But if he were what he claims to be?' Monna Dionara asked her. -</p> -<p> -'Would that make him any less what he is? He was sent to spy on me, that -he might discover what was plotting. My heart told me so. Yet to the end -I heeded rather his own false tongue.' -</p> -<p> -'But if he were a spy, why should he have urged you to break off -relations with these plotters?' -</p> -<p> -'So that he might draw from me a fuller revelation of my intentions. It -was he who murdered Spigno; Spigno the shrewdest, the most loyal and -trustworthy of them all. Spigno upon whom I depended to curb their -recklessness and yet to give them audacity in season. And this vile -creature of my uncle's has murdered him.' Her eyes were heavy with -unshed tears. -</p> -<p> -'But if so, why was he arrested?' -</p> -<p> -'An accident. That was not in the reckoning. I went to see how they -would deal with that. And I saw.' -</p> -<p> -Madonna Dionara's vision, however, was less clear, or else clearer. -</p> -<p> -'Yet I do not understand why he should murder the Count.' -</p> -<p> -'Do you not?' The Princess laughed a little, quite mirthlessly. 'It is -not difficult to reconstruct the happening. Spigno was dressed, and so -was he. Spigno suspected him, and followed him last night to watch him. -The scoundrel's bold appearance at court was his one mistake, his -inexplicable imprudence. Spigno taxed him with it on his return, pressed -him, perhaps, with questions that unmasked him, and so to save his own -skin this Bellarion slew the Count. Why else are the others all fled? -Because they know themselves detected. Is it not all crystal clear?' -</p> -<p> -The Lady Dionara shook her head. 'If it was your brother's ruin the -Marquis Theodore plotted, this surely frustrates his own ends. If it -were as you say, Messer Bellarion would have spoken out boldly in court, -and told his tale. Why, being what you suppose him, should he keep -silent, when by speaking he could best serve the Regent's purposes?' -</p> -<p> -'I do not know,' the Princess confessed, 'nor does any ever know the -Regent's purposes. He works quietly, craftily, slowly, and he will never -strike until he is sure that the blow must be final. This rogue's -conduct was an obedience to the Regent's commands. Did you not see the -looks that passed between them? Did you not see that when Messer -Aliprandi intervened it was after a whisper from my uncle?' -</p> -<p> -'But if this man were not what he says he is, what can the intervention -avail in the end?' -</p> -<p> -Madonna Valeria was wholly scornful now. 'He may be what he claims and -yet at the same time what I know him to be. Why not? Where is the -contradiction? Yet I dare to prophesy. This Messer Bellarion will not -again be brought to trial. The means will be afforded him of breaking -prison.' -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap14"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER XIV -<br /><br /> -EVASION</h4> - -<p> -Bellarion was returned to the common gaol, which was perched high upon -the city's red wall, to herd once more with the vile pariahs there -incarcerated. But not for long. Within an hour came an order for his -removal to a diminutive stone chamber whose barred, unglazed window -looked out upon a fertile green plain through which the broad, silvery -ribbon of the river Po coiled its way towards Lombardy. -</p> -<p> -Thither a little later in the afternoon came the Marquis Theodore to -visit him, in quest of the true facts. Bellarion lied to him as fluently -as he had lied earlier to the Podestà. But no longer with the same -falsehoods. -</p> -<p> -His tale now went very near the truth. He had come under the suspicion -of the conspirators last night as a result of his visit to court. -Explanations had been demanded, and he had afforded them, as he exactly -stated. But conscience making cowards of the conspirators, they bound -him and locked him in a room until from Cigliano they should have -confirmation of his tale. Count Spigno, fearing that his life might be -in danger, came in the night to set him free. -</p> -<p> -'Which leads me to suspect,' said Bellarion, 'that Count Spigno, too, -was an agent of your potency's. No matter. I keep to the events.' -</p> -<p> -The conspirators, he continued, were more watchful than Spigno -suspected. They came upon the twain just as Bellarion's bonds had been -cut, and Spigno had, fortunately, thrust a dagger into his hand. They -fell upon Spigno, and one of them—the confusion at the moment did -not permit him to say which—stabbed the unfortunate count. -Bellarion would have shared his fate but that he hacked right and left -with fist and dagger, wounding Barbaresco and certainly one other, -possibly two others. Thus he broke through them, flung down the stairs, -locked himself in the room on the mezzanine, and climbed out of the -window into the arms of the watch. -</p> -<p> -'If your highness had not desired me to go to court, this would not have -happened. But at least the conspirators are fled and the conspiracy is -stifled in panic. Your highness is now safe.' -</p> -<p> -'Safe!' His highness laughed hard and cruelly. There was now in his mien -none of that benignity which Montferrat was wont to admire in it. The -pale blue eyes were hard as steel, a furrow at the base of his aquiline -nose rendered sinister and predatory the whole expression of his -countenance. -</p> -<p> -'Your blundering has destroyed the evidence by which I I might have made -myself safe.' -</p> -<p> -'My blundering! Here's justice! Besides, if I were to give the evidence -I withheld from the Podestà, if I were to give a true account of what -happened at Barbaresco's ...' -</p> -<p> -'If you did that!' The Regent interrupted angrily. 'How would it look, -do you suppose? A vagrant rogue, the associate of a bandit was closeted -yesterday with me, and so far received my countenance that he was bidden -to court. It would disclose a plot, indeed. It would be said that I -plotted to fashion evidence against my nephew. Do you think that I have -no enemies here in Casale and elsewhere in Montferrat besides Barbaresco -and his plotters? If Spigno had lived, it would have been different, or -even if we had Barbaresco and the others and could now wring the truth -from them under torment. But Spigno is dead and the others gone.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion deemed him bewildered by his own excessive subtleties. -</p> -<p> -'Does Barbaresco's flight give no colour to my tale?' he asked quietly. -</p> -<p> -'Only until some other tale is told, as told it would be. Then what of -the word of a rascal like yourself? And what of me who depend upon the -word of so pitiful a knave?' -</p> -<p> -'Your highness starts at shadows.' Bellarion was almost contemptuous. -'In the end it may be necessary to tell my tale if I am to save my -neck.' -</p> -<p> -The Regent's look and tone made Bellarion feel cold. -</p> -<p> -'Your neck? Why, what does your neck matter?' -</p> -<p> -'Something to me, however little to your highness.' -</p> -<p> -The Regent sneered, and the hard eyes grew harder still. 'You become -inconvenient, my friend.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion perceived it. The Regent feared lest investigation should -reveal that he had actually fostered the conspiracy for purposes of his -own, using first Count Spigno and then Bellarion as his agents. -</p> -<p> -'Aye, you become inconvenient,' he repeated. 'Duke Gian Galeazzo would -never have boggled over dealing with you. He would have wrung this -precious neck by which you lay such store. Do you thank God that I am -not Gian Galeazzo.' -</p> -<p> -He took the cloak from his left arm. From within its folds he let fall -at Bellarion's feet a coil of rope; from his breast he drew two stout -files which he placed upon Bellarion's stool. -</p> -<p> -'If you remove one of those bars, that should give you passage. Attach -the rope to another, and descend by it at dusk. When you touch ground, -you will be outside the walls. Go your ways and never cross the -frontiers of Montferrat again. If you do, my friend, I promise you that -you shall be hanged out of hand for having broken prison.' -</p> -<p> -'I should deserve it,' said Bellarion. 'Your highness need have no -anxiety.' -</p> -<p> -'Anxiety, you dog!' The Regent measured him with that cold glance a -moment, then swung on his heel and left him. -</p> -<p> -Next morning, when it was learnt that the prisoner had escaped, wild and -varied were the speculations in Casale to explain it, and stern, -searching, and fruitless the inquiry conducted by the governor of the -prison. None was known to have visited Bellarion save only the Marquis -Theodore, and only one person was so mad as to suppose that the Regent -had made possible the evasion. -</p> -<p> -'You see,' said the Princess Valeria to her faithful Dionara. 'Has my -prophecy been fulfilled? Was I not right in my reading of this sordid -page?' But in her dark eyes there was none of the exultation that -verified conjecture so often brings. -</p> -<p> -And at about the same time, Bellarion, having found a fisherman to put -him across the Po beyond Frassinetto, was trudging mechanically along, -safe now in the territory of Milan. But his thoughts went back to -Montferrat and the Princess Valeria. -</p> -<p> -'In her eyes I am a rogue, a spy, a trickster, and perhaps worse, which -matters nothing, for in her eyes I never could have been anything that -signifies. Nor does it really matter that she should know why Spigno -died. Let her think what she will. I have made her and her brother safe -for the present.' -</p> -<p> -That night he lay at an inn at Candia, and reflected that he lay there -at the Princess Valeria's charges, for he still possessed three of the -five ducats she had given him for his needs. -</p> -<p> -'Some day,' he said, 'I shall repay that loan.' -</p> -<p> -Next morning he was up betimes to resume at last in earnest his sorely -interrupted journey to Pavia. But he found that the Muses no longer -beckoned him as alluringly as hitherto. He had in the last few days -tasted stronger waters than those of Castalia's limpid spring. He had -also made the discovery that in fundamental matters all his past -learning had but served to lead him astray. He questioned now his heresy -on the score of sin. It was possible that, after all, the theologians -might be right. Whether sin and evil were convertible terms he could not -be sure. But not only was he quite sure that there was no lack of evil -in the world; he actually began to wonder if evil were not the positive -force that fashions the destinies of men, whilst good is but a form of -resistance which, however strong, remains passive, or else, when active, -commonly operates through evil that it may ultimately prevail. -</p> -<p> -So much for his syllogism which had seemed irrefragable. It had fallen -to dust at the first touch of worldly experience. Yet, for all his -apprehension of the world's wickedness it was with a sigh of regret that -he turned his back upon it. The school of living, striving men called -him now with a voice far stronger than that of Pavia and the learned -Chrysolaras, and reminded him that he was pledged to a service which he -could not yet consider fully rendered. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="BOOK_II">BOOK II</a></h4> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap01_II"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER I -<br /><br /> -THE MIRACLE OF THE DOGS</h4> - -<p> -Bellarion took his way through the low-lying and insalubrious marshlands -about Mortara where the rice-fields flourished as they had flourished -almost ever since the grain was first introduced from China some three -hundred years before. It touched his imagination to know himself -treading the soil of the great State of Milan, a state which Gian -Galeazzo Visconti had raised to such heights of fame and power. -</p> -<p> -From the peace which Gian Galeazzo had enforced at home, as much as from -his conquests abroad, there had ensued a prosperity such as Milan had -never known before. Her industries throve apace. Her weavers of silk and -wool sent their products to Venice, to France, to Flanders, and to -England; the work of her armourers was sought by all Europe; great was -the trade driven with France in horses and fat Lombardy cattle. Thus the -wealth of the civilised world was drawn to Milan, and such was the -development there of banking that soon there was scarcely an important -city in Europe that had not its Lombard Street, just as in every city of -Europe the gold coins of Gian Galeazzo, bearing his snake device, -circulated freely, coming to be known as ducats in honour of this first -Duke of Milan. -</p> -<p> -His laws, if tinctured by the cruelty of an age which held human lives -cheap, were nevertheless wise and justly administered; and he knew how -to levy taxes that should enrich himself without impoverishing his -subjects, perceiving with an intuition altogether beyond his age that -excessive taxation serves but to dry up the sources of a prince's -treasury. His wealth he spent with a staggering profusion, creating -about himself an environment of beauty, of art, and of culture which -overwhelmed the rude French and ruder English of his day with the sense -of their own comparative barbarism. He spent it also in enlisting into -his service the first soldiers of his time; and by reducing a score of -petty tyrannies and some that were of consequence, the coils of the -viper came to extend from the Alps to the Abruzzi. So wide, indeed, were -his dominions become that they embraced the greater part of Northern -Italy, and justified their elevation to the status of a kingdom and -himself to the assumption of the royal crown. -</p> -<p> -In the Castle of Melegnano, where he had shut himself up to avoid the -plague that was crawling over the face of Italy, the regalia was already -prepared when this great prince, whom no human enemy had yet been able -to approach, was laid low by the invincible onslaught of that foul -disease. -</p> -<p> -Because at the time of their great father's death Gian Maria was -thirteen and Filippo Maria twelve years of age, they remained, as Gian -Galeazzo's will provided against such a contingency, under the tutelage -of a council of regency composed of the condottieri and the Duchess -Catherine. -</p> -<p> -Dissensions marked the beginnings of that council's rule, and -dissensions at a time when closest union was demanded. For in the death -of the redoubtable Gian Galeazzo the many enemies he had made for Milan -perceived their opportunity, whilst Gian Galeazzo's great captains, -disgusted with the vacillations of the degenerate Gian Maria, who was -the creature now of this party, now of that, furthered the -disintegration of his inheritance by wrenching away portions of it to -make independent states for themselves. Five years of misrule had -dissipated all that Gian Galeazzo had so laboriously built, and of all -the great soldiers who had helped him to build, the only one who -remained loyal—sharing with the bastard Gabriello the governorship of -the duchy—was that Facino Cane, Count of Biandrate, whom Bellarion -had in his need adopted for his father. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion lay at Vigevano on the second night from Casale, and on the -morrow found a boatman to put him across the broad waters of the Ticino, -then took the road to Abbiategrasso, where the Lords of Milan possessed -a hunting-seat. -</p> -<p> -He sang as he tramped; not from any joyousness of heart, but to dispel -the loneliness that increased upon him with every step that took him -from Casale towards this great city of Milan, this Rome of the North, -which it was his intention to view on his way to Pavia. -</p> -<p> -Beyond Abbiategrasso, finding that he was growing footsore on the hard -and dusty road, he forsook it for the meadows, where fat cattle, the -like of which for bulk he had never seen, were contentedly grazing. -Early in the afternoon by one of the many watercourses that here -intersected the ground, he sat munching the bread and cheese which he -had stuffed into his scrip before leaving Abbiategrasso. -</p> -<p> -From the wood crowning the slight eminence beyond the stream came -presently a confused sound of voices human and canine, a cracking of -whips and other vaguer noises. Suddenly the figure of a man all in brown -broke from the little belt of oaks and came racing down the green slope -towards the water. He was bareheaded, and a mane of black hair streamed -behind him as he ran. -</p> -<p> -He was more than midway across that open space between wood and water -when his pursuers came in sight; not human pursuers, but three great -dogs, three bloodhounds, bounding silently after him. -</p> -<p> -And then from the wood emerged at last a numerous mounted company led by -one who seemed little more than a boy, very richly dressed in -scarlet-and-silver, whose harsh and strident voice urged on the dogs. Of -those who followed, and half perhaps were gay and richly clad like -himself, the rest were grooms in leather, and two of them as they rode -held each in leash six straining, yelping hounds. Immediately behind the -youth who led rode a powerfully built fellow, black-bearded and -black-browed, on a big horse, wielding a whip with a long lash, who -seemed neither groom nor courtier and yet something of both. He, too, -was shouting, and cracking that long whip of his to urge the dogs to -bring down the human quarry before it could reach the water. -</p> -<p> -But terror lent wings to the heels of the hunted man. He gained the edge -of the deep, sluggish stream a dozen yards ahead of the hounds, and -without pause or backward glance leapt wide, and struck the water -cleanly, head foremost. Through it he clove, swimming desperately and -strongly, using in the effort the last remnants of his strength. After -him came the dogs, taking the water almost together. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion, in horror and pity, ran to the spot where the swimmer must -land, and proffered a hand to him as he reached the bank. The fugitive -clutched it and was drawn vigorously upwards. -</p> -<p> -'May God reward you, sir!' he gasped, and again, in a voice of -extraordinary fervour, considering how little really had been -accomplished: 'May God reward you!' Then he dropped on hands and knees, -panting, exhausted, just as the foremost of the dogs came clambering up -the slippery clay of the bank to receive in its throat the dagger with -which Bellarion awaited it. -</p> -<p> -A shout of rage from across the water did not deter him from slitting -the throat of the second dog that landed, and he had hurled the body of -it after the first before that cavalcade brought up on the far side, -vociferous and angry. -</p> -<p> -The third dog, however, a great black-and-yellow hound, had climbed the -bank whilst Bellarion was engaged with the second. With a deep-throated -growl it was upon him, in a leap which bore him backwards and stretched -him supine under the brute's weight. Instinctively Bellarion flung his -left arm across his throat to shield it from those terrible fangs, -whilst with his right he stabbed upwards into the beast's vitals. There -was a howl of pain, and the dog shrank together a little, suspending its -attack. Bellarion stabbed again, and this time his dagger found the -beast's heart. It sank down upon him limp and quivering, and the warm, -gushing blood soaked him almost from head to foot. He heaved aside the -carcass, which was almost as heavy as a man's, and got slowly to his -feet, wondering uneasily what might be the sequel. -</p> -<p> -The young man in red-and-silver was blaspheming horribly. He paused to -scream an order. -</p> -<p> -'Loose the pack on them! Loose the pack, Squarcia!' -</p> -<p> -But the big man addressed, on his own responsibility, had already -decided on action of another sort. From his saddlebow he unslung an -arbalest, which was ready at the stretch, fitted a bolt, and levelled it -at Bellarion. And never was Bellarion nearer death. It was the youth he -had compassionated who now saved him, and this without intending it. -</p> -<p> -Having recovered something of his breath, and urged on by the terror of -those dread pursuers, he staggered to his feet, and without so much as a -backward glance was moving off to resume his flight. The movement caught -the eye of the black-browed giant Squarcia, just as he was about to -loose his shaft. He swung his arbalest to the fugitive, and, as the cord -hummed, the young man span round and dropped with the bolt in his brain. -</p> -<p> -Before Squarcia had removed the stock from his shoulder, to wind the -weapon for the second shot he intended, he was slashed across the face -by the whip of young red-and-silver. -</p> -<p> -'By the Bones of God! Who bade you shoot, brute beast? My order was to -loose the pack. Will you baulk me of sport, you son of a dog? Did I -track him so far to have him end like that?' He broke into obscenest -blasphemy, from which might be extracted an order to the grooms to -unleash the beasts they held. -</p> -<p> -But Squarcia, undaunted either by blasphemy or whiplash, interposed. -</p> -<p> -'Will your highness have that knave kill some more of your dogs before -they pull him down? He's armed, and the dogs are at his mercy as they -climb the bank.' -</p> -<p> -'He killed my dogs, and dog shall avenge dog upon him, the beast!' -</p> -<p> -From that pathetic heap at his feet Bellarion realised the fate that -must overtake him if he attempted flight. Fear in him was blent with -loathing and horror of these monsters who hunted men like stags. -Whatever the crime of the poor wretch so ruthlessly slain under his -eyes, it could not justify the infamy of making him the object of such a -chase. -</p> -<p> -One of the grooms spoke to Squarcia, and Squarcia turned to his young -master. -</p> -<p> -'Checco says there is a ford at the turn yonder, Lord Duke.' -</p> -<p> -The form of address penetrated the absorption of Bellarion's feelings. A -duke, this raging, blaspheming boy, whose language was the language of -stables and brothels! What duke, then, but Duke of Milan? And Bellarion -remembered tales he had lately heard of the revolting cruelty of this -twenty-year-old son of the great Gian Galeazzo. -</p> -<p> -Four grooms were spurring away towards the ford, and across the stream -came the thunder of Squarcia's voice, as the great ruffian again -levelled his arbalest. -</p> -<p> -'Move a step from there, my cockerel, and you'll stand before your -Maker.' -</p> -<p> -Through the ford the horses splashed, the waters, shrunken by a -protracted drought, scarce coming above their fetlocks. And Bellarion, -waiting, bethought him that, after all, the real ruler of Milan was -Facino Cane, and took the daring resolve once more to use that name as a -scapulary. -</p> -<p> -When the grooms reached him, they found themselves intrepidly confronted -by one who proclaimed himself Facino's son, and bade them sternly have a -care how they dealt with him. But if he had proclaimed himself son of -the Pope of Rome it would not have moved these brutish oafs, who knew no -orders but Squarcia's and whose intelligence was no higher than that of -the dogs they tended. With a thong of leather they attached his right -wrist to a stirrup, and compelled him, raging inwardly, to trot with -them. He neither struggled nor protested, realising the futility of both -at present. At one part of the ford the water rose to his thighs, whilst -the splashing of the horses about him added to his discomfort. But -though soaked in blood and water, he still carried himself proudly when -he came to stand before the young Duke. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion beheld a man of revolting aspect. His face was almost -embryonic, the face of a man prematurely born whose features in growing -had preserved their half-modelled shape. A bridgeless nose broad as a -negro's splayed across his fresh-complexioned face, immediately above -the enormous purple lips of his shapeless mouth. Round, pale-coloured -eyes bulged on the very surface of his face; his brow was sloping and -shallow and his chin receded. From his handsome father he inherited only -the red-gold hair that had distinguished Gian Galeazzo. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion stared at him, fascinated by that unsurpassable ugliness, and, -meeting the stare, a frown descended between the thick sandy eyebrows. -</p> -<p> -'Here's an insolent rogue! Do you know who I am?' -</p> -<p> -'I am supposing you to be the Duke of Milan,' said Bellarion, in a tone -that was dangerously near contempt. -</p> -<p> -'Ah! You are supposing it? You shall have assurance of it before we are -done with each other. Did you know it when you slew my dogs?' -</p> -<p> -'Less than ever when I perceived that you hunted with them -deliberately.' -</p> -<p> -'Why so?' -</p> -<p> -'Could I suspect that a prince should so hunt a human quarry?' -</p> -<p> -'Why, you bold dog ...' -</p> -<p> -'Your highness knows my name!' -</p> -<p> -'Your name, oaf? What name?' -</p> -<p> -'What your highness called me. Cane.' Thus again, with more -effectiveness than truth, did he introduce the identity that had served -so well before. 'I am Bellarion Cane, Facino Cane's son.' -</p> -<p> -It was an announcement that produced a stir in that odd company. -</p> -<p> -A handsome, vigorous young man in mulberry velvet, who carried a hooded -falcon perched on his left wrist, pushed forward on his tall black horse -to survey this blood-smeared ragamuffin with fresh interest. -</p> -<p> -The Duke turned to him. -</p> -<p> -'You hear what he says, Francesco?' -</p> -<p> -'Aye, but I never heard that Facino had a son.' -</p> -<p> -'Oh, some by-blow, maybe. No matter.' A deepening malice entered his -evil countenance, the mere fact of Bellarion's parentage would give an -added zest to his maltreatment. For deep down in his dark soul Gian -Maria Visconti bore no love to the great soldier who dominated him. -'We'll rid Facino of the inconvenient incubus. Fall back there, you -others. Line the bank.' -</p> -<p> -The company spread itself in a long file along the water's edge, like -beaters, to hinder the quarry's escape in that direction. -</p> -<p> -Grim fear took hold of Bellarion. He had shot his bolt, and it had -missed its mark. He was defenceless and helpless in the hands of this -monster and his bestial crew. At a command from the Duke they loosed the -thong that bound him to the stirrup, and he found himself suddenly alone -and free, with more than a glimmering in his mind of the ghastly fate -intended for him. -</p> -<p> -'Now, rogue,' the Duke shrilled at him, 'let us see you run.' He swung -to Squarcia. 'Two dogs,' he commanded. -</p> -<p> -Squarcia detached two hounds from a pack of six which a groom held in -leash. Holding each by its collar, he went down on one knee between -them, awaiting the Duke's command for their release. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion meanwhile had not moved. In fascinated horror he watched these -preparations, almost incredulous of their obvious purport. He was not to -know that the love of the chase which had led Bernabó Visconti to frame -game laws of incredible barbarity, had been transmitted to his grandson -in a form that was loathsomely depraved. The deer and the wild boar -which had satisfied the hunting instincts of the terrible Bernabó were -inadequate for the horrible lusts of Gian Maria; the sport their agonies -yielded could not compare in his eyes with the sport to be drawn from -the chase of human quarries, to which his bloodhounds were trained by -being fed on human flesh. -</p> -<p> -'You are wasting time,' the Duke admonished him. 'In a moment I shall -loose the dogs. Be off while you may, and if you are fleet enough, your -heels may save your throat.' But he laughed slobberingly over the words, -which were merely intended to befool the wretched victim with a false -hope that should stimulate him to afford amusement. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion, white-faced, with such a terror in his soul as he had never -known and should never know again in whatever guise he should find death -confronting him, turned at last, and broke wildly, instinctively, into a -run towards the wood. The Duke's bestial laughter went after him, before -he had covered twenty yards and before the dogs had been loosed. His -manhood, his human dignity, rose in revolt, conquering momentarily even -his blind terror. He checked and swung round. Not another yard would he -run to give sport to that pink-and-silver monster. -</p> -<p> -The Duke, seeing himself thus in danger of being cheated, swore at him -foully. -</p> -<p> -'He'll run fast enough, highness, when I loose the dogs,' growled -Squarcia. -</p> -<p> -'Let go, then.' -</p> -<p> -As Bellarion stood there, the breeze ruffling the hair about his neck, -the hounds bounded forward. His senses swam, a physical nausea possessed -him. Yet, through swooning reason, he resolved to offer no resistance so -that this horror might be the sooner ended. They would leap for his -throat, he knew, and so that he let them have their way, it would -speedily be done. -</p> -<p> -He closed his eyes. He groaned. 'Jesus!' And then his lips began to -shape a prayer, the first that occurred to him, mechanically almost: -'<i>In manus tuas, Domine</i> ...' -</p> -<p> -The dogs had reached him. But there was no impact. The eager, furious -leaps with which they started had fallen to a sedate and hesitating -approach. They sniffed the air, and, at close quarters now, they -crouched down, nosing him, their bellies trailing in the grass, their -heavy tails thumping the ground, in an attitude of fawning submission. -</p> -<p> -There were cries of amazement from the ducal party. Amazement filled the -soul of Bellarion as he looked down upon those submissive dogs, and he -sought to read the riddle of their behaviour, thought, indeed, of divine -intervention, such as that by which the saints of God had at times been -spared from the inhumanities of men. -</p> -<p> -And this, too, was the thought of more than one of the spectators. It -was the thought of the brutal Squarcia, who, rising from the -half-kneeling attitude in which he had remained, now crossed himself -mechanically. -</p> -<p> -'Miracle!' he cried in a voice that was shaken by supernatural fears. -</p> -<p> -But the Duke, looking on with a scowl on his shallow brow, raged forth -at that. The Visconti may never have feared man; but most of them had -feared God. Gian Maria was not even of these. -</p> -<p> -'We'll test this miracle, by God!' he cried. 'Loose me two more dogs, -you fool.' -</p> -<p> -'Highness ...' Squarcia was beginning a protest. -</p> -<p> -'Loose two more dogs, or I'll perform a miracle on you.' -</p> -<p> -Squarcia's fear of the Duke was even greater than his fear of the -supernatural. With fumbling, trembling fingers he did as he was bidden. -Two more dogs were launched against Bellarion, incited by the Duke -himself with his strident voice and a cut of his whip across their -haunches. -</p> -<p> -But they behaved even as the first had behaved, to the increasing awe of -the beholders, but no longer to Bellarion's awe or mystification. His -wits recovered from their palsy, and found a physical explanation for -the sudden docility of those ferocious beasts. Right or wrong, his -conclusions satisfied him, and it was without dread that he heard the -Duke raging anew. So long as they sent only dogs against him, he had no -cause for fear. -</p> -<p> -'Loose Messalina,' the Duke was screaming in a frenzy now that thickened -his articulation and brought froth and bubbles to his purple lips. -</p> -<p> -Squarcia was protesting, as were, more moderately, some of the members -of his retinue. The handsome young man with the falcon opined that here -might be witchcraft, and admonished his highness to use caution. -</p> -<p> -'Loose Messalina!' his highness repeated, more furiously insistent. -</p> -<p> -'On your highness's head the consequences!' cried Squarcia, as he -released that ferocious bitch, the fiercest of all the pack. -</p> -<p> -But whilst she came loping towards him, Bellarion, grown audacious in -his continued immunity, was patting the heads and flanks of the dogs -already about him and speaking to them coaxingly, in response to which -the Duke beheld them leaping and barking in friendliness about him. When -presently the terrible Messalina was seen to behave in the same fashion, -the excitement in the Duke's following shed its last vestige of -restraint. Opinions were divided between those who cried 'Miracle!' with -the impious yet credulous Squarcia, and those who cried 'Witchcraft!' -with Messer Francesco Lonate, the gentleman of the falcon. -</p> -<p> -In the Duke's own mind some fear began to stir. Whether of God or devil, -only supernatural intervention could explain this portent. -</p> -<p> -He spurred forward, his followers moving with him, and Bellarion, as he -looked upon the awe-stricken countenances of that ducal company, was -moved to laughter. Reaction from his palsy of terror had come in a -mental exaltation, like the glow that follows upon immersion in cold -water. He was contemptuous of these fellows, and particularly of -Squarcia and his grooms who, whilst presumably learned in the ways of -dogs, were yet incapable of any surmise by which this miracle might be -naturally explained. Mockery crept into that laugh of his, a laugh that -brought the scowl still lower upon the countenance of the Duke. -</p> -<p> -'What spells do you weave, rascal? By what artifice do you do this?' -</p> -<p> -'Spells?' Bellarion stood boldly before him. He chose to be mysterious, -to feed their superstition. He answered with a proverb that made play -upon the name he had assumed. 'Did I not tell you that I am Cane? Dog -will not eat dog. That is all the magic you have here.' -</p> -<p> -'An evasion,' said Lonate, like one who thinks aloud. -</p> -<p> -The Duke flashed him a sidelong glance of irritation. 'Do I need to be -told?' Then to Bellarion: 'This is a trick, rogue. God's Blood! I am not -to be fooled. What have you done to my dogs?' -</p> -<p> -'Deserved their love,' said Bellarion, waving a hand to the great beasts -that still gambolled about him. -</p> -<p> -'Aye, aye, but how?' -</p> -<p> -'How? Does any one know how love is deserved of man or beast? Loose the -rest of your pack. There's not a dog in it will do more than lick my -hands. Dogs,' he added, again with a hint of mysteries, 'have -perceptions oft denied to men.' -</p> -<p> -'Perceptions, eh? But what do they perceive?' -</p> -<p> -And Bellarion yielding to his singular exaltation laughed again as he -answered: 'Ah! Who shall say?' -</p> -<p> -The Duke empurpled. 'Do you mock me, filth?' -</p> -<p> -Lonate, who was afraid of wizardry, laid a hand upon his arm. But the -Duke shook off that admonitory grasp. 'You shall yield me your secret. -You shall so, by the Host!' He turned to the gaping Squarcia. 'Call off -the dogs, and make the knave fast. Fetch him along.' -</p> -<p> -On that the Duke rode off with his gentlemen, leaving the grooms to -carry out his orders. They stood off reluctantly, despite Squarcia's -commands, so that in the end for all his repugnance the kennel-master -was constrained, himself, to take the task in hand. He whistled the dogs -to heel, and left one of his knaves to leash them again. Then he -approached Bellarion almost timidly. -</p> -<p> -'You heard the orders of his highness,' he said in the resigned voice of -one who does a thing because he must. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion proffered his wrists in silence. The Duke and his following -had almost reached the wood, and were out of earshot. -</p> -<p> -'It is the Duke who does this,' that black-browed scoundrel excused -himself. 'I am but the instrument of the Duke.' And cringing a little he -proceeded to do the pinioning, but lightly so that the thong should not -hurt the prisoner, a tenderness exercised probably for the first time in -his career as the villainous servant of a villainous master. His hands -trembled at the task, which again was a thing that had never happened -yet. The truth is that Squarcia was inspired by another fear as great as -his dread of the supernatural. On both counts he desired to stand well -with this young man. -</p> -<p> -He cast a glance over his shoulder to satisfy himself that the grooms -were out of earshot. -</p> -<p> -'Be sure,' he muttered in his dense black beard, 'that his excellency -the Count of Biandrate shall know of your presence within an hour of our -arrival in Milan.' - -</p> -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap02_II"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER II -<br /><br /> -FACINO CANE</h4> - -<p> -On the ground that they had far to travel, but in reality to spare this -unwelcome prisoner, Bellarion was mounted on the crupper of Squarcia's -great horse, his lightly pinioned wrists permitting him to hang on by -the kennelmaster's belt. -</p> -<p> -Thus he made his first entrance into the fair city of Milan as dusk was -descending. Some impression of the size and strength of it Bellarion -gathered when, a couple of miles away, they made a momentary halt on a -slight eminence in the plain. And though instruction had prepared him -for an imposing spectacle, it had not prepared for what he actually -beheld. He gazed in wonder on the great spread of those massive red -walls reflected in a broad navigable moat, which was a continuation of -the Ticinello, and, soaring above these, the spires of a half-dozen -churches, among which he was able from what he had read to identify the -slender belfry of Sant' Eustorgio and the octagonal brick and marble -tower, surmounted by its headless gilded angel, belonging to the church -of Saint Gotthard, built in honour of the sainted protector of the gouty -by the gout-ridden Azzo Visconti a hundred years ago. -</p> -<p> -They entered the city by the Porta Nuova, a vast gateway, some of whose -stonework went back to Roman times, having survived Barbarossa's -vindictive demolition nearly three centuries ago. Over the drawbridge -and through the great archway they came upon a guard-house that was in -itself a fortress, before whose portals lounged a group of -brawny-bearded mercenaries, who talked loudly amongst themselves in the -guttural German of the Cantons. Then along Borgo Nuovo, a long street in -which palace stood shoulder to shoulder with hovel, and which, though -really narrow by comparison with other streets of Milan, appeared -generously broad to Bellarion. The people moving in this thoroughfare -were as oddly assorted as the dwellings that flanked it. Sedately -well-nourished, opulent men of the merchant class, glittering nobles -attended by armed lackeys with blazons on their breasts, some mounted, -but more on foot, were mingled here with aproned artisans and with -gaunt, ragged wretches of both sexes whose aspect bespoke want and -hunger. For there was little of the old prosperity left in Milan under -the rule of Gian Maria. -</p> -<p> -Noble and simple alike stood still to bare and incline their heads as -the Duke rode past. But Bellarion, who was sharply using his eyes, -perceived few faces upon which he did not catch a reflection, however -fleeting, of hatred or of dread. -</p> -<p> -From this long street they emerged at length upon a great open space -that was fringed with elms, on the northern side of which Bellarion -beheld, amid a titanic entanglement of poles and scaffolding, a white -architectural mass that was vast as a city in itself. He knew it at a -glance for the great cathedral that was to be the wonder of the world. -It was built on the site of the old basilica of Saint Ambrose, dedicated -to Mariæ Nascenti: a votive offering to the Virgin Mother for the -removal of that curse upon the motherhood of Milan, as a result of which -the women bore no male children, or, if they bore them, could not bring -them forth alive. Gian Galeazzo had imagined his first wife, the sterile -Isabella of Valois, to lie under the curse. Bellarion wondered what Gian -Galeazzo thought of the answer to that vast prayer in marble when his -second wife Caterina brought forth Gian Maria. There are, Bellarion -reflected, worse afflictions than sterility. -</p> -<p> -Gian Galeazzo had perished before his stupendous conception could be -brought to full fruition, and under his degenerate son the work was -languishing, and stood almost suspended, a monument as much to the -latter's misrule as to his father's colossal ambition and indomitable -will. -</p> -<p> -They crossed the great square, which to Bellarion, learned in the -history of the place, was holy ground. Here in the now vanished basilica -the great Saint Augustine had been baptised. Here Saint Ambrose, that -Roman prefect upon whom the episcopate had been almost forced, had -entrenched himself in his great struggle with the Empress Justina, which -marked the beginnings of that strife between Church and Empire, still -kept alive by Guelph and Ghibelline after the lapse of a thousand years. -</p> -<p> -Flanking the rising cathedral stood the Old Broletto, half palace, half -stronghold, which from the days of Matteo Visconti had been the -residence of the Lords of Milan. -</p> -<p> -They rode under the portcullis into the great courtyard of the Arrengo, -which derived a claustral aspect from its surrounding porticoes, and -passed into the inner quadrangle known as the Court of Saint Gotthard. -Here the company dismounted, and to Lonate, who held his stirrup for -him, Gian Maria issued his orders concerning the prisoner before -entering the palace. -</p> -<p> -This bewitcher of dogs, he announced, should make entertainment for him -after supper. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion was conducted to a stone cell underground, which was supplied -with air and as much light as would make a twilight of high noon by a -grating set high in the massive door. It was very cold and pervaded by a -moist, unpleasant, fungoid odour. The darkness and chill of the place -struck through him gradually to his soul. He was very hungry, too, which -did not help his courage, for he had eaten nothing since midday, and not -so much as a crust of bread did his gaolers have the charity to offer -him. -</p> -<p> -At long length—at the end of two hours or more—the Duke's -magnificence came to visit him in person. He was attended by Messer -Lonate and four men in leather jerkins, one of whom was Squarcia. His -highness sought to make up in gaudiness of raiment for what he lacked of -natural endowments. He wore a trailing, high-necked velvet houppelande, -one half of which was white, the other red, caught about his waist by a -long-tongued belt of fine gold mail that was studded with great rubies. -From waist to ground the long gown fell open as he moved showing his -legs which were cased, the one in white, the other in scarlet. They were -the colours of his house, colours from which he rarely departed in his -wear, following in this the example set him by his illustrious sire. On -his head he wore a bulging scarlet cap tufted at the side into a jagged, -upright mass like a cock's comb. -</p> -<p> -His goggling eyes measured the prisoner with a glance which almost sent -a shudder through Bellarion. -</p> -<p> -'Well, rogue? Will you talk now? Will you confess what was the magic -that you used?' -</p> -<p> -'Lord Duke, I used no magic.' -</p> -<p> -The Duke smiled. 'You need a lenten penance to bring you to a proper -frame of mind. Have you never heard of the Lent of my invention? It -lasts for forty days, and is a little more severe than mere fasting. But -very salutary with obstinate or offending rogues, and it teaches them -such a contempt of life that in the end they are usually glad to die. -We'll make a beginning with you now. I dare make oath you'll be as sorry -that you killed my dogs as that my dogs did not kill you.' He turned to -Squarcia. 'Bring him along,' he commanded, and stalked stiffly out. -</p> -<p> -They dragged Bellarion into a larger stone chamber that was as anteroom -to the cell. Here he now beheld a long wooden engine, standing high as a -table, and composed of two oblong wooden frames, one enclosed within the -other and connected by colossal wooden screws. Cords trailed from the -inner frame. -</p> -<p> -The Duke growled an order. -</p> -<p> -'Lay the rogue stark.' -</p> -<p> -Without waiting to untruss his points, two of the grooms ripped away his -tunic, so that in a moment he was naked to the waist. Squarcia stood -aloof, seeking to dissemble his superstitious awe, and expecting -calamity or intervention at any moment. -</p> -<p> -The intervention came. Not only was it of a natural order, but it was -precisely the intervention Squarcia should have been expecting, since it -resulted from the message he had secretly carried. -</p> -<p> -The heavy studded door at the top of a flight of three stone steps swung -slowly open behind the Duke, and a man of commanding aspect paused on -the threshold. Although close upon fifty years of age, his moderately -tall and vigorous, shapely frame, his tanned, shaven face, squarely cut -with prominent bone structures, his lively, dark eyes, and his thick, -fulvid hair, gave him the appearance of no more than forty. A gown of -mulberry velvet edged with brown fur was loosely worn over a dress of -great richness, a figured tunic of deep purple and gold with hose of the -colour of wine. -</p> -<p> -A moment he stood at gaze, then spoke, in a pleasant, resonant voice, -its tone faintly sardonic. -</p> -<p> -'Upon what beastliness is your highness now engaged?' -</p> -<p> -The Duke span round; the grooms stood arrested in their labours. The -gentleman came sedately down the steps. 'Who bade you hither?' the Duke -raged at him. -</p> -<p> -'The voice of duty. First there is my duty as your governor, to see -that ...' -</p> -<p> -'My governor!' Sheer fury rang in the echoing words. 'My governor! You -do not govern me, my lord, though you may govern Milan. And you govern -that at my pleasure, you'll remember. I am the master here. It is I who -am Duke. You'll be wise not to forget it.' -</p> -<p> -'Perhaps I am not wise. Who shall say what is wisdom?' The tone -continued level, easy, faintly mocking. Here was a man very sure of -himself. Too sure of himself to trouble to engage in argument. 'But -there is another duty whose voice I have obeyed. Parental duty. For they -tell me that this prisoner with whom you are proposing to be merry after -your fashion claims to be my son.' -</p> -<p> -'They tell you? Who told you?' There was a threat to that unknown person -in the inquiry. -</p> -<p> -'Can I remember? A court is a place of gossip. When men and women -discover a piece of unusual knowledge they must be airing it. It doesn't -matter. What matters to me is whether you, too, had heard of this. Had -you?' The pleasant voice was suddenly hard; it was the voice of the -master, of the man who holds the whip. And it intimidated, for whilst -the young Duke stormed and blustered and swore, yet he did so in a -measure of defence. -</p> -<p> -'By the bones of Saint Ambrose! Did you not hear that he slew my dogs? -Slew three of them, and bewitched the others.' -</p> -<p> -'He must have bewitched you, Lord Duke, at the same time, since, -although you heard him claim to be my son, yet you venture to practise -upon him without so much as sending me word.' -</p> -<p> -'Is it not my right? Am I not lord of life and death in my dominions?' -</p> -<p> -The dark eyes flashed in that square, shaven face. 'You are ...' He -checked. He waved an imperious hand towards Squarcia Giramo. 'Go, you, -and your curs with you.' -</p> -<p> -'They are here in attendance upon me,' the Duke reminded him. -</p> -<p> -'But they are required no longer.' -</p> -<p> -'God's Light! You grow daily more presumptuous, Facino.' -</p> -<p> -'If you will dismiss them, you may think differently.' -</p> -<p> -The Duke's prominent eyes engaged the other's stern glance, until, -beaten by it, he swung sullenly to his knaves: 'Away with you! Leave -us!' Thus he owned defeat. -</p> -<p> -Facino waited until the men had gone, then quietly admonished the Duke. -</p> -<p> -'You set too much store by your dogs. And the sport you make with them -is as dangerous as it is bestial. I have warned your highness before. -One of these fine days the dogs of Milan will turn upon you and tear out -your throat.' -</p> -<p> -'The dogs of Milan? On me?' His highness almost choked. -</p> -<p> -'On you, who account yourself lord of life and death. To be Duke of -Milan is not quite the same thing as to be God. You should remember it.' -Then he changed his tone. 'That man you were hunting to-day beyond -Abbiate was Francesco da Pusterla, I am told.' -</p> -<p> -'And this rogue who calls himself your son attempted to rescue him, and -slew three of my best dogs....' -</p> -<p> -'He was doing you good service, Lord Duke. It would have been better if -Pusterla had escaped. As long as you hunt poor miscreants, guilty of -theft or violence or of no worse crime than being needy and hungry, -retribution may move slowly against you. But when you set your dogs upon -the sons of a great house, you walk the edge of an abyss.' -</p> -<p> -'Do I so? Do I so? Well, well, my good Facino, as long as a Pusterla -remains aboveground, so long shall my hounds be active. I don't forget -that a Pusterla was castellan of Monza when my mother died there. And -you, that hear so much gossip about the town and court, must have heard -what is openly said: that the scoundrel poisoned her.' -</p> -<p> -Facino looked at him with such grim significance that the Duke's high -colour faded under the glance. His face grew ashen. 'By the Bones of -God!' he was beginning, when Facino interrupted. -</p> -<p> -'This young man here was not to know your motives. Indeed, he did not -know you were the leader of that vile hunt. All that he saw was a -fellow-creature inhumanly pursued by dogs. None would call me a gentle, -humane man. But I give you my word, Lord Duke, that he did what in his -place I hope I should have had the courage to do, myself. I honour him -for it. Apart from that, he told you that his name was Cane. It is a -name that deserves some respect in Milan, even from the Duke.' His voice -grew cold and hard as steel. 'Hunt the Pusterla all you please, -magnificent, and at your own peril. But do not hunt the Cane without -first giving me warning of the intention.' -</p> -<p> -He paused. The Duke, slow-witted ever, stood between shame and rage -before him, silent. Facino turned to Bellarion, his tone and manner -expressing contempt of his ducal master. 'Come, boy. His highness gives -you leave. Put on your tunic and come with me.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion had waited in a fascinated amazement that held a deal of fear, -based on the conviction that he escaped Scylla to be wrecked upon -Charybdis. For a long moment he gazed now into that indolently -good-humoured, faintly mocking countenance. Then, with mechanical -obedience, he took up the garment, which had been reduced almost to -rags, and followed the Count of Biandrate from that stone chamber. -</p> -<p> -Sedately Facino went up the narrow staircase with no word for the young -man who followed in uneasy wonder and dread speculation of what was now -to follow. -</p> -<p> -In a fine room that was hung with Flemish tapestries, and otherwise -furnished with a richness such as Bellarion had never yet beheld, -lighted by great candles in massive gilt candlesticks that stood upon -the ground, the masterful Facino dismissed a couple of waiting lackeys, -and turned at last to bestow a leisurely scrutiny upon his companion. -</p> -<p> -'So you have the impudence to call yourself my son,' he said, between -question and assertion. 'It seems I have more family than I suspected. -But I felicitate you on your choice of a father. It remains for you to -tell me upon whom I conferred the honour of being your mother.' -</p> -<p> -He threw himself into a chair, leaving Bellarion standing before him, a -sorry figure in his tattered red tunic pulled loosely about him, his -flesh showing in the gaps. -</p> -<p> -'To be frank, my lord, in my anxiety to avoid a violent death I -overstated our relationship.' -</p> -<p> -'You overstated it?' The heavy eyebrows were raised. The humour of the -countenance became more pronouncedly sardonic. 'Let me judge the extent -of this overstatement.' -</p> -<p> -'I am your son by adoption only.' -</p> -<p> -Down came the eyebrows in a frown, and all humour passed from the face. -</p> -<p> -'Nay, now! That I know for a lie. I might have got me a son without -knowing it. That is always possible. I was young once, faith, and a -little careless of my kisses. But I could scarcely have adopted another -man's child without being aware of it.' -</p> -<p> -And now Bellarion, judging his man, staked all upon the indolent -good-nature, the humorous outlook upon life which he thought to perceive -in Facino's face and voice. He answered him with a studied excess of -frankness. -</p> -<p> -'The adoption, my lord, was mine; not yours.' And then, to temper the -impudence of that, he added: 'I adopted you, my lord, in my hour of -peril and of need, as we adopt a patron saint. My wits were at the end -of their resources. I knew not how else to avert the torture and death -to which wanton brutality exposed me, save by invoking a name in itself -sufficiently powerful to protect me.' -</p> -<p> -There was a pause in which Facino considered him, half angrily, so that -Bellarion's heart sank and he came to fear that in his bold throw with -Fortune he had been defeated. Then Facino laughed outright, yet there -was an edge to his laugh that was not quite friendly. 'And so you -adopted me for your father. Why, sir, if every man could choose his -parents ...' He broke off. 'Who are you, rogue? What is your name?' -</p> -<p> -'I am called Bellarion, my lord.' -</p> -<p> -'Bellarion? A queer name that. And what's your story? Continue to be -frank with me, unless you would have me toss you back to the Duke for an -impostor.' -</p> -<p> -At that Bellarion took heart, for the phrase implied that if he were -frank this great soldier would befriend him at least to the extent of -furthering his escape. And so Bellarion used an utter frankness. He told -his tale, which was in all respects the true tale which he had told -Lorenzaccio da Trino. -</p> -<p> -It was, when all is said, an engaging story, and it caught the fancy of -the Lord Facino Cane, as Bellarion, closely watching him, perceived. -</p> -<p> -'And in your need you chose to think that this rider who befriended you -was called Facino!' The condottiero smiled now, a little sardonically. -'It was certainly resourceful. But this business of the Duke's dogs? -Tell me what happened there.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion's tale had gone no farther than the point at which he had set -out from Cigliano on his journey to Pavia. Nor now, in answer to this -question, did he mention his adventure in Montferrat and the use he had -made there already of Facino's name, but came straight to the events of -that day in the meadows by Abbiategrasso. To this part of his narrative, -and particularly to that of Bellarion's immunity from the fierce dogs, -Facino listened in incredulity, although it agreed with the tale he had -already heard. -</p> -<p> -'What patron did you adopt to protect you there?' he asked, between -seriousness and derision. 'Or did you use magic, as they say.' -</p> -<p> -'I answered the Duke on that score with more literal truth than he -suspected when I told him that dog does not eat dog.' -</p> -<p> -'How? You pretend that the mere name of Cane ...?' -</p> -<p> -'Oh, no. I reeked, I stank of dog. The great hound I had ripped up when -it was upon me had left me in that condition, and the other hounds -scented nothing but dog in me. The explanation, my lord, lies between -that and miracle.' -</p> -<p> -Facino slowly nodded. 'And you do not believe in miracles?' he asked. -</p> -<p> -'Your lordship's patience with me is the first miracle I have -witnessed.' -</p> -<p> -'It is the miracle you hoped for when you adopted me for your father?' -</p> -<p> -'Nay, my lord. My hope was that you would never hear of the adoption.' -</p> -<p> -Facino laughed outright. 'You're a frank rogue,' said he, and heaved -himself up. 'Yet it would have gone ill with you if I had not heard that -a son had suddenly been given to me.' To Bellarion's amazement the great -soldier came to set a hand upon his shoulder, the dark eyes, whose -expression could change so swiftly from humour to melancholy, looked -deeply into his own. 'Your attempt to save Pusterla's life without -counting the risk to yourself was a gallant thing, for which I honour -you, and for which you deserve well of me. And they are to make a monk -of you, you say?' -</p> -<p> -'That is the Abbot's hope.' Bellarion had flushed a little under the -sudden, unexpected praise and the softening of the voice that bestowed -it. 'And it may follow,' he added, 'when I return from Pavia.' -</p> -<p> -'The Abbot's hope? But is it your own?' -</p> -<p> -'I begin to fear that it is not.' -</p> -<p> -'By Saint Gotthard, you do not look a likely priest. But that is your -own affair.' The hand fell from his shoulder, Facino turned, and -sauntered away in the direction of the loggia, beyond which the night -glowed luminously blue as a sapphire. 'From me you shall have the -protection you invoked when you adopted me, and to-morrow, -well-accredited and equipped, you shall resume the road to Pavia and -your studies.' -</p> -<p> -'You establish, my lord, my faith in miracles,' said Bellarion. -</p> -<p> -Facino smiled as he beat his hands together. Lackeys in his -blue-and-white liveries appeared at once in answer to that summons. His -orders were that Bellarion should be washed and fed, whereafter they -would talk again. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap03_II"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER III -<br /><br /> -THE COUNTESS OF BIANDRATE</h4> - -<p> -Facino Cane and Bellarion talked long together on the night of their -first meeting, and as a result the road to Pavia was not resumed upon -the morrow, nor yet upon the morrow's morrow. It was written that some -years were yet to pass before Bellarion should see Pavia, and then not -at all with the eyes of the student seeking a seat of learning. -</p> -<p> -Facino believed that he discovered in the lad certain likenesses to -himself: a rather whimsical, philosophical outlook, a readiness of wit, -and an admirable command of his person such as was unusual amongst even -the most cultured quattrocentists. He discovered in him, too, a depth -and diversity of learning, which inspired respect in one whose own -education went little beyond the arts of reading and writing, but who -was of an intelligence to perceive the great realms that lie open to -conquest by the mind. He admired also the lad's long, clean-limbed grace -and his boldly handsome, vivid countenance. Had God given him a son, he -could not have desired him other than he found Bellarion. From such a -thought in this childless man—thrust upon him, perhaps, by the very -manner of Bellarion's advent—it was but a step to the desire to bind -the boy to himself by those ties of adoption which Bellarion had so -impudently claimed. That step Facino took with the impulsiveness and -assurance that were his chief characteristics. He took it on the third -day of Bellarion's coming, at the end of a frank and detailed narrative -by Bellarion of the events in Montferrat. He had for audience on that -occasion not only Facino, but Facino's young and languidly beautiful -countess. His tale moved them sometimes to laughter, sometimes to awe, -but always to admiration of Bellarion's shrewdness, resource, and -address. -</p> -<p> -'A sly fox the Marquis Theodore,' Facino had commented. 'Subtlety curbs -ambition in him. Yet his ambition is such that one of these days it will -curb his subtlety, and then Messer Theodore may reap his deserts. I know -him well. Indeed, it was in his father's service that I learnt the trade -of arms. And that's a better trade for a man than priesthood.' -</p> -<p> -Thus from the subject of Theodore he leapt abruptly to the subject of -Bellarion, and became direct at once. 'With those limbs and those wits -of yours, you should agree with that. Will you let them run to waste in -cloisters?' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion sighed thoughtfully. He scented the inspiration of that -question, which fell so naturally into place in this dream in which for -three days he had been living. It was all so different, so contrary to -anything that he could have imagined at the hands of this man with whose -name he had made free, this man who daily bade him postpone the -resumption of his journey until the morrow. -</p> -<p> -Softly now, in answer to that question, he quoted the abbot: '"<i>Pax -multa in cella, foris autem plurima bella</i>." And yet ... And yet is the -peace of the cloisters really better than the strife of the world? Is -there not as much service to be done in righting wrongs? Is not peace -stagnation? Are not activity and strife the means by which a man may -make his soul?' He sighed again. His mention of righting wrongs was no -vague expression, as it seemed, of an ideal. He had a particular wrong -very vividly in mind. -</p> -<p> -Facino, watching him almost hungrily, was swift to argue. -</p> -<p> -'Is not he who immures himself to save his soul akin to the steward who -buried his talents?' -</p> -<p> -He developed the argument, and passed from it to talk of feats of arms, -of great causes rescued, of nations liberated, of fainting right upheld -and made triumphant. -</p> -<p> -From broad principles his talk turned, as talk will, to details. He -described encounters and actions, broad tactical movements and shrewd -stratagems. And then to his amazement the subject was caught up, like a -ball that is tossed, by Bellarion; and Bellarion the student was -discoursing to him, the veteran of a score of campaigns and a hundred -battles, upon the great art of war. He was detailing, from Thucydides, -the action of the Thebans against Platæa, and condemning the foolish -risk taken by Eurymachus, showing how the disastrous result of that -operation should have been foreseen by a commander of any real military -sense. Next he was pointing the moral to be drawn from the Spartan -invasion of Attica which left the Peloponnesus uncovered to the attack -of the Athenians. From that instance of disastrous impetuosity he passed -to another of a different kind and of recent date in the battle of -Tagliacozzo, and, revealing a close acquaintance with Primatus and -Bouquet, he showed how a great army when it thrust too deeply into -hostile territory must do so always at the risk of being unable to -extricate itself in safety. Then from the broad field of strategy, he -ran on, aglow now with a subject of his predilection, to discourse upon -tactics, and chiefly to advocate and defend the more general use of -infantry, to enlarge upon the value of the hedgehog for defensive -purposes against cavalry, supporting his assertions by instancing the -battle of Sempach and other recent actions of the Swiss. -</p> -<p> -It could not be expected that a great leader like Facino, who had -depended all his life upon the use of cavalry, should agree with such -views as these. But the knowledge displayed by this convent-reared -youngster, and the shrewd force and lucidity with which Bellarion, who -had never seen a pitched battle, argued upon matters that were regarded -as mysteries hidden from all but the initiates in the difficult science -of arms, amazed him so profoundly that he forgot to argue at all. -</p> -<p> -Facino had learnt the trade of war by actual practice in a long and hard -apprenticeship. It had never even occurred to him that there was a -theory to be learnt in the quiet of the study, to be culled from the -records of past failure and achievement in the field. Nor now that this -was revealed to him was he disposed to attach to it any considerable -importance. He regarded the young man's disquisitions merely in the -light of interesting mental exercises. But at the same time he concluded -that one who showed such understanding and critical appreciation of -strategy and tactics should, given the other qualities by Facino -considered necessary, be quick to gather experience and learn the -complex military art. Now every man who truly loves the trade by which -he lives is eager to welcome a neophyte of real aptitude. And thus -between Facino and Bellarion another link was forged. -</p> -<p> -Deep down in Bellarion's soul there was that vague desire, amounting as -yet to little more than a fantastic hope, to consummate his service to -that brave Princess of Montferrat. It was a dream, shadowy, indefinite, -almost elusive to his own consciousness. But the door Facino now held so -invitingly open might certainly lead to its ultimately becoming a -reality. -</p> -<p> -They were occupying at the time the loggia of Facino's apartments above -the court of Saint Gotthard. Facino and his lady were seated, one at -each end of that open space. Bellarion stood equidistant from either, -leaning against one of the loggia's slender pillars that were painted -red and white, his back to the courtyard, which lay peaceful now in the -bright sunlight and almost forsaken, for it was the rest hour of early -afternoon. He was dressed in very courtly fashion in a suit of purple -which Facino's wardrobe had supplied. The kilted tunic was caught about -his waist by a belt of violet leather with gold trimmings, and his long -black hair had been carefully combed and perfumed by one of Facino's -servants. He made a brave figure, and the languid sapphire eyes of the -Countess as they surveyed him confirmed for her the conviction already -gathered from his frank and smoothly told tale that between himself and -her husband there existed no relationship such as she had at first -suspected, and such as the world in general would presently presume. -</p> -<p> -'My Lord Count advises you shrewdly, Ser Bellarion,' she ventured, -seeing him thoughtful and wavering. 'You make it very plain that you are -not meant for cloisters.' -</p> -<p> -She was a handsome woman of not more than thirty, of middle height with -something feline in her beautifully proportioned litheness, and -something feline too in the blue-green eyes that looked with sleepy -arrogance from out of her smoothly pallid face set within a straight -frame of ebony black hair. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion considered her, and the bold, direct, appraising glance of his -hazel eyes, which seemed oddly golden in that light, stirred an -unaccountable uneasiness in this proud daughter of the Count of Tenda -who had married out of ambition a man so much older than herself. -Languidly she moved her fan of peacock feathers, languidly surveyed -herself in the mirror set in the heart of it. -</p> -<p> -'If I were to await further persuasions I must become ridiculous,' said -Bellarion. -</p> -<p> -'A courtly speech, sir,' she replied with her slow smile. Slowly she -rose. 'You should make something of him, Facino.' -</p> -<p> -Facino set about it without delay. He was never dilatory when once he -had taken a resolve. They removed themselves next day—Facino, his -lady, his household, and Bellarion—to the ducal hunting-palace at -Abbiategrasso, and there the secular education of Bellarion was at once -begun, and continued until close upon Christmastide, by when some of the -sense of unreality, of dream experiences, began at last to fade from -Bellarion's mind. -</p> -<p> -He was taught horsemanship, and all that concerns the management of -horses. Followed a training in the use of arms, arduous daily exercises -in the tilt-yard supervised by Facino himself, superficially boisterous, -impatient, at times even irascible in his zeal, but fundamentally of an -infinite patience. He was taught such crude swordsmanship as then -obtained, an art which was three parts brute force and one part -trickery; he was instructed in ballistics, trained in marksmanship with -the crossbow, informed in the technicalities of the mangonel, and even -initiated into the mysteries of that still novel weapon the cannon, an -instrument whose effects were moral rather than physical, serving to -terrify by its noise and stench rather than actually to maim. A Swiss -captain in Facino's service named Stoffel taught him the uses of the -short but formidable Swiss halbert, and from a Spaniard named de Soto he -learnt some tricks with a dagger. -</p> -<p> -At the same time he was taken in hand by the Countess for instruction in -more peaceful arts. An hour each evening was devoted to the dance, and -there were days when she would ride forth with him in the open meadows -about the Ticino to give him lessons in falconry, a pursuit in which she -was greatly skilled; too skilled and too cruelly eager, he thought, for -womanhood, which should be compassionate. -</p> -<p> -One autumn day when a northerly wind from the distant snows brought a -sting which the bright sunshine scarcely sufficed to temper, Bellarion -and the Countess Beatrice, following the flight of a falcon that had -been sent soaring to bring down a strong-winged heron, came to the edge -of an affluent of the Ticino, now brown and swollen from recent rains, -on the very spot where Duke Gian Maria had loosed his hounds upon -Bellarion. -</p> -<p> -They brought up there perforce just as overhead the hawk stooped for the -third time. Twice before it had raked wide, but now a hoarse cry from -the heron announced the strike almost before it could be seen, then both -birds plumbed down to earth, the spread of the falcon's great wings, -steadying the fall. -</p> -<p> -One of the four grooms that followed sprang down, lure in hand, to -recapture the hawk and retrieve the game. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion looked on in silence with brooding eyes, heedless of the -satisfaction the Countess was expressing with almost childish delight. -</p> -<p> -'A brave kill! A brave kill!' she reiterated, and looked to him in vain -for agreement. A frown descended upon the white brow of that petulant -beauty, rendered by vanity too easily sensitive to disapproval and too -readily resentful. Directly she challenged him. 'Was it not a brave -kill, Bellarion?' -</p> -<p> -He roused himself from his abstraction, and smiled a little. He found -her petulance amusing ever, and commonly provoked her by the display of -that amusement. -</p> -<p> -'I was thinking of another heron that almost fell a victim here.' And he -told her that this was the spot on which he had met the dogs. -</p> -<p> -'So that we're on holy ground,' said she, enough resentment abiding to -provoke the sneer. -</p> -<p> -But it went unheeded. 'And from that my thoughts ran on to other -things.' He pointed across the river. 'That way I came from Montferrat.' -</p> -<p> -'And why so gloomy about that? You've surely no cause to regret your -coming?' -</p> -<p> -'All cause, indeed, for thankfulness. But one day I shall hope to -return, and in strength enough to hood a hawk that's stooping there.' -</p> -<p> -'That day is not yet. Besides, the sun is sinking, and we're far from -home. So if you're at the end of your dreams we had best be moving.' -</p> -<p> -There was a tartness in her tone that did not escape him. It had been -present lately whenever Montferrat was mentioned. It arose, he -conceived, from some misunderstanding which he could not fathom. Either -to fathom or to dispel it, he talked now as they rode, unfolding all -that was in his mind, more than he knew was in his mind, until actual -utterance discovered it for him. -</p> -<p> -'Are you telling me that you have left your heart in Montferrat?' she -asked him. -</p> -<p> -'My heart?' He looked at her and laughed. 'In a sense you may say that. -I have left a tangle which I desire one day to unravel. If that is to -have left my heart there ...' He paused. -</p> -<p> -'A Perseus to deliver Andromeda from the dragon! A complete -knight-errant aflame to ride in the service of beauty in duress! Oh, you -shall yet live in an epic.' -</p> -<p> -'But why so bitter, lady?' wondered Bellarion. -</p> -<p> -'Bitter? I? I laugh, sir, that is all.' -</p> -<p> -'You laugh. And the matter is one for tears, I think.' -</p> -<p> -'The matter of your love-sickness for Valeria of Montferrat?' -</p> -<p> -'My ...' He gasped and checked, and then he, who a moment ago had gently -chided her for laughing, himself laughed freely. -</p> -<p> -'You are merry on a sudden, sir!' -</p> -<p> -'You paint a comic picture, dear madonna, and I must laugh. Bellarion -the nameless in love with a princess! Have you discovered any other -signs of madness in me?' -</p> -<p> -He was too genuinely merry for deceit, she thought, and looked at him -sideways under her long lashes. -</p> -<p> -'If it is not love that moves you to these dreams, what then?' -</p> -<p> -His answer came very soberly, austerely, 'Whatever it may be, love it -certainly is not, unless it be love of my own self. What should I know -of love? What have I to do with love?' -</p> -<p> -'There speaks the monk they almost made of you. I vow you shuddered as -you spoke the word. Did the fathers teach you the monkish lie that love -is to be feared?' -</p> -<p> -'Of love, madonna, they taught me nothing. But instinct teaches me to -endeavour not to be grotesque. I am Bellarion the nameless, born in -squalor, cradled in a kennel, reared by charity ...' -</p> -<p> -'Beatific modesty. Saintly humility. Even as the dust am I, you cry, in -false self-abasement that rests on pride of what you are become, of what -you may yet become, pride of the fine tree grown from such mean soil. -Survey yourself, Bellarion.' -</p> -<p> -'That, lady, is my constant endeavour.' -</p> -<p> -'But you bring no honesty to the task, and so your vision's warped.' -</p> -<p> -'Should I be honest if I magnified myself in my own eyes?' -</p> -<p> -'Magnified? Why, where's the need. Was Facino more than you are when he -was your age? His birth could not have been less lowly, and he had not -the half of your endowments, not your beauty, nor your learning, nor -your address.' -</p> -<p> -'Lady, you will make me vain.' -</p> -<p> -'Then I shall advance your education. There is Ottone Buonterzo, who was -Facino's brother in arms. Like you he, too, was born in the mud. But he -kept his gaze on the stars. Men go whither they look, Bellarion. Raise -your eyes, boy.' -</p> -<p> -'And break my nose in falling over the first obstacle in my path.' -</p> -<p> -'Did they do this? Ottone is Tyrant of Parma, a sovereign prince. Facino -could be the same if his heart were big enough. Yet in other things he -did not want for boldness. He married me, for instance, the only -daughter of the Count of Tenda, whose rank is hardly less than that of -your lady of Montferrat. But perhaps she is better endowed. Perhaps she -is more beautiful than I am. Is she?' -</p> -<p> -'Lady,' said Bellarion, 'I have never seen any one more beautiful than -you.' The slow solemnity of his delivery magnified and transformed the -meaning of his words. -</p> -<p> -A scarlet flush swept across the ivory pallor of the Countess. She -veiled her eyes behind lids which were lowered until the long lashes -swept her cheek; a little smile crept into the corners of her full and -perfect lips. She reached out a hand, and momentarily let it rest upon -his own as he rode beside her. -</p> -<p> -'That is the truth, Bellarion?' -</p> -<p> -He was a little bewildered to see so much emotion evoked so lightly. It -testified, he thought, to a consuming vanity. 'The truth,' he said -shortly and simply. -</p> -<p> -She sighed and smiled again. 'I am glad, so glad to have you think well -of me. It is what I have desired of you, Bellarion. But I have been -afraid. Afraid that your Princess of Montferrat might ... supply an -obstacle.' -</p> -<p> -'Could any supply an obstacle? I scarcely understand. All that I have -and am I owe to my Lord Count. Am I an ingrate that I could be less than -your slave, yours and my Lord Count's?' -</p> -<p> -She looked at him again, and now she was oddly white, and there was a -hard brightness in her eyes which a moment ago had been so soft and -melting. -</p> -<p> -'Oh! You talk of gratitude!' she said. -</p> -<p> -'Of what else?' -</p> -<p> -'Of what else, indeed? It is a great virtue, gratitude; and a rare. But -you have all the virtues. Have you not, Bellarion?' -</p> -<p> -He fancied that she sneered. -</p> -<p> -They passed from the failing sunlight into the shadows of the wood. But -the chill that fell between them was due to deeper causes. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap04_II"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER IV -<br /><br /> -THE CHAMPION</h4> - -<p> -Facino Cane took his ease at Abbiategrasso in those declining days of -1407 and zestfully devoted himself to the training and education of -Bellarion. It was the first rest the great soldier had known in ten -years, a rest he would never have taken but for the novel occupation -which Bellarion provided him. For Facino was of those who find no peace -in utter idleness. He was of a restless, active mind, and being no -scholar found no outlet for his energy save in physical directions. Here -at Abbiategrasso, away from turbulence, and able for the first time -since Gian Galeazzo's death to live without being perpetually on guard, -he confessed himself happier than he could remember to have been. -</p> -<p> -'If this were life,' he said to Bellarion one evening as they sauntered -through the parklands where the red deer grazed, 'a man might be -content.' -</p> -<p> -'Content,' said Bellarion, 'is stagnation. And man was not made for -that. I am coming to perceive it. The peace of the convent is as the -peace of the pasture to the ox.' -</p> -<p> -Facino smiled. 'Your education progresses.' -</p> -<p> -'I have left school,' said Bellarion. 'You relish this lull in your -activities, as a tired man relishes sleep. But no man would be glad to -sleep his life away.' -</p> -<p> -'Dear philosopher, you should write a book of such sayings for man's -entertainment and information.' -</p> -<p> -I think I'll wait until I am a little older. I may change my mind -again.' -</p> -<p> -It was not destined that the rest by which Facino was setting such store -should endure much longer. Rumours of trouble in Milan began to reach -them daily, and in the week before Christmas, on a morning when a -snowstorm kept them within doors about a great hissing fire in the main -hall, Facino wondered whether he should not be returning. -</p> -<p> -The bare suggestion seemed to anger his countess, who sat brooding in a -chair of brown walnut set at one of the corners of the hearth. -</p> -<p> -'I thought you said we should remain here until spring.' Her tone -revealed the petulance that was ever just under the surface of her -nature. -</p> -<p> -'I was not to know,' he answered her, 'that in the meantime the duchy -would go to pieces.' -</p> -<p> -'Why should you care? It is not your duchy. Though a man might have made -it so by this.' -</p> -<p> -'To make you a duchess, eh?' Facino smiled. His tone was quiet, but it -bore the least strain of bitterness. This was an old argument between -them, though Bellarion heard it now for the first time. 'There are -obstacles supplied by honour. Shall I enumerate them?' -</p> -<p> -'I know them by heart, your obstacles of honour.' She thrust out a lip -that was very full and red, suggesting the strong life within her. 'They -did not suffice to curb Pandolfo or Buonterzo, and they are at least as -well-born as you.' -</p> -<p> -'We will leave my birth out of the discussion, madonna.' -</p> -<p> -'Your reluctance to be reminded of it is natural enough,' she insisted -with malice. -</p> -<p> -He turned away, and moved across to one of the tall mullioned windows, -trailing his feet through the pine-needles and slim boughs of evergreens -with which the floor was strewn in place of rushes, unprocurable at this -season of the year. His thumbs were thrust into the golden girdle that -cinctured his trailing houppelande of crimson velvet edged with lynx -fur. -</p> -<p> -He stood a moment in silence, his broad square shoulders to the room, -looking out upon the wintry landscape. -</p> -<p> -'The snow is falling more heavily,' he said at last. -</p> -<p> -But even upon that her malice fastened. 'It will be falling still more -heavily in the hills about Bergamo where Pandolfo rules ...' -</p> -<p> -He span round to interrupt her, and his voice rasped with sarcasm. -</p> -<p> -'And not quite so heavily in the plain about Piacenza, where Ottone -Buonterzo is tyrant. If you please, madonna, we will change the -subject.' -</p> -<p> -'I do not please.' -</p> -<p> -'But I do.' His voice beat upwards to the tones that had reduced whole -squadrons to instant obedience. -</p> -<p> -The lady laughed, and none too tunefully. She drew her rich cloak of -ermine more closely about her shapely figure. -</p> -<p> -'And of course what you please is ever to be the law. We come when you -please, and we depart again as soon as you are tired of country -solitude.' -</p> -<p> -He stared at her frowning, a little puzzled. 'Why, Bice,' he said -slowly, 'I never before knew you attached to Abbiategrasso. You have -ever made a lament of being brought hither, and you deafened me with -your complaints three months ago when we left Milan.' -</p> -<p> -'Which, nevertheless, did not restrain you from forcing me to come.' -</p> -<p> -'That does not answer me.' He advanced towards her. 'What is this sudden -attachment to the place? Why this sudden reluctance to return to the -Milan you profess to love, the gaieties of the court in which you strain -to shine?' -</p> -<p> -'I have come to prefer peace, if you must know, if you must have reason -for all things. Besides, the court is not gay these days. And I am -reminded there of what it might be; of what you might make it if you had -a spark of real spirit. There's not one of them, not Buonterzo, nor -Pandolfo, nor dal Verme, nor Appiano, who would not be Duke by now if he -had the chance accorded to you by the people's love.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion marvelled to see him still curb himself before this display of -shameless cupidity. -</p> -<p> -'The people's love is mine, Bice, because the people believe me to be -honest and loyal. That faith would leave them the moment I became a -usurper, and I should have to rule by terror, with an iron hand, -as —' -</p> -<p> -'So that you ruled ...' she was interrupting him, when he swept on: -</p> -<p> -'I should be as detested as is Gian Maria to-day. I should have wars on -my hands on every side, and the duchy would become a parade ground.' -</p> -<p> -'It was so in Gian Galeazzo's early days. Yet upon that he built the -greatness of Milan and his own. A nation prospers by victorious war.' -</p> -<p> -'To-day Milan is impoverished. Gian Maria's misrule has brought her -down. However you squeeze her citizens, you cannot make them yield what -they lack, the gold that will hire and furnish troops to defend her from -a general attack. But for that, would Pandolfo and Buonterzo and the -others have dared what they have dared? I have made you Countess of -Biandrate, my lady, and you'll rest content with that. My duty is to the -son of the man to whom I owe all that I have.' -</p> -<p> -'Until that same son hires some one to murder you. What loyalty does he -give you in return? How often has he not tried to shake you from the -saddle?' -</p> -<p> -'I am not concerned so much with what he is as with what I am.' -</p> -<p> -'Shall I tell you what you are?' She leaned towards him, contempt and -anger bringing ageing lines into her lovely white face. -</p> -<p> -'If it will ease you, lady, you may tell me what you think I am. A -woman's breath will neither make nor unmake me.' -</p> -<p> -'A fool, Facino!' -</p> -<p> -'My patience gives proof of that, I think. Do you thank God for it.' -</p> -<p> -And on that he wheeled and sauntered out of the long grey room. -</p> -<p> -She sat huddled in the chair, her elbows on her knees, her dark blue -eyes on the flames that leapt about the great sizzling logs. After a -while she spoke. -</p> -<p> -'Bellarion!' -</p> -<p> -There was no answer. She turned. The long, high-backed form on which he -had sat over against the wall was vacant. The room was empty. She -shrugged impatiently, and swung again to the fire. -</p> -<p> -'And he's a fool, too. A blind fool,' she informed the flames. -</p> -<p> -It was dinner-time when they returned together. The table was spread, -and the lackeys waited. -</p> -<p> -'When you have dined, madonna,' Facino quietly informed her, 'you will -prepare to leave. We return to Milan to-day.' -</p> -<p> -'To-day!' There was dismay in her voice. 'Oh! You do this to vex me, to -assert your mastership. You ...' -</p> -<p> -His raised hand interrupted her. It held a letter—a long parchment -document. He dismissed the servants, then briefly told her his news. -</p> -<p> -There was trouble in Milan, dire trouble. Estorre Visconti, Bernabó's -bastard, together with young Giovanni Carlo, Bernabó's grandson, were -harassing the city in the Ghibelline interest. In a recent raid Estorre -had fired the quarter about the Ticinese Gate. There was want in the -city, and this added to insecurity was rendering the citizens mutinous. -And now, to crown all, was news that, taking advantage of the distress -and unrest, Ottone Buonterzo was raising an army to invade the duchy. -</p> -<p> -'It is Gabriello who writes, and in the Duke's interest begs me to -return immediately and take command.' -</p> -<p> -'Command!' She laughed. 'And the faithful lackey runs to serve his -master. You deserve that Buonterzo should whip you again as he whipped -you a year ago. If he does, I have a notion who will be Duke of Milan. -He's a man, this Buonterzo.' -</p> -<p> -'When he's Duke of Milan, Bice, I shall be dead,' said Facino, smiling. -'So you may marry him then, become his duchess, and be taught how to -behave to a husband. Call the servants, Bellarion.' -</p> -<p> -They dined in haste, a brooding silence presiding over the meal, and -within an hour of dining they were ready to set out. -</p> -<p> -There was a mule litter for the Countess, horses for Facino and -Bellarion, a half-dozen mounted grooms, and a score of lances to serve -as escort. The company of a hundred Swiss, which Facino had taken with -him to Abbiategrasso, were to follow on the morrow under their own -captain, Werner von Stoffel, to guard the baggage which would be brought -in bullock-carts. -</p> -<p> -But at the last moment Facino, who, since rising from table had worn a -thoughtful, undecided air, drew Bellarion aside. -</p> -<p> -'Here's a commission for you, boy,' he said, and drew a letter from his -breast. 'Take ten lances for escort, and ride hard for Genoa with this -letter for Boucicault, who is Vicar there for the King of France. -Deliver it in person, and at need supplement it. Listen: It is to -request from him the hire of a thousand French lances. I have offered -him a fair price in this letter. But he's a greedy fellow, and may -require more. You have authority, at need, to pledge my word for twice -the sum stated. I am taking no risks this time with Buonterzo. But do -not let Boucicault suspect that we are menaced, or he will adapt the -price to our need. Let him suppose that I require the men for a punitive -expedition against some of the rebellious Milanese fiefs.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion asked a question or two, and then professed himself not only -ready, but honoured by the trust reposed in him. -</p> -<p> -They embraced, and parted, Facino to mount and ride away, Bellarion to -await the groom who was to fetch his horse and Werner von Stoffel who -was to detail the men for his special escort. -</p> -<p> -As Facino gave the word to ride, the Countess thrust her head between -the leather curtains of her litter. -</p> -<p> -'Where is Bellarion?' -</p> -<p> -'He does not ride with us.' -</p> -<p> -'He doesn't ...? You are leaving him at Abbiate?' -</p> -<p> -'No. But I have other work for him. I am sending him on a mission.' -</p> -<p> -'Other work?' Her usually sleepy eyes grew wide awake and round. 'What -work?' -</p> -<p> -'Nothing that will imperil him.' He spurred his horse forward to avoid -further questions. 'Push on there!' -</p> -<p> -They reached Milan as dusk was falling, and the snow had ceased. They -entered by Porta Nuova, and went at a trot through the slush and filth -of the borgo. But miraculously the word of Facino's coming ran ahead. -They found the great square thronged with people who had turned out to -acclaim him. -</p> -<p> -Never yet since Gian Galeazzo's death had it happened to Facino to enter -Milan unacclaimed. But never yet had he received so terrific a -manifestation of affection and good will as this. It expressed reaction -from the terror sown by a rumour lately current that even Facino had at -last forsaken Gian Maria's service, leaving the people at the mercy of -their maniacal Duke and of such men as della Torre and Lonate as well as -of the enemies now known to be rising against them. Facino was the -people's only hope. In war he had proved himself a bulwark. In peace he -had been no less their champion, for he had known how to curb the -savagery of his master, and how to bring some order out of the chaos -into which Gian Maria's misrule was plunging the duchy. -</p> -<p> -His presence now in the very hour of crisis, in one of the darkest hours -which Gian Maria's dark reign had provided for them, uplifted them on -wings of confidence to exaggerated heights of hope. -</p> -<p> -As the thunders of the acclamations rolled across the great square to -the Old Broletto, from one of whose windows the Duke looked down upon -his people, Facino, bareheaded, his fulvid hair tossed by the breeze, -his square-cut, shaven face looking oddly youthful for his fifty years, -smiled and nodded, whilst his Countess, drawing back the curtains of her -litter, showed herself too, and for Facino's sake was acclaimed with -him. -</p> -<p> -As the little troop reached the gateway, Facino raised his eyes and met -the glance of the Duke at the window above. Its malevolence dashed the -glow from his spirit. And he had a glimpse of the swarthy, saturnine -countenance of della Torre, who was looking over Gian Maria's shoulder. -</p> -<p> -They rode under the gloomy archway and the jagged teeth of the -portcullis, across the Court of the Arrengo and into the Court of Saint -Gotthard. Here they drew up, and it was a gentleman of Milan and a -Guelph, one of the Aliprandi, who ran forward to hold the stirrup of -Facino the Ghibelline champion. -</p> -<p> -Facino went in his turn to assist his Countess to alight. She leaned on -his arm more heavily than was necessary. She raised her eyes to his, and -he saw that they were aswim in tears. In a subdued but none the less -vehement voice she spoke to him. -</p> -<p> -'You saw! You heard! And yet you doubt. You hesitate.' -</p> -<p> -'I neither doubt nor hesitate,' he quietly answered. 'I know where my -path lies, and I follow it.' -</p> -<p> -She made a noise in her throat. 'And at the window? Gian Maria and that -other. Did you see them?' -</p> -<p> -'I saw. I am not afraid. It would need more courage than theirs to -express in deed their hatred. Besides, their need of me is too urgent.' -</p> -<p> -'One day it may not be so.' -</p> -<p> -'Let us leave that day until it dawn.' -</p> -<p> -'Then it will be too late. This is your hour. Have they not told you -so?' -</p> -<p> -'They have told me nothing that I did not know already—those in the -streets and those at the window. Come, madonna.' -</p> -<p> -And the Countess, raging as she stepped beside him, from between her -teeth cursed the day when she had mated with a man old enough to be her -father who at the same time was a fool. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap05_II"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER V -<br /><br /> -THE COMMUNE OF MILAN</h4> - -<p> -'They deafen us with their acclamations of you, those sons of dogs!' -</p> -<p> -Thus the Duke, in angry greeting of the great condottiero, who was not -only the last of his father's captains to stand beside him in his hour -of need, but the only one who had refrained from taking arms against -him. Nor did he leave it there. 'Me they distracted with their howling -lamentations when I rode abroad this morning. They need a lesson in -loyalty, I think. I'll afford it them one of these fine days. I will so, -by the bones of Saint Ambrose! I'll show them who is Duke of Milan.' -</p> -<p> -There was a considerable concourse in the spacious chamber known as the -Hall of Galeazzo, in which the Duke received the condottiero, and, as -Facino's wide-set, dark eyes raked their ranks, he perceived at once the -influence that had been at work during his few months of absence. Here -at the Duke's elbow was the sinister della Torre, the leader of the -Guelphic party, the head of the great House of the Torriani, who had -striven once with the Visconti for supremacy in Milan, and in the -background wherever he might look Facino saw only Guelphs, Casati, -Bigli, Aliprandi, Biagi, Porri, and others. They were at their ease, and -accompanied by wives and daughters, these men who two years ago would -not have dared come within a mile of the Visconti Palace. Indeed, the -only noteworthy Ghibelline present, and he was a man so amiably weak as -to count for little in any party, was the Duke's natural brother, -Gabriello Maria, the son who had inherited the fine slender height, good -looks, and red-gold hair of Gian Galeazzo. -</p> -<p> -Facino was moved to anger. But he dissembled it. -</p> -<p> -'The people perceive in me the possible saviour of your duchy.' He was -smiling, but his eyes were hard. 'It is well to propitiate those who -have the power to serve us.' -</p> -<p> -'Do you reprove his highness?' wondered della Torre, scowling. -</p> -<p> -'Do you boast your power?' growled the Duke. -</p> -<p> -'I rejoice in it since it is to be used in your potency's service, -unlike Buonterzo's which is being used against you.' -</p> -<p> -Behind Facino his Countess watched, and inwardly smiled. These fools -were stirring her lord, it seemed, where she could not stir him. -</p> -<p> -Gabriello, however, interposed to clear the air. 'And you are very -welcome, Lord Count; your coming is most timely.' -</p> -<p> -The Duke flashed him a sidelong glance, and grunted: 'Huh!' -</p> -<p> -But Gabriello went on, his manner affable and courtly. 'And his highness -is grateful to you for the despatch you have used in responding to his -call.' -</p> -<p> -After all, as titular governor, Gabriello spoke with the voice of -authority, in matters of administration being even superior to the Duke. -And Facino, whose aim was far from provocative, was glad enough to pass -through the door Gabriello held for him. -</p> -<p> -'My despatch is natural enough since I have no object but the service of -his highness and the duchy.' -</p> -<p> -Later, however, when Facino attended a council that evening to determine -measures a certain asperity was again in his tone. -</p> -<p> -He came to the business exacerbated by another scene with his Countess, -in which again she had upbraided him for not dealing with these men as -their ill will deserved by seizing upon the duchy for himself. -</p> -<p> -Della Torre's undisguised malice, the Duke's mean, vindictive, -unreasoning jealousy, scarcely held in curb even by his needs, and -Gabriello's hopeless incompetence, almost drove Facino to conclude that -Beatrice was in the right and that he was a fool to continue to serve -where he might command. -</p> -<p> -Trouble came when the question arose of the means at their command to -resist Buonterzo, and Gabriello announced that the whole force under -their hands amounted to the thousand mercenaries of Facino's own -condotta, commanded by his lieutenant, Francesco Busone of Carmagnola, -and some five hundred foot made up of Milanese levies. -</p> -<p> -Facino denounced this force as utterly inadequate, and informed the -Council that to supplement it he had sent to Boucicault for a thousand -men. -</p> -<p> -'A thousand men!' Gabriello was aghast, and so were the others. 'But a -thousand men will cost the treasury ...' -</p> -<p> -Facino interrupted him. 'I have offered fifteen gold florins a month for -each man and fifty for the officer commanding them. But my messenger is -authorised to pay twice that sum if necessary.' -</p> -<p> -'Fifteen thousand florins, and perhaps thirty thousand! Why, you're -surely mad! That is twice the sum contributed by the Commune. Whence is -the remainder to come? His highness's allowance is but two thousand five -hundred florins a month.' -</p> -<p> -'The Commune must be made to realise that the duchy is in danger of -utter shipwreck. If Buonterzo sacks Milan, it will cost them fifty times -the hire of these troops. So they must provide the means to defend it. -It is your business, my lord, as one of the ducal governors, to make -that clear to them.' -</p> -<p> -'They will take the view that this levy is far beyond the needs of the -case.' -</p> -<p> -'You must persuade them of their error.' -</p> -<p> -Gabriello became impatient in his turn. 'How can I persuade them of what -I do not, myself, believe? After all, Buonterzo cannot be in great -strength. I doubt if his whole force amounts to more than a thousand -men.' -</p> -<p> -'You doubt!' Facino stormed now, and banged the table in his wrath. 'Am -I to get myself and my condotta cut to pieces because you allow -conjecture to fill the place of knowledge? You set my reputation on the -board in your reckless gambling.' -</p> -<p> -'Your reputation stands high, Lord Count,' Gabriello sought to mollify -him. -</p> -<p> -'But how long will you let it stand so? I shall presently be known for -improvidence and carelessness in estimating the enemy forces and in -opposing my troops to impossible odds. Once I am given that character, -where do you think I shall be able to hire men to follow me? Mercenaries -who make a trade of war do not go into battle to get themselves -slaughtered, and they do not follow leaders under whom this happens. -That, my lord, you should know. I suffered enough last year against this -same Buonterzo, when your reckless lack of information sent me with six -hundred men to meet his four thousand. Then, as now, you argued that he -was in small strength. That is not an error into which a condottiero is -suffered to fall twice. Let it happen again, and I shall never be able -to raise another condotta.' -</p> -<p> -Gian Maria laughed softly, secretly nudged by della Torre. Facino span -round on his stool to face the Duke, and his face was white with anger, -for he read the meaning of that laugh. In his stupid jealousy the -loutish prince would actually welcome such a consummation, unable to -perceive its inevitable consequence to himself. -</p> -<p> -'Your highness laughs! You will not laugh when it is accomplished. You -will discover that when there is an end to me as a condottiero, there -will be an end to your highness as Duke of Milan. Do you think these -will save you?' And rising in his passion he swept a hand to indicate -Gabriello, della Torre, and Lonate. 'Who will follow Gabriello when he -takes the field? All the world knows that his mother was a better -soldier than he, and that when she died he could not hold Pisa. And how -will these two poor pimps who fawn upon you serve you in your need?' -</p> -<p> -Gian Maria, livid with anger was on his feet, too, by now. 'By God! -Facino, if you had dared say the half of this before my father's face, -your head would have been on the Broletto Tower.' -</p> -<p> -'If I had said it before him, I should have deserved no less. I should -deserve no less if I did not say it now. We need plain speaking here to -clear away these vapours of suspicion and ill will.' -</p> -<p> -Gian Maria's wits, which ever worked sluggishly and crookedly, were -almost paralysed now under the eyes of this stern soldier. Facino had -ever been able to whistle him to heel, which was the thing he most -detested in Facino. It was an influence which lately, during Facino's -absence, he had been able to shake off. But he found himself cowed now, -despite the support he received from the presence of Facino's enemies. -It was della Torre who answered for him. -</p> -<p> -'Is that a threat, Lord Count? Dare you suggest to his highness that you -might follow the example of Buonterzo and the others? You plead for -plain speaking. Be plain, then, so that his highness may know precisely -what is in your mind.' -</p> -<p> -'Aye!' cried his highness, glad enough to be supplied with this command. -'Be plain.' -</p> -<p> -Facino controlled his wrath until he found it transmuted into contempt. -</p> -<p> -'Does your highness heed this witling? Did it require the welcome given -me to-day to prove my loyalty?' -</p> -<p> -'To prove it? How does it prove it?' -</p> -<p> -'How?' Facino looked at the others, taking his time to answer. 'If I had -a disloyal thought, all I need is to go down into the streets and unfurl -my banner. The banner of the dog. How long do you think would the banner -of the snake be seen in Milan after that?' -</p> -<p> -Gian Maria sat down abruptly, making incoherent noises in his throat, -like a hound snarling over a bone. The other three, however, came to -their feet, and della Torre spoke the thought of all. -</p> -<p> -'A subject who proclaims himself a danger to his prince has forfeited -the right to live.' -</p> -<p> -But Facino laughed at them. 'To it, then, sirs,' he invited. 'Out with -your daggers! There are three of you, and I am almost unarmed.' He -paused and smiled into their sullen eyes. 'You hesitate. You realise, I -see, that having done it, you would need to make your souls and prepare -yourselves to be torn in pieces by the mob.' He turned again to the -Duke, who sat glowering. 'If I boast the power which comes to me from -the people's love, it is that your highness may fully appreciate a -loyalty which has no thought of using that power but to uphold your -rights. These councillors of yours, who have profited by my absence to -inspire in you black thoughts against me, take a different view. I will -leave your highness to deliberate with them.' -</p> -<p> -He stalked out with a dignity which left them in confusion. -</p> -<p> -At last it was della Torre who spoke. 'A hectoring bully, swollen with -pride! He forces his measures down our throats, commits us to -extravagance whose only purpose is to bolster his reputation as a -condottiero, and proposes to save the duchy from ruin in one way by -ruining it as effectively in another.' -</p> -<p> -But Gabriello, weak and incompetent though he might be, and although -sore from Facino's affronts, yet realised the condottiero's indubitable -worth and recognised the cardinal fact that a quarrel with him now would -mean the end of all of them. He said so, thereby plunging his -half-brother into deeper mortification and stirring his two -fellow-councillors into resentful opposition. -</p> -<p> -'What he is doing we could do without him,' said Lonate. 'Your highness -could have hired these men from Boucicault, and used them to put down -Facino's insolence at the same time as Buonterzo's.' -</p> -<p> -But Gabriello showed him the weakness of his argument. 'Who would have -led them? Do you dream that Boucicault would hire out the troops of the -King of France without full confidence in their leader? As Facino -himself says, mercenaries do not hire themselves out to be slaughtered.' -</p> -<p> -'Boucicault himself might have been hired,' suggested the fop. -</p> -<p> -'At the price of setting the heel of the King of France upon our necks. -No, no,' Gabriello was emphatic, which did not, however, restrain della -Torre from debating the point with him. -</p> -<p> -In the midst of the argument Gian Maria, who had sat gnawing his nails -in silence, abruptly heaved himself up. -</p> -<p> -'A foul plague on you and your wrangles! I am sick of both. Settle it as -you like. I've something better to do than sit here listening to your -vapourings.' And he flung out of the room, in quest of the distractions -which his vapid spirit was ever craving. -</p> -<p> -In his absence those three, the weakling, the fop, and the schemer, -settled the fortunes of his throne. Della Torre, realising that the -moment was not propitious for intrigue against Facino, yielded to -Gabriello. It was decided that the Commune's confirmation should be -sought for Facino's action in increasing his condotta. -</p> -<p> -So Gabriello summoned the Communal Council, and because he feared the -worst, demanded the maximum sum of thirty thousand florins monthly for -Facino's troops. -</p> -<p> -The Commune of Milan, so impoverished by the continuous rebellious -depredations of the last five years, was still wrangling over the -matter, its members were still raising their hands and wagging their -heads, when three days later Bellarion rode into Milan with a thousand -horse, made up chiefly of Gascons and Burgundians, and captained by one -of Boucicault's lieutenants, an amiable gentleman named Monsieur de la -Tour de Cadillac. -</p> -<p> -The people's fear of storm and pillage, whilst diminished by Facino's -presence, was not yet entirely subdued. Hence there was a glad welcome -for the considerable accretion to the defensive strength represented by -this French legion. -</p> -<p> -That gave the Commune courage, and presently it was also to be afforded -relief upon hearing that not thirty thousand florins monthly as -Gabriello Maria Visconti had stated, but fifteen thousand was to be the -stipend of the French lances. -</p> -<p> -Facino was delightedly surprised when he learnt this from Bellarion. -</p> -<p> -'You must have found that French pedlar in a singularly easy humour that -he should have let you have the men on my own terms: and low terms they -are.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion rendered his accounts. -</p> -<p> -'I found him anything but easy, and we spent the best part of two days -haggling. He began by laughing at your offer; described it as impudent; -wondered if you took him for a fool. Thereupon I made shift to take my -leave of him. That sobered him. He begged me not to be hasty; confessed -that he could well spare the men; but that I must know the price was not -more than half the worth of his soldiers. At thirty florins a month for -each man he would appoint a leader for them at his own charges. I said -little beyond asserting that no such price was possible; that it was -beyond the means of the Commune of Milan. He then proposed twenty-five -florins, and finally twenty, below which he swore by all the saints of -France that he would not go. I begged him to take time for thought, and -as the hour was late to let me know his decision in the morning. But in -the morning I sent him a note of leave-taking, informing him that, as -his terms were beyond our means and as our need was none so pressing, I -was setting out for the Cantons to raise the men there.' -</p> -<p> -Facino's mouth fell open. 'Body of God! That was a risk!' -</p> -<p> -'No risk at all. I had the measure of the man. He was so covetous, so -eager to drive the bargain, that I almost believe I could have got the -men for less than your price if you had not stated it in writing. I was -not suffered to depart. He sent a messenger to beg me wait upon him -before leaving Genoa, and the matter was concluded on your terms. I -signed the articles in your name, and parted such good friends with the -French Vicar that he presented me with a magnificent suit of armour, as -an earnest of his esteem of Facino Cane and Facino Cane's son.' -</p> -<p> -Facino loosed his great full-throated laugh over the discomfiture of the -crafty Boucicault, slapped Bellarion's shoulder, commended his guile, -and carried him off at once to the Palace of the Ragione in the New -Broletto where the Council awaited him. -</p> -<p> -By one of six gates that pierced this vast walled enclosure, which was -the seat of Milan's civic authority, they came upon the multitude -assembled there and to the Palace of the Ragione in its middle. This was -little more than a great hall carried upon an open portico, to which -access was gained by an exterior stone staircase. As they went up, -Bellarion, to whom the place was new, looked over the heads of the -clamorous multitude in admiring wonder at the beautiful loggia of the -Osii with its delicately pointed arcade in black and white marble and -its parapet hung with the shields of the several quarters of the city. -</p> -<p> -Before the assembled Council, with the handsome Gabriello Maria richly -robed beside the President, Facino came straight to the matter nearest -his heart at the moment. -</p> -<p> -'Sirs,' he said, 'you will rejoice to see the increase of our strength -by a thousand lances hired from the King of France in an assurance of -Milan's safety. For with a force now of some three thousand men with -which to take the field against Buonterzo, you may tell the people from -me that they may sleep tranquil o' nights. But that is not the end of my -good tidings.' He took Bellarion by the shoulder, and thrust him forward -upon the notice of those gentlemen. 'In the terms made with Monsieur -Boucicault, my adoptive son here has saved the Commune of Milan the sum -of fifteen thousand florins a month, which is to say a sum of between -thirty and fifty thousand florins, according to the length of this -campaign.' And he placed the signed and sealed parchment which bore the -articles on the council table for their inspection. -</p> -<p> -This was good news, indeed; almost as good, considering their depleted -treasury, as would have been the news of a victory. They did not -dissemble their satisfaction. It grew as they considered it. Facino -dilated upon Messer Bellarion's intelligent care of their interests. -Such foresight and solicitude were unusual in a soldier, and were -usually left by soldiers contemptuously to statesmen. This the President -of the Council frankly confessed in the little speech in which he voiced -the Commune's thanks to Messer Bellarion, showing that he took it for -granted that a son of Facino's, by adoption or nature, must of necessity -be a soldier. -</p> -<p> -Nor was the expression of that gratitude confined to words. In the glow -of their enthusiasm, the Communal Council ended by voting Messer -Bellarion a sum of five thousand florins as an earnest of appreciation -of his care of their interests. -</p> -<p> -Thus, suddenly and without warning Bellarion found not merely fame -but—as it seemed to his modest notions—riches thrust upon -him. The President came to shake him by the hand, and after the -President there was the Ducal Governor, the Lord Gabriello Maria -Visconti, sometime Prince of Pisa. -</p> -<p> -For once he was almost disconcerted. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap06_II"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER VI -<br /><br /> -THE FRUITLESS WOOING</h4> - -<p> -To have done what Bellarion had done was after all no great matter to -the world of the court and would have attracted no attention there. But -to have received the public thanks of Milan's civic head and a gift of -five thousand florins in recognition of his services was instantly to -become noteworthy. Then there was the circumstance that he was the son -of the famous Facino—for 'adoptive' was universally accepted as the -euphemism for 'natural,' and this despite the Countess Beatrice's -vehement assertions of the contrary; and lastly, there was the fact that -he was so endowed by nature as to commend himself to his fellow-men and -no less to his fellow-women. He moved about the court of Milan during -those three or four weeks of preparation for the campaign against -Buonterzo with the ease of one who had been bred in courts. With -something of the artist's love of beauty, he was guilty almost of -extravagance in his raiment, so that in no single detail now did he -suggest his lowly origin and convent rearing. Rendered conspicuous at -the outset by events and circumstances, he became during those few weeks -almost famous by his own natural gifts and attractions. Gabriello Maria -conceived an attachment for him; the Duke himself chose to be pleasant -and completely to forget the incident of the dogs. Even della Torre, -Facino's mortal but secret enemy, sought to conciliate him. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion, whose bold, penetrating glance saw everything, whose rigid -features betrayed nothing, steered a careful course by the aid of -philosophy and a sense of humour which grew steadily and concurrently -with the growth of his knowledge of men and women. -</p> -<p> -If he had a trouble in those days when he was lodged in Facino's -apartments in the ducal palace, it lay in the too assiduous attentions -of the Countess Beatrice. She was embittered with grievances against -Facino, old natural grievances immeasurably increased by a more recent -one; and to his discomfort it was to Bellarion that she went with her -plaints. -</p> -<p> -'I am twenty years younger than is he,' she said, which was an -exaggeration, the truth being that she was exactly fifteen years her -husband's junior. 'I am as much of an age to be his daughter as are you, -Bellarion, to be his son.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion refused to perceive in this the assertion that she and -Bellarion were well matched in years. -</p> -<p> -'Yet, madonna,' said he gently, 'you have been wed these ten years. It -is a little late to repine. Why did you marry him?' -</p> -<p> -'Ten years ago he seemed none so old as now.' -</p> -<p> -'He wasn't. He was ten years younger. So were you.' -</p> -<p> -'But the difference seemed less. We appeared to be more of an age until -the gout began to trouble him. Ours was a marriage of ambition. My -father compelled me to it. Facino would go far, he said. And so he -would, so he could, if he were not set on cheating me.' -</p> -<p> -'On cheating you, madonna?' -</p> -<p> -'He could be Duke of Milan if he would. Not to take what is offered him -is to cheat me, considering why I married him.' -</p> -<p> -'If this were so, it is the price you pay for having cheated him by -taking him to husband. Did you tell him this before you were wed?' -</p> -<p> -'As if such things are ever said! You are dull sometimes, Bellarion.' -</p> -<p> -'Perhaps. But if they are not said, how are they to be known?' -</p> -<p> -'Why else should I have married a man old enough to be my father? It was -no natural union. Could a maid bring love to such a marriage?' -</p> -<p> -'Ask some one else, madonna.' His manner became frosty. 'I know nothing -of maids and less of love. These sciences were not included in my -studies.' -</p> -<p> -And then, finding that hints were wasted against Bellarion's armour of -simplicity—an armour assumed like any other panoply—she grew -outrageously direct. -</p> -<p> -'I could repair the omission for you, Bellarion,' she said, her voice -little more than a tremulous whisper, her eyes upon the ground. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion started as if he had been stung. But he made a good recovery. -</p> -<p> -'You might; if there were no Facino.' -</p> -<p> -She flashed him an upward glance of anger, and the colour flooded her -face. Bellarion, however, went calmly on. -</p> -<p> -'I owe him a debt of loyalty, I think; and so do you, madonna. I may -know little of men, but from what I have seen I cannot think that there -are many like Facino. It is his loyalty and honesty prevents him from -gratifying your ambition.' -</p> -<p> -It is surprising that she should still have wished to argue with him. -But so she did. -</p> -<p> -'His loyalty to whom?' -</p> -<p> -'To the Duke his master.' -</p> -<p> -'That animal! Does he inspire loyalty, Bellarion?' -</p> -<p> -'To his own ideals, then.' -</p> -<p> -'To anything in fact but me,' she complained. 'It is natural enough, -perhaps. Just as he is too old for me, so am I too young for him. You -should judge me mercifully when you remember that, Bellarion.' -</p> -<p> -'It is not mine to judge you at all, madonna, and Heaven preserve me -from such presumption. It is only mine to remember that all I have and -all I am, I owe to my Lord Count, and that he is my adoptive father.' -</p> -<p> -'You'll not, I hope, on that account desire me to be a mother to you,' -she sneered. -</p> -<p> -'Why not? It is an amiable relationship.' -</p> -<p> -She flung away in anger at that. But only to return again on the morrow -to invite his sympathy and his consolation, neither of which he was -prepared to afford her. Her wooing of him grew so flagrant, so reckless -in its assaults upon the defences behind which he entrenched himself, -that one day he boldly sallied forth to rout her in open conflict. -</p> -<p> -'What do you seek of me that my Lord Count cannot give you?' he -demanded. 'Your grievance against him is that he will not make you a -duchess. Your desire in life is to become a duchess. Can I make you that -if he cannot?' -</p> -<p> -But it was he, himself, who was routed by the counterattack. -</p> -<p> -'How you persist in misunderstanding me! If I desire of him that he make -me a duchess, it is because it is the only thing that he can make me. -Cheated of love, must I be cheated also of ambition?' -</p> -<p> -'Which do you rate more highly?' -</p> -<p> -She raised that perfect ivory-coloured face, from which the habitual -insolent languor had now all been swept; her deep blue eyes held nothing -but entreaty and submission. -</p> -<p> -'That must depend upon the man who brings it.' -</p> -<p> -'To the best of his ability my Lord Facino has brought you both.' -</p> -<p> -'Facino! Facino!' she cried out in sudden petulance. 'Must you always be -thinking of Facino?' -</p> -<p> -He bowed a little. 'I hope so, madonna,' he answered with a grave -finality. -</p> -<p> -And meanwhile the profligate court of Gian Maria observed this assiduity -of Facino's lady, and the Duke himself set the fashion of making it a -subject for jests. It is not recorded of him that he made many jests in -his brief day and certainly none that were not lewd. -</p> -<p> -'Facino's adoptive son should soon be standing in nearer relationship to -him,' he said. 'He will be discovering presently that his wife has -become by Messer Bellarion's wizardry his adoptive daughter.' -</p> -<p> -So pleased was his highness with that poor conceit that he repeated it -upon several occasions. It became a theme upon which his courtiers -played innumerable variations. Yet, as commonly happens, none of these -reached the ears of Facino. If any had reached them, it would have been -bad only for him who uttered it. For Facino's attachment to his quite -unworthy lady amounted to worship. His trust in her was unassailable. -Judging the honesty of others after his own, he took it for granted that -Beatrice's attitude towards his adoptive son was as motherly as became -the wife of an adoptive father. -</p> -<p> -This, indeed, was his assumption even when the Countess supplied what -any other man must have accounted grounds for suspicion. -</p> -<p> -The occasion came on an evening of early April. Bellarion had received a -message by a groom to wait upon Facino. He repaired to the Count's -apartments, to find him not yet returned, whereupon with a manuscript of -Alighieri's Comedy to keep him company he went to wait in the loggia, -overlooking the inner quadrangle of the Broletto, which was laid out as -a garden, very green in those first days of April. -</p> -<p> -Thither, a little to his chagrin, for the austere music of Dante's -Tuscan lines was engrossing him, came the Countess, sheathed in a gown -of white samite, with great sapphires glowing against the glossy black -of her hair to match the dark mysterious blue of her languid eyes. -</p> -<p> -She came alone, and brought with her a little lute, an instrument which -she played with some expertness. And she was gifted, too, in the making -of little songs, which of late had been excessively concerned with -unrequited love, despair, and death. -</p> -<p> -The Count, she informed Bellarion, had gone to the Castle, by which she -meant, of course, the great fortress of Porta Giovia built and commonly -inhabited by the late Duke. But he would be returning soon. And -meanwhile, to beguile the tedium of his waiting, she would sing to him. -</p> -<p> -Singing to him Facino found her, and he was not to guess with what -reluctance Bellarion had suffered her voice to substitute the voice of -Dante Alighieri. Nor, in any case, was he at all concerned with that. -</p> -<p> -He came abruptly into the room from which the loggia opened, his manner -a little pressed and feverish. And the suddenness of his entrance, -acting upon a conscience not altogether at rest, cropped her song in -mid-flight. The eyes she raised to his flushed and frowning face were -startled and uneasy. Bellarion, who sat dreaming, holding the -vellum-bound manuscript which was closed upon his forefinger, sprang up, -with something in his manner of that confusion usually discernible in -one suddenly recalled from dreams to his surroundings. -</p> -<p> -Facino strode out to the loggia, and there loosed his news at once. -</p> -<p> -'Buonterzo is moving. He left Parma at dawn yesterday, and is advancing -towards Piacenza with an army fully four thousand strong.' -</p> -<p> -'Four thousand!' cried Bellarion. 'Then he is in greater strength than -you even now.' -</p> -<p> -'Thanks to the French contingent and the communal militia, the odds do -not perturb me. Buonterzo is welcome to the advantage. He'll need a -greater when we meet. That will be in two days' time, in three at -latest. For we march at midnight. All is in readiness. The men are -resting between this and then. You had best do the same, Bellarion.' -</p> -<p> -Thus, with a complete change from his usual good-tempered, easy-going -manner, already the commander rapping out his orders without waste of -words, Facino delivered himself. -</p> -<p> -But now his Countess, who had risen when he announced the imminence of -action, expressed her concern. -</p> -<p> -'Bellarion?' she cried. Her face was white to the lips, her rounded -bosom heaving under its close-fitting sheath; there was dread in her -eyes. 'Bellarion goes with you?' -</p> -<p> -Facino looked at her, and the lines between his brows grew deeper. It -wounded him sharply that in this hour concern for another should so -completely override concern for himself. Beyond that, however, his -resentment did not go. He could think no evil where his Bice was -concerned, and, indeed, Bellarion's eager interposition would have -supplied the antidote had it been necessary. -</p> -<p> -'Why, madonna, you would not have me left behind! You would not have me -miss such an occasion!' His cheeks were aglow; his eyes sparkled. -</p> -<p> -Facino laughed. 'You hear the lad? Would you be so cruel as to deny -him?' -</p> -<p> -She recaptured betimes the wits which surprise had scattered, and -prudently dissembled her dismay. On a more temperate note, from which -all passion was excluded, she replied: -</p> -<p> -'He's such a child to be going to the wars!' -</p> -<p> -'A child! Pooh! Who would become master should begin early. At his age I -was leader of a troop.' -</p> -<p> -He laughed again. But he was not to laugh later, when he recalled this -trivial incident. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap07_II"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER VII -<br /><br /> -MANŒUVRES</h4> - -<p> -Shortly before midnight they rode out from the Palace of the old -Broletto: Facino, attended by Bellarion for his esquire, a page -bestriding a mule that was laden with his armour, and a half-dozen -men-at-arms. -</p> -<p> -Facino was silent and pensive. His lady's farewells had lacked the -tenderness he craved, and the Duke whose battles he went to fight had -not even been present to speed him. He had left the palace to go forth -upon this campaign, slinking away like a discharged lackey. The Duke, he -had been told, was absent, and for all that he was well aware of the -Duke's detestable pernoctations, he preferred to believe that this was -merely another expression of that ill will which, despite all that he -had done and all that it lay in his power to do, the Duke never failed -to display towards him. -</p> -<p> -But as the little company rode in the bright moonlight down the borgo of -Porta Giovia, out of a narrow side street emerged a bulky man, almost -dragged along by three great hounds straining at the leash and yelping -eagerly, their noses to the ground. A slender figure in a cloak followed -after him, calling petulantly as he came: -</p> -<p> -'Not so fast, Squarcia! Body of God! Not so fast, I say. I am out of -breath!' -</p> -<p> -There was no mistaking that strident voice. It was the Duke, himself, -and close upon his heels came six armed lackeys to make a bodyguard. -</p> -<p> -Squarcia and his powerful hounds crossed the main street of the borgo, -almost under the head of Facino's horse, the brawny huntsman panting and -swearing as he went. -</p> -<p> -'I cannot hold them back, Lord Duke,' he answered. 'They're hot upon the -scent, and strong as mules, devil take them!' -</p> -<p> -He vanished down the dark gulf of an alley. From the leader of the -Duke's bodyguard came a challenge: -</p> -<p> -'Who goes there at this hour?' -</p> -<p> -Facino loosed a laugh that was full of bitterness. -</p> -<p> -'Facino Cane, Lord Duke, going to the wars.' -</p> -<p> -'It makes you laugh, eh?' The Duke approached him. He had missed the -bitterness of the laughter, or else the meaning of that bitterness. -</p> -<p> -'Oh yes, it makes me laugh. I go to fight the battles of the Duke of -Milan. It is my business and my pleasure. I leave you, Lord Duke, to -yours.' -</p> -<p> -'Aye, aye! Bring me back the head of that rogue Buonterzo. Good fortune -to you!' -</p> -<p> -'Your highness is gracious.' -</p> -<p> -'God be with you!' He moved on. 'That rogue Squarcia is getting too far -ahead. Ho, there! Squarcia! Damn your vile soul! Not so fast!' The gloom -of the alley absorbed him. His bodyguard followed. -</p> -<p> -Again Facino laughed. '"God be with me," says the Duke's magnificence. -May the devil be with him. I wonder upon what foulness he is bent -to-night, Bellarion.' He touched his horse with the spur. 'Forward!' -</p> -<p> -They came to the Castle of Porta Giovia, the vast fortress of Gian -Galeazzo, built as much for the city's protection from without as for -his own from the city. The drawbridge was lowered to receive them, and -they rode into the great courtyard of San Donato, which was thronged -with men-at-arms and bullock-carts laden with the necessaries of the -campaign. Here, in the inner courtyard and in the great plain beyond the -walls of both castle and city, the army of Facino was drawn up, -marshalled by Carmagnola. -</p> -<p> -Facino rode through the castle, issuing brief orders here and there as -he went, then, at the far end of the plain beyond, at the very head of -the assembled forces, he took up his station attended by Bellarion, -Beppo the page, and his little personal bodyguard. There he remained for -close upon an hour, and in the moonlight, supplemented by a dozen -flaring barrels of tar, he reviewed the army as it filed past and took -the road south towards Melegnano. -</p> -<p> -The order of the going had been preconcerted between Facino and his -lieutenant Carmagnola, and it was Carmagnola who led the vanguard, made -up of five hundred mounted men of the civic militia of Milan and three -hundred German infantry, a mixed force composed of Bavarians, Swabians, -and Saxons, trailing the ponderous German pike which was fifteen feet in -length. They were uniform at least in that all were stalwart, bearded -men, and they sang as they marched, swinging vigorously to the rhythm of -their outlandish song. They were commanded by a Swabian named -Koenigshofen. -</p> -<p> -Next came de Cadillac with the French horse, of whom eight hundred rode -in armour with lances erect, an imposing array of mounted steel which -flashed ruddily in the flare from the tar barrels; the remaining two -hundred made up a company of mounted arbalesters. -</p> -<p> -After the French came an incredibly long train of lumbering wagons drawn -by oxen, and laden, some with the ordinary baggage of the army—tents, -utensils, arms, munitions, and the like—and the others with mangonels -and siege implements including a dozen cannon. -</p> -<p> -Finally came the rearguard composed of Facino's own condotta, increased -by recent recruitings to twelve hundred men-at-arms and supplemented by -three hundred Switzers under Werner von Stoffel, of whom a hundred were -arbalesters and the remainder infantry armed with the short but terribly -effective Swiss halbert. -</p> -<p> -When the last had marched away to be absorbed into the darkness, and the -song of the Germans at the head of the column had faded out of earshot, -muffled by the tramp of the rearguard, Facino with his little knot of -personal attendants set out to follow. -</p> -<p> -Towards noon of the following day, with Melegnano well behind them, they -came to a halt in the hamlet of Ospedaletto, having covered twenty-five -miles in that first almost unbroken march. The pace was not one that -could be maintained, nor would it have been maintained so long but that -Facino was in haste to reach the south bank of the Po before Buonterzo -could cross. Therefore, leaving the main army to rest at Ospedaletto, he -pushed on with five hundred lances as far as Piacenza. With these at -need he could hold the bridgehead, whilst waiting for the main army to -join him on the morrow. -</p> -<p> -At Piacenza, however, there was still no sign of the enemy, and in the -Scotti who held the city—one of the possessions wrested from the -Duchy of Milan—Facino found an unexpected ally. Buonterzo had sent -to demand passage of the Scotti. And the Scotti, with the true brigand -instinct of their kind, had replied by offering him passage on terms. -But Buonterzo, the greater brigand, had mocked the proposal, sending -word back that, unless he were made free of the bridge, he would cross -by force and clean up the town in passing. As a consequence, whilst -Buonterzo's advance was retarded by the necessity of reaching Piacenza -in full force, Facino was given free and unhindered passage by the -Scotti, so that he might act as a buckler for them. -</p> -<p> -Having brought his army on the morrow safely across the Po, Facino -assembled it on the left bank of the little river Nure. He destroyed the -bridge by which the Æmilian Way crosses the stream at Pontenure, and -sat down to await Buonterzo, who was now reported to be at Firenzuola, -ten miles away. -</p> -<p> -Buonterzo, however, did not come directly on, but, quitting the Æmilian -Way, struck south, and, crossing the shallow hills into the valley of -the Nure, threatened thence to descend upon Facino's flank. -</p> -<p> -That was the beginning of a series of movements, of marchings and -counter-marchings, which endured for a full week without ever bringing -the armies in sight of each other. These manœuvres carried them -gradually south, and their operations became a game of hide-and-seek -among the hills. -</p> -<p> -At first it bewildered Bellarion that two commanders, each of whom had -for aim the destruction of the other, should appear so sedulously to -avoid an engagement. But in the end, he came to understand the spirit -actuating them. Each fought with mercenary troops, and just as it is not -the business of mercenaries to get themselves killed, neither is it -their business to slay if slaughter can be avoided. They fought for -profit, and whilst prisoners were profitable, since they yielded not -only arms and horses, but also ransoms, dead men yielded nothing beyond -their harness. Therefore they demanded that their commanders should lead -them as nearly as possible into a position of such strategical advantage -that the enemy, perceiving himself at their mercy, should have no choice -but to surrender. To this general rule the only exception was afforded -by the Swiss, who were indifferent to bloodshed. But of Swiss there were -only a few on Facino's side, and none at all on Buonterzo's. -</p> -<p> -At the end of a week, after endless manœuvres, matters were very much -as they had been at the beginning. Buonterzo had fallen back again on -Firenzuola, hoping to draw Facino into open country, whilst Facino, -refusing to be drawn, lay patiently at San Nicoló. -</p> -<p> -Three days Facino waited there, to be suddenly startled by the news that -Buonterzo was at Aggazano, eight miles away. Suspecting here an attempt -to slip past him and, by crossing perhaps at Stradella, to invade the -territory of Milan, and also because he conceived that Buonterzo had -placed himself in a disadvantageous position, leaving an opening for -attack, Facino decided upon instant action. -</p> -<p> -In the best house of San Nicoló, which he had temporarily adopted for -his quarters, Facino assembled on the morning of the 10th of May his -chief officers, Francesco Busone of Carmagnola, Koenigshofen, the Swiss -Werner von Stoffel, and the French commander de Cadillac. -</p> -<p> -In a small plain room on the ground floor, darkened by semi-closed -shutters to exclude the too ardent sun, they were gathered, Bellarion -with them, about the plain deal table at which Facino sat. On the -table's white surface the condottiero with a stick of charcoal had drawn -a map which if rough was fairly accurate of scale. In the past week -Bellarion had seen and studied a half-dozen such charts and had come to -read them readily. -</p> -<p> -Charcoal stick in hand, Facino expounded. -</p> -<p> -'Buonterzo lies here, and the speed at which he has moved from -Firenzuola will constrain him to rest there, whatever his ultimate -intention.' -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola interposed. He was a large young man, handsome, florid, and -self-assured. -</p> -<p> -'He is too favourably placed for an attack from the plain. At Aggazano -he holds the slopes, whence he can roll down like an avalanche.' -</p> -<p> -'You are interrupting me, Francesco.' Facino's voice was dry and cold. -'And you point out the obvious. It is not my intention to make a frontal -attack; but merely to simulate one. Here is my plan: I divide the army -into two battles. One of these, composed of the French horse, the civic -militia, and Koenigshofen's pikes, you shall lead, Francesco, marching -directly upon Aggazano, as if intending to attack. Thus you engage -Buonterzo's attention, and pin him there. Meanwhile with the remainder -of the forces I, myself, march up the valley of the Trebbia as far as -Travo, and then, striking over the hills, descend thence upon -Buonterzo's camp. That will be the moment of your simulated attack from -the plain below to become real, so that whichever way Buonterzo turns, -we are upon his rear.' -</p> -<p> -There was a murmur of approval from the four officers. Facino looked -from one to another, smiling a little. 'No situation could be better -suited for such a manœuvre.' -</p> -<p> -And now Bellarion, the chess-player and student of the art of war, -greatly daring, yet entirely unconscious of it, presumed to advance a -criticism. -</p> -<p> -'The weakness lies in the assumption that this situation will be -maintained until action is joined.' -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola gasped, and with Koenigshofen and de Cadillac gave the young -man a stare of haughty, angry amazement. Facino laughed outright, at so -much impudence. -</p> -<p> -Werner von Stoffel, between whom and Bellarion a certain friendship had -sprung up during the months they had spent together at Abbiategrasso, -was the only one who spared his feelings, whilst Facino, having vented -his scorn in laughter, condescended to explain. -</p> -<p> -'We ensure that by the speed of our onset, which will leave him no time -to move. It is the need for rest that has made him take up this strong -position. Its very strength is the trap in which we'll take him.' He -rose, brushing the matter aside. 'Come! The details each of you can work -out for himself. What imports is that we should move at once, leave camp -and baggage so that we may march unhampered. Here speed is all.' -</p> -<p> -But Bellarion was so little abashed by their contempt that he actually -returned to the attack. -</p> -<p> -'If I were in Buonterzo's place,' he said, 'I should have scouts along -the heights from Rivergaro to Travo. Upon discovering your intentions -from your movements, I should first descend upon Carmagnola's force, -and, having routed it, I should come round and on, to engage your own. -Thus the division of forces upon which you count for success might -easily be made the cause of your ruin.' -</p> -<p> -Again there was a silence of amazement at this babe in warlike matters -who thrust his opinions upon the notice of tried soldiers. -</p> -<p> -'Let us thank God,' said Carmagnola with stinging sarcasm, 'that you do -not command Buonterzo's troops, or our overthrow would be assured.' And -he led the rather cruel laughter, which at last silenced Bellarion. -</p> -<p> -The two battles into which the army was divided moved at dusk, leaving -all baggage and even the cannon, of which Facino judged that he would -have no need in operations of the character intended. Before midnight -Carmagnola had reached his station within a mile of Aggazano, and Facino -was at Travo, ready to breast the slopes at dawn, and from their summit -descend upon Buonterzo's camp. -</p> -<p> -Meanwhile the forces rested, and Facino himself snatched a few hours' -sleep in a green tent which had hurriedly been pitched for him. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion, however, too excited by the prospect of action to think of -sleeping, and rendered uneasy by his apprehensions, paced by the river -which murmured at that point over a broad shallow, its waters sadly -shrunken by the recent drought. Here in his pacings he was joined by -Stoffel. -</p> -<p> -'I did not laugh at you to-day,' the Swiss reminded him. -</p> -<p> -'I have to thank you for that courtesy,' said Bellarion gravely. -</p> -<p> -'Courtesy wasn't in my mind.' -</p> -<p> -A patriotic Swiss and an able soldier, Stoffel had the appearance of -neither. He was of middle height and a gracefully slim figure which he -dressed with elegance and care. His face was shaven, long and -olive-skinned with a well-bridged nose and dark pensive eyes under -straight black eyebrows. There was about him something mincing and -delicate, but entirely pleasant, for with it all he was virile and -intrepid. -</p> -<p> -'You voiced,' he said now, 'a possibility which should not have been -left outside their calculations.' -</p> -<p> -'I have never seen a battle,' said Bellarion. 'But I do not need to see -one to know that all strategy is bad which does not consider and provide -for every likely counter-move that is discernible.' -</p> -<p> -'And the counter-move you suggested was discernible enough—at least, -when you suggested it.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion looked at the Swiss so far as the Swiss was visible in the -faint radiance of that warm summer night. -</p> -<p> -'Thinking as you do, why did you not support me, Stoffel?' -</p> -<p> -'Carmagnola and de Cadillac are soldiers of repute, and so is even -Koenigshofen, whilst I am but the captain of a small body of Swiss -infantry whose office it is to carry out the duties imposed upon him. I -do not give advice unasked, which is why even now I dare not suggest to -Facino that he repair his omission to place scouts on the heights. He -takes Buonterzo's vulnerability too much for granted.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion smiled. 'Which is why you seek me; hoping that I will suggest -it to him.' -</p> -<p> -'I think it would be well.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion considered. 'We could do better, Stoffel. We could go up -ourselves, and make observations.' -</p> -<p> -They came an hour or so later to the crest of the hill, and there -remained on watch for some two hours until the light of dawn was strong -enough to disclose to them in detail the slopes towards Aggazano. And -what they saw in that cold grey light was the realisation, if not of the -exact possibility Bellarion had voiced, at least of something very near -akin. The difference lay in that, instead of moving first against -Carmagnola and later against Facino, Buonterzo was beginning with the -latter course. And Bellarion instantly perceived the advantages of this. -Buonterzo could descend upon Facino from above in a position of enormous -tactical advantage, and, having destroyed him, go round to meet -Carmagnola on level terms of ground. -</p> -<p> -The order of the movements, however, was a detail of comparative -unimportance. What mattered was that Buonterzo was actually moving to -destroy severally the two battles into which Facino had divided his -army. In the upland valley to the north, a couple of miles away, already -breasting the gentle slopes towards the summit from which Bellarion and -Stoffel observed them, swarmed the whole army of Ottone Buonterzo. -</p> -<p> -The watchers waited for no more. Down the hill again to Travo they raced -and came breathless into the tent where Facino slept. Their news -effectively awakened him. He wasted no time in futile raging, but, -summoning his officers, issued orders instantly to marshal the men and -march down the valley so as to go round to effect a reunion with -Carmagnola's battle. -</p> -<p> -'It will never be effected that way.' said Bellarion quietly. -</p> -<p> -Facino scowled at him, dismissed the officers to their tasks, and, when -only Stoffel remained, angrily demanded of Bellarion what the devil he -meant by constantly intruding opinions that were not sought. -</p> -<p> -'If the last opinion I intruded had been weighed,' said Bellarion, 'you -would not now be in this desperate case.' -</p> -<p> -'Desperate!' Facino almost exploded on the word. 'How is it desperate?' -</p> -<p> -'Come outside, my lord.' -</p> -<p> -To humour his self-sufficiency, to allow it to swell into a monstrous -bubble which when fully swollen he would reduce to nothing by a single -prick, Facino went with him from the tent, Stoffel gravely following. -And in the open, by the river under that long line of shallow hills, -Bellarion expounded the situation in the manner of a pedant lecturing a -scholar. -</p> -<p> -'Already, by his present position, Buonterzo has driven the wedge too -deeply between yourself and Carmagnola. A reunion of forces is no longer -possible by marching down the valley. In less than an hour Buonterzo -will command the heights, and observe your every movement. He will be at -a centre, whence he can hurl his force along a radius to strike you at -whatever point of the periphery you chance to occupy. And he will strike -you with more than twice your numbers, falling upon your flank from a -position of vantage which would still render him irresistible if he had -half your strength. Your position, my lord, with the river on your other -flank, is much as was the position of the Austrians at Morgarten when -they were utterly broken by the Swiss.' -</p> -<p> -Facino's impatience and anger had gradually undergone a transmutation -into wonder and dismay, and he knew not whether to be more dismayed -because he had failed to perceive the situation for himself, or because -it was pointed out to him by one whose knowledge of the art of war was -all derived from books. -</p> -<p> -Without answering, he stood there brooding, chin in hand, striving to -master his bitter vexation. -</p> -<p> -'If you had heeded me yesterday —' Bellarion was beginning, which was -very human, but hardly generous, when Facino roughly cut him short. -</p> -<p> -'Peace!' he growled. 'What is done is done. We have to deal with what we -find.' He turned to Stoffel. 'We must retreat across the river before -Buonterzo thrusts us into it. There is a ford here above Travo at this -height of water.' -</p> -<p> -'That,' ventured Stoffel, 'is but to increase our separation from -Carmagnola.' -</p> -<p> -'Don't I know it?' roared Facino, now thoroughly in a rage with himself -and all the world. 'Do you suppose I can perceive nothing? Let a -messenger ride at once to Carmagnola, ordering him to fall back, and -cross below Rivergaro. The river should be fordable just below the -islands. Thus it is possible he might be able to rejoin me.' -</p> -<p> -'It should certainly be possible,' the Swiss agreed, 'if Buonterzo -pursues us across the ford, intent upon delivering battle whilst the -odds are so heavily in his favour.' -</p> -<p> -'I am counting upon that. We draw him on, refusing battle until -Carmagnola is also across and in his rear. Thus we'll snatch victory -from defeat.' -</p> -<p> -'But if he doesn't follow?' quoth Bellarion. And again, in spite of what -had happened, Facino frowned his haughty impatience of this fledgling's -presumption. Unintimidated, Bellarion went on: 'If you were in -Buonterzo's place, would you follow, when, by remaining on this bank and -marching down the valley, you might keep the two enemy battles apart so -as to engage each at your convenience?' -</p> -<p> -'If Buonterzo were to do that, I should recross, and he would then have -me upon his rear. After all, if his position has advantages, it has also -disadvantages. However he turn he will be between two forces.' -</p> -<p> -'Which is no disadvantage to him unless the two can operate -simultaneously, and this he can prevent once you have crossed the river -by leaving a force to watch you and dispute your passage should you -attempt to return. And for that a small force will suffice. With a -hundred well-posted arbalesters I could hold that ford for a day against -an enemy.' -</p> -<p> -'You could?' Facino almost laughed. -</p> -<p> -'I could, and I will if the plan commends itself to you.' -</p> -<p> -'What plan?' -</p> -<p> -It was a plan that had occurred to Bellarion even as they argued, -inspired by the very arguments they had used. He had been conning the -ground beyond the water, a line of shallow hills, with a grey limestone -bluff crowned by a dense wood of lofty elms commanding the ford itself. -</p> -<p> -'Buonterzo should be drawn to pursue you across the river, which might -easily happen if you cross in full sight of his forces and with all the -appearance of disorder. An army in flight is an almost irresistible lure -to an overwhelming force. It was thus that Duke William of Normandy -ensured his own ultimate victory at Senlac. The slopes across the water -offer no difficulty to a pursuer, and the prospect of bringing you to an -engagement before Carmagnola can rejoin you should prove too seductive. -It should even render Buonterzo obstinate when he finds his passage -disputed. And for this, as I have said, a hundred arbalesters will -suffice. In the end he must either force a passage, or decide to abandon -the attempt and go instead against Carmagnola first. But before either -happens, if you act promptly, you may have rejoined Carmagnola by -crossing to him at Rivergaro, and then come round the hills upon -Buonterzo's rear, thus turning the tables upon him. Whether he is still -here, attempting to cross, or whether he is marching off down the -valley, he will be equally at your mercy if you are swift. And I will -undertake to hold him until sunset with a hundred crossbowmen.' -</p> -<p> -Overwhelmed with amazement by that lucid exposition of a masterly plan, -Facino stood and stared at him in silence. Gravely, at last, he asked -him: 'And if you fail?' -</p> -<p> -'I shall still have held him long enough to enable you to extricate -yourself from the trap in which you are now caught.' -</p> -<p> -Facino's bewildered glance sought the dark, comely face of Stoffel. He -smiled grimly. 'Am I a fool, Stoffel, that a boy should instruct me in -the art by which I have lived? And would you trust a hundred of your -Swiss to this same boy?' -</p> -<p> -'With confidence.' -</p> -<p> -But still Facino hesitated. 'You realise, Bellarion, that if the passage -is forced before I arrive, it will go very hard with you?' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion shrugged in silence. Facino thought he was not understood. -</p> -<p> -'Such an action as you propose will entail great slaughter, perhaps. -Buonterzo will be impatient of that, and he may terribly avenge it.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion smiled. 'He will have to cross first, and meanwhile I shall -count upon his impatience and vindictiveness to hold him here when he -should be elsewhere.' -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap08_II"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER VIII -<br /><br /> -THE BATTLE OF TRAVO</h4> - -<p> -The morning sunlight falling across the valley flashed on the arms of -Buonterzo's vanguard, on the heights, even as Facino's rearguard went -splashing through the ford, which at its deepest did not come above the -bellies of the horses or the breasts of Bellarion's hundred Swiss, who, -with arbalests above their heads, to keep the cords dry, were the last -to cross. -</p> -<p> -From his eyrie Buonterzo saw the main body of Facino's army straggling -in disorder over the shallow hill beyond the water, and, persuaded that -he had to deal with a rabble disorganized by fear, he gave the order to -pursue. -</p> -<p> -A squadron of horse came zigzagging down the hillside at speed, whilst a -considerable body of infantry dropped more directly. -</p> -<p> -The last stragglers of the fugitive army had vanished from view when -that cavalry gained the ford and entered the water. But before the head -of the column had reached midstream there was a loud hum of arbalest -cords, and fifty bolts came to empty nearly as many saddles. The column -checked, and, whilst it hesitated, another fifty bolts from the enemy -invisible in the woods that crowned the bluff dealt fresh destruction. -</p> -<p> -There was a deal of confusion after that, a deal of raging and -splashing, some seeking to turn and retreat, others, behind, who had not -been exposed to that murderous hail, clamouring to go on. So that by the -time Bellarion's men had drawn their cords anew and set fresh bolts, the -horsemen in the water had gone neither forward nor back. And now -Bellarion let them have a full hundred in a single volley, and thereby -threw them into such panic that there was an end to all hesitation. They -turned about, those that were still able to do so, and, driving -riderless horses before them and assisting wounded comrades to regain -the shore, they floundered their way back. -</p> -<p> -The effect of this upon Buonterzo was precisely that upon which -Bellarion in his almost uncanny knowledge of men had counted. He was -filled with fury, which he expressed to those about him denouncing the -action as insensate. -</p> -<p> -From the eminence on which he sat his horse he could see that over the -shallow hills across the river the disorderly flight of Facino's troops -continued, and, raging at the delay in the pursuit, Buonterzo rode down -the hill with the remainder of his forces. -</p> -<p> -Excited officers met him below to deafen him with facts which he had -already perceived. The ford was held against them by a party of -crossbowmen, rendering impossible the pursuit his potency had commanded. -</p> -<p> -'I'll show you,' Buonterzo savagely promised them, and he ordered a -hundred men into the village of Travo to bring thence every door and -shutter the place contained. -</p> -<p> -Close upon three hours were spent in that measure of preparation. But -Buonterzo counted upon speedily making up for that lost time once the -bluff were cleared of those pestilential crossbowmen. -</p> -<p> -His preparations completed, Buonterzo launched the attack, sending a -body of three hundred foot to lead it, each man bearing above his head -one of the cumbrous improvised shields, and trailing after him his pike, -attached now to his belt. -</p> -<p> -From the summit of the bluff Bellarion looked down upon what appeared to -be a solid roof of timber thrusting forward across the stream. A troop -of horse was preparing to follow as soon as the pikemen should have -cleared the way. Bellarion drew two thirds of his men farther off along -the river. Thus, whilst lengthening the range, rendering aim less -certain and less effective, at least it enabled the arbalesters to shoot -at the vulnerable flank of the advancing host. -</p> -<p> -The attack was fully two thirds of the way across the ford, which may -have been some two hundred yards in width, before Bellarion's men were -in their new positions. He ordered a volley of twenty bolts, so as to -judge the range; and although only half of these took effect, yet the -demoralisation created, in men who had been conceiving themselves -invulnerably sheltered, was enough to arrest them. A second volley -followed along the low line of exposed flank, and, being more effective -than the first, flung the column into complete disorder. -</p> -<p> -Dead men lay awash where they had fallen; wounded men were plunging in -the water, shouting to their comrades for help, what time their comrades -cursed and raved, rousing the echoes of that normally peaceful valley, -as they had been roused before when the horsemen found themselves in -similar plight. Odd shutters and doors went floating down the stream, -and the continuity of the improvised roof having been broken, those -immediately behind the fallen found themselves exposed now in front as -well as on the flank. -</p> -<p> -A mounted officer spurred through the water, shouting a command -repeatedly as he came, and menacing the disordered ranks with his sword. -At last his order was understood, and the timber shields were swung from -overhead to cover the flank that was being assailed. That, thought -Buonterzo, should checkmate the defenders of the ford, who with such -foresight had shifted their position. But scarcely was the manœuvre -executed when into them came a volley from the thirty men Bellarion had -left at the head of the bluff in anticipation of just such a -counter-movement. Because the range here was short, not a bolt of that -volley failed to take effect, and by the impression it created of the -ubiquity of this invisible opponent it completed the discomfiture of the -assailants. They turned, flung away their shields, and went scrambling -back out of range as fast as they could breast the water. To speed them -came another volley at their flanks, which claimed some victims, whilst -several men in their panic got into deep water and two or three were -drowned. -</p> -<p> -Livid with rage and chagrin, Buonterzo watched this second repulse. He -knew from his earlier observations and from the extent of the volleys -that it was the work of a negligible contingent posted to cover Facino's -retreat, and his wrath was deepened by the reflection that, as a result -of this delay, Facino might, if not actually escape, at least compel him -now to an arduous pursuit. No farther than that could Buonterzo see, in -the blindness of his rage, precisely as Bellarion had calculated. And -because he could see no farther, he stood obstinately firm in his -resolve to put a strong force across the river. -</p> -<p> -The sun was mounting now towards noon, and already over four hours had -been spent at that infernal ford. Yet realising, despite his impatience, -that speed is seldom gained by hastiness, Buonterzo now deliberately -considered the measures to be taken, and he sent men for a mile or more -up and down streams to seek another passage. Another hour was lost in -this exploration, which proved fruitless in the end. But meanwhile -Buonterzo held in readiness a force of five hundred men-at-arms in full -armour, commanded by an intrepid young knight named Varallo. -</p> -<p> -'You will cross in spite of any losses,' Buonterzo instructed him. 'I -compute them to number less than two hundred men, and if you are -resolute you will win over without difficulty. Their bolts will not take -effect save at short range, and by then you will be upon them. You are -to give no quarter and make no prisoners. Put every man in that wood to -the sword.' -</p> -<p> -An ineffective volley rained on breastplate and helmet at the outset, -and, encouraged by this ineffectiveness, Varallo urged forward his -men-at-arms. Thus he brought them steadily within a range whereat -arbalest bolt could pierce their protecting steel plates. But Bellarion, -whose error in prematurely loosing the first volley was the fruit of -inexperience, took no chances thereafter. He ordered his men to aim at -the horses. -</p> -<p> -The result was a momentary check when a half-score of stricken chargers -reared and plunged and screamed in pain and terror, and flung off as -many riders to drown helplessly in their armour, weighed down by it and -unable to regain their feet. -</p> -<p> -But Varallo, himself scatheless, urged them on with a voice of brass, -and brought them after that momentary pause of confusion to the far -bank. Here another dozen horses were brought down, and two or three men -directly slain by bolts before Varallo had marshalled them and led them -charging up and round the shallow hill, where the ascent was easy to the -wood that crowned the bluff. -</p> -<p> -The whole of Buonterzo's army straggling along the left bank of the -river cheered them lustily on, and the dominant cry that rang out -clearly and boldly was 'No quarter!' -</p> -<p> -That cry rang in the ears of Facino Cane, as he mounted the hilltop -above and behind Buonterzo's force. He had made such good speed, acting -upon Bellarion's plan, that crossing at Rivergaro he had joined -Carmagnola, whom he met between there and Agazzano, and sweeping on, -round, and up he had completed a circuit of some twelve miles in a bare -five hours. -</p> -<p> -And here below him, at his mercy now, the strategic position of that -day's dawn completely reversed, lay Buonterzo's army, held in check -there by the skill and gallantry of Bellarion and his hundred Swiss. But -it was clear that he had arrived barely in time to command victory, and -possible that he had arrived too late to save Bellarion. -</p> -<p> -Instantly he ordered Cadillac to cleave through, and cross in a forlorn -attempt to rescue the party in the wood from the slaughter obviously -intended. And down the hill like an avalanche went the French horse upon -an enemy too stricken by surprise to take even such scant measures of -defence as the ground afforded. -</p> -<p> -Over and through them went de Cadillac, riding down scores, and hurling -hundreds into the river. Through the ford his horses plunged and -staggered at almost reckless speed, to turn Varallo's five hundred, who, -emerging from the wood, found themselves cut off by a force of twice -their strength. Back into the wood they plunged and through it, with de -Cadillac following. Out again beyond they rode, and down the slope to -the plain at breakneck speed. For a mile and more de Cadillac pursued -them. Then, bethinking him that after all his force amounted to one -third of Facino's entire army, and that his presence might be required -on the main scene of action, he turned his men and rode back. -</p> -<p> -They came again by way of the wood, and along the main path running -through it they found nigh upon a score of Swiss dead, all deliberately -butchered, and one who still lived despite his appalling wounds, whom -they brought back with them. -</p> -<p> -By the time they regained the ford, the famous Battle of Travo—as it -is known to history—was all but over. -</p> -<p> -The wide breach made in Buonterzo's ranks by de Cadillac's charge was -never healed. Perceiving the danger that was upon them from Facino's -main army, the two broken ends of that long line went off in opposite -directions, one up the valley and the other down, and it must be -confessed that Buonterzo, realising the hopelessness of the position in -which he had been surprised, himself led the flight of the latter and -more numerous part of his army. It may have been his hope to reach the -open plains beyond Rivergaro and there reform his men and make a stand -that should yet retrieve the fortunes of the day. But Facino himself -with his own condotta of twelve hundred men took a converging line along -the heights, to head Buonterzo off at the proper moment. When he judged -the moment to have arrived, Facino wheeled his long line and charged -downhill upon men who were afforded in that narrow place no opportunity -of assuming a proper formation. -</p> -<p> -Buonterzo and some two hundred horse, by desperate spurring, eluded the -charge. The remainder amounting to upwards of a thousand men were rolled -over, broken, and hemmed about, so that finally they threw down their -arms and surrendered before they were even summoned to do so. -</p> -<p> -Meanwhile Koenigshofen, with the third battle into which the army had -been so swiftly divided, dealt similarly with the fugitives who had -attempted to ascend the valley. -</p> -<p> -Two thousand prisoners, fifteen hundred horses, a hundred baggage-carts -well laden, a score of cannon besides some tons of armour and arms, was -the booty that fell to Facino Cane at Travo. Of the prisoners five -hundred Burgundian men-at-arms were taken into his own service. A -thousand others were stripped of arms, armour, and horses, whilst the -remainder, among whom were many officers and knights of condition, were -held for ransom. -</p> -<p> -The battle was over, but Facino had gone off in pursuit of Buonterzo; -and Carmagnola, assuming command, ordered the army to follow. They came -upon their leader towards evening between Rivergaro and Piacenza, where -he had abandoned the pursuit, Buonterzo having crossed the river below -the islands. -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola, flushed and exultant, gave him news of the completeness of -the victory and the richness of the booty. -</p> -<p> -'And Bellarion?' quoth Facino, his dark eyes grave. -</p> -<p> -De Cadillac told of the bodies in the wood; Stoffel with sorrow on his -long swarthy face repeated the tale of the wounded Swiss who had since -died. The fellow had reported that the men-at-arms who rode in amongst -them shouting 'No quarter!' had spared no single life. There could be no -doubt that Bellarion had perished with the rest. -</p> -<p> -Facino's chin sank to his breast, and the lines deepened in his face. -</p> -<p> -'It was his victory,' he said, slowly, sorrowfully. 'His was the mind -that conceived the plan which turned disaster into success. His the -gallantry and self-sacrifice that made the plan possible.' He turned to -Stoffel who more than any other there had been Bellarion's friend. 'Take -what men you need for the task, and go back to recover me his body. -Bring it to Milan. The whole nation shall do honour to his ashes and his -memory.' -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap09_II"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER IX -<br /><br /> -DE MORTUIS</h4> - -<p> -There are men to whom death has brought a glory that would never have -been theirs in life. An instance of that is afforded by the history of -Bellarion at this stage. -</p> -<p> -Honest, loyal, and incapable of jealousy or other kindred meanness, -Facino must have given Bellarion a due measure of credit for the victory -over Buonterzo if Bellarion had ridden back to Milan beside him. But -that he would have given him, as he did, a credit so full as to make the -achievement entirely Bellarion's, could hardly be expected of human -nature or of Facino's. A living man so extolled would completely have -eclipsed the worth of Facino himself; besides which to the man who in -achieving lays down his life, we can afford to be more -generous—because it is less costly—than to the man who -survives his achievement. -</p> -<p> -Never, perhaps, in its entire history had the Ambrosian city been moved -to such a delirium of joy as that in which it now hailed the return of -the victorious condottiero who had put an end to the grim menace -overhanging a people already distracted by internal feuds. -</p> -<p> -News of the victory had preceded Facino, who reached Milan ahead of his -army two days after Buonterzo's rout. -</p> -<p> -It had uplifted the hearts of all, from the meanest scavenger to the -Duke, himself. And yet the first words Gian Maria addressed to Facino in -the audience chamber of the Broletto, before the assembled court, were -words of censure. -</p> -<p> -'You return with the work half done. You should have pursued Buonterzo -to Parma and invested the city. This was your chance to restore it to -the crown of Milan. My father would have demanded a stern account of you -for this failure to garner the fruits of victory.' -</p> -<p> -Facino flushed to the temples. His jaw was thrust forward as he looked -the Duke boldly and scathingly between the eyes. -</p> -<p> -'Your father, Lord Prince, would have been beside me on the battle-field -to direct the operations that were to preserve his crown. Had your -highness followed his illustrious example there would be no occasion now -for a reproach that must recoil upon yourself. It would better become -your highness to return thanks for a victory purchased at great -sacrifice.' -</p> -<p> -The goggle eyes looked at him balefully until their glance faltered as -usual under the dominance of the condottiero's will, the dominance which -Gian Maria so bitterly resented. Ungracefully the slender yet awkward -body sprawled in the great gilded chair, red leg thrown over white one. -</p> -<p> -It was della Torre, tall and dark at his master's side, who came to the -Duke's assistance. 'You are a bold man, Lord Count, so to address your -prince.' -</p> -<p> -'Bold, aye!' growled the Duke, encouraged by that support. 'Body of God! -Bold to recklessness. One of these days ...' He broke off, the coarse -lips curling in a sneer. 'But you spoke of sacrifices?' The cunning that -lighted his brutishness fastened upon that. It boded, he hoped, a tale -of losses that should dim the lustre of this popular idol's achievement. -</p> -<p> -Facino rendered his accounts, and it was then that he proclaimed -Bellarion's part; he related how Bellarion's wit had devised the whole -plan which had reversed the positions on the Trebbia, and he spoke -sorrowfully of how Bellarion and his hundred Swiss had laid down their -lives to make Facino's victory certain. -</p> -<p> -'I commend his memory to your highness and to the people of Milan.' -</p> -<p> -If the narrative did not deeply move Gian Maria, at least it moved the -courtiers present, and more deeply still the people of Milan when it -reached them later. -</p> -<p> -The outcome was that after a Te Deum for the victory, the city put on -mourning for the martyred hero to whom the victory was due; and Facino -commanded a Requiem to be sung in Saint Ambrose for this Salvator -Patriæ, whose name, unknown yesterday, was by now on every man's lips. -His origin, rearing, and personal endowments were the sole subjects of -discussion. The tale of the dogs was recalled by the few who had ever -heard of it and now widely diffused as an instance of miraculous powers -which disposed men almost to canonise Bellarion. -</p> -<p> -Meanwhile, however, Facino returning exacerbated from that audience was -confronted by his lady, white-faced and distraught. -</p> -<p> -'You sent him to his death!' was the furious accusation with which she -greeted him. -</p> -<p> -He checked aghast both at the words and the tone. 'I sent him to his -death!' -</p> -<p> -'You knew to what you exposed him when you sent him to hold that ford.' -</p> -<p> -'I did not send him. Himself he desired to go; himself proposed it.' -</p> -<p> -'A boy who did not know the risk he ran!' -</p> -<p> -The memory of the protest she had made against Bellarion's going rose -suddenly invested with new meaning. Roughly, violently, he caught her by -the wrist. His face suddenly inflamed was close to her own, the veins of -his brow standing out like cords. -</p> -<p> -'A boy, you say. Was that what you found him, lady?' -</p> -<p> -Scared, but defiant, she asked him: 'What else?' -</p> -<p> -'What else? Your concern suggests that you discovered he's a man. What -was Bellarion to you?' -</p> -<p> -For once he so terrified her that every sense but that of -self-preservation abandoned her on the instant. -</p> -<p> -'To me?' she faltered. 'To me?' -</p> -<p> -'Aye, to you. Answer me.' There was death in his voice, and in the -brutal crushing grip upon her wrist. -</p> -<p> -'What should he have been, Facino?' She was almost whimpering. 'What -lewdness are you dreaming?' -</p> -<p> -'I am dreaming nothing, madam. I am asking.' -</p> -<p> -White-lipped she answered him. 'He was as a son to me.' In her affright -she fell to weeping, yet could be glad of the ready tears that helped -her to play the part so suddenly assumed. 'I have no child of my own. -And so I took him to my empty mother's breast.' -</p> -<p> -The plaint, the veiled reproach, overlaid the preposterous falsehood. -After all, if she was not old enough to be Bellarion's mother, at least -she was his senior by ten years. -</p> -<p> -Facino loosed his grip, and fell back, a little abashed and ashamed. -</p> -<p> -'What else could you have supposed him to me?' she was complaining. -'Not ... not, surely, that I had taken him for my lover?' -</p> -<p> -'No,' he lied lamely. 'I was not suspecting that.' -</p> -<p> -'What then?' she insisted, playing out her part. -</p> -<p> -He stood looking at her with feverish eyes. 'I don't know,' he cried out -at last. 'You distract me, Bice!' and he stamped out. -</p> -<p> -But the suspicion was as a poison that had entered his veins, and it was -a moody, silent Facino who sat beside his lady at the State supper given -on the following night in the old Broletto Palace. It was a banquet of -welcome to the Regent of Montferrat, his nephew the Marquis Gian -Giacomo, and his niece the Princess Valeria, whose visit was the result -of certain recent machinations on the part of Gabriello Maria. -</p> -<p> -Gabriello Maria had lately been exercised by the fundamental weakness of -Gian Maria's position, and he feared lest the victor in the conflict -between Facino and Buonterzo might, in either case, become a menace to -the Duchy. No less was he exercised by the ascendancy which was being -obtained in Milan by the Guelphs under della Torre, an ascendancy so -great that already there were rumours of a possible marriage between the -Duke and the daughter of Malatesta of Rimini, who was regarded as the -leader of the Guelphic party in Italy. Now Gabriello, if weak and -amiable, was at least sincere in his desire to serve his brother as in -his desire to make secure his own position as ducal governor. For -himself and his brother he could see nothing but ultimate disaster from -too great a Guelphic ascendancy. -</p> -<p> -Therefore, had he proposed an alliance between Gian Maria and his -father's old ally and friend, the Ghibelline Prince of Montferrat. Gian -Maria's jealous fear of Facino's popularity had favourably disposed him, -and letters had been sent to Aliprandi, the Orator of Milan at Casale. -</p> -<p> -Theodore, on his side, anxious to restore to Montferrat the cities of -Vercelli and Alessandria which had been wrested from it by the -all-conquering Gian Galeazzo, and having also an eye upon the lordship -of Genoa, once an appanage of the crown of Montferrat, had conceived -that the restoration of the former should be a condition of the treaty -of alliance which might ultimately lead to the reconquest of the latter. -</p> -<p> -Accordingly he had made haste, in response, to come in person to Milan -that he might settle the terms of the treaty with the Duke. With him he -had brought his niece and the nephew on whose behalf he ruled, who were -included in Gabriello's invitation. Gabriello's aim in this last detail -was to avert the threatened Malatesta marriage. A marriage between the -Duke and the Princess of Montferrat might be made by Theodore an -absolute condition of that same treaty, if his ambition for his niece -were properly fired. -</p> -<p> -At the banquet that night, Gabriello watched his brother, who sat with -Theodore on his right and the Princess Valeria on his left, for signs -from which he might calculate the chances of bringing the secret part of -his scheme to a successful issue. And signs were not wanting to -encourage him. It was mainly to the Princess that Gian Maria addressed -himself. His glance devoured the white beauty of her face with its crown -of red-gold hair; his pale goggle eyes leered into the depths of her own -which were so dark and inscrutable, and he discoursed the while, loud -and almost incessantly, in an obvious desire to dazzle and to please. -</p> -<p> -And perhaps because the lady remained unmoved, serenely calm, a little -absent almost, and seldom condescending even to smile at his gross -sallies, he was piqued into greater efforts for her entertainment, until -at last he blundered upon a topic which obviously commanded her -attention. It was the topic of the hour. -</p> -<p> -'There sits Facino Cane, Count of Biandrate,' he informed her. 'That -square-faced fellow yonder, beside the dark lady who is his countess. An -overrated upstart, all puffed up with pride in an achievement not his -own.' -</p> -<p> -The phrase drew the attention of the Marquis Theodore. -</p> -<p> -'But if not his own, whose, then, the achievement, highness?' -</p> -<p> -'Why a fledgling's, one whom he claims for his adoptive son.' The -adjective was stressed with sarcasm. 'A fellow named Bellarion.' -</p> -<p> -'Bellarion, eh?' The Regent betrayed interest. So, too did the Princess. -For the first time she faced her odious host. Meanwhile Gian Maria ran -on, his loud voice audible even to Facino, as he no doubt intended. -</p> -<p> -'The truth is that by his rashness Facino was all but outfought, when -this Bellarion showed him a trick by which he might turn the tables on -Buonterzo.' -</p> -<p> -'A trick?' said she, in an odd voice, and Gian Maria, overjoyed to have -won at last her attention, related in detail the strategy by which -Facino's victory had been snatched. -</p> -<p> -'A trick, as your highness said,' was her comment. 'Not a deed of arms -in which there was a cause for pride.' -</p> -<p> -Gian Maria stared at her in surprise, whilst Theodore laughed aloud. -</p> -<p> -'My niece is romantic. She reads the poets, and from them conceives of -war as a joyous joust, or a game of chivalry, with equal chances and a -straightforward encounter.' -</p> -<p> -'Why, then,' laughed the Duke, 'the tale should please you, madonna, of -how with a hundred men this rascal held the ford against Buonterzo's -army for as long as the trick's success demanded.' -</p> -<p> -'He did that?' she asked, incredulous. -</p> -<p> -'He did more. He laid down his life in doing it. He and his hundred were -massacred in cold blood. That is why on Wednesday, at Saint Ambrose, a -Requiem Mass is to be sung for him who in the eyes of my people deserves -a place in the Calendar beside Saint George.' -</p> -<p> -His aim in this high praise was less to bestow laurels upon Bellarion -than to strip them from Facino. 'And I am not sure that the people are -wrong. <i>Vox populi, vox Dei</i>. This Bellarion was oddly gifted, oddly -guarded.' In illustration of this he passed on to relate that incident -which had come to be known by then in Milan as 'The Miracle of the -Dogs.' He told the tale without any shame at the part he had played, -without any apparent sense that to hunt human beings with hounds was -other than a proper sport for a prince. -</p> -<p> -As she listened, she was conscious only of horror of this monstrous boy, -so that the flesh of her arm shrank under the touch of his short, -broad-jewelled paw, from which the finger-nails had been all but -entirely gnawed. Anon, however, in the solitude of the handsome chamber -assigned to her, she came to recall and weigh the things the Duke had -said. -</p> -<p> -This Bellarion had laid down his life in the selfless service of -adoptive father and country, like a hero and a martyr. She could -understand that in one of whom her knowledge was what it was of -Bellarion as little as she could understand the miracle of the dogs. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap10_II"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER X -<br /><br /> -THE KNIGHT BELLARION</h4> - -<p> -That Requiem Mass at Saint Ambrose's for the repose of the soul of -Bellarion was never sung. And this because, whilst the bells were -solemnly tolling in summons to the faithful, Messer Bellarion, himself, -very much in the flesh, and accompanied by Werner von Stoffel, who had -been sent to recover his body, marched into the city of Milan by the -Ticinese Gate at the head of some seventy Swiss arbalesters, the -survivors of his hundred. -</p> -<p> -There was some delay in admitting them. When that dusty company came in -sight, swinging rhythmically along, in steel caps and metal-studded -leather tunics, crossbows shouldered, the officer of the gate assumed -them to be one of the marauding bands which were continually harassing -the city by their incursions. -</p> -<p> -By the time that Bellarion had succeeded in persuading him of his -identity, rumour had already sped before him with the amazing news. -Hence, in a measure as he penetrated further into the city, the greater -was his difficulty in advancing through the crowd which turned out to -meet him and to make him acquainted with the fame to which his supposed -death had hoisted him. -</p> -<p> -In the square before the cathedral, the crowd was so dense that he could -hardly proceed at all. The bells had ceased. For news of his coming had -reached Saint Ambrose, and the intended service was naturally abandoned. -This Bellarion deplored, for a sermon on his virtues would have afforded -him an entertainment vouchsafed to few men. -</p> -<p> -At last he gained the Broletto and the courtyard of the Arrengo, which -was thronged almost as densely as the square outside. Thronged, too, -were the windows overlooking it, and in the loggia on the right -Bellarion perceived the Duke himself, standing between the tall, black, -saturnine della Torre and the scarlet Archbishop of Milan, and, beside -the Archbishop, the Countess Beatrice, a noble lady sheathed in white -samite with black hair fitting as close and regularly to her pale face -as a cap of ebony. She was leaning forward, one hand upon the parapet, -the other waving a scarf in greeting. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion savoured the moment critically, like an epicure in life's -phenomena. Fra Serafino rightly described the event as one of those many -friendly contrivings of Fortune, as a result of which he came ultimately -to be known as Bellarion the Fortunate. -</p> -<p> -Similarly he savoured the moment when he stood before the Duke and his -assembled court in the great frescoed chamber known as the Hall of -Galeazzo, named after that son of Matteo Visconti who was born <i>ad cantu -galli</i>. -</p> -<p> -Facino, himself, had fetched him thither from the court of the Arrengo, -and he stood now dusty and travel-stained, in steel cap and leather -tunic, still leaning upon the eight-foot halbert which had served him as -a staff. Calm and unabashed under the eyes of that glittering throng, he -rendered his account of this fresh miracle—as it was deemed—to -which he owed his preservation. And the account was as simple as that which -had explained to Facino the miracle of the dogs. -</p> -<p> -When Buonterzo's men-at-arms had forced the passage of the ford, -Bellarion had been on the lower part of the bluff with some two thirds -of his band. He had climbed at once to the summit, so as to conduct the -thirty men he had left there to the shelter on the southern slope. But -he came too late. The vindictive soldiers of Buonterzo were already -pursuing odd survivors through the trees to the cry of 'No quarter!' To -succour them being impossible, Bellarion conceived it his duty to save -the men who were still with him. Midway down the wooded farther slope he -had discovered, at a spot where the descent fell abruptly to a ledge, a -cave whose entrance was overgrown and dissembled by a tangle of wild -vine and jessamine. Thither he now led them at the double. The cave -burrowed deeply into the limestone rock. -</p> -<p> -'We replaced,' he related, 'the trailing plants which our entrance had -disturbed, and retired into the depths of the cave to await events, just -as the first of the horsemen topped the summit. From the edge of the -wood they surveyed the plain below. Seeing it empty, they must have -supposed that those they had caught and slain composed the entire -company which had harassed them. They turned, and rode back, only to -return again almost at once, their force enormously increased as it -seemed to us who could judge only by sounds. -</p> -<p> -'I realise now that in reality they were in flight before the French -cavalry which had been sent across to rescue us. -</p> -<p> -'For an hour or more after their passage we remained in our concealment. -At last I sent forth a scout, who reported a great body of cavalry -advancing from the Nure. This we still assumed to be Buonterzo's horse -brought back by news of Facino's real movements. For another two hours -we remained in our cave, and then at last I climbed to the summit of the -bluff, whence I could survey the farther bank of the Trebbia. To my -amazement I found it empty, and then I became aware of men moving among -the trees near at hand, and presently found myself face to face with -Werner von Stoffel, who told me of the battle fought and won whilst we -had lain in hiding.' -</p> -<p> -He went on to tell them how they had crossed the river and pushed on to -Travo in a famished state. They found the village half wrecked by the -furious tide of war that had swept over it. Yet some food they obtained, -and towards evening they set out again so as to overtake Facino's army. -But at San Giorgio, which they reached late at night, and where they -were constrained to lie, they found that Facino had not gone that way, -and that, therefore, they were upon the wrong road. Next morning, -consequently, they decided to make their own way back to Milan. -</p> -<p> -They crossed the Po at Piacenza, only to find themselves detained by the -Scotti for having marched into the town without permission. The Scotti -knew of the battle fought, but not of its ultimate issue. Buonterzo was -in flight; but he might rally. And so, for two days Bellarion and his -little band were kept in Piacenza until it was definitely known there -that Buonterzo's rout was complete. Then, at last, his departure was -permitted, since to have detained him longer must provoke the resentment -of the victorious Facino. -</p> -<p> -'We have made haste on the march since,' he concluded, 'and I rejoice to -have arrived at least in time to prevent a Requiem, which would have -been rendered a mockery by my obstinate tenacity to life.' -</p> -<p> -Thus, on a note of laughter, he closed a narrative that was a model of -lucid brevity and elegant, Tuscan delivery. -</p> -<p> -But there were two among the courtly crowd who did not laugh. One was -Francesco Busone of Carmagnola, Facino's handsome, swaggering -lieutenant, who looked sourly upon this triumph of an upstart in whom he -had already feared a rival. The other was the Princess Valeria, who, -herself unseen in that concourse, discovered in this narrative only an -impudent confession of trickery from one whom she had known as a base -trickster. Almost she suspected him of having deliberately contrived -that men should believe him dead to the end that by this sensational -resurrection he should establish himself as the hero of the hour. -</p> -<p> -Gabriello Maria, elegant and debonair, came to shake him by the hand, -and after Gabriello came the Duke with della Torre, to praise him almost -fawningly as the Victor of Travo. -</p> -<p> -'That title, Lord Duke, belongs to none but my Lord Facino.' -</p> -<p> -'Modesty, sir,' said della Torre, 'is a garment that becomes a hero.' -</p> -<p> -'If my Lord Facino did not wear it, sir, you could not lie under your -present error. He must have magnified to his own cost my little -achievement.' -</p> -<p> -But they would not have him elude their flattery, and when at last they -had done with him he was constrained to run the gauntlet of the -sycophantic court, which must fawn upon a man whom the Duke approved. -And here to his surprise he found the Marquis Theodore, who used him -very civilly and with no least allusion to their past association. -</p> -<p> -At last Bellarion escaped, and sought the apartments of Facino. There he -found the Countess alone. She rose from her seat in the loggia when he -entered, and came towards him so light and eagerly that she seemed -almost to drift across the floor. -</p> -<p> -'Bellarion!' -</p> -<p> -There was a flush on her usually pale cheeks, a glitter in her bright -slanting eyes, and she came holding out both hands in welcome. -</p> -<p> -'Bellarion!' she cried again, and her voice throbbed like the plucked -chords of a lute. -</p> -<p> -Instantly he grew uneasy. 'Madonna!' He bowed stiffly, took one of her -proffered hands, and bore it formally to his lips. 'To command!' -</p> -<p> -'Bellarion!' This time that melodious voice was pitched reproachfully. -She seized him by his leather-clad arms, and held him so, confronting -him. -</p> -<p> -'Do you know that I have mourned you dead? That I thought my heart would -break? That my own life seemed to have gone out with yours? Yet all that -you can say to me now—in such an hour as this—so cold and -formally is "to command"! Of what are you made, Bellarion?' -</p> -<p> -'And of what are you made, madonna?' Roughly almost, he disengaged -himself from her grip. He was very angry, and anger was a rare emotion -in his cold, calculating nature. 'O God! Is there no loyalty in all this -world? Below, there was the Duke to nauseate me with flattery which was -no more than base disloyalty to my lord. I escape from it to meet here a -disloyalty which wounds me infinitely more.' -</p> -<p> -She had fallen back a little, and momentarily turned aside. Suddenly she -faced him again, breathless and very white. Her long narrow eyes seemed -to grow longer and narrower. Her expression was not nice. -</p> -<p> -'Why, what are you assuming?' There was now no music in her voice. It -was harshly metallic. 'Has soldiering made you fatuous by chance?' She -laughed unpleasantly, as upon a sudden scorn-provoking revelation. 'I -see! I see! You thought that I ...! You thought ...! Why, you fool! You -poor, vain fool! Shall I tell Facino what you thought, and how you have -dared to insult me with it?' -</p> -<p> -He stood bewildered, aghast, and indignant. He sought to recall her -exact expressions. 'You used words, madonna ...' he was beginning hotly -when suddenly he checked, and when he resumed the indignation had all -gone out of him. 'What you have said is very just. I am a fool, of -course. You will give me leave?' -</p> -<p> -He made to go, but she had not yet done with him. -</p> -<p> -'I used words, you say. What words? What words that could warrant your -assumptions? I said that I had mourned you. It is true. As a mother -might have mourned you. But you ... You could think ...' She swung past -him, towards the open loggia. 'Go, sir. Go wait elsewhere for my lord.' -</p> -<p> -He departed without another word, not indeed to await Facino, whom he -did not see again until the morrow, a day which for him was very full. -</p> -<p> -Betimes he was sought by the Lord Gabriello Maria, who came at the -request of the Commune of Milan to conduct him to the Ragione Palace, -there to receive the thanks of the representatives of the people. -</p> -<p> -'I desire no thanks, and I deserve none.' His manner was almost sullen. -</p> -<p> -'You'll receive them none the less. To disregard the invitation were -ungracious.' -</p> -<p> -And so the Lord Gabriello carried off Bellarion, the son of nobody, to -the homage of the city. In the Communal Palace he listened to a recital -by the President of his shining virtues and still more shining services, -in token of their appreciation of which the fathers of the Ambrosian -city announced that they had voted him the handsome sum of ten thousand -gold florins. In other words, they had divided between himself and -Facino the sum they had been intending to award the latter for -delivering the city from the menace of Buonterzo. -</p> -<p> -After that, and in compliance with the request of the Council, the -rather bewildered Bellarion was conducted by his noble escort to receive -the accolade of knighthood. Empanoplied for the ceremony in the suit of -black armour which had been Boucicault's gift to him, he was conducted -into the court of the Arrengo, where Gian Maria in red and white -attended by the nobility of Milan awaited him. But it was Facino, very -grave and solemn, who claimed the right to bestow the accolade upon one -who had so signally and loyally served him as an esquire. And when -Bellarion rose from his knees, it was the Countess of Biandrate, at her -husband's bidding, who came to buckle the gold spurs to the heels of the -new knight. -</p> -<p> -For arms, when invited to choose a device, he announced that he would -adopt a variant of Facino's own: a dog's head argent on a field azure. -</p> -<p> -At the conclusion a herald proclaimed a joust to be held in the Castle -of Porta Giovia on the morrow when the knight Bellarion would be given -opportunity of proving publicly how well he deserved the honour to which -he had acceded. -</p> -<p> -It was a prospect which he did not relish. He knew himself without skill -at arms, in which he had served only an elementary apprenticeship during -those days at Abbiategrasso. -</p> -<p> -Nor did it increase his courage that Carmagnola should come swaggering -towards him, his florid countenance wreathed in smiles of simulated -friendliness, to claim for the morrow the honour of running a course and -breaking a lance with his new brother-knight. -</p> -<p> -He smiled, nevertheless, as falsely as Carmagnola himself. -</p> -<p> -'You honour me, Ser Francesco. I will do my endeavour.' -</p> -<p> -He noted the gleam in Carmagnola's eyes, and went, so soon as he was -free, in quest of Stoffel, with whom his friendship had ripened during -their journey from Travo. -</p> -<p> -'Tell me, Werner, have you ever seen Carmagnola in the tilt-yard?' -</p> -<p> -'Once, a year ago, in the Castle of Porta Giovia.' -</p> -<p> -'Ha! A great hulking bull of a man.' -</p> -<p> -'You describe him. He charges like a bull. He bore off the prize that -day against all comers. The Lord of Genestra had his thigh broken by -him.' -</p> -<p> -'So, so!' said Bellarion, very thoughtful. 'It's my neck he means to -break to-morrow. I read it in his smile.' -</p> -<p> -'A swaggerer,' said Stoffel. 'He'll take a heavy fall one day.' -</p> -<p> -'Unfortunately that day is not to-morrow.' -</p> -<p> -'Are you to ride against him, then?' There was concern in Stoffel's -voice. -</p> -<p> -'So he believes. But I don't. I have a feeling that to-morrow I shall -not be in case to ride against any one. I have a fever coming on: the -result of hardships suffered on the way from Travo. Nature will compel -me, I suspect, to keep my bed to-morrow.' -</p> -<p> -Stoffel considered him with grave eyes. 'Are you afraid?' -</p> -<p> -'What else?' -</p> -<p> -'And you confess it?' -</p> -<p> -'It asks courage. Which shows that whilst afraid I am not a coward. Life -is full of paradox, I find.' -</p> -<p> -Stoffel laughed. 'No need to protest your courage to me. I remember -Travo.' -</p> -<p> -'There I had a chance to succeed. Here I have none. And who accepts such -odds is not a brave man, but a fool. I don't like broken bones; and -still less a broken reputation. I mean to keep what I've won against the -day when I may need it. Reputation, Stoffel, is a delicate bubble, -easily pricked. To be unhorsed in the lists is no proper fate for a -hero.' -</p> -<p> -'You're a calculating rogue!' -</p> -<p> -'That is the difference between me and Carmagnola, who is just a -superior man-at-arms. Each to his trade, Werner, and mine isn't of the -tilt-yard, however many knighthoods they bestow on me. Which is why -to-morrow I shall have the fever.' -</p> -<p> -This resolve, however, went near to shipwreck that same evening. -</p> -<p> -In the Hall of Galeazzo the Duke gave audience, which was to be followed -by a banquet. Bidden to this came the new knight Bellarion, trailing a -splendid houppelande of sapphire velvet edged with miniver that was -caught about his waist by a girdle of hammered silver. He had dressed -himself with studied care in the azure and argent of his new blazon. His -tunic, displayed at the breast, where the houppelande fell carelessly -open, and at the arms which protruded to the elbow from the wide short -sleeves of his upper garment, was of cloth of silver, whilst his hose -was in broad vertical stripes of alternating blue and white. Even his -thick black hair was held in a caul of fine silver thread that was -studded with sapphires. -</p> -<p> -Imposingly tall, his youthful lankness dissembled by his dress, he drew -the eyes of the court as he advanced to pay homage to the Duke. -</p> -<p> -Thereafter he was held awhile in friendly talk by della Torre and the -Archbishop. It was in escaping at last from these that he found himself -suddenly looking into the solemn eyes of the Princess Valeria, of whose -presence in Milan this was his first intimation. -</p> -<p> -She stood a little apart from the main throng under the fretted -minstrel's gallery, at the end of the long hall, with the handsome Monna -Dionara for only companion. -</p> -<p> -Startled, he turned first red, then white, under the shock of that -unexpected encounter. He had a feeling, under those inscrutable eyes, of -being detected, stripped of his fine trappings and audacious carriage, -and discovered for an upstart impostor, the son of nobody, impudently -ruffling it among the great. -</p> -<p> -Thus an instant. Then, recovering his poise, he went forward with -leisurely dignity to make his bow, in which there was nothing rustic. -</p> -<p> -She coloured slightly. Her eyes kindled, and she drew back as if to -depart. A single interjectory word escaped her: 'Audacious!' -</p> -<p> -'Lady, I thank you for the word. It shall supply the motto I still lack: -"Audax," remembering that "Audaces fortuna juvat."' -</p> -<p> -She had not been a woman had she not answered him. -</p> -<p> -'Fortune has favoured you already. You prosper, sir.' -</p> -<p> -'By God's grace, madonna.' -</p> -<p> -'God has less to do with it, I think, than your own arts.' -</p> -<p> -'My arts?' He questioned not the word, but the meaning she applied to -it. -</p> -<p> -'Such arts as Judas used. You should study the end he made.' -</p> -<p> -On that she would have gone, but the sharpness of his tone arrested her. -</p> -<p> -'Madonna, if ever I practised those arts, it was in your service, and a -reproach is a poor requital.' -</p> -<p> -'In my service!' Her eyes momentarily blazed. 'Was it in my service that -you came to spy upon me and betray me? Was it in my service that you -murdered Enzo Spigno?' She smiled with terrible bitterness. 'I have, you -see, no illusions left of the service that you did me.' -</p> -<p> -'No illusions!' His voice was wistful. She reasoned much as he had -feared that she would reason. 'Lord God! You are filled with illusions; -the result of inference; and I warned you, madonna, that inference is -not your strength.' -</p> -<p> -'You poor buffoon! Will you pretend that you did not murder Spigno?' -</p> -<p> -'Of course I did.' -</p> -<p> -The admission amazed her where she had expected denial. -</p> -<p> -'You confess it? You dare to confess it?' -</p> -<p> -'So that in future you may assert with knowledge what you have not -hesitated to assert upon mere suspicion. Shall I inform you of the -reason at the same time? I killed Count Spigno because he was the spy -sent by your uncle to betray you, so that your brother's ruin might be -accomplished.' -</p> -<p> -'Spigno!' she cried in so loud a voice of indignation that her lady -clutched her arm to impose caution. 'You say that of Spigno? He was the -truest, bravest friend I ever knew, and his murder shall be atoned if -there is a justice in heaven. It is enough.' -</p> -<p> -'Not yet, madonna. Consider only that one circumstance which intrigued -the Podestà of Casale: that at dead of night, when all Barbaresco's -household was asleep, only Count Spigno and I were afoot and fully -dressed. Into what tale does that fit besides the lie I told the -Podestà? Shall I tell you?' -</p> -<p> -'Shall I listen to one who confesses himself a liar and murderer?' -</p> -<p> -'Alas! Both: in the service of an ungracious lady. But hear now the -truth.' -</p> -<p> -Briefly and swiftly he told it. -</p> -<p> -'I am to believe that?' she asked him in sheer scorn. 'I am to be so -false to the memory of one who served me well and faithfully as to -credit this tale of his baseness upon no better word than yours? Why, it -is a tale which even if true must brand you for a beast. This man, -whatever he may have been, was moved to rescue you, you say, from -certain doom; and all the return you made him for that act of charity -was to stab him!' -</p> -<p> -He wrung his hands in despair. 'Oh, the perversity of your reasoning! -But account me a beast if you will for the deed. Yet admit that the -intention was selfless. Judge the result. I killed Count Spigno to make -you safe, and safe it has made you. If I had other aims, if I were an -agent to destroy you, why did I not speak out in the Podestà's court?' -</p> -<p> -'Because your unsupported word would hardly have sufficed to doom -persons of our condition.' -</p> -<p> -'Which again is precisely why I killed Count Spigno: because if he had -lived, he would have supported it. Is it becoming clear?' -</p> -<p> -'Clear? Shall I tell you what is clear? That you killed Spigno in -self-defence when he discovered you for the Judas that you were. Oh, -believe me, it is very clear. To make it so there are your lies to me, -your assertion that you were a poor nameless scholar who had imposed -himself upon the Marquis Theodore by the pretence of being Facino Cane's -son. A pretence you said it was. You'll deny that now.' -</p> -<p> -Some of his assurance left him. 'No. I don't deny it.' -</p> -<p> -'You'll tell me, perhaps, that you deceived the Lord Facino himself with -that pretence?' And now without waiting for an answer, she demolished -him with the batteries of her contempt. 'In so great a pretender even -that were possible. You pretended to lay down your life at Travo, yet -behold you resurrected to garner the harvest which that trick has earned -you.' -</p> -<p> -'Oh, shameful!' he cried out, stirred to anger by a suspicion so -ignoble. -</p> -<p> -'Are you not rewarded and knighted for the stir that was made by the -rumour of your death? You are to give proof of your knightly worth in -the lists to-morrow. It will be interesting.' -</p> -<p> -On that she left him standing there with wounds in his soul that would -take long to heal. When at last he swung away, a keen eye observed the -pallor of his face and the loss of assurance from his carriage; the eye -of Facino's lady who approached him on her lord's arm. -</p> -<p> -'You are pale, Bellarion,' she commented in pure malice, having watched -his long entertainment with the Princess of Montferrat. -</p> -<p> -'Indeed, madonna, I am none so well.' -</p> -<p> -'Not ailing, Bellarion?' There was some concern in Facino's tone and -glance. -</p> -<p> -And there and then the rogue saw his opportunity and took it. -</p> -<p> -'It will be nothing.' He passed a hand across his brow. -</p> -<p> -'The excitement following upon the strain of these last days.' -</p> -<p> -'You should be abed, boy.' -</p> -<p> -'It is what I tell myself.' -</p> -<p> -He allowed Facino to persuade him, and quietly departed. His sudden -illness was rumoured later at the banquet when his place remained -vacant, and consequently there was little surprise when it was known on -the morrow that a fever prevented him from bearing his part in the -jousts at Porta Giovia. -</p> -<p> -By the doctor who ministered to him, he sent a message to Carmagnola of -deepest and courtliest regret that he was not permitted to rise and -break a lance with him. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap11_II"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER XI -<br /><br /> -THE SIEGE OF ALESSANDRIA</h4> - -<p> -Gabriello Maria Visconti's plans for the restoration of Ghibelline -authority suffered shipwreck, as was to be expected in a council mainly -composed of Guelphs. -</p> -<p> -The weapon placed in their hands by Gabriello Maria for his own defeat -was the Marquis Theodore's demand, as the price of his alliance, that he -should be supported in the attempt to recover Genoa to Montferrat. -</p> -<p> -Della Torre laughed the proposal to scorn. 'And thereby incur the -resentment of the King of France!' He developed that argument so -speciously that not even Facino, who was present, suspected that it did -not contain the true reason of della Torre's opposition. -</p> -<p> -In hiring a French contingent to strengthen the army which he had led -against Buonterzo, Facino had shown the uses that could be made of -Boucicault. What Facino had done della Torre could do, nominally on the -Duke's behalf. He could hire lances from Boucicault to set against -Facino himself when the need for this arose. -</p> -<p> -'Possibly,' ventured Gabriello, 'the surrender of Vercelli and certain -other guarantees would suffice to bring Montferrat into alliance.' -</p> -<p> -But della Torre desired no such alliance. 'Surrender Vercelli! We have -surrendered too much already. It is time we sought alliances that will -restore to Milan some of the fiefs of which she has been robbed.' -</p> -<p> -'And where,' Facino quietly asked him, 'will you find such allies?' -</p> -<p> -Della Torre hesitated. He knew as well as any man that policies may be -wrecked by premature disclosure. If his cherished scheme of alliance -with Malatesta of Rimini were suspected, Facino, forewarned, would arm -himself to frustrate it. He lowered his glance. -</p> -<p> -'I am not prepared to say where they may be found. But I am prepared to -say that they are not to be found in Theodore of Montferrat at the price -demanded by that Prince.' -</p> -<p> -Gabriello Maria was left to make what excuses he could to the Marquis -Theodore; and the Marquis Theodore received them in no pleasant manner. -He deemed himself slighted, and said so; hinting darkly that Milan -counted enemies enough already without wantonly seeking to add to them. -Thus in dudgeon he returned to Montferrat. -</p> -<p> -Della Torre's patient reticence was very shortly justified. -</p> -<p> -In the early days of June came an urgent and pitiful appeal from the -Duke's brother, Filippo Maria, Count of Pavia, for assistance against -the Vignati of Lodi, who were ravaging his territories and had seized -the city of Alessandria. -</p> -<p> -The Duke was in his closet with della Torre and Lonate when that letter -reached him. He scowled and frowned and grunted over the parchment -awhile, then tossed it to della Torre. -</p> -<p> -'A plague on him that wrote it! Can you read the scrawl, Antonio?' -</p> -<p> -Della Torre took it up. 'It is from your brother, highness; the Lord -Filippo Maria.' -</p> -<p> -'That skin of lard!' Gian Maria was contemptuous. 'If he remembers my -existence, he must be in need of something.' -</p> -<p> -Della Torre gravely read the letter aloud. The Prince guffawed once or -twice over a piteous phrase, meanwhile toying with the head of a great -mastiff that lay stretched at his feet. -</p> -<p> -He guffawed more heartily than ever at the end, the malice of his nature -finding amusement in the calamities of his brother. 'His Obesity of -Pavia is disturbed at last! Let the slothful hog exert himself, and -sweat away some of his monstrous bulk.' -</p> -<p> -'Do not laugh yet, my lord.' Della Torre's lean, crafty, swarthy face -was grave. 'I have ever warned you against the ambition of Vignate, and -that it would not be satisfied with the reconquest of Lodi. He is in -arms, not so much against your brother as against the house of -Visconti.' -</p> -<p> -'God's bones!' Goggle-eyed, the Duke stared at his adviser. Then to vent -unreasoning fury he rose and caught the dog a vicious kick which drove -it yelping from him. 'By Hell, am I to go in arms against Vignate? Is -that your counsel?' -</p> -<p> -'No less.' -</p> -<p> -'And this campaign against Buonterzo scarcely ended! Am I to have -nothing but wars and feuds and strife to distract my days? Am I to spend -all in quelling brigandage? By the Passion! I'd as soon be Duke of Hell -as reign in Milan.' -</p> -<p> -'In that case,' said della Torre, 'do nothing, and the rest may follow.' -</p> -<p> -'Devil take you, Antonio!' He caught up a hawk-lure from the table, and -set himself to strip it as he talked, scattering the feathers about the -room. 'Curb him, you say? Curb this damned thief of Lodi? How am I to -curb him? The French lances are gone back to Boucicault. The -parsimonious fathers of this miserly city were in haste to dismiss them. -They think of nothing but ducats, may their souls perish! They think -more of ducats than of their duke.' Inconsequently, peevishly, he ranted -on, reducing the hawk-lure to rags the while, and showing the crafty -della Torre his opportunity. -</p> -<p> -'Vignate,' he said at last, when the Duke ceased, 'can be in no great -strength when all is reckoned. Facino's own condotta should fully -suffice to whip him out of Alessandria and back to Lodi.' -</p> -<p> -Gian Maria moved restlessly about the room. -</p> -<p> -'What if it should not? What if Facino should be broken by Vignate? What -then? Vignate will be at the gates of Milan.' -</p> -<p> -'He might be if we could not prepare for the eventuality.' -</p> -<p> -With a sudden curious eagerness Gian Maria glared at his mentor. 'Can -we? In God's name, can we? If we could ...' He checked. But the sudden -glow of hate and evil hope in his prominent pale eyes showed how he was -rising to the bait. -</p> -<p> -Della Torre judged the moment opportune. 'We can,' he answered firmly. -</p> -<p> -'How, man? How?' -</p> -<p> -'In alliance with Malatesta your highness would be strong enough to defy -all comers.' -</p> -<p> -'Malatesta!' The Duke leapt as if stung. But instantly he curbed -himself. The loose embryonic features tightened, reflecting the -concentration of the embryonic wicked mind within. 'Malatesta, eh?' His -tone was musing. He let himself drop once more into his broad armchair, -and sat there, cross-legged, pondering. -</p> -<p> -Della Torre moved softly to his side, and lowered his voice to an -impressive note. -</p> -<p> -'Indeed, your highness should consider whether you will not in any event -bring in Malatesta so soon as Facino has departed on this errand.' -</p> -<p> -The handsome, profligate Lonate, lounging, a listener by the window, -cleared up all ambiguity: 'And so make sure that this upstart does not -return to trouble you again.' -</p> -<p> -Gian Maria's head sank a little between his shoulders. Here was his -chance to rid himself for all time of the tyrannical tutelage of that -condottiero, made strong by popular support. -</p> -<p> -'You speak as if sure that Malatesta will come.' -</p> -<p> -Della Torre put his cards on the table at last. 'I am. I have his word -that he will accept a proposal of alliance from your highness.' -</p> -<p> -'You have his word!' The ever-ready suspicions of a weak mind were -stirring. -</p> -<p> -'I took his feeling against the hour when your potency might need a -friend.' -</p> -<p> -'And the price?' -</p> -<p> -Della Torre spread his hands. 'Malatesta has ambitions for his daughter. -If she were Duchess of Milan ...' -</p> -<p> -'Is that a condition?' The Duke's voice was sharp. -</p> -<p> -'A contingency only,' della Torre untruthfully assured him. 'Yet if -realised the alliance would be consolidated. It would become a family -affair.' -</p> -<p> -'Give me air! Let me think.' He rose, thrusting della Torre away by a -sweep of his thin arm. -</p> -<p> -Ungainly in his gaudy red and white, shuffling his feet as he went, he -crossed to the window where Lonate made way for him. There he stood a -moment looking out, whilst between Lonate and della Torre a look of -intelligence was flashed. -</p> -<p> -Suddenly the boy swung round again, and his grotesque countenance was -flushed. 'By God and His Saints! What thought does it ask?' He laughed, -slobberingly, at the picture in his mind of a Facino Cane ruined beyond -redemption. Nor could he perceive, poor fool, that he would be but -exchanging one yoke for another, probably heavier. -</p> -<p> -Still laughing, he dismissed della Torre and Lonate, and sent for -Facino. When the condottiero came, he was given Filippo Maria's letter, -which he spelled out with difficulty, being little more of a scholar -than the Duke. -</p> -<p> -'It is grave,' he said when he had reached the end. -</p> -<p> -'You mean that Vignate is to be feared?' -</p> -<p> -'Not so long as he is alone. But how long will he so continue? What if -he should be joined by Estorre Visconti and the other malcontents? -Singly they matter nothing. United they become formidable. And this bold -hostility of Vignate's may be the signal for a league.' -</p> -<p> -'What then?' -</p> -<p> -'Smash Vignate and drive him out of Alessandria before it becomes a -rallying-ground for your enemies.' -</p> -<p> -'About it, then,' rasped the Duke. 'You have the means.' -</p> -<p> -'With the Burgundians enlisted after Travo, my condotta stands at two -thousand three hundred men. If the civic militia is added ...' -</p> -<p> -'It is required for the city's defence against Estorre and the other -roving insurgents.' -</p> -<p> -Facino did not argue the matter. -</p> -<p> -'I'll do without it, then.' -</p> -<p> -He set out next day at early morning, and by nightfall, the half of that -march to Alessandria accomplished, he brought his army, wearied and -exhausted by the June heat, to rest under the red walls of Pavia. -</p> -<p> -To proceed straight against the very place which Vignate had seized and -held was a direct course of action in conflict with ideas which -Bellarion did not hesitate to lay before the war-experienced officers -composing Facino's council. He prefaced their exposition by laying down -the principle, a little didactically, that the surest way to defeat an -opponent is to assault him at the weakest point. So much Facino and his -officers would have conceded on the battle-ground itself. But -Bellarion's principle involved a wider range, including the enemy's -position before ever battle was joined so as to ensure that the -battle-ground itself should be the enemy's weakest point. The course he -now urged entailed an adoption of the strategy employed by the Athenians -against the Thebans in the Peloponnesian war, a strategy which Bellarion -so much admired and was so often to apply. -</p> -<p> -In its application now, instead of attacking Alessandria behind whose -walls the enemy lay in strength, he would have invaded Vignate's own -temporarily unguarded Tyranny of Lodi. -</p> -<p> -Facino laughed a little at his self-sufficiency, and, emboldened by -that, Carmagnola took it upon himself to put the fledgling down. -</p> -<p> -'It is in your nature, I think, to avoid the direct attack.' He sneered -as he spoke, having in mind the jousts at Milan and the manner in which -Bellarion had cheated him of the satisfaction upon which he counted. -'You forget, sir, that your knighthood places you under certain -obligations.' -</p> -<p> -'But not, I hope,' said Bellarion innocently, 'under the obligation of -being a fool.' -</p> -<p> -'Do you call me that?' Carmagnola's sudden suavity was in itself a -provocation. -</p> -<p> -'You boast yourself the champion of the direct attack. It is the method -of the bull. But I have never heard it argued from this that the bull is -intelligent even among animals.' -</p> -<p> -'So that now you compare me with a bull?' Carmagnola flushed a little, -conscious that Koenigshofen and Stoffel were smiling. -</p> -<p> -'Quiet!' growled Facino. 'We are not here to squabble among ourselves. -Your assumptions, Bellarion, sometimes become presumptions.' -</p> -<p> -'So you thought on the Trebbia.' -</p> -<p> -Facino brought his great fist down upon the table. 'In God's name! Will -you be pert? You interrupt me. Battering-ram tactics are not in my mind. -I choose a different method. But I attack Alessandria none the less, -because Vignate and his men are there.' -</p> -<p> -Discreetly Bellarion said no more, suppressing the argument that by -reducing unguarded Lodi and restoring it to the crown of Milan from -which it had been ravished, a moral effect might be produced of -far-reaching effect upon the fortunes of the duchy. -</p> -<p> -After a conference with Filippo Maria in his great castle of Pavia, -Facino resumed his march, his army now increased by six hundred Italian -mercenaries under a soldier of fortune named Giasone Trotta, whom -Filippo Maria had hired. He took with him a considerable train of siege -artillery, of mangonels, rimbaults, and cannon, to which the Count of -Pavia had materially added. -</p> -<p> -Nevertheless, he did not approach Alessandria within striking distance -of such weapons. He knew the strength to withstand assault of that -fortress-city, built some three hundred years before on the confines of -the Pavese and Montferrat to be a Guelphic stronghold in the struggle -between Church and Empire. Derisively then the Ghibellines had dubbed it -a fortress of straw. But astride of the river Tanaro, above its junction -with the Bormida, this Alessandria of Straw had successfully defied -them. -</p> -<p> -Facino proposed to employ the very strength of her strategic position -for the undoing of her present garrison if it showed fight. And -meanwhile he would hem the place about, so as to reduce it by -starvation. -</p> -<p> -Crossing the Po somewhere in the neighbourhood of Bassignana, he marched -up the left bank of the Tanaro to Pavone, a village in the plain by the -river just within three miles of Alessandria. There he took up his -quarters, and thence on a radius of some three miles he drew a cordon -throughout that low-lying, insalubrious land, intersected with -watercourses, where only rice-fields flourished. This cordon crossed the -two rivers just above their junction, swept thence to Marengo, -recrossing the Bormida, ran to Aulara in the south and on to -Casalbagliano in the West, just beyond which it crossed the Tanaro -again, and, by way of San Michele in the north, went on to complete the -circle at Pavone. -</p> -<p> -So swift had been the movement that the first intimation to the -Alessandrians that they were besieged was from those who, issuing from -the city on the morrow, were stopped at the lines and ordered to return. -</p> -<p> -From information obtained from these, in many cases under threat of -torture, it became clear that the populous city was indifferently -victualled, and unequal, therefore, to a protracted resistance. And this -was confirmed during the first week by the desperate efforts made by -Vignate, who was raging like a trapped wolf in Alessandria. Four times -he attempted to break out in force. But within the outer circle, and -close to the city so as to keep it under observation, Facino had drawn a -ring of scouts, whose warning in each case enabled him to concentrate -promptly at the point assailed. The advantage lay with Facino in these -engagements, since the cavalry upon which Vignate chiefly depended found -it impossible to operate successfully in those swampy plains. Over -ground into which the horses sank to their fetlocks at every stride, a -cavalry charge was a <i>brutum fulmen</i>. Horses were piked by -Koenigshofen's foot, and formations smashed and hurled back by an enemy -upon whom their impact was no more than a spent blow. -</p> -<p> -If they escaped it was because Facino would make no prisoners. He would -not willingly relieve Alessandria of a single mouth that would help to -eat up its power of endurance. For the same reason he enjoined it upon -his officers that they should be as sparing as possible of life. -</p> -<p> -'That is to say, of human life,' said Bellarion, raising his voice in -council for the first time since last rebuked. -</p> -<p> -They looked at him, not understanding. -</p> -<p> -'What other life is in question?' asked Carmagnola. -</p> -<p> -'There are the horses. If allowed to survive, they may be eaten in the -last extremity.' -</p> -<p> -They acted upon that reminder when Vignate made his next sally. Facino -did not wait as hitherto to receive the charge upon his pikes, but raked -the enemy ranks, during their leisurely advance and again during their -subsequent retreat with low-aimed arbalest bolts which slew only horses. -</p> -<p> -Whether Vignate perceived the reason, or whether he came to realise that -the ground was not suitable for cavalry, his fourth sally, to the north -in the direction of San Michele, was made on foot. He had some two -thousand men in his following, and had they been lightly armed and -properly led it is probable that they would have broken through, for the -opposing force was materially less. But Vignate, unaccustomed to -handling infantry, committed the error of the French at Agincourt. He -employed dismounted men-at-arms in all the panoply in which normally -they rode to battle. Their fate was similar to that of the French on -that earlier occasion. Toiling over the clammy ground in their heavy -armour, their advance became leaden-footed, and by the time they reached -Facino's lines they were exhausted men easily repulsed, and as glad as -they were surprised to escape death or capture. -</p> -<p> -After that failure, three representatives of the Commune of Alessandria, -accompanied by one of Vignate's captains, presented themselves at -Facino's quarters in the house of the Curate of Pavone, temporarily -appropriated by the condottiero. -</p> -<p> -They were ushered into a plain yellow-washed room, bare of all -decoration save that of a crudely painted wooden crucifix which hung -upon the wall above a straight-backed wooden settle. An oblong table of -common pine stood before this settle; a writing-pulpit, also of pine, -placed under one of the two windows by which the place was lighted, and -four rough stools and a shallow armchair completed the furniture. -</p> -<p> -The only gentle touch about that harsh interior was supplied by the -sweet-smelling lemon verbena and rosemary mingled in the fresh rushes -with which the floor was copiously strewn to dissemble its earthen -nudity. -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola, showily dressed as usual in blue and crimson, with -marvellously variegated hose and a jewelled caul confining his flaxen -hair, had appropriated the armchair, and his gorgeous presence seemed to -fill the place. Stoffel, Koenigshofen, Giasone Trotta, and Vougeois, who -commanded the Burgundians, occupied the stools and afforded him a sober -background. Bellarion leaned upon the edge of the settle, where Facino -sat alone, square-faced and stern, whilst the envoys invited him to -offer terms for the surrender of the city. -</p> -<p> -'The Lord Count of Pavia,' he told them, 'does not desire to mulct too -heavily those of his Alessandrian subjects who have remained loyal. He -realises the constraint of which they may have been the victims, and he -will rest content with a payment of fifty thousand florins to indemnify -him for the expenses of this expedition.' The envoys breathed more -freely. But Facino had not yet done. 'For myself I shall require another -fifty thousand florins for distribution among my followers, to ransom -the city from pillage.' -</p> -<p> -The envoys were aghast. 'One hundred thousand gold florins!' cried one. -'My lord, it will ...' -</p> -<p> -He raised his hand for silence. 'That as regards the Commune of -Alessandria. Now, as concerns the Lord Vignate, who has so rashly -ventured upon this aggression. He is allowed until noon to-morrow to -march out of Alessandria with his entire following, but leaving behind -all arms, armour, horses, bullocks, and war material of whatsoever kind. -Further, he will enter into a bond for one hundred thousand florins, to -be paid either by himself personally or by the Commune of Lodi to the -Lord Count of Pavia's city of Alessandria, to indemnify the latter for -the damages sustained by this occupation. And my Lord Vignate will -further submit to the occupation of the city of Lodi by an army of not -more than two thousand men, who will be housed and fed and salaried at -the city of Lodi's charges until the indemnity is paid. With the further -condition that if payment is not made within one month, the occupying -army shall take it by putting the city to sack.' -</p> -<p> -The officer sent by Vignate, a stiff, black-bearded fellow named -Corsana, flushed indignantly. 'These terms are very harsh,' he -complained. -</p> -<p> -'Salutary, my friend,' Facino corrected him. 'They are intended to show -the Lord Vignate that brigandage is not always ultimately profitable.' -</p> -<p> -'You think he will agree?' The man's air was truculent. The three -councillors looked scared. -</p> -<p> -Facino smiled grimly. 'If he has an alternative, let him take advantage -of it. But let him understand that the offer of these terms is for -twenty-four hours only. After that I shall not let him off so lightly.' -</p> -<p> -'Lightly!' cried Corsano in anger, and would have added more but that -Facino cropped the intention. -</p> -<p> -'You have leave to go.' Thus, royally, Facino dismissed them. -</p> -<p> -They did not return within the twenty-four hours, nor as day followed -day did Vignate make any further sign. Time began to hang heavily on the -hands of the besiegers, and Facino's irritation grew daily, particularly -when an attack of the gout came to imprison him in the cheerless house -of the Curate of Pavone. -</p> -<p> -One evening a fortnight after the parley and nearly a month after the -commencement of the siege, as Facino sat at supper with his officers, -all save Stoffel, who was posted at Casalbagliano, the condottiero, who -was growing impatient of small things, inveighed against the quality of -the food. -</p> -<p> -It was Giasone Trotta, to whose riders fell the task of provisioning the -army, who answered him. 'Faith! If the siege endures much longer, it is -we who will be starved by it. My men have almost cleaned up the -countryside for a good ten miles in every direction.' -</p> -<p> -It was a jocular exaggeration, but it provoked an explosion from Facino. -</p> -<p> -'God confound me if I understand how they hold out. With two thousand -ravenous soldiers in the place, a week should have brought them to -starvation.' -</p> -<p> -Koenigshofen thoughtfully stroked his square red beard. 'It's colossally -mysterious,' said he. -</p> -<p> -'Mysterious, aye! That's what plagues me. They must be fed from -outside.' -</p> -<p> -'That is quite impossible!' Carmagnola was emphatic. As Facino's -lieutenant, it fell to his duty to see that the cordon was properly -maintained. -</p> -<p> -'Yet what is the alternative,' wondered Bellarion, 'unless they are -eating one another?' -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola's blue eyes flashed upon him almost malevolently for this -further reflection upon his vigilance. -</p> -<p> -'You set me riddles,' he said disdainfully. -</p> -<p> -'And you're not good at riddles, Francesco,' drawled Bellarion, meeting -malice with malice. 'I should have remembered it.' -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola heaved himself up. 'Now, by the Bones of God, what do you -mean?' -</p> -<p> -The ears of the ill-humoured Facino had caught a distant sound. 'Quiet, -you bellowing calf!' he snapped. 'Listen! Listen! Who comes at that -breakneck speed?' -</p> -<p> -It was a hot, breathless night of July, and the windows stood wide to -invite a cooling draught. As the four men, so bidden, grew attentive, -they caught from the distance the beat of galloping hooves. -</p> -<p> -'It's not from Alessandria,' said Koenigshofen. -</p> -<p> -'No, no,' grunted Facino, and thereafter they listened in silence. -</p> -<p> -There was no reason for it save such colour as men's imaginings will -give a sound breaking the deathly stillness of a hot dark night, yet -each conceived and perhaps intercommunicated a feeling that these hooves -approaching so rapidly were harbingers of portents. -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola went to the door as two riders clattered down the village -street, and, seeing the tall figure silhouetted against the light from -within, they slackened pace. -</p> -<p> -'The Lord Facino Cane of Biandrate? Where is he quartered?' -</p> -<p> -'Here!' roared Carmagnola, and at the single word the horses were pulled -up with a rasping of hooves that struck fire from the ground. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap12_II"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER XII -<br /><br /> -VISCONTI FAITH</h4> - -<p> -If Facino Cane's eyes grew wide in astonishment to see his countess -ushered into that mean chamber by Carmagnola, wider still did they grow -to behold the man who accompanied her and to consider their inexplicable -conjunction. For this man was Giovanni Pusterla of Venegono, cousin to -that Pusterla who had been castellan of Monza, and who by Gian Maria's -orders had procured the assassination of Gian Maria's mother. -</p> -<p> -The rest is a matter of history upon which I have already touched. -</p> -<p> -In a vain attempt to mask his own matricide, to make the crime appear as -the work of another, Gian Maria had seized the unfortunate castellan who -had served his evil will too faithfully and charging him with the crime -caused him barbarously and without trial to be done to death. -Thereafter, because he perceived that this did not suffice to turn the -public mind from the conviction of his own horrible guilt, Gian Maria -had vowed the extermination of the Pusterla family, as a blood-offering -to the manes of his murdered mother. It was a Pusterla whom he had -hunted with his dogs into the arms of Bellarion in the meadows of -Abbiategrasso, and that was the fifth innocent member of the family whom -he had done to death in satisfaction of his abominable vow. -</p> -<p> -This Pusterla of Venegono, who now led the Countess Beatrice into her -husband's presence, was a slight but vigorous and moderately tall man of -not more than thirty, despite the grey that so abundantly mingled with -his thick black hair. His shaven countenance was proud and resolute, -with a high-bridged nose flanked perhaps too closely by dark eyes that -glowed and flashed as in reflection of his superabundant energy of body -and of spirit. -</p> -<p> -Between himself and Facino there was esteem; but no other link to -account for his sudden appearance as an escort to the Lady Beatrice. -</p> -<p> -From the settle which he occupied, his ailing leg stretched upon it, the -amazed Facino greeted them by a rough soldier's oath on a note of -interrogation. -</p> -<p> -The Countess, white and lovely, swept towards him. -</p> -<p> -'You are ailing, Facino!' Concern charged her murmuring voice as she -stooped to receive his kiss. -</p> -<p> -His countenace brightened, but his tone was almost testy. -</p> -<p> -To discuss his ailments now was but to delay the explanation that he -craved. 'That I ail is no matter. That you should be here ... What -brings you, Bice, and with Venegono there?' -</p> -<p> -'Aye, we take you by surprise,' she answered him. 'Yet Heaven knows -there would be no need for that if ever you had heeded me, if ever you -had used your eyes and your wits as I bade you.' -</p> -<p> -'Will you tell me what brings you, and leave the rest?' -</p> -<p> -She hesitated a moment, then swung imperially to her travelling -companion. -</p> -<p> -'Tell him, Messer da Venegono.' -</p> -<p> -Venegono responded instantly. He spoke rapidly, using gestures freely, -his face an ever-shifting mirror of his feelings, so that at once you -knew him for a brisk-minded, impulsive man. 'We are here to speak of -what is happening in Milan. Do you know nothing of it, my lord?' -</p> -<p> -'In Milan? Despatches reach me weekly from his highness. They report -nothing that is not reassuring.' -</p> -<p> -The Countess laughed softly, bitterly. Venegono plunged on. -</p> -<p> -'Is it reassuring to you that the Malatesta of Rimini, Pandolfo, and his -brother Carlo are there with an army five thousand strong?' -</p> -<p> -Facino was genuinely startled. 'They are moving against Milan?' -</p> -<p> -Again the Countess laughed, and this time Venegono laughed with her. -</p> -<p> -'Against it?' And he launched his thunderbolt. 'They are there at the -express invitation of the Duke.' Without pausing for breath he completed -the tale. 'On the second of the month the Lady Antonia Malatesta was -married to Duke Gian Maria, and her father has been created Governor of -Milan.' -</p> -<p> -A dead silence followed, broken at last by Facino. The thing was utterly -incredible. He refused to believe it, and said so with an oath. -</p> -<p> -'My lord, I tell you of things that I have witnessed,' Benegono -insisted. -</p> -<p> -'Witnessed? Have you been in Milan? You?' -</p> -<p> -Venegono's features twisted into a crooked smile. 'After all there are -still enough staunch Ghibellines in Milan to afford me shelter. I take -my precautions, Lord Count. But I do not run from danger. No Pusterla -ever did, which is why this hell-hound Duke has made so many victims.' -</p> -<p> -Appalled, Facino looked at him from under heavy brows. Then his lady -spoke, a faint smile of bitter derision on her pale face. -</p> -<p> -'You'll understand now why I am here, Facino. You'll see that it was no -longer safe in Milan for Facino's wife: the wife of the man whose ruin -is determined and to be purchased by the Duke at all costs: even at the -cost of putting his neck under Malatesta's heel.' -</p> -<p> -Facino's mind, however, was still entirely absorbed by the main issue. -</p> -<p> -'But Gabriello?' he cried. -</p> -<p> -'Gabriello, my lord,' said Venegono promptly, 'is as much a victim, and -has been taken as fully by surprise, as you and every Ghibelline in -Milan. It is all the work of della Torre. To what end he strives only -himself and Satan know. Perhaps he will lead Gian Maria to destruction -in the end. It may be his way of resuming the old struggle for supremacy -between Visconti and Torriani. Anyhow, his is the guiding brain.' -</p> -<p> -'But did that weak bastard Gabriello never raise a hand ...' -</p> -<p> -'Gabriello, my lord, has gone to earth for his own safety's sake in the -Castle of Porta Giovia. There Malatesta is besieging him, and the city -has been converted into an armed camp labouring to reduce its own -citadel. That monster Gian Maria has set a price upon the head of the -brother who has so often shielded him from the just wrath of the Commune -and the people. There is a price, too, upon the heads of his cousins -Antonio and Francesco Visconti, who are with Gabriello in the fortress, -together with many other Ghibellines among whom my own cousin Giovanni -Pusterla. Lord!' he ended passionately, 'if the great Galeazzo could but -come to life again, to see the filthy shambles his horrible son has made -of the great realm he built!' -</p> -<p> -Silence followed. Facino, his head lowered, his brows knitted, was -drawing a geometrical figure on the table with the point of a knife. -Presently whilst so engaged he spoke, slowly, sorrowfully. -</p> -<p> -'I am the last of all those condottieri who were Gian Galeazzo's -brothers-in-arms; the last of those who helped him build up the great -state which his degenerate son daily dishonours. His faithless, -treacherous nature drove the others away from him one by one, each -taking some part of his dominions to make an independent state for -himself! I alone have remained, loyally to serve and support his -tottering throne, making war upon my brother condottieri in his defence, -suffering for him and from him, for the sake of his great father who was -my friend, for the sake of the trust which his father left me when he -died. And now I have my wages. I am sent to restore Alessandria to the -pestilential hands of these false Visconti from which it has been -wrested, and whilst I am about this errand, my place is usurped by the -greatest Guelph in Italy, and measures are taken to prevent my ever -returning.' His voice almost broke. -</p> -<p> -There was a long-drawn sigh from the Countess. 'There is no need to tell -you more,' she murmured. 'You begin to open your eyes, and to see for -yourself at last.' -</p> -<p> -And then Venegono was speaking. -</p> -<p> -'I come to you, Facino, in the name of all the Ghibellines of Milan, who -look to you as to their natural leader, who trust you and have no hope -save in you. Before this Guelphic outrage they cringe in terror of the -doom that creeps upon them. Already Milan is a city of blood and horror. -You are our party's only hope, Milan's only hope in this dreadful hour.' -</p> -<p> -Facino buried the knife-blade deep in the table with sudden violence, -and left it quivering there. He raised at last his eyes. They were -blood-injected, and the whole expression of his face had changed. The -good-nature of which it habitually wore the stamp had been entirely -effaced. -</p> -<p> -'Let God but heal this leg of mine,' he said, 'and from my hands the -Visconti shall eat the fruits of treachery until they choke them.' -</p> -<p> -He stretched out his hand as he spoke towards the crucifix that hung -upon the wall, making of his threat a solemn vow. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion, looking beyond him, at the Countess, read in the covert -exultation of her face her assumption that her greed for empire was at -last promised gratification and her insensibility that it should be -purchased on terms that broke her husband's heart. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap13_II"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER XIII -<br /><br /> -THE VICTUALLERS</h4> - -<p> -In the torrid heat of the following noontide, Bellarion rode alone to -visit Stoffel at Casalbagliano. He did not go round by the lines, but -straight across country, which brought him past the inner posts of -surveillance and as close under the red walls of Alessandria as it was -safe to go. -</p> -<p> -The besieged city seemed to sleep in the breathless heat of the -low-lying lands upon which it had been reared. Saving an occasional -flash of steel from the weapon or breastplate of some sentinel on the -battlements, there was no sign of a life which starvation must by now -have reduced to the lowest ebb. -</p> -<p> -As Bellarion rode he meditated upon the odd course of unpremeditated -turbulence which he had run since leaving the seclusion of Cigliano a -year ago. He had travelled far indeed from his original intention, and -he marvelled now at the ease with which he had adapted himself to each -new set of circumstances he met, applying in worldly practice all that -he had learnt in theory by his omnivorous studies. From a mental vigour -developed by those studies he drew an increasing consciousness of -superiority over those with whom fate associated him, a state of mind -which did not bring him to respect his fellow man. -</p> -<p> -Greed seemed to Bellarion, that morning, the dominant impulse of worldly -life. He saw it and all the stark, selfish evil of it wherever he turned -his retrospective glance. Most cruelly, perhaps, had he seen it last -night in the Countess Beatrice, who dignified it—as was -common—by the name of ambition. She would be well served, he -thought, if that ambition were gratified in such a way that she should -curse its fruit with every hour of life that might be hers thereafter. -Thus might she yet save her silly, empty soul. -</p> -<p> -He was drawn abruptly from the metaphysical to the physical by two -intrusions upon his consciousness. The first was a spent arbalest bolt, -which struck the crupper of his horse and made it bound forward, a -reminder to Bellarion that he had all but got within range of those red -walls. The second was a bright object gleaming a yard or two ahead of -him along the track he followed. -</p> -<p> -The whole of Facino's army might have passed that way, seeing in that -bright object a horseshoe and nothing more. But Bellarion's mind was of -a different order. He read quite fluently in that iron shoe that it was -cast from the hind hoof of a mule within the last twenty-four hours. -</p> -<p> -Two nights ago a thunderstorm had rolled down from the Montferrine -hills, which were now hazily visible in the distance on his right. Had -the shoe been cast before that, rust must have dimmed its polished -brightness; yet, as closer examination confirmed, no single particle of -rust had formed upon it. Bellarion asked himself a question: Since no -strangers were allowed to come or go within the lines, what man of -Facino's had during the last two days ridden to a point so barely out of -range of an arbalest bolt from the city? And why had he ridden a mule? -</p> -<p> -He had dismounted, and he now picked up the shoe to make a further -discovery. A thick leather-cased pad attached to the underside of it. -</p> -<p> -He did not mount again, but leading his horse he proceeded slowly on -foot along the track that led to Casalbagliano. -</p> -<p> -It was an hour later when the outposts challenged him on the edge of the -village. He found Stoffel sitting down to dinner when he reached the -house where the Swiss was quartered. -</p> -<p> -'You keep an indifferent watch somewhere between here and Aulara,' was -Bellarion's greeting. -</p> -<p> -'You often bewilder me,' Stoffel complained. -</p> -<p> -'Here's to enlighten you, then.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion slapped down the shoe on the table, adding precise information -as to where he had found it and his reasons for supposing it so recently -cast. -</p> -<p> -'And that's not all. For half a mile along that track there was a white -trail in the grass, which investigation proved to be wheaten flour, -dribbled from some sack that went that way perhaps last night.' -</p> -<p> -Stoffel was aghast. He had not sufficient men, he confessed, to guard -every yard of the line, and, after all, the nights could be very dark -when there was no moon. -</p> -<p> -'I'll answer for it that you shall have more men to-night,' Bellarion -promised him, and, without waiting to dine, rode back in haste to -Pavone. -</p> -<p> -He came there upon a council of war debating an assault upon Alessandria -now that starvation must have enfeebled the besieged. -</p> -<p> -In his present impatience, Facino could not even wait until his leg, -which was beginning to mend, should be well again. Therefore he was -delegating the command to Carmagnola, and considering with him, as well -as with Koenigshofen and Giasone Trotta, the measures to be taken. Monna -Beatrice was at her siesta above-stairs in the house's best room. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion's news brought them vexation and dismay. -</p> -<p> -Soon, however, Carmagnola was grandiosely waving these aside. -</p> -<p> -'It matters little now that we have decided upon assault.' -</p> -<p> -'It matters everything, I think,' said Bellarion, and so drew upon -himself the haughty glare of Facino's magnificent lieutenant. Always, it -seemed, must those two be at odds. 'Your decision rests upon the -assumption that the garrison is weakened by starvation. My discovery -alters that.' -</p> -<p> -Facino was nodding slowly, gloomily, when Carmagnola, a reckless gambler -in military matters, ready now to stake all upon the chance of -distinction which his leader's illness afforded him, broke in -assertively. -</p> -<p> -'We'll take the risk of that. You are now in haste, my lord, to finish -here, and there is danger for you in delay.' -</p> -<p> -'More danger surely in precipitancy,' said Bellarion, and so put -Carmagnola in a rage. -</p> -<p> -'God rid me of your presumption!' he cried. 'At every turn you intrude -your green opinions upon seasoned men of war.' -</p> -<p> -'He was right at Travo,' came the guttural tones of Koenigshofen, 'and -he may be right again.' -</p> -<p> -'And in any case,' added Trotta, who knew the fortifications of -Alessandria better than any of them, 'if there is any doubt about the -state of the garrison, it would be madness to attack the place. We might -pay a heavy price to resolve that doubt.' -</p> -<p> -'Yet how else are we to resolve it?' Carmagnola demanded, seeing in -delays the loss of his own opportunity. -</p> -<p> -'That,' said Bellarion quietly, 'is what you should be considering.' -</p> -<p> -'Considering?' Carmagnola would have added more, but Facino's suddenly -raised hand arrested him. -</p> -<p> -'Considering, yes,' said the condottiero. 'The situation is changed by -what Bellarion tells us, and it is for us to study it anew.' -</p> -<p> -Reluctant though he might be to put this further curb upon his -impatience, yet he recognized the necessity. -</p> -<p> -Not so, however, his lieutenant. 'But Bellarion may be mistaken. This -evidence, after all ...' -</p> -<p> -'Was hardly necessary,' Bellarion interrupted. 'If Vignate had really -been in the straits we have supposed, he must have continued, and ever -more desperately, his attempts to fight his way out. Having found means -to obtain supplies from without, he has remained inactive because he -wishes you to believe him starving so that you may attack him. When he -has damaged and weakened you by hurling back your assault, then he will -come out in force to complete your discomfiture.' -</p> -<p> -'You have it all clear!' sneered Carmagnola. 'And you see it all in the -cast shoe of a mule and a few grains of wheat.' He swung about to the -others, flinging wide his arms. 'Listen to him! Learn our trade, sirs! -Go to school to Master Bellarion.' -</p> -<p> -'Indeed, you might do worse,' cut in Facino, and so struck him into -gaping, angry amazement. 'Bellarion reasons soundly enough to put your -wits to shame. When I listen to him—God help me!—I begin to ask -myself if the gout is in my leg or my brains. Continue, boy. What else -have you to say?' -</p> -<p> -'Nothing more until we capture one of these victualling parties. That -may be possible to-night, if you double or even treble Stoffel's force.' -</p> -<p> -'Possible it may be,' said Facino. 'But how exactly do you propose that -it be done?' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion took a stick of charcoal and on the pine board drew lines to -elucidate his plan. 'Here the track runs. From this the party cannot -stray by more than a quarter-mile on either side; for here the river, -and there another watercourse, thickly fringed with young poplars, will -prevent it. I would post the men in an unbroken double line, along an -arc drawn across this quarter-mile from watercourse to watercourse. At -some point of that arc the party must strike it, as fish strike a net. -When that happens, the two ends of the arc will swing inwards until they -meet, thus completely enclosing their prey against the chance of any -single man escaping to give the alarm.' -</p> -<p> -Facino nodded, smiling through his gloom. 'Does any one suggest a better -way?' -</p> -<p> -After a pause it was Carmagnola who spoke. 'That plan should answer as -well as any other.' Though he yielded, vanity would not permit him to do -so graciously. 'If you approve it, my lord, I will see the necessary -measures taken.' -</p> -<p> -But Facino pursed his lips in doubt. 'I think,' he said after a moment's -pause, 'that Bellarion might be given charge of the affair. He has it -all so clear.' -</p> -<p> -Thus it fell out that before evening Bellarion was back again in -Stoffel's quarters. To Casalbagliano also were moved after night had -fallen two hundred Germans from Koenigshofen's command at Aulara. Not -until then did Bellarion cast that wide human arc of his athwart the -track exactly midway between Casalbagliano and Alessandria, from the -Tanaro on the one side to the lesser watercourse on the other. Himself -he took up his station in the arc's middle, on the track itself. Stoffel -was given charge of the right wing, and another Swiss named Wenzel -placed in command of the left. -</p> -<p> -The darkness deepened as the night advanced. Again a thunderstorm was -descending from the hills of Montferrat, and the clouds blotted out the -stars until the hot gloom wrapped them about like black velvet. Even so, -however, Bellarion's order was that the men should lie prone, lest their -silhouettes should be seen against the sky. -</p> -<p> -Thus in utter silence they waited through the breathless hours that were -laden by a storm which would not break. Midnight came and went and -Bellarion's hopes were beginning to sink, when at last a rhythmical -sound grew faintly audible; the soft beat of padded hooves upon the -yielding turf. Scarcely had they made out the sound than the mule train, -advancing in almost ghostly fashion, was upon them. -</p> -<p> -The leader of the victualling party, who knowing himself well within the -ordinary lines had for some time now been accounting himself secure, was -startled to find his way suddenly barred by a human wall which appeared -to rise out of the ground. He seized the bridle of his mule in a firmer -grip and swung the beast about even as he yelled an order. There was a -sudden stampede, cries and imprecations in the dark, and the train was -racing back through the night, presently to find its progress barred by -a line of pikes. This way and that the victuallers flung in their -desperate endeavours to escape. But relentlessly and in utter silence -the net closed about them. Narrower and narrower and ever denser grew -the circle that enclosed them, until they were hemmed about in no more -space than would comfortably contain them. -</p> -<p> -Then at last lights gleamed. A dozen lanterns were uncovered that -Bellarion might take stock of his capture. The train consisted of a -score of mules with bulging panniers, and half a dozen men captained by -a tall, loose-limbed fellow with a bearded, pock-marked face. Sullenly -they stood in the lantern-light, realising the futility of struggling -and already in fancy feeling the rope about their gullets. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion asked no questions. To Stoffel, who had approached him as the -ring closed, he issued his orders briefly. They were surprising, but -Stoffel never placed obedience in doubt. A hundred men under Wenzel to -remain in charge of the mules at the spot where they had been captured -until Bellarion should make known his further wishes; twenty men to -escort the muleteers, disarmed and pinioned, back to Casalbagliano; the -others to be dismissed to their usual quarters. -</p> -<p> -A half-hour later in the kitchen of the peasant's house on the outskirts -of Casalbagliano, where Stoffel had taken up his temporary residence, -Bellarion and the captured leader faced each other. -</p> -<p> -The prisoner, his wrists pinioned behind him, stood between two Swiss -pikemen, whilst Bellarion holding a candle level with his face scanned -those pallid, pock-marked features which seemed vaguely familiar. -</p> -<p> -'We've met before, I think ...' Bellarion broke off. It was the beard -that had made an obstacle for his memory. 'You are that false friar who -journeyed with me to Casale, that brigand named ... Lorenzaccio. -Lorenzaccio da Trino.' -</p> -<p> -The beady eyes blinked in terror. 'I don't deny it. But I was your -friend then, and but for that blundering peasant ...' -</p> -<p> -'Quiet!' he was curtly bidden. Bellarion set down the candle on the -table, which was of oak, rough-hewn and ponderous as a refectory board, -and himself sat down in the armchair that stood by its head. Fearfully -Lorenzaccio considered him, taking stock of the richness of his apparel -and the air of authority by which the timid convent nursling of a year -ago was now invested. His fears withheld him from any philosophical -reflections upon the mutability of human life. -</p> -<p> -Suddenly Bellarion's bold dark eyes were upon him, and the brigand -shuddered despite the stifling heat of the night. -</p> -<p> -'You know what awaits you?' -</p> -<p> -'I know the risks I ran. But ...' -</p> -<p> -'A rope, my friend. I tell you so as to dispel any fond doubt.' -</p> -<p> -The man reeled a little, his knees sagging under him. The guards -steadied him. Watching him, Bellarion seemed almost to smile. Then he -took his chin in his hand, and for a long moment there was silence save -for the prisoner's raucous, agitated breathing. At last Bellarion spoke -again, very slowly, painfully slowly to the listening man, since he -discerned his fate to be wrapped up in Bellarion's words. -</p> -<p> -'You claim that once you stood my friend. Whether you would, indeed, -have stood my friend to the end I do not know. Circumstances parted us -prematurely. But before that happened you had stolen all that I had. -Still, it is possible you would have repaid me had the chance been -yours.' -</p> -<p> -'I would! I would!' the wretched man protested. 'By the Mother of God, I -would!' -</p> -<p> -'I am so foolish as to permit myself to believe you. And you'll remember -that your life hangs upon my belief. You were the instrument chosen by -Fate to shape my course for me, and there is on my part a desire to -stand your friend ...' -</p> -<p> -'God reward you for that! God ...' -</p> -<p> -'Quiet! You interrupt me. First I shall require proof of your good -will.' -</p> -<p> -'Proof!' Lorenzaccio was confused. 'What proof can I give?' -</p> -<p> -'You can answer my questions, clearly and truthfully. That will be proof -enough. But at the first sign of prevarication, there will be worse than -death for you, as certainly as there will be death at the end. Be open -with me now, and you shall have your life and presently your freedom.' -</p> -<p> -The questions followed, and the answers came too promptly to leave -Bellarion any suspicion of invention. He tested them by cross-questions, -and was left satisfied that from fear of death and hope of life -Lorenzaccio answered truthfully throughout. For a half-hour, perhaps, -the examination continued, and left Bellarion in possession of all the -information that he needed. Lorenzaccio was in the pay of Girolamo -Vignate, Cardinal of Desana, a brother of the besieged tyrant, who -operating from Cantalupo was sending these mule-trains of victuals into -Alessandria on every night when the absence of moonlight made it -possible; the mules were left in the city to be eaten together with -their loads, and the men made their way back on foot from the city -gates; the only one ever permitted to enter was Lorenzaccio himself, who -invariably returned upon the morrow in possession of the password to -gain him admission on the next occasion. He had crossed the lines, he -confessed, more than a dozen times in the last three weeks. Further, -Bellarion elicited from him a minute description of the Cardinal of -Desana, of Giovanni Vignate of Lodi, and of the principal persons -usually found in attendance upon him, of the topography of Alessandria, -and of much else besides. Many of his answers Bellarion took down in -writing. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap14_II"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER XIV -<br /><br /> -THE MULETEER</h4> - -<p> -It wanted less than an hour to dawn when the mule-train came up to the -southern gate of Alessandria, and its single leader disturbed the -silence of the night by a shrill whistle thrice repeated. -</p> -<p> -A moment later a light showed behind the grating by the narrow postern -gate, built into the wall beside the portcullis. A voice bawled a -challenge across the gulf. -</p> -<p> -'Who comes?' -</p> -<p> -'Messenger from Messer Girolamo,' answered the muleteer. -</p> -<p> -'Give the word of the night.' -</p> -<p> -'Lodi triumphant.' -</p> -<p> -The light was moved, and presently followed a creaking of winches and a -rattle of heavy chains. A great black mass, faintly discernible against -the all-encompassing darkness, slowly descended outwards and came to -rest with a thud almost at the very feet of the muleteer. Across that -lowered drawbridge the archway of the guard-house glowed in light, and -revealed itself aswarm with men-at-arms under the jagged teeth of the -raised portcullis. -</p> -<p> -The muleteer spoke to the night. He took farewell of men who were not -with him, and called instructions after some one of whom there was no -sign, then drove his laden mules across the bridge, and himself came -last into the light between the men-at-arms drawn up there to ensure -against treachery, ready to warn those who manned the winches above in -the event of an attempt to rush the bridge. -</p> -<p> -The muleteer, a tall fellow, as tall as Lorenzaccio, but much younger, -dressed in a loose tunic of rough brown cloth with leg-clothing of the -same material cross-gartered to the knees, found himself confronted by -an officer who thrust a lantern into his face. -</p> -<p> -'You are not Lorenzaccio!' -</p> -<p> -'Devil take you,' answered the muleteer, 'you needn't burn my nose to -find that out.' -</p> -<p> -His easy impudence allayed suspicion. Besides, how was a besieged -garrison to suspect a man who brought in a train of mules all laden with -provisions? -</p> -<p> -'Who are you? What is your name?' -</p> -<p> -'I am called Beppo, which is short for Giuseppe. And to-night I am the -deputy of Lorenzaccio who has had an accident and narrowly escaped a -broken neck. No need to ask your name, my captain. Lorenzaccio warned me -I should meet here a fierce watch-dog named Cristoforo, who would want -to eat me alive when he saw me. But now that I have seen you I don't -believe him. Have you anything to drink at hand, my captain? It's a -plaguily thirsty night.' And with the back of his hand the muleteer -swept the beads of sweat from his broad, comely forehead, leaving it -clean of much of the grime that elsewhere disfigured his countenance. -</p> -<p> -'You'll take your mules to the Communal,' the captain answered him -shortly, resenting his familiarity. -</p> -<p> -Day was breaking when Messer Beppo came to the Communal Palace and drove -his mules into the courtyard, there to surrender them to those whom he -found waiting. It was a mixed group made up of Vignate's officers and -representatives of the civic government. The officers were -well-nourished and vigorous, the citizens looked feeble and emaciated, -from which the muleteer inferred that in the matter of rationing the -citizens of Alessandria were being sacrificed to the soldiery. -</p> -<p> -Messer Beppo, who for a muleteer was a singularly self-assertive fellow, -demanded to be taken at once to the Lord Giovanni Vignate. They were -short with him at first for his impudence until he brought a note almost -of menace into his demand, whereupon an officer undertook to conduct him -to the citadel. -</p> -<p> -Over a narrow drawbridge they entered the rocca, which was the heart of -that great Guelphic fortress, and from a small courtyard they ascended -by a winding staircase of stone to a stone chamber whose grey walls were -bare of arras, whose Gothic windows were unglazed, and whose vaulted -ceiling hung so low that the tall muleteer could have touched it with -his raised hand. A monkish table of solid oak, an oaken bench, and a -high-backed chair were all its furniture, and a cushion of crimson -velvet the only sybaritic touch in that chill austerity. -</p> -<p> -Leaving him there, the young officer passed through a narrow door to a -farther room. Thence came presently a swarthy man who was squat and -bowlegged with thick, pouting lips and an air of great consequence. He -was wrapped in a crimson gown that trailed along the stone floor and -attended by a black-robed monk and a tall lean man in a soldier's -leathern tunic with sword and dagger hanging from a rich belt. -</p> -<p> -The squat man's keen, haughty eyes played searchingly over the muleteer. -</p> -<p> -'I am to suppose you have a message for me,' he said, and sat down in -the only chair. The monk, who was stout and elderly, found a place on -the bench, leaning his elbows on the table. The captain stationed -himself behind Vignate, whilst the officer who had brought Messer Beppo -lingered in the background by the wall. -</p> -<p> -The tall young muleteer lounged forward, no whit abashed in the presence -of the dread Lord of Lodi. -</p> -<p> -'His excellency the Cardinal of Desana desires you to understand, my -lord, that this mule-train of victuals is the last one he will send.' -</p> -<p> -'What?' Vignate clutched the arms of his chair and half raised himself -from his seat. His countenance lost much of its chill dignity. -</p> -<p> -'It isn't that it's no longer safe; but it's no longer possible. -Lorenzaccio, who has had charge of these expeditions, is a prisoner in -the hands of Facino. He was caught yesterday morning, on his way back -from Alessandria. As likely as not he'll have been hanged by now. But -that's no matter. What is important is that they've found us out, and -the cordon is now so tightly drawn that it's madness to try to get -through.' -</p> -<p> -'Yet you,' said the tall captain, 'have got through.' -</p> -<p> -'By a stratagem that's not to be repeated. I took a chance. I stampeded -a dozen mules into Facino's lines near Aulara. At the alarm there was a -rush for the spot. It drew, as I had reckoned, the men on guard between -Aulara and Casalbagliano, leaving a gap. In the dark I drove through -that gap before it was repaired.' -</p> -<p> -'That was shrewd,' said the captain. -</p> -<p> -'It was necessary,' said Beppo shortly. 'Necessary not only to bring in -these provisions, but to warn you that there are no more to follow.' -</p> -<p> -Vignate's eyes looked out of a face that had turned grey. The man's bold -manner and crisp speech intrigued him. -</p> -<p> -'Who are you?' he asked. 'You are no muleteer.' -</p> -<p> -'Your lordship is perspicacious. After Lorenzaccio was taken, no -muleteer could have been found to run the gauntlet. I am a captain of -fortune. Beppo Farfalla, to serve your lordship. I lead a company of -three hundred lances, now at my Lord Cardinal's orders at Cantalupo. At -my Lord Cardinal's invitation I undertook this adventure, in the hope -that it may lead to employment.' -</p> -<p> -'By God, if I am to be starved I am likely to offer you employment.' -</p> -<p> -'If your lordship waits to be starved. That was not my Lord Cardinal's -view of what should happen.' -</p> -<p> -'He'll teach me my trade, will he, my priestly brother?' -</p> -<p> -Messer Beppo shrugged. 'As to that, he has some shrewd notions.' -</p> -<p> -'Notions! My Lord Cardinal?' Vignate was very savage in his chagrin. -'What are these notions?' -</p> -<p> -'One of them is that this pouring of provisions into Alessandria was as -futile as the torment of the Danaides.' -</p> -<p> -'Danaides? Who are they?' -</p> -<p> -'I hoped your lordship would know. I don't. I quote my Lord Cardinal's -words; no more.' -</p> -<p> -'It's a pagan allusion out of Appollodorus,' the monk explained. -</p> -<p> -'What my Lord Cardinal means,' said Beppo, 'is that to feed you was a -sheer waste, since as long as it continued, you sat here doing nothing.' -</p> -<p> -'Doing nothing!' Vignate was indignant. 'Let him keep to his Mass and -his breviary and what else he understands.' -</p> -<p> -'He understands more than your lordship supposes.' -</p> -<p> -'More of what?' -</p> -<p> -'Of the art of war, my lord.' -</p> -<p> -And my lord laughed unpleasantly, being joined by his captain, but not -by the monk whom it offended to see a cardinal derided. -</p> -<p> -And now Beppo went on: 'He assumes that this news will be a spur you -need.' -</p> -<p> -'Why damn his impudence and yours! I need no spur. You'll tell him from -me that I make war by my own judgment. If I have sat here inactive, it -is that I have sat here awaiting my chance.' -</p> -<p> -'And now that the threat of starvation will permit you to sit here no -longer, you will be constrained to go out and seek that chance.' -</p> -<p> -'Seek it?' Vignate was frowning darkly, his eyes aflame. He disliked -this cockerel's easy, impudent tone. Captains of fortune did not usually -permit themselves such liberties with him. 'Where shall I seek it? Tell -me that and I'll condone your insolence.' -</p> -<p> -'My Lord Cardinal thinks it might be sought in Facino's quarters at -Pavone.' -</p> -<p> -'Oh, yes; or in the Indies, or in Hell. They're as accessible. I have -made sorties from here—four of them, and all disastrous. Yet the -diasters were due to no fault of mine.' -</p> -<p> -'Is your lordship quite sure of that?' quoth Messer Beppo softly, -smiling a little. -</p> -<p> -The Lord of Lodi exploded. 'Am I sure?' he cried, his grey face turning -purple and inflating. 'Dare any man suggest that I am to blame?' -</p> -<p> -'My Lord Cardinal dares. He more than suggests it. He says so bluntly.' -</p> -<p> -'And your impudence no doubt agrees with him?' -</p> -<p> -'Upon the facts could my impudence do less?' His tone was mocking. The -three stared at him in sheer unbelief. 'Consider now, my lord: You made -your sallies by day, in full view of an enemy who could concentrate at -whatever point you attacked over ground upon which it was almost -impossible for your horse to charge effectively. My Lord Cardinal thinks -that if you had earlier done what the threat of starvation must now -compel you to do, and made a sally under cover of night, you might have -been upon the enemy lines before ever your movement could be detected -and a concentration made to hold you.' -</p> -<p> -Vignate looked at him with heavy contempt, then shrugged: 'A priest's -notion of war!' he sneered. -</p> -<p> -The tall captain took it up with Messer Beppo. Less disdainful in tone, -he no less conveyed his scorn of the Cardinal Girolamo's ideas. -</p> -<p> -'Such an action would have been well if our only aim had been to break -through and escape leaving Alessandria in Facino's hands. But so ignoble -an aim was never in my Lord Vignate's thoughts.' He leaned on the tall -back of his master's chair, and thrust out a deprecatory lip. 'Necessity -may unfortunately bring him to consider it now that ...' -</p> -<p> -Messer Beppo interrupted him with a laugh. -</p> -<p> -'The necessity is no more present now than it has ever been. Facino Cane -will lie as much at your mercy to-morrow night as he has lain on any -night in all these weeks of your inaction.' -</p> -<p> -'What do you say?' breathed Vignate. 'At our mercy?' The three of them -stared at him. -</p> -<p> -'At your mercy. A bold stroke and it is done. The line drawn out on a -periphery some eighteen miles in length is very tenuous. There are -strong posts at Marengo, Aulara, Casalbagliano, and San Michele.' -</p> -<p> -'Yes, yes. This we know.' -</p> -<p> -'Marengo and San Michele have been weakened since yesterday, to -strengthen the line from Aulara to Casalbagliano in view of the -discovery that Alessandria has been fed from there. Aulara and -Casalbagliano are the posts farthest from Pavone, which is the strongest -post of all and Facino's quarters.' -</p> -<p> -Vignate's eyes began to kindle. He was sufficiently a soldier, after -all, to perceive whither Messer Beppo was going. 'Yes, yes,' he -muttered. -</p> -<p> -'Under cover of night a strong force could creep out by the northern -gate, so as to be across the Tamaro at the outset, and going round by -the river fall upon Pavone almost before an alarm could be raised. -Before supports could be brought up you would have broken the force that -is stationed there. The capture of Facino and his chief captains, who -are with him, would be as certain as that the sun is rising now. After -that, your besiegers would be a body without a head.' -</p> -<p> -Followed a silence. Vignate licked his thick lips as he sat huddled -there considering. -</p> -<p> -'By God!' he said, and again, after further thought, 'By God!' He looked -at his tall captain. The captain tightened his lips and nodded. -</p> -<p> -'It is well conceived,' he said. -</p> -<p> -'Well conceived!' cried Beppo on that note of ready laughter. 'No better -conception is possible in your present pass. You snatch victory from -defeat.' -</p> -<p> -His confidence inspired them visibly. Then Vignate asked a question: -</p> -<p> -'What is Facino's force at Pavone? Is it known?' -</p> -<p> -'Some four or five hundred men. No more. With half that number you could -overpower them if you took them by surprise.' -</p> -<p> -'I do not run unnecessary risks. I'll take six hundred.' -</p> -<p> -'Your lordship has decided, then?' said the tall captain. -</p> -<p> -'What else, Rocco?' -</p> -<p> -Rocco fingered his bearded chin. 'It should succeed. I'd be easier if I -were sure the enveloping movement could be made without giving the -alarm.' -</p> -<p> -Unbidden the audacious Messer Beppo broke into their counsel. -</p> -<p> -'Aye, that's the difficulty. But it can be overcome. That is where I can -serve you; I and my three hundred lances. I move them round during the -day wide of the lines and bring up behind Pavone, at Pietramarazzi. At -the concerted hour I push them forward, right up against Facino's rear, -and at the moment that you attack in front I charge from behind, and the -envelopment is made.' -</p> -<p> -'But how to know each other in the dark?' said Rocco. 'Your force and -ours might come to grips, each supposing the other to be Facino's.' -</p> -<p> -'My men shall wear their shirts over their armour if yours will do the -same.' -</p> -<p> -'Lord of Heaven!' said Vignate. 'You have it all thought out.' -</p> -<p> -'That is my way. That is how I succeed.' -</p> -<p> -Vignate heaved himself up. On his broad face it was to be read that he -had made up his mind. -</p> -<p> -'Let it be to-night, then. There is no gain in delay, nor can our -stomachs brook it. You are to be depended upon, Captain Farfalla?' -</p> -<p> -'If we come to terms,' said Beppo easily. 'I'm not in the business for -the love of adventure.' -</p> -<p> -Vignate's countenance sobered from its elation. His eyes narrowed. He -became the man of affairs. 'And your terms?' quoth he. -</p> -<p> -'A year's employment for myself and my condotta at a monthly stipend of -fifteen thousand gold florins.' -</p> -<p> -'God of Heaven!' Vignate ejaculated. 'Is that all?' And he laughed -scornfully. -</p> -<p> -'It is for your lordship to refuse.' -</p> -<p> -'It is for you to be reasonable. Fifteen thou ... Besides, I don't want -your condotta for a year.' -</p> -<p> -'But I prefer the security of a year's employment. It is security for -you, too, of a sort. You'll be well served.' -</p> -<p> -'Ten thousand florins for your assistance in this job,' said Vignate -firmly. -</p> -<p> -'I'll be wishing you good morning,' said Messer Beppo as firmly. 'I know -my value.' -</p> -<p> -'You take advantage of my urgent needs,' Vignate complained. -</p> -<p> -'And you forget what you already owe me for having risked my neck in -coming here.' -</p> -<p> -After that they haggled for a full half-hour, and if guarantees of -Messer Beppo's good faith had been lacking, they had it in the tenacity -with which he clung to his demands. -</p> -<p> -At long length the Lord of Lodi yielded, but with an ill grace and with -certain mental reservations notwithstanding the bond drawn up by his -monkish secretary. With that parchment in his pocket, Messer Beppo went -gaily to breakfast with the Lord Vignate, and thereafter took his leave, -and slipped out of the city to carry to the Cardinal at Desana the news -of the decision and to prepare for his own part in it. -</p> -<p> -It was a dazzling morning, all sign of the storm having been swept from -the sky, and the air being left the cleaner for its passage. -</p> -<p> -Messer Beppo smiled as he walked, presumably because on such a morning -it was good to live. He was still smiling when towards noon of that same -day he strode unannounced into Facino's quarters at Pavone. -</p> -<p> -Facino was at dinner with his three captains, and the Countess faced her -lord at the foot of the board. He looked up as the newcomer strode to -the empty place at the table. -</p> -<p> -'You're late, Bellarion. We have been awaiting you and your report. Was -there any attempt last night to put a victualling party across the -lines?' -</p> -<p> -'There was,' said Bellarion. -</p> -<p> -'And you caught them?' -</p> -<p> -'We caught them. Yes. Nevertheless, the mule-train and the victuals won -into Alessandria.' -</p> -<p> -They looked at him in wonder. Carmagnola scowled upon him. 'How, sir? -And this in spite of your boast that you caught them?' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion fixed him with eyes that were red and rather bleary from lack -of sleep. -</p> -<p> -'In spite of it,' he agreed. 'The fact is, that mule-train was conducted -into Alessandria by myself.' And he sat down in the silence that -followed. -</p> -<p> -'Do you say that you've been into Alessandria?' -</p> -<p> -'Into the very citadel. I had breakfast with the squat Lord of Lodi.' -</p> -<p> -'Will you explain yourself?' cried Facino. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion did so. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap15_II"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER XV -<br /><br /> -THE CAMISADE</h4> - -<p> -The sequel you already guess, and its telling need not keep us long. -</p> -<p> -That night Vignate and six hundred men, wearing their shirts over their -armour, rode into as pretty an ambush about the village of Pavone as is -to be found in the history of such operations. It was a clear night, -and, although there was no moon, there was just light enough from the -starflecked sky to make it ideal, from the point of view of either -party, for the business in hand. -</p> -<p> -There was some rough fighting for perhaps a half-hour, and a good deal -of blood was shed, for Vignate's men, infuriated at finding themselves -trapped, fought viciously and invited hard knocks in return. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion in the handsome armour of Boucicault's gift, but without a -headpiece, to which as yet he had been unable to accustom himself, held -aloof from the furious scrimmage, just as he had held aloof from the -jousts in Milan. He had a horror of personal violence and manhandling, -which some contemporaries who detected it have accounted a grave flaw in -his nature. Nevertheless, one blow at least for his side was forced upon -him, and all things considered it was a singularly appropriate blow. It -was towards the end of the fight, just as the followers of Vignate began -to own defeat and throw down their weapons, that one man, all cased in -armour and with a headpiece whose peaked vizor gave him the appearance -of some monstrous bird, came charging furiously at the ring of enemies -that confined him. He was through and over them in that terrific charge, -and the way of escape was clear before him save for the aloof Bellarion, -who of his own volition would have made no move to check that impetuous -career. But the fool must needs drive straight at Bellarion through the -gloom. Bellarion pulled his horse aside, and by that swerve avoided the -couched lance which he suspected rather than saw. Then, rising in his -stirrups as that impetuous knight rushed by, he crashed the mace with -which he had armed himself upon the peaked vizor, and rolled his -assailant from the saddle. -</p> -<p> -Thereafter he behaved with knightly consideration. He got down from his -horse, and relieved the fallen warrior of his helmet, so as to give him -air, which presently revived him. By the usages of chivalry the man was -Bellarion's prisoner. -</p> -<p> -The fight was over. Already men with lanterns were going over the meadow -which had served for battle-ground; and into the village of Pavone, to -the great alarm of its rustic inhabitants, the disarmed survivors of -Vignate's force, amounting still to close upon five hundred, were being -closely herded by Facino's men. Through this dense press Bellarion -conducted his prisoner, in the charge of two Burgundians. -</p> -<p> -In the main room of Facino's quarters the two first confronted each -other in the light. Bellarion laughed as he looked into that flat, -swarthy countenance with the pouting lips that were frothing now with -rage. -</p> -<p> -'You filthy, venal hound! You've sold yourself to the highest bidder! -Had I known it was you, you might have slit my throat or ever I would -have surrendered.' -</p> -<p> -Facino, in the chair to which his swathed leg confined him, and -Carmagnola, who had come but a moment ago to report the engagement at an -end, stared now at Bellarion's raging prisoner, in whom they recognised -Vignate. And meanwhile Bellarion was answering him. -</p> -<p> -'I was never for sale, my lord. You are not discerning. I was my Lord -Facino's man when I sought you this morning in Alessandria.' -</p> -<p> -Vignate looked at him, and incredulity was tempering the hate of his -glance. -</p> -<p> -'It was a trick!' He could hardly believe that a man should have dared -so much. 'You are not Farfalla, captain of fortune?' -</p> -<p> -'My name is Bellarion.' -</p> -<p> -'It's the name of a trickster, then, a cheat, a foul, treacherous hind, -who imposed upon me with lies.' He looked past his captor at Facino, who -was smiling. 'Is this how you fight, Facino?' -</p> -<p> -'Merciful God!' Facino laughed. 'Are you to prate of chivalry and -knight-errantry, you faithless brigand! Count it against him, Bellarion, -when you fix his ransom. He is your prisoner. If he were mine I'd not -enlarge him under fifty thousand ducats. His people of Lodi should find -the money, and so learn what it means to harbour such a tyrant.' -</p> -<p> -Savage eyes glowered at Facino. Pouting lips were twisted in vicious -hate. 'Pray God, Facino, that you never fall prisoner of mine.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion tapped his shoulder, and he tapped hard. 'I do not like you, -Messer de Vignate. You're a fool, and the world is troubled already by -too many of your kind. So little am I venal that from a sense of duty to -mankind I might send your head to the Duke of Milan you betrayed, and so -forgo the hundred thousand ducats ransom you're to pay to me.' -</p> -<p> -Vignate's mouth fell open. -</p> -<p> -'Say nothing more,' Bellarion admonished him. 'What you've said so far -has already cost you fifty thousand ducats. Insolence is a costly luxury -in a prisoner.' He turned to the attendant Burgundians. 'Take him -above-stairs, strip off his armour, and bind him securely.' -</p> -<p> -'Why, you inhuman barbarian! I've surrendered to you. You have my word.' -</p> -<p> -'Your word!' Bellarion loosed a laugh that was like a blow in the face. -'Gian Galeazzo Visconti had your word, yet before he was cold you were -in arms against his son. I'll trust my bonds rather than your word, my -lord.' He waved them out, and as he turned, Facino and Carmagnola saw -that he was quivering. -</p> -<p> -'Trickster and betrayer, eh! And to be called so by such a Judas!' -</p> -<p> -Thus he showed what had stirred him. Yet not quite all. They were not to -guess that he could have borne the epithets with equanimity if they had -not reminded him of other lips that had uttered them. -</p> -<p> -'Solace yourself with the ransom, boy. And you're not modest, faith! A -hundred thousand! Well, well!' Facino laughed. 'You were in luck to take -Vignate prisoner.' -</p> -<p> -'In luck, indeed,' Carmagnola curtly agreed. Then turned to face Facino. -'And so, my lord, the affair is happily concluded.' -</p> -<p> -'Concluded?' There was derision in Bellarion's interjection. 'Why, sir, -the affair has not yet begun. This was no more than the prelude.' -</p> -<p> -'Prelude to what?' -</p> -<p> -'To the capture of Alessandria. It's to be taken before daylight.' -</p> -<p> -They stared at him, and Facino was frowning almost in displeasure. -</p> -<p> -'You said nothing of this.' -</p> -<p> -'I thought it would be clear. Why do I lure Vignate to make a -<i>camisade</i> from Alessandria with six hundred men wearing their -shirts over their arms, to be met here by another three hundred under -Captain Farfalla similarly bedecked? Nine hundred horsemen, or -thereabouts, with their shirts over their arms will ride back in triumph -to Alessandria in the dim light of dawn. And the jubilant garrison will -lift up its gates to receive them.' -</p> -<p> -'You intended that?' said Facino, when at last he found his voice. -</p> -<p> -'What else? Is it not a logical consummation? You should break your -morning fast in Alessandria, my lord.' -</p> -<p> -Facino, the great captain, looked almost with reverence at this -fledgling in the art of war. -</p> -<p> -'By God, boy! You should go far. At Travo you showed your natural talent -for this game of arms. But this ...' -</p> -<p> -'Shall we come to details?' said Bellarion to remind them that time was -precious. -</p> -<p> -Little, however, remained to be concerted. By Bellarion's contriving the -entire condotta was waiting under arms. Facino offered Bellarion command -of what he called the white-shirts, to be supported by Carmagnola with -the main battle. Bellarion, however, thought that Carmagnola should lead -the white-shirts. -</p> -<p> -'Theirs will be the honour of the affair,' Facino reminded him. 'I offer -it to you as your due.' -</p> -<p> -'Let Messer Carmagnola have it. What fighting there may be will fall to -the lot of the pretended returning camisaders when the garrison -discovers the imposture. That is a business which Messer Carmagnola -understands better than I do.' -</p> -<p> -'You are generous, sir,' said Carmagnola. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion looked sharply to see if he were sneering. But for once -Carmagnola was obviously sincere. -</p> -<p> -As Bellarion had planned, so the thing fell out. -</p> -<p> -In the grey light of breaking day, creeping pallid and colourless as the -moonstone over the meadows about Alessandria, the anxious watchers from -the walls beheld a host approaching, whose white-shirts announced them -for Vignate and his raiders. Down went drawbridge, up portcullis, to -admit them. Over the timbers of the bridge they thundered, under the -deep archway of the gatehouse they streamed, and the waiting soldiery of -Vignate deafened the ears of the townsfolk with their cheers, which -abruptly turned to cries of rage and fear. For the camisaders were -amongst them, beating them down and back, breaking a way into the -gatehouse, assuming possession of the machinery that controlled -drawbridge and portcullis, and spreading themselves out into the square -within to hold the approaches of the gate. Their true quality was at -last revealed, and in the tall armoured man on the tall horse who led -and directed them Francesco Busone of Carmagnola was recognised by many. -</p> -<p> -And now as the daylight grew, another host advanced upon the city, the -main battle of Facino's army. This was followed by yet a third, a force -detailed to escort the disarmed camisaders of Vignate who were being -brought back prisoners. -</p> -<p> -When two hours later Facino broke his fast in the citadel, as Bellarion -had promised him that he should, with his officers about him, and his -Countess, her beauty all aglow, at the table's foot, there was already -peace and order in the captured city. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap16_II"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER XVI -<br /><br /> -SEVERANCE</h4> - -<p> -The Knight Bellarion rode alone in the hot glow of an August afternoon -through the moist and fertile meadowland between Alessandria and San -Michele. He was dejected by the sterility of worldly achievement and -mourned the futility of all worldly endeavour. In endeavour, itself, as -he had to admit from his own experience, there was a certain dynamic -entertainment, affording an illusion of useful purpose. With achievement -the illusion was dispelled. The purpose grasped was so much water in the -hands. Man's greatest accomplishment was to produce change. Restlessness -abode in him none the less because no one state could be shown to be -better than another. The only good in life was study, because study was -an endeavour that never reached fulfilment. It busied a man to the end -of his days, and it aimed at the only true reality in all this world of -shams and deceits. -</p> -<p> -Messer Bellarion conceived that in abandoning the road to Pavia and -Master Chrysolaras he had missed his way in life. Nay, further, his -first false step had been taken when driven by that heresy of his, -rooted in ignorance and ridiculous, he had quitted the monastery at -Cigliano. In conventual endeavour, after all, there was a definite -purpose. There, mortal existence was regarded as no more than the -antechamber to real life which lay in the hereafter; a brief novitiate -wherein man might prepare his spirit for Eternity. By contrast with that -definite, peaceful purpose, this world of blindly striving, struggling, -ever-restless men, who addressed themselves to their span of mortal -existence as if it were to endure forever, was no better, no more -purposeful, and of no more merit in its ultimate achievement, than a -clot of writhing earthworms. -</p> -<p> -Thus Messer Bellarion, riding by sparkling waters in the dappled shade -of poplars standing stark against the polished azure of the summer sky, -and the very beauty with which God had dressed the world made man's -defilement of it the more execrable in his eyes. -</p> -<p> -Emerging from the screen of poplars, he emerged also from his gloomy -reflections, dragged thence by the sight of a lady on a white horse that -was gaily caparisoned in blue and silver. She was accompanied by a -falconer and attended by two grooms whose liveries in the same colours -announced them of the household of Messer Facino Cane, Count of -Biandrate, and now by right of conquest and self-election Tyrant of -Alessandria. For in accepting his tacit dismissal from the Duke of -Milan, Facino had thrown off his allegiance to all Visconti and played -now, at last, for his own strong hand. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion would have turned another way. It had become a habit with him -whenever he espied the Countess. But the lady hailed him, consigning the -hooded falcon on her wrist into the keeping of her falconer, who with -the grooms fell back to a respectful distance as Bellarion, reluctantly -obedient, approached. -</p> -<p> -'If you're for home, Bellarion, we'll ride together.' -</p> -<p> -Uncomfortable, he murmured a gratified assent that sounded as false as -he intended that it should. -</p> -<p> -She looked at him sideways as they moved on together. She spoke of -hawking. Here was fine open country for the sport. A flight could be -followed for miles in any direction, moving almost as directly along the -ground as the birds moved in the air above. Yet sport that day had been -provokingly sluggish, and quarries had been sought in vain. It would be -the heat, she opined, which kept the birds under cover. -</p> -<p> -In silence he jogged beside her, letting her prate, until at last she -too fell silent. Then, after a spell, with a furtive sidelong glance -from under her long lashes, she asked him a question in a small voice. -</p> -<p> -'You are angry with me, Bellarion?' -</p> -<p> -He was startled, but recovered instantly. 'That were a presumption, -madonna.' -</p> -<p> -'In you it might be a condescension. You are so aloof these days. You -have avoided me as persistently as I have sought you.' -</p> -<p> -'Could I suppose you sought me?' -</p> -<p> -'You might have seen.' -</p> -<p> -'If I had not deemed it wiser not to look.' -</p> -<p> -She sighed a little. 'You make it plain that it is not in you to -forgive.' -</p> -<p> -'That does not describe me. I bear no malice to any living man or -woman.' -</p> -<p> -'But what perfection! I wonder you could bear to stray from Heaven!' It -was no more than an impulsive display of her claws. Instantly she -withdrew them. 'No, no. Dear God, I do not mean to mock at you. But -you're so cold, so placid! That is how you come to be the great soldier -men are calling you. But it will not make men love you, Bellarion.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion smiled. 'I don't remember to have sought men's love.' -</p> -<p> -'Nor women's, eh?' -</p> -<p> -'The fathers taught me to avoid it.' -</p> -<p> -'The fathers! The fathers!' Her mockery was afoot again. 'In God's name, -why ever did you leave the fathers?' -</p> -<p> -'It was what I was asking myself when I came upon you.' -</p> -<p> -'And you found no answer when you saw me?' -</p> -<p> -'None, madonna.' -</p> -<p> -Her face whitened a little, and her breath came shorter. -</p> -<p> -'You're blunt!' she said, and uttered a little laugh that was hard and -unpleasant. -</p> -<p> -He explained himself. 'You are my Lord Facino's wife.' -</p> -<p> -'Ah!' Her expression changed again. 'I knew we should have that. But if -I were not? If I were not?' She faced him boldly, in a sudden eagerness -that he deemed piteous. -</p> -<p> -The solemnity of his countenance increased. He looked straight before -him. 'In all this idle world there is naught so idle as to consider what -we might be if it were different.' -</p> -<p> -She had no answer for a while, and they rode a little way side by side -in silence, her attendants following out of earshot. -</p> -<p> -'You'll forgive, I think, when I explain,' said she at last. -</p> -<p> -'Explain?' he asked her, mystified. -</p> -<p> -'That night in Milan ... the last time we spoke together. You thought I -used you cruelly.' -</p> -<p> -'No more cruelly than I deserve to be used in a world where it is -expected of a man that he shall be more sensible to beauty than to -honour.' -</p> -<p> -'I knew it was honour made you harsh,' she said, and reached forth a -hand to touch his own where it lay upon the pommel. 'I understood. I -understand you better than you think, Bellarion. Could I have been angry -with you then?' -</p> -<p> -'You seemed angry.' -</p> -<p> -'Seemed. That is the word. It was necessary to seem. You did not know -that Facino was behind the arras that masked the little door.' -</p> -<p> -'I hoped that you did not.' -</p> -<p> -It was like a blow between the eyes. She snatched away her hand. Brows -met over staring, glaring eyes and her nether lip was caught in sharp -white teeth. -</p> -<p> -'You knew!' she gasped at last, and her voice held all the emotions. -</p> -<p> -'The arras quivered, and there was no air. That drew my eyes, and I saw -the point of my lord's shoe protruding from the curtain's hem.' -</p> -<p> -Her face held more wickedness in that moment than he would have thought -possible to find wed with so much perfection. -</p> -<p> -'When ... When did you see? Was it before you spoke to me as you did?' -</p> -<p> -'Your thoughts do me poor credit. If I had seen in time should I have -been quite so plain and uncompromising in my words? I did not see until -after I had spoken.' -</p> -<p> -The explanation nothing mollified her. 'Almost I hoped you'd say that -the words you used, you used because you know of Facino's presence.' -</p> -<p> -After that, he thought, no tortuous vagaries of the human mind should -ever again astonish him. -</p> -<p> -'You hoped I would confess myself a bloodless coward who uses a woman as -a buckler against a husband's righteous wrath!' -</p> -<p> -As she made no answer, he continued: 'Each of us has been defrauded in -his hopes. Mine were that you did not suspect Facino's presence, and -that you spoke from a heart at last aroused to loyalty.' -</p> -<p> -It took her a moment fully to understand him. Then her face flamed -scarlet, and unshed tears of humiliation and anger blurred her vision. -But her voice, though it quivered a little, was derisive. -</p> -<p> -'You spare me nothing,' she said. 'You strip me naked in your brutal -scorn, and then fling mud upon me. I have been your friend, -Bellarion—aye, and more. But that is over now.' -</p> -<p> -'Madonna, if I have offended ...' -</p> -<p> -'Let be.' She became imperious. 'Listen now. You must not continue with -my Lord Facino because where he goes thither must I go, too.' -</p> -<p> -'You ask me to take my dismissal from his service?' He was incredulous. -</p> -<p> -'I beg it ... a favour, Bellarion. It is yourself have brought things to -the pass where I may not meet you without humiliation. And continue -daily to meet you I will not.' Her ready wicked temper flared up. -'You'll go, or else I swear ...' -</p> -<p> -'Swear nothing,' he thundered, very suddenly aroused. 'Threaten, and you -bind me to Facino hand and foot.' -</p> -<p> -Instantly she was all soft and pleading. A fool she was. -Nevertheless—indeed, perhaps because of it—she had a ready -grasp of the weapons of her sex. -</p> -<p> -'Oh, Bellarion, I do not threaten. I implore ... I ...' -</p> -<p> -'Silence were your best agent now.' He was curt. 'I know your wishes, -and ...' He broke off with a rough wave of his hand. 'Where should I -go?' he asked, but the question was addressed to Fate and not to her. -She answered it, however. -</p> -<p> -'Do you ask that, Bellarion? Why, in this past month since Alessandria -fell your fame has gone out over the face of Italy. The credit for two -such great victories as those of Travo and Alessandria is all your own, -and the means by which you won them are on every man's tongue.' -</p> -<p> -'Aye! Facino is generous!' he said, and his tone was bitter. -</p> -<p> -'There's not a prince in Italy would not be glad to employ you.' -</p> -<p> -'In fact the world is full of places for those we would dismiss.' -</p> -<p> -After that they rode in silence until they were under the walls of the -city. -</p> -<p> -'You'll go, Bellarion?' -</p> -<p> -'I am considering.' He was very grave, swayed between anger and a -curious pity, and weighing other things besides. -</p> -<p> -In the courtyard of the citadel he held her stirrup for her. As she came -to earth, and turned, standing very close to him, she put her little -hand on his. -</p> -<p> -'You'll go, Bellarion, I know. For you are generous. This, then, is -farewell. Be you fortunate!' -</p> -<p> -He bowed until his lips touched her hand in formal homage. -</p> -<p> -As he came upright again, he saw the square-shouldered figure of Facino -in the Gothic doorway, and Facino's watching eyes, he thought, were -narrow. That little thing was the last item in the scales of his -decision. -</p> -<p> -Facino came to greet them. His manner was pleasant and hearty. He -desired to know how the hawking had gone, how many pheasants his lady -had brought back for supper, how far afield she had ridden, where -Bellarion had joined her, and other similar facts of amiable commonplace -inquiry. But Bellarion watching him perceived that his excessively ready -smile never reached his eyes. -</p> -<p> -Throughout supper, which he took as usual in the company of his captains -and his lady, Facino was silent and brooding, nor even showed great -interest when Carmagnola told of the arrival of a large body of -Ghibelline refugees from Milan to swell the forces which Facino was -assembling against the coming struggle, whether defensive or offensive, -with Malatesta and Duke Gian Maria. -</p> -<p> -Soon after the Countess had withdrawn, Facino gave his captains leave. -Bellarion, however, still kept his place. His resolve was taken. That -which the Countess claimed of him as a sacrifice to her lacerated -vanity, he found his sense of duty to Facino claiming also, and his -prudent, calculating wits confirming. -</p> -<p> -Facino raised heavy eyes from the contemplation of the board and leaned -back in his chair. He looked old that night in the flickering -candle-light. His first words betrayed the subject upon which his -thoughts had been lingering. -</p> -<p> -'Ha, boy! I am glad to see the good relations between Bice and yourself. -I had fancied a coolness between you lately.' -</p> -<p> -'I am the Countess's servant, as I am yours, my lord.' -</p> -<p> -'Aye, aye,' Facino grunted, and poured himself wine from a jug of beaten -gold. 'She likes your company. She grudged you once, when I sent you on -a mission to Genoa. I'm brought to think of it because I am about to -repeat the offence.' -</p> -<p> -'You wish me to go to Boucicault for men?' Bellarion showed his -surprise. -</p> -<p> -Facino looked at him quizzically. 'Why not? Do you think he will not -come?' -</p> -<p> -'Oh, he'll come. He'll march on Milan with you to smash Malatesta, and -afterwards he'll try to smash you in your turn, that he may remain sole -master in the name of the King of France.' -</p> -<p> -'You include politics in your studies?' -</p> -<p> -'I use my wits.' -</p> -<p> -'To some purpose, boy. To some purpose. But I never mentioned -Boucicault, nor thought of him. The men I need must be procured -elsewhere. Where would you think of seeking them?' -</p> -<p> -And then Bellarion understood. Facino wanted him away, and desired him -to understand it, which was why he had dragged in that allusion to the -Countess. Facino was made reticent by his deep love for his unworthy -lady; his need for her remained fiercely strong, however she might be -disposed to stray. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion used his wits, you see, as he had lately boasted. -</p> -<p> -Why had Facino spied that night in Milan? Surely because in the -relations between Bellarion and the Countess he had already perceived -reason for uneasiness. That uneasiness his spying had temporarily -allayed. Yet not so completely but that he continued watchful, and now, -at the first sign of a renewal of that association, it took alarm. -Though Facino might still be sure that he had nothing to avenge, he -could be far from sure that he had nothing to avert. -</p> -<p> -A great sorrow welled up from Bellarion's heart. All that he now was, -all that he possessed, his very life itself, he owed to Facino's -boundless generosity. And in return he was become a thorn in Facino's -flesh. -</p> -<p> -'Why, sir,' he said slowly, smiling a little as if in deprecation, 'this -matter of levies has been lately in my thoughts. To be frank, I have -been thinking of raising a condotta of my own.' -</p> -<p> -Facino sat bolt upright in his surprise. Clearly his first emotion was -of displeasure. -</p> -<p> -'Oho! You grow proud?' -</p> -<p> -'I have my ambitions.' -</p> -<p> -'How long have you nursed this one? It's the first I hear of it.' -</p> -<p> -Blandly Bellarion looked across at him, and bland was his tone. -</p> -<p> -'I matured the conceit as I rode abroad to-day.' -</p> -<p> -'As you rode abroad?' -</p> -<p> -Facino's eyes were intently upon his face. It conserved its blandness. -The condottiero's glance flickered and fell away. They understood each -other. -</p> -<p> -'I wish you the luck that you deserve, Bellarion. You've done well by -me. You've done very well. None knows it better than I. And it's right -you should go, since you've the sense to see that it's best for ... -you.' -</p> -<p> -The colour had faded from Bellarion's face, his eyes were very bright. -He swallowed before he could trust himself to speak, to play the comedy -out. -</p> -<p> -'You take it very well, sir—this desertion of you. But I'm your man -for all my ambition.' -</p> -<p> -Thereafter they discussed his future. He was for the Cantons, he -announced, to raise a body of Swiss, the finest infantry in the world, -and Bellarion meant to depend on infantry. As a parting favour he begged -for the loan of Stoffel, who would be useful to him as a sponsor to his -compatriots of Uri and the Vierwaldstaetter. Facino promised him not -only Stoffel himself, but fifty men of the Swiss cavalry Stoffel had -latterly recruited, to be a nucleus of the condotta Bellarion went to -raise. -</p> -<p> -They pledged each other in a final cup, and parted, Facino to seek his -bed, Bellarion in quest of Stoffel. -</p> -<p> -Stoffel, having heard the proposal, at once engaged himself, protesting -that the higher pay Bellarion offered him had no part in the decision. -</p> -<p> -'And as for men, there's not one of those who fought with you on the -bluff above the Trebbia but will want to come.' -</p> -<p> -They numbered sixty when they were called up, and with Facino's consent -they all went with Bellarion on the morrow. For, having decided upon -departure, there was no reason to delay it. -</p> -<p> -Betimes in the morning Bellarion had business with a banker of -Alessandria named Torella with whom Vignate's ransom was deposited in -return for certain bills of exchange negotiable in Berne. Thereafter he -went to take his leave of Facino, and to lay before him a suggestion, -which was the fruit of long thinking in the stillness of a wakeful -night. He was guilty, he knew, of a duplicity, of serving ends very -different, indeed, from those that he pretended. But his conscience was -at ease, because, although he might be using Facino as a tool for the -performance of his ultimate secret aims, yet the immediate aims of -Facino himself would certainly be advanced. -</p> -<p> -'There is a service I can perhaps do you as I go,' said Bellarion at -parting. 'You are levying men, my lord, which is a heavy drain upon your -own resources.' -</p> -<p> -'Prisoners like Vignate don't fall into the hands of each of us.' -</p> -<p> -'Have you thought, instead, of seeking alliances?' -</p> -<p> -Facino was disposed to be hilarious. 'With whom? With the dogs that are -baying and snarling round Milan? With Estorre and Gian Carlo and the -like?' -</p> -<p> -'There's Theodore of Montferrat,' said Bellarion quietly. -</p> -<p> -'So there is, the crafty fox, and the price he'll want for his -alliance.' -</p> -<p> -'You might find it convenient to pay it. Like myself, the Marquis -Theodore has ambitions. He covets Vercelli and the lordship of Genoa. -Vercelli would be in the day's work in a war on Milan.' -</p> -<p> -'So it would. We might begin hostilities by occupying it. But Genoa, -now ...' -</p> -<p> -'Genoa can wait until your own work is done. On those terms Montferrat -comes in with you.' -</p> -<p> -'Ha! God's life! You're omniscient.' -</p> -<p> -'Not quite. But I know a great deal. I know, for instance, that Theodore -went to Milan at Gabriello's invitation to offer alliance to Gian Maria -on those terms. He left in dudgeon, affronted by Gian Maria's refusal. -He's as vindictive as he's ambitious. Your proposal now might tickle -both emotions.' -</p> -<p> -This was sound sense, and Facino admitted it emphatically. -</p> -<p> -'Shall I go by way of Montferrat and negotiate the alliance for you with -Messer Theodore?' -</p> -<p> -'You'll leave me in your debt if you succeed.' -</p> -<p> -'That is what Theodore will say when I propose it to him.' -</p> -<p> -'You're sanguine.' -</p> -<p> -'I'm certain. So certain that I'll impose a condition. Messer Theodore -shall send the Marquis Gian Giacomo to you to be your esquire. You'll -need an esquire in my place.' -</p> -<p> -'And what the devil am I to do with Gian Giacomo?' -</p> -<p> -'Make a man of him, and hold him as a guarantee. Theodore grows old and -accidents often happen on a campaign. If he should die before it's -convenient, you'll have the sovereign of Montferrat beside you to -continue the alliance.' -</p> -<p> -'By God! You look ahead!' -</p> -<p> -'In the hope of seeing something some day. I've said that the Regent -Theodore has his ambitions. Ambitious men are reluctant to relinquish -power, and in a year's time the Marquis Gian Giacomo will be of age to -succeed. Have a care of him when he's with you.' -</p> -<p> -Facino looked at him and blew out his cheeks. 'You're bewildering -sometimes. You seem to say a hundred things at once. And your thoughts -aren't always nice.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion sighed. 'My thoughts are coloured by the things they dwell -on.' -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap17_II"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER XVII -<br /><br /> -THE RETURN</h4> - -<p> -The Knight Bellarion contrasted the manner of his departure from Casale -a year ago with the manner of his return, and took satisfaction in it. -There was more worldliness in his heart than he suspected. -</p> -<p> -He rode, superbly mounted on a tall grey horse, with Stoffel at his side -a little way ahead of the troop of sixty mounted arbalesters, all well -equipped and trim in vizorless steel caps and metal-studded leather -hacketons, their leader rearing a lance from which fluttered a bannerol -bearing Bellarion's device, on a field azure the dog's head argent. The -rear was brought up by a string of pack-mules, laden with tents and -equipment of the company. -</p> -<p> -Clearly this tall young knight was a person of consequence, and as a -person of consequence he found himself entreated in Casale. -</p> -<p> -The Regent's reception of him admirably blended the condescension proper -to his own rank with the deference due to Bellarion's. The Regent, -you'll remember, had been in Milan at the time of Bellarion's leap to -fame and honour, and that was all that he chose now to remember of -Facino Cane's adoptive son. He had heard also—as all Italy had -heard by now—of how Alessandria had been taken and his present -deference was a reflection of true respect for one who displayed such -shining abilities of military leadership. By no word or sign did he -betray recollection of the young man's activities in Casale a year ago. -A tactful gentleman this Regent of Montferrat. His court, he professed, -was honoured by this visit of the illustrious son of an illustrious -sire, and he hoped that in the peace of Montferrat, Messer Bellarion -would rest him awhile from his late glorious labours. -</p> -<p> -'You may yet count me a disturber of that peace, Lord Marquis. I come on -an embassy from my Lord of Biandrate.' -</p> -<p> -'Its purport?' -</p> -<p> -'The aims wherein your highness failed in Milan might find support in -Alessandria.' -</p> -<p> -Theodore took a deep breath. -</p> -<p> -'Well, well,' said he. 'We will talk of it when you have dined. Our -first anxiety is for your comfort.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion understood that he had said enough. What Theodore really -needed was time in which to weigh the proposal he perceived before they -came to a discussion of it. -</p> -<p> -They dined below in a small room contiguous to the great hall, a cool, -pleasant room whose doors stood wide to those spacious sunlit gardens -into which Bellarion had fled when the Podestà's men pursued him. They -were an intimate family party: the Princess Valeria, the Marquis Gian -Giacomo, his tutor Corsario, and his gentleman, the shifty-eyed young -Lord of Fenestrella. The year that was sped had brought little change to -the court of Casale; yet some little change a shrewd eye might observe. -The Marquis, now in his seventeenth year, had aged materially. He stood -some inches taller, he was thinner and of a leaden pallor. His manner -was restless, his eyes dull, his mouth sullen. The Regent might be -proceeding slowly, but he proceeded surely. No need for the risk of -violent measures against one who was obligingly killing himself by the -profligacy so liberally supplied him. -</p> -<p> -The Princess, too, was slighter and paler than when last Bellarion had -seen her. A greater wistfulness haunted her dark eyes; a listlessness -born of dejection hung about her. -</p> -<p> -But when Bellarion, conducted by her uncle, had stood unexpectedly -before her, straight as a lance, tall and assured, the pallor had been -swept from her face, the languor from her expression. Her lips had -tightened and her eyes had blazed upon this liar and murderer to whose -treachery she assigned the ruin of her hopes. -</p> -<p> -The Regent, observing these signs, made haste to present the visitor to -the young Marquis in terms that should ensure a preservation of the -peace. -</p> -<p> -'Giacomo, this is the Knight Bellarion Cane. He comes to us as the envoy -of his illustrious father, the Count of Biandrate, for whose sake as for -his own you will do him honour.' -</p> -<p> -The youth looked at him languidly. 'Give you welcome, sir,' he said -without enthusiasm, and wearily proffered his princely hand, which -Bellarion dutifully kissed. -</p> -<p> -The Princess made him a stiff, unsmiling inclination of her head in -acknowledgment of his low bow. Fenestrella was jocosely familiar, -Corsario absurdly dignified. -</p> -<p> -It was an uncomfortable meal. Fenestrella, having recognized Bellarion -for the prisoner in the Podestà's court a year ago, was beginning to -recall the incident when the Regent headed him off, and swung the talk -to the famous seizure of Alessandria, rehearsing the details of the -affair: how Bellarion disguised as a muleteer had entered the besieged -city, and how pretending himself next a captain of fortune he had -proposed the <i>camisade</i> in which subsequently he had trapped Vignate; -and how thereafter with his own men in the shirts of the camisaders he -had surprised the city. -</p> -<p> -'Trick upon trick,' said the Princess in a colourless voice, speaking -now for the first time. -</p> -<p> -'Just that,' Bellarion agreed shamelessly. -</p> -<p> -'Surely something more,' Theodore protested. 'Never was stratagem more -boldly conceived or more neatly executed. A great feat of leadership, -Ser Bellarion, deserving the renown it has procured you.' -</p> -<p> -'And a hundred thousand florins,' said Valeria. -</p> -<p> -So, they knew that, too, reflected Bellarion. -</p> -<p> -Fenestrella laughed. 'You set a monstrous value on the Lord Vignate.' -</p> -<p> -'I hoped his people of Lodi, who had to find the gold, would afterwards -ask themselves if it was worth while to retain a tyrant quite so -costly.' -</p> -<p> -'Sir, I have done you wrong,' the Princess confessed. 'I judged you -swayed by the thought of enriching yourself.' -</p> -<p> -He affected to miss the sarcasm. 'Your highness would have done me wrong -if you had left that out.' -</p> -<p> -Valeria alone did not smile at that. Her brown eyes were hard as they -held his gaze. -</p> -<p> -'It was Messer Carmagnola, they tell me, who led the charge into the -city. That is a gallant knight, ever to be found where knocks are to be -taken.' -</p> -<p> -'True,' said Bellarion. 'It's all he's fit for. An ox of a man.' -</p> -<p> -'That is your view of a straightforward, honest fighter?' -</p> -<p> -'Perhaps I am prejudiced in favour of the weapon of intelligence.' -</p> -<p> -She leaned forward a little to dispute with him. All were interested and -only Theodore uneasy. -</p> -<p> -'It is surely necessary even in the lists. I remember at a tournament in -Milan the valour and address of this knight Carmagnola. He bore off the -palm that day. But, then, you were not present. You had a fever, or was -it an ague?' -</p> -<p> -'Most likely an ague; I always shiver at the thought of a personal -encounter.' -</p> -<p> -The Regent led the laugh, and now even Valeria smiled, but it was a -smile of purest scorn. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion remained solemn. 'Why do you laugh, sirs? It is no more than -true.' -</p> -<p> -'True!' cried Fenestrella. 'And it was you unhorsed Vignate!' -</p> -<p> -'That was an accident. I slid aside when he rode at me. He overshot his -aim and I took advantage of the moment.' -</p> -<p> -Valeria's eyes were still upon him, almost incredulous in their glance. -Oh, he was utterly without shame. He retorted upon her with the truth; -but it was by making the truth sound like a mockery that he defeated -her. She looked away at last, nor spoke to him again. -</p> -<p> -Delivered from her attacks, Bellarion addressed himself to the young -Marquis, and by way of polite inquiry into his studies asked him how he -liked Virgil. -</p> -<p> -'Virgilio?' quoth the boy, mildly surprised. 'You know Virgilio, do you? -Bah, he's a thieving rogue, but very good with dogs.' -</p> -<p> -'I mean the poet, my lord.' -</p> -<p> -'Poet? What poet? Poets are a weariness. Valeria reads me their writings -sometimes. God knows why, for there's no sense in them.' -</p> -<p> -'If you read them to yourself, you might ...' -</p> -<p> -'Read them to myself? Read? God's bones, sir! You take me for a clerk! -Read!' He laughed the notion contemptuously away, and buried his face in -his cup. -</p> -<p> -'His highness is a backward scholar,' Corsario deprecated. -</p> -<p> -'We do not thrust learning upon him,' Theodore explained. 'He is not -very strong.' -</p> -<p> -Valeria's lip quivered. Bellarion perceived that it was with difficulty -she kept silent. -</p> -<p> -'Why, you know best, sir,' he lightly said, and changed his subject. -</p> -<p> -Thereafter the talk was all of trivial things until the meal was done. -After the Princess had withdrawn and the young Marquis and Fenestrella -had begged leave to go, the Regent dismissed Messer Corsario and the -servants, but retained his guest to the last. -</p> -<p> -'I will not keep you now, sir. You'll need to rest. But before we -separate you may think it well to tell me briefly what my Lord Facino -proposes. Thus I may consider it until we come to talk of it more fully -this evening.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion, who knew, perhaps as few men knew, the depth of Theodore's -craft, foresaw a very pretty duel in which he would have need of all his -wits. -</p> -<p> -'Briefly, then,' said he, 'your highness desires the recovery of -Vercelli and similarly the restoration of the lordship of Genoa. Alone -you are not in strength to gratify your aims. My Lord Facino, on the -other hand, is avowedly in arms against the Duke of Milan. He is in -sufficient strength to stand successfully on the defensive. But his -desire is to take the offensive, drive out Malatesta, and bring the Duke -to terms. An alliance with your highness would enable each of you to -achieve his ends.' -</p> -<p> -The Regent took a turn in the room before he spoke. - -He came at last, to stand before Bellarion, his back to the Gothic -doorway and the sunlight beyond, graceful and tall and so athletically -spare that a boy of twenty might have envied him his figure. He looked -at Bellarion with those pale, close-set eyes which to the discerning -belied the studiedly benign expression of his handsome, shaven face. -</p> -<p> -'What guarantees does the Lord of Biandrate offer?' he asked quietly. -</p> -<p> -'Guarantees?' echoed Bellarion, and nothing in his blank face betrayed -how his heart had leapt at the Regent's utterance of that word. -</p> -<p> -'Guarantees that when I shall have done my part, he will do his.' -</p> -<p> -Calm, passionless, and indifferent he might show himself. But if -underneath that well-managed mask he did not seethe with eagerness, -spurred on by ambition and vindictiveness, then Bellarion knew nothing. -If he paused to ask for guarantees, it was because he so ardently -desired the thing Facino offered that he would take no risk of being -cheated. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion smiled ingenuously. 'My Lord Facino proposes to open the -campaign by placing you in possession of Vercelli. That is better than a -guarantee. It is payment in advance.' -</p> -<p> -A momentary gleam in the pale eyes was instantly suppressed. -</p> -<p> -'Part payment,' said the Regent's emotionless voice. 'And then?' -</p> -<p> -'Of necessity, to consolidate your possession, the next movement must be -against Milan itself.' -</p> -<p> -Slowly the Regent inclined his head. -</p> -<p> -'I will consider,' he said gravely. 'I will summon the Council to -deliberate with me and we will weigh the means at our command. -Meanwhile, whatever my ultimate decision, I am honoured by the -proposal.' -</p> -<p> -Thus calm, correct, displaying no eagerness, leaving it almost in doubt -whether the consideration was due to inclination or merely to deference -for Facino, the Regent quitted the matter. 'You will need rest, sir.' He -summoned his chamberlain to whom he entrusted his guest, assured the -latter that all within the Palace and City of Casale were at his orders, -and ceremoniously took his leave. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap18_II"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER XVIII -<br /><br /> -THE HOSTAGE</h4> - -<p> -The golden light of eventide lay on the terraced palace gardens, on the -white temple mirrored in the placid lake, on granite balustrades where -roses trailed, on tall, trim boxwood hedges that were centuries old, and -on smooth emerald lawns where peacocks sauntered. -</p> -<p> -Thither the Princess Valeria, trimly sheathed in russet, and her ladies -Isotta and Dionara, in formally stiff brocades, had come to take the -air, and thither came sauntering also the Knight Bellarion and the -pedant Corsario. -</p> -<p> -The knight was discoursing Lucretius to the pedant, and the pedant did -not trouble to conceal his boredom. He had no great love of letters, but -displayed a considerable knowledge of Apuleius and Petronius, and -smirkingly quoted lewdnesses now from the 'Golden Ass,' now from -'Trimalchio's Supper.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion forsook Lucretius and became a sympathetic listener, -displaying a flattering wonder at Messer Corsario's learning. Out of the -corner of his eye he watched the upper terrace where the Princess -lingered. -</p> -<p> -Presently he ventured a contradiction. Messer Corsario was at fault, he -swore. The line he quoted was not from Petronius, but from Horace. -Corsario insisted, the dispute grew heated. -</p> -<p> -'But the lines are verses,' said Bellarion, 'and "Trimalchio's Supper" -is in prose.' -</p> -<p> -'True. But verses occur in it.' Corsario kept his patience with -difficulty in the face of such irritating mistaken assurance. -</p> -<p> -When Bellarion laughed his assertion to scorn, he went off in a pet to -fetch the book, so that he might finally silence and shame this ignorant -disputant. Bellarion took his way to the terrace above, where the -Princess Valeria sauntered. -</p> -<p> -She observed his approach with stern eyes; and when he bowed before her -she addressed him in terms that made of the difference in their ranks a -gulf between them. -</p> -<p> -'I do not think, sir, that I sent for you.' -</p> -<p> -He preserved an unruffled calm, but his answering assertion sounded -foolish in his own ears. -</p> -<p> -'Madonna, I would give much to persuade you that I am your servant.' -</p> -<p> -'Your methods do not change, sir. But why should they? Are they not the -methods that have brought you fame?' -</p> -<p> -'Will you give your ladies leave a moment, while I speak two words with -you. Messer Corsario will not be absent long. I have sent him off on a -fool's errand, and it may be difficult to make another opportunity.' -</p> -<p> -For a long moment she hesitated. Then, swayed, perhaps, by her very -mistrust of him, she waved her ladies back with her fan. -</p> -<p> -'Not in that direction, highness,' he said quickly, 'but in that. So -they will be in line with us, and any one looking from the Palace will -not perceive the distance separating us, but imagine us together.' -</p> -<p> -She smiled a little in disdainful amusement. But she gave the order. -</p> -<p> -'How well equipped you are!' she said. -</p> -<p> -'I came into the world, madonna, with nothing but my wits. I must do -what I can with them.' Abruptly, for there was no time to lose, he -plunged into the business. 'I desire to give you a word of warning in -season, lest, with your great talent for misunderstanding, you should be -made uneasy by what I hope to do. If I succeed in that which brings me, -your brother will be sent hence to-morrow, or the next day, to my Lord -Facino's care at Alessandria.' -</p> -<p> -That turned her white. 'O God! What now? What villainy is meant?' -</p> -<p> -'To remove him from the Regent's reach, to place him somewhere where he -will be safe until the time comes for his own succession. To this end am -I labouring.' -</p> -<p> -'You are labouring? You! It is a trap! A trap to ... to ...' She was -starkly terrified. -</p> -<p> -'If it were that, why should I tell you? Your foreknowledge will no more -assist than it can hinder. I do this in your service. I am here to -propose an alliance between my Lord Facino and Montferrat. This alliance -was suggested by me for two purposes: to serve Facino's immediate needs, -and to ensure the Regent's ultimate ruin. It may be delayed; but it will -come, just as surely as death comes to each of us. To make your brother -safe while we wait, I shall impose it as a condition of the alliance -that the Marquis Gian Giacomo goes to Facino as a hostage.' -</p> -<p> -'Ah! Now I begin to understand.' -</p> -<p> -'By which you mean that you begin to misunderstand. I have persuaded -Facino that the Marquis will serve as a hostage for the Regent's good -behaviour, and the Regent shall be made to believe that this is our sole -purpose. But the real aim is as I have told you: to make your brother -safe. By Facino he will be trained in all those things which it imports -that a prince should learn; he will be made to forsake the habits and -pursuits by which he is now being disgraced and ruined. Lady, for your -peace of mind believe me!' He was emphatic, earnest, solemn. -</p> -<p> -'Believe you?' she cried out in mental torture. 'I have cause to do -that, have I not? My past dealings with you—indeed, all that is known -of you, bear witness to your truth and candour. By falsehood, trickery, -and treachery you have raised yourself to where you stand to-day. And -you ask me to believe you ... Why ... why should you do this? Why? That -is the only test. What profit do you look to make?' -</p> -<p> -He looked at her with pain and misery in his dark eyes. -</p> -<p> -'If in this thing there were any design to hurt your brother, I ask you -again, madonna, why should I stand here to tell you what I am about to -attempt?' -</p> -<p> -'Why do you tell me at all?' -</p> -<p> -'To relieve you from anxiety if I succeed in removing him. To let you -know if I should fail of the attempt, of the earnest desire, to serve -you, although you make it very hard.' -</p> -<p> -Messer Corsario was hurrying towards them, a volume in his hands. -</p> -<p> -She stood there, silent, stricken, not knowing what to believe, desiring -hungrily to trust Bellarion, yet restrained by every known action in his -past. -</p> -<p> -'If I live, madonna,' he said quietly, lowering his voice to a murmur, -'you shall yet ask me to forgive your cruel unbelief.' -</p> -<p> -Then he turned to meet Corsario's chuckling triumph, and to submit that -the pedant should convict him of error. -</p> -<p> -'Not so great a scholar as he believes himself, this Messer Bellarion,' -Corsario noisily informed the Princess. And then to Bellarion, himself: -'You'll dispute with soldiers, sir, in future, who lack the learning and -the means to put you right. Here are the lines; here in "Trimalchio's -Supper," as I said. See for yourself.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion saw. He simulated confusion. 'My apologies, Messer Corsario, -for having given you the trouble to fetch the book. You win the trick.' -</p> -<p> -It was an inauspicious word. To Valeria it was clear that the trick had -lain in temporarily removing Messer Corsario's inconvenient presence, -and that trick Bellarion had won. -</p> -<p> -She moved away now with her ladies who had drawn close upon Corsario's -approach, and Bellarion was left to endure the pedant's ineffable -company until supper-time. -</p> -<p> -Later that night Theodore carried him off to his own closet to discuss -in private and in greater detail the terms of the proposed alliance. -</p> -<p> -His highness had considered and had taken his resolve now that he was -prepared to enter into a treaty. He looked for a clear expression of -satisfaction. But Bellarion disappointed him. -</p> -<p> -'Your highness speaks, of course, with the full concurrence of your -Council?' -</p> -<p> -'My Council?' The Regent frowned over the question. -</p> -<p> -'Where the issues are so grave, my Lord Facino will require to be sure -that all the terms of the treaty are approved by your Council, so that -there may be no going back.' -</p> -<p> -'In that case, sir,' he was answered a little frostily, 'you had better -attend in person before the Council to-morrow, and satisfy yourself.' -</p> -<p> -That was precisely what Bellarion desired, and having won the point, -whose importance the shrewd Theodore was far from suspecting, Bellarion -had no more to say on the subject that evening. -</p> -<p> -In the morning he attended before the Council of Five, the Reggimento, -as it was called, of Montferrat. At the head of the council-table the -Marquis Theodore was enthroned in a chair of State flanked by a -secretary on either hand. Below these sat the councillors, three on one -side and two on the other, all of them important nobles of Montferrat, -and one of them, a white-bearded man of venerable aspect, the head of -that great house of Carreto, which once had disputed with the Paleologi -the sovereignty of the State. -</p> -<p> -When the purpose for which Bellarion came had been formally restated, -there was a brief announcement of the resources at Montferrat's disposal -and a demand that the occupation of Vercelli should be the first step of -the alliance. -</p> -<p> -When at last Bellarion was categorically informed that Montferrat was -prepared to throw her resources into an alliance which they thanked the -Count of Biandrate for proposing, Bellarion rose to felicitate the -members of the Council upon their decision in terms calculated to fan -their smouldering ardour into a roaring blaze. The restoration to -Montferrat of Vercelli, the subsequent conquest of Genoa were not, -indeed, to be the end in view, but merely a beginning. The two provinces -of High and Low Montferrat into which the State at present was divided -should be united by the conquest of the territory now lying between. -Thus fortified, there would be nothing to prevent Montferrat from -pushing her frontiers northward to the Alps and southward to the sea. -Then, indeed, might she at last resuscitate and realise her old -ambitions. Established not merely as the equal but as the superior of -neighbouring Savoy, with Milan crumbling into ruins on her eastward -frontiers, it was for Montferrat to assume the lordship of Northern -Italy. -</p> -<p> -It went to their heads, and when Bellarion resumed his seat it was they -who now pressed the alliance. No longer asking him what means Facino -brought to it, they boasted and exaggerated the importance of those -which they could offer. -</p> -<p> -Thus the treaty came there and then to be drawn up, article by article. -The secretaries' pens spluttered and scratched over their parchments, -and throughout it seemed to the Regent and his gleeful councillors that -they were getting the better of the bargain. -</p> -<p> -But at the end, when all was done, and the documents complete, Messer -Bellarion had a word to say which was as cold water on the white heat to -which he had wrought their enthusiasm. -</p> -<p> -'There remains only the question of a guarantee from you to my Lord -Facino.' -</p> -<p> -'Guarantee!' They echoed the word in a tone which clearly said they did -not relish it. The Regent went further. -</p> -<p> -'Guarantee of what, sir?' -</p> -<p> -'That Montferrat will fulfil her part of the undertaking.' -</p> -<p> -'My God, sir! Do you imply a doubt of our honour?' -</p> -<p> -'It is no question of honour, highness; but of a bargain whose terms are -clearly to be set forth to avoid subsequent disputes on either side. -Does the word "guarantee" offend your highness? Surely not. For it was -your highness who first used that word between us.' -</p> -<p> -The councillors looked at the Regent. The Regent remembered, and was -uncomfortable. -</p> -<p> -'Yesterday your highness asked me what guarantees my Lord Facino would -give that he would fulfil his part. I did not cry out in wounded honour, -but at once conceded that the immediate occupation of Vercelli should be -your guarantee. Why, then, sirs, should it give rise to heat in you if -on my lord's behalf I ask a return in kind, something tangible to back -the assurance that when Vercelli is occupied you will march with my Lord -Facino against Milan as he may deem best?' -</p> -<p> -'But unless we do that,' said the Regent impatiently, 'there can follow -no conquest of Genoa for us.' -</p> -<p> -'If there did not, you would still be in possession of Vercelli and that -is a great deal. Counsels of supineness might desire you to rest content -with that.' -</p> -<p> -'Should we heed them, do you suppose?' said the Marquis of Carreto. -</p> -<p> -'I do not. Nor will my lord. But suppositions cannot be enough for him.' -</p> -<p> -This interruption where all had flowed so smoothly was clearly fretting -them. Another interposed: 'Would it not be well, highness, to hear what -guarantees my Lord of Biandrate will require?' -</p> -<p> -And Theodore assenting, Bellarion spoke to anxious ears. -</p> -<p> -'It is in the nature of a hostage, and one that will cover various -eventualities. If, for instance, the Marquis Gian Giacomo should come to -the throne before these enterprises are concluded, it is conceivable -that he might decline to be bound by your undertakings. If there were -no other reasons—and they will be plain enough to your -excellencies—that one alone would justify my lord in asking, as he -does, that the person of the Marquis of Montferrat be delivered into his -care as a hostage for the fulfilment of this treaty.' -</p> -<p> -Theodore, betrayed into a violent start, sat now pale and thoughtful, -commanding his countenance by an effort. Another in his place would have -raged and stormed and said upon impulse things from which he might not -afterwards retreat. But Theodore Paleologo was no creature of impulse. -He weighed and weighed again this thing, and allowed his councillors to -babble, listening the while. -</p> -<p> -They were hostile, of course, to the proposal. It had no precedent, they -said. Whereupon Bellarion smothered them in precedents culled from the -history of the last thousand years. Retreating from that assertion, -then, they became defiant, and assured him that precedent or no -precedent they would never lend themselves to any such course. -</p> -<p> -The Regent still said nothing, and whilst vaguely suspicious he wondered -whether the emphatic refusal of the councillors was based upon some -suspicion of himself. Had they, by any chance, despite his caution, been -harbouring mistrust of his relations with his nephew, and did they think -that this proposal of Facino's was some part of his own scheming, -covering some design nefarious to the boy? -</p> -<p> -One of them turned to him now: 'Your highness says no word to this.' And -the others with one voice demanded his own pronouncement. He stirred. -His face was grave. -</p> -<p> -'I am as stricken as are you. My opinion, sirs, you have already -expressed for me.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion, smiling a little, as one who is entirely mystified, now -answered them. -</p> -<p> -'Sirs, suffer me to say that your heat fills me with wonder. My Lord -Facino had expected of you that the proposal would be welcome.' -</p> -<p> -'Welcome?' cried Carreto. -</p> -<p> -'To view life in a foreign court and camp is acknowledged to be of all -steps the most important in the education of a future prince. This is -now offered to the Lord Gian Giacomo in such a way that two objects -would simultaneously be served.' -</p> -<p> -The simple statement, so simply uttered, gave pause to their opposition. -</p> -<p> -'But if harm should befall him while in Facino's hands?' cried one. -</p> -<p> -'Can you suppose, sirs, that my Lord Facino, himself, would dread the -consequences of such a disaster less than you? Can you suppose that any -measure would be neglected that could make for the safety and well-being -of the Marquis?' -</p> -<p> -He thought they wavered a little, reassured by his words. -</p> -<p> -'However, sirs, since you feel so strongly,' he continued, 'my Lord -Facino would be very far from wishing me to insist.' One of them drew a -breath of relief. The others, if he could judge their countenances, -moved in apprehension. The Regent remained inscrutable. 'It remains, -sirs,' Bellarion ended, 'for you to propose an alternative guarantee.' -</p> -<p> -'Time will be lost in submitting it to my Lord Facino,' Carreto -deplored, and the others by their nods, and one or two by words, showed -the returning eagerness to seal this treaty which meant so much to -Montferrat. -</p> -<p> -'Oh, no,' Bellarion reassured them. 'I am empowered to determine. We -have no time to lose. If this treaty is not concluded by to-morrow, my -orders are to assume that no alliance is possible and continue my -journey to the Cantons to levy there the troops we need.' -</p> -<p> -They looked at one another blankly, and at last the Regent asked a -question. -</p> -<p> -'Did the Count of Biandrate, himself, suggest no alternative against our -refusing him this particular guarantee?' -</p> -<p> -'It did not occur to him that you would refuse. And, frankly, sirs, in -refusing that which himself he has suggested, it would be courteous to -supply your reasons, lest he regard it as a reflection upon himself.' -</p> -<p> -'The reason, sir, you have already been afforded,' Theodore answered. -'We are reluctant to expose our future sovereign to the perils of a -campaign.' -</p> -<p> -'That assumes perils which could not exist for him. But I am perhaps -presuming. I accept your reason, highness. It is idle to debate further -upon a matter which is decided.' -</p> -<p> -'Quite idle,' Theodore agreed with him. 'That guarantee we cannot give.' -</p> -<p> -'And yet ...' began the Marquis of Carreto. -</p> -<p> -The Regent interrupted him, for once he was without suavity. -</p> -<p> -'There is "no and yet" to that,' he snapped. -</p> -<p> -Again the councillors looked at one another. They were growing uneasy. -The immediate benefits, and the future glory of Montferrat which had -been painted for them, were beginning to dissolve under their eyes like -a mirage. -</p> -<p> -In the awkward pause that followed, Bellarion guessed their minds. He -rose. -</p> -<p> -'In this matter of determining the guarantee, you will prefer, no doubt, -to deliberate without me.' He bowed in leave-taking. Then paused. -</p> -<p> -'It would be a sad thing, indeed, if a treaty so mutually desirable and -so rich in promise to Montferrat should fail for no good reason.' He -bowed again. 'To command, sirs.' -</p> -<p> -One of the secretaries came to hold the door for him, and he passed out. -An echo of the Babel that was loosed in that room on his departure -reached him before he had gone a dozen paces. He smiled quietly as he -sought his own apartments. He warmly approved himself. It had been -shrewd of him to keep back all hint of the hostage until he stood before -the Council. If he had breathed a suggestion of it in his preliminary -talks with the Regent, he would have been dismissed at once. Now, -however, Messer Theodore was committed to a battle in which his own -conscience would fight against him, weakening him by fear of discovery -of his true aims. -</p> -<p> -'The wicked flee when no man pursueth,' said Bellarion to himself. 'And -you'll never stand to fight this out, my wicked one.' -</p> -<p> -An hour and more went by before he was summoned again, to hear the -decision of the Council. That decision is best given in Bellarion's own -words as contained in the letter preserved for us in the Vatican Library -which he wrote that same night to Facino Cane, one of the very few -writings of his which are known to survive. It is couched in the pure -and austere Lingua Tosca which Dante sanctioned, and it may be Englished -as follows: -</p> - -<blockquote><p class="nind"> -MY DEAR LORD: These will reach you by the hand of Wenzel who goes hence -to Alessandria to-morrow together with ten of my Swiss to serve as -escort for the young Prince of Montferrat. To render this escort worthy -of his rank, it is supplemented by ten Montferrine lances sent by his -highness the Marquis Theodore. Wenzel also bears the treaty with -Montferrat, into which I have entered in your name. Its terms are as we -concerted. It was not without a deal of cajolery and strategy and only -by setting the Regent at odds with his Council that I was able to obtain -as a hostage the person of the Marquis Gian Giacomo. The Regent, had the -choice been given him, would rather, I think, have sent you his right -hand. But he was constrained by the Council who see and rightly only -good to the State in this alliance with your excellent lordship. -</p> -<p> -He has insisted, however, that the boy be accompanied by his tutor -Corsario, a scoundrel who has schooled him in naught but lewdness, and -his gentleman Fenestrella, who, though young, is an even greater -preceptor in those same Stygian arts. Since it is proper that a prince -on his travels should be attended by tutor and companion, there was no -good objection that I could make to this. But I beg you, my dear lord, -to regard these two as the agents of the Marquis Theodore, to watch them -closely, and to deal with them drastically should you discover or -suspect even that they practise anything against the young Marquis. It -would be a good service to the boy, and acceptable, no doubt, in the -sight of God, if you were to wring the necks of these two scoundrels out -of hand. But difficulties with the Regent of Montferrat would follow. -</p> -<p> -As for the Prince himself, your lordship will find him soft in body, and -empty in mind, or at least empty of all but viciousness. If despite your -many occupations and preoccupations your lordship could trouble yourself -to mend the lad's ways, or to entrust him to those who will undertake -the mending of them and at the same time watch over him vigilantly, you -would perform a deed for which God could not fail to reward your -lordship. -</p> -<p> -I need not remind you, my dear lord, that the safety of a hostage is a -very sacred matter, nor should I presume so to remind you but for my -reasons for believing, as your lordship already knows, that this young -Prince may be beset by perils from the very quarters which ordinarily -should be farthest from suspicion. In addition to these twain, the -Marquis is attended by a physician and two body-servants. Of these I -know nothing, wherefore they should be observed as closely as the -others. -</p> -<p> -The responsibility under which you lie towards the State of Montferrat -will be your justification for placing attendants of your own choosing -to act jointly with these. The physician should be permitted to give the -boy no physic of which he does not previously partake. In this way, and -if you do not warn him of it beforehand, you may speedily and -effectively be rid of him. -</p> -<p> -I am grieved that you should be plagued with this matter at such a -season. But I hope that you will not count the price too dear for the -alliance of Montferrat, which puts into the field at once close upon six -thousand well-equipped men, between horse and foot. You will now be in -sufficient strength to deal at your pleasure with that base Duke and his -Guelphic Riminese brigands. -</p> -<p> -Send me your commands by Wenzel, who is to rejoin me at Lucerne. I shall -set out in the morning as soon as the Marquis Gian Giacomo has left -Casale for Alessandria. Your lordship shall have news of me soon again. -</p> -<p> -Humbly I kiss the hands of my lady your Countess, and for you, my dear -lord, that God may bless and prosper you is the fervent prayer of this -your son and servant -</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 60%;">BELLARION</p></blockquote> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="BOOK_III">BOOK III</a></h4> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap01_III"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER I -<br /><br /> -THE LORD BELLARION</h4> - -<p> -On a day of September of the year of Our Lord 1409, a dust-laden -horseman clattered into the courtyard of a palace near the Bridge of the -Trinity in Florence, and announced himself a courier with letters for -the noble Lord Bellarion. -</p> -<p> -He was consigned by a man-at-arms to an usher, by the usher to a -chamberlain, and by the chamberlain to a slim young secretary. From this -you will gather that access to the Lord Bellarion was no longer a -rough-and-ready business; and, from this again, that he had travelled -far since detaching himself from the Lord Facino Cane a year ago. -</p> -<p> -At the head of the condotta which he had raised, he had fought in the -course of that year a half-score of engagements, now in this service, -now in that, and in all but one he had won easy triumphs. Even his -single failure—which was at Verruno in the pay of the Estes of -Ferrara—was such as to enhance his reputation. Forced by overwhelming -numbers to admit defeat, yet by sheer skill he had baffled the great -Pandolfo's attempt to surround him, and had brought off his condotta -with such little loss that Pandolfo's victory was a barren one. -</p> -<p> -His condotta, now known as the 'Company of the White Dog,' from the -device he had adopted, had grown to the number of twelve hundred men, -with a heavy preponderance of infantry, his handling of which was giving -the other great captains of Italy food for thought. In fame he was the -rival of Piccinino, almost the rival of Sforza himself, under whose -banner he had served in the war against his old opponent Buonterzo. And -Fra Serafino da Imola tells us unequivocally in his chronicle that the -ambush in which Buonterzo ended his turbulent life in March of that year -was of Bellarion's planning. Since then he had continued in the service -of the Florentine Republic at a monthly stipend which had gradually been -raised with the growth of his condotta to twenty thousand gold florins. -</p> -<p> -Like all famous men, he was not without detractors. He was charged with -a cold ruthlessness, which brought, it was claimed, an added horror into -warfare, shocking adversaries, as it had shocked Buonterzo on the -Trebbia, into ordering that no quarter should be given. So opposed, -indeed, was this ruthlessness to the accepted canons of Italian warfare, -that it was said Bellarion could enlist only Swiss mercenaries who -notoriously were not queasy in these matters. The probable truth, -however, is that he employed only Swiss because they were the best -infantry in the world, and further so as to achieve in his following a -solidarity and cohesion not to be found in other companies, made up of a -medley of nationalities. -</p> -<p> -Lastly he was found lacking in those spectacular qualities of -leadership, in that personal knightly prowess by which such men as -Carmagnola took the eye. Never once had he led a charge, stimulating his -followers by his own heroical example; never had he taken part in an -escalade, or even been seen at work in a mêlée. At Subriso, where he -had routed the revolted Pisans, it was said that he had never left the -neighbourhood of his tent and never mounted his horse until the -engagement was all but over. -</p> -<p> -Hence, whilst his extraordinary strategic talents were duly respected, -it began to be put about that he was lacking in personal courage. -</p> -<p> -Careless of criticism, he had pursued the course he prescribed himself, -gathering laurels as he went. On those laurels he was momentarily -resting in the City of the Lilies when that courier rode into the -courtyard of his palace with letters from the Count of Biandrate. -</p> -<p> -The Lord Bellarion, as men now called this leader grown out of the -erstwhile nameless waif, in a pleated full-sleeved tunic of purple satin -gripped about his loins by a golden girdle and with a massive chain of -gold about his neck, stood in a window embrasure to decipher the crabbed -untidy characters, indited from Alessandria on the feast of Saint -Anthony. -</p> -<p> -'My dear son,' Facino wrote, 'I need you. So come to me at once with -every man that you can bring. The Duke has called in the French. -Boucicault is in Milan with six thousand men, and has been appointed -ducal governor. Unless I strike quickly before I am myself stricken, -Milan will be made a fief of France and the purblind Duke a vassal of -the French king. It is the Duke's subjects themselves who summon me. The -gout, from which I have been free for months, is troubling me again -infernally. It always seizes me just when I most need my strength. Send -me word by the bearer of these that you follow at speed.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion lowered the letter and gazed out across the spacious sunlit -courtyard. There was a ghost of a smile on his bronzed face, which had -gained in strength and virility during the year that was sped. He was -faintly, disdainfully amused at the plight into which Gian Maria's evil -blundering must have placed him before he could take the desperate step -of calling in the French. -</p> -<p> -The Malatesta domination had not been long-lived. Their Guelphic grip -had been ruthlessly crushing the city, where every office, even that of -Podestà, was given into the hands of Guelphs. And that same grip had -been crushing the Duke himself, who discovered belatedly that, in -throwing off the yoke of Facino for that of the Malatesta, he had -exchanged King Log for King Stork. Then, in his shifty, vacillating way, -he sent ambassadors to beg Facino to return. But the ambassadors fell -into the hands of the Malatesta spies, and the Duke was constrained to -shut himself up in the fortress of Porta Giovia to evade their fury. -Whereupon the Malatesta had drawn off to Brescia, which they seized, -Pandolfo loudly boasting that he would not rest until he was Duke of -Milan, so that Gian Maria Visconti should pay the price of breaking -faith with him. -</p> -<p> -Terror now drove the Duke to lengths of viciousness and inhumanity -unprecedented even in his own vile career. -</p> -<p> -Issuing from the Castle of Porta Giovia to return to his palace so soon -as the immediate menace was removed, he found himself beset by crowds of -his unfortunate people, distracted by the general paralysis of industry -and menaced by famine. Piteously they clamoured about him. -</p> -<p> -'Peace, Lord Duke! Peace! Give us Facino for our governor, and give us -peace! Peace, Lord Duke! Peace!' -</p> -<p> -His fair face grimly set, his bulging eyes glaring venomously, he had -ridden ahead with his escort, closing his ears to their cries, and more -than one unfortunate was trampled under the horses' hooves as they -passed on. But the cries continuing, that evil boy suddenly reined in -his bravely caparisoned charger. -</p> -<p> -'You want peace, you dogs? You'll deafen me with hellcat cries of peace! -What peace do you give me, you filthy rabble? But you shall have peace! -Oho! You shall have it.' He stood in his stirrups, and swung round to -his captain. 'Ho, there, you!' His face was inflamed with fury, a wicked -mockery, and evil mirth hung about his swollen purple lips. So terrible, -indeed, was his aspect that della Torre, who rode beside him, ventured -to set upon his arm a restraining hand. But the Duke flung the hand off, -snarling like a dog at his elderly mentor. He backed his horse until he -was thigh to thigh with his captain. -</p> -<p> -'Give them what they ask for,' he commanded. 'Clear me a way through -this dungheap! Use your lances. Give them the peace they want.' -</p> -<p> -A great cry arose from those who stood nearest, held there by the press -behind. -</p> -<p> -'Lord Duke! Lord Duke!' they wailed. -</p> -<p> -And he laughed at them, laughed aloud in maniacal mockery, in maniacal -anticipation of the gratification of his unutterable blood-lust. -</p> -<p> -'On! On!' he commanded. 'They are impatient for peace!' -</p> -<p> -But the captain of his guard, a gentleman of family, Bertino Mantegazza, -sat his horse appalled, and issued no such order as he was bidden. -</p> -<p> -'Lord Duke ...' he began, but got no further, for the Duke, catching the -appealing note in his voice, seeing the horror in his eyes, suddenly -crashed his iron glove into the young man's face. 'God's blood! Will you -stay to argue when I command?' -</p> -<p> -Mantegazza reeled under that cruel blow, and with blood suffusing his -broken face would have fallen but that one of his men caught and -supported him in the saddle. -</p> -<p> -The Duke laughed to see what he had done, and took command himself. -'Into them! Charge!' he commanded in a shout on which his voice shrilled -up and cracked. And the Bavarian mercenaries who composed the guard, to -whom the Milanese were of no account and all civilians contemptible, -lowered their lances and charged as they were bidden. -</p> -<p> -Two hundred of those poor wretches found in death the peace for which -they clamoured. The others fled in panic, and the Duke rode on to the -Broletto through streets which terror had emptied. -</p> -<p> -That night he issued an edict forbidding under pain of death the -utterance of the word 'Peace' in his City of Milan. Even from the Mass -must that accursed word be expunged. -</p> -<p> -If they had not also clamoured for Facino, it is probable that to Facino -fresh ambassadors would have been sent to invite him to return. But the -Duke would have men know that he was Duke, that he was not to be coerced -by the wishes of his subjects, and so, out of perversity so blind that -it took no account of the pit he might be digging for himself, the Duke -invited Boucicault to Milan. -</p> -<p> -When Boucicault made haste to answer, then the appeal to Facino which -should have gone from the Duke went, instead, from the Duke's despairing -subjects. Hence Facino's present summons to Bellarion. -</p> -<p> -There was no hesitation in Bellarion's mind and fortunately no obstacle -in his present employment. His agreement with the Florentine Republic -had been determined in the last few days. Its renewal was at present -under consideration. -</p> -<p> -He went at once to take his leave of the Signory, and, four days ahead -of his army, he was in Alessandria being affectionately embraced by -Facino. -</p> -<p> -He arrived at the very moment at which, in council with his captains and -his ally the Marquis Theodore, who had come over from Vercelli, Facino -was finally determining the course of action. -</p> -<p> -'I planned in the sure belief that you would come, bringing at least a -thousand men.' -</p> -<p> -'I bring twelve hundred, all of them well seasoned.' -</p> -<p> -'Good lad, good lad!' Facino patted his shoulder. 'Come you in and let -them hear it from you.' -</p> -<p> -Leaning heavily upon Bellarion's arm, for the gout was troubling him, he -led his adoptive son up that winding stone staircase which Bellarion so -well remembered ascending on that morning when, as a muleteer, he went -to fool Vignate. -</p> -<p> -'So Master Theodore is here?' said Bellarion. -</p> -<p> -'And glad to come. He's been restive in Vercelli, constantly plaguing me -to place him in possession of Genoa. But I've held him off. I do not -trust Master Theodore sufficiently to do all my part before he has done -any of his. A sly fox that and an unscrupulous!' -</p> -<p> -'And the young Marquis?' Bellarion enquired. -</p> -<p> -Facino laughed. 'You will not recognise him, he has grown so demure and -staid. He thinks of entering holy orders. He'll yet come to be a man.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion stared. 'That he was well your letters told me. But this ... -How did you accomplish it?' -</p> -<p> -'By driving out his tutor and the others who came with him. A foul -crew!' He paused on the stairs. 'I took their measure at a glance, and I -had your hint. When one night Fenestrella and the tutor made the boy -drunk and themselves drunk with him, I sent them back to Theodore with a -letter in which I invited him to deal with them as their abuse of trust -deserved. I dismissed at the same time the physician and the -body-servants, and I informed Theodore that I would place about the -Marquis in future none but persons whom I could trust. Perforce he must -write to thank me. What else could he do? You laugh! Faith, it's -laughable enough! I laughed, too, which didn't prevent me from being -watchful.' -</p> -<p> -They resumed the ascent, and Bellarion expressed the hope that the Lady -Beatrice was well. Common courtesy demanded that he should conquer his -reluctance to name her to Facino. He was answered that she was at -Casale, Facino having removed her thither lest Alessandria should come -to be besieged. -</p> -<p> -Thus they came to the chamber where the council sat. -</p> -<p> -It was the same stone chamber with its vaulted ceiling and Gothic -windows open to the sky in which Vignate had given audience to -Bellarion. But it was no longer as bare as when the austere Tyrant of -Lodi had inhabited it. The walls were hung with arras, and rich -furnishings had been introduced by the more sybaritic Facino. -</p> -<p> -About the long oaken table sat five men, four of whom now rose. The one -who remained seated, as if in assertion of his rank, was the Regent of -Montferrat. To the newcomer's bow he returned a short nod. -</p> -<p> -'Ah! The Lord Bellarion!' His tone was languid, and Facino fancied that -he sneered. Wherefore he made haste to snap: 'And he brings twelve -hundred men to the enterprise, my lord.' -</p> -<p> -'That should ensure him a welcome,' the Regent admitted, but without -cordiality. He seemed, Bellarion observed, out of humour and -disgruntled, shorn of his habitual suavity. -</p> -<p> -The others came forward to greet Bellarion. First the magnificent -Carmagnola, taking the eye as ever by the splendour of his raiment, the -dignity of his carriage, and the poise of his handsome fair head. He was -more cordial than Bellarion had yet known him. But there was something -of patronage, of tutorial commendation in his congratulatory allusions -to Bellarion's achievements in the field. -</p> -<p> -'He may yet be as great a soldier as yourself, Francesco,' Facino -growled, as he sagged into the chair at the table's head to ease his -leg. -</p> -<p> -Missing the irony, Carmagnola bowed. 'You'll make me vain, my lord.' -</p> -<p> -'My God!' said Facino. -</p> -<p> -Came the brawny, bearded, red-faced Koenigshofen, grinning honest -welcome and taking Bellarion's hand in a grip that almost hurt. Then -followed the swarthy, mercurial little Piedmontese captain, Giasone -Trotta, and lastly there was a slight, graceful, sober, self-contained -boy in whom Bellarion might have failed to recognise the Gian Giacomo -Paleologo of a year ago but for the increased likeness he bore to the -Princess Valeria. So strong was that likeness grown that Bellarion was -conscious of a thrill as he met the solemn, searching gaze of those dark -and rather wistful eyes. -</p> -<p> -Place at the table was found for Bellarion, and he was informed of the -situation and of the resolve which had been all but reached. With his -own twelve hundred, and with three thousand men that Montferrat would -send after leaving a sufficient force to garrison Vercelli, Facino could -put eight thousand men into the field, which should be ample for the -undertaking. They were well mounted and well equipped, the equipment -including a dozen cannon of three hundred pounds apiece and ten bombards -throwing balls of two hundred pounds. -</p> -<p> -'And the plan of campaign?' Bellarion asked. -</p> -<p> -It was expounded to him. It was extremely simple. They were to march on -Milan and reduce it. All was in readiness, as he would have seen for -himself; for as he rode into Alessandria he had come through the great -encampment under the walls, where the army awaited the order to march. -</p> -<p> -When Facino had done, Bellarion considered a moment before speaking. -</p> -<p> -'There is an alternative,' he said, at last, 'which you may not have -considered. Boucicault is grasping more than he can hold. To occupy -Milan, whose people are hostile to a French domination, he has drawn all -his troops from Genoa, where he has made himself detested by his -excessive rigours. You are confusing the issues here. You plan under the -persuasion that Milan is the enemy, whereas the only real adversary is -Boucicault. To cover himself at one point, he has uncovered at another. -Why aim your blow at his heart which is protected by his shield, when -you may aim it at his head which is unguarded by so much as a helmet?' -</p> -<p> -They made him no answer save with their eyes which urged that he, -himself, should answer the question he propounded. -</p> -<p> -'March, then, not on Milan, but on Genoa, which he has so foolishly left -open to attack—a folly for which he may have to answer to his master, -the King of France. The Genoese themselves will offer no resistance, and -you may take possession of the city almost without a blow.' -</p> -<p> -Approval came warm and eagerly from the Marquis Theodore, to be cut -short by Facino. -</p> -<p> -'Wait! Wait!' he rasped. The notion of Theodore's ambitions being -entirely gratified before Theodore should have carried out any of his -own part of the bargain was not at all in accordance with Facino's -views. 'How shall the possession of Genoa bring us to Milan?' -</p> -<p> -'It will bring Boucicault to Genoa,' Bellarion answered. -</p> -<p> -'It will draw him from his stronghold into the open, and his strength -will be reduced by the fact that he must leave some force behind to keep -the Milanese in subjection during his absence.' -</p> -<p> -So strategically sound did the plan appear to Facino upon consideration -that it overcame his reluctance to place the Regent of Montferrat at -this stage in possession of Genoa. -</p> -<p> -That reluctance he afterwards expressed to Bellarion, when they were -alone. -</p> -<p> -'You do it, not for Theodore, but for yourself,' he was answered. 'As -for Theodore ...' Bellarion smiled quietly. -</p> -<p> -'You need not grudge him any advantages. They will prove very transient. -Pay-day will come for him.' -</p> -<p> -Facino looked sharply at his adoptive son. 'Why, boy,' said he, at last, -in a voice of wonder. 'What is there between you and Theodore of -Montferrat?' -</p> -<p> -'Only my knowledge that he's a scoundrel.' -</p> -<p> -'If you mean to make yourself the scourge of scoundrels you'll be busy -in Italy. Why, it's sheer knight-errantry!' -</p> -<p> -'You may call it that,' said Bellarion, and became thoughtful. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap02_III"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER II -<br /><br /> -THE BATTLE OF NOVI</h4> - -<p> -The rest of this affair—this campaign against the too-ambitious vicar -of the King of France—is a matter of history, which you may read in -the chronicles of Messer Corio and elsewhere. -</p> -<p> -With a powerful army numbering close upon twelve thousand men, Facino -descended upon Genoa, which surrendered without a blow. At first there -was alarm at the advance of so large an army. The fear of pillage with -its attendant violence ran though the Genoese, who took the precaution -of sending their women and their valuables to the ships in the harbour. -Then the representatives of the people went out to meet Facino, and to -assure him that they would welcome him and the deliverance from the -French yoke provided that he would not bring his troops into the city. -</p> -<p> -'The only purpose for which I could wish to do so,' Facino answered from -the litter to which he was confined by the gout, grown worse since he -had left Alessandria, 'would be to enforce the rightful claims of the -Marquis of Montferrat. But if you will take him for your prince, my army -need advance no nearer. On the contrary, I will withdraw it towards Novi -to make of it a shield against the wrath of the Marshal Boucicault when -he returns!' -</p> -<p> -And so it befell that, attended only by five hundred of his own men, -Theodore of Montferrat made his state entry into Genoa on the morrow, -hailed as a deliverer by the multitude, whilst Facino fell back on Novi, -there to lie in wait for Boucicault. Nor was his patience tried. Upon -Boucicault confidently preparing for Facino's attack, the news of the -happenings in Genoa fell like a thunderbolt from a clear sky. -</p> -<p> -Between fury and panic he quitted Milan, and by his very haste destroyed -what little chance he may ever have had of mending the situation. By -forced marches he reached the plains about Novi to find the road held -against his jaded men. And here he piled error upon error. Being -informed that Facino himself, incapacitated by the gout, had been -carried that morning into Genoa, and that his army was commanded in his -absence by his adoptive son Bellarion, the French commander decided to -strike at once before Facino should recover and return to direct the -operations in person. -</p> -<p> -The ground was excellent for cavalry, and entirely of cavalry some four -thousand strong was Boucicault's main battle composed. Leading it in -person, he hurled it upon the enemy centre in a charge which he thought -must irresistibly cleave through. Nor did the mass of infantry of which -Bellarion's centre was composed resist. It yielded ground before the -furious onslaught of the French lances. Indeed, as if swayed by panic, -it began to yield long before any contact was established, and the -French in their rash exultation never noticed the orderliness of that -swift retreat, never suspected the trap, until they were fast caught in -it. For whilst the centre yielded, the wings stood firm, and the wings -were entirely composed of horse, the right commanded by the Piedmontese -Trotta, the left by Carmagnola, who, sulky and disgruntled at his -supersession in a supreme command which he deemed his right, had never -wearied of denouncing this disposition of forces as an insensate -reversal of all the known rules. -</p> -<p> -Back and back, ever more swiftly fell the foot. On and on pressed the -French, their lances couched, their voices already clamantly mocking -these opponents, who were being swept away like leaves by the mere gust -of the charge. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion, riding in the rear of his retreating infantry with a mounted -trumpeter beside him, uttered a single word. A trumpet blast rang out, -and before its note had died the retreat was abruptly checked. -Koenigshofen's men, who formed the van of that centre, suddenly drove -the butts of their fifteen-foot German pikes into the ground. Each man -of the two front ranks went down on one knee. A terrible hedge of spears -suddenly confronted the men-at-arms of France, riding too impetuously in -their confidence. Half a hundred horses were piked in the first impact. -Then the impetus of those behind, striking the leading ranks which -sought desperately to check, drove them forward onto those formidable -German points. The entire charging mass was instantly thrown into -confusion. -</p> -<p> -'That,' said Bellarion grimly, 'will teach Boucicault to respect -infantry in future. Sound the charge!' -</p> -<p> -The trumpeter wound another blast, thrice repeated, and in answer, as -Bellarion had preconcerted, the right and left wings, which had -gradually been extending, wheeled about and charged the French on both -flanks simultaneously. Only then did Boucicault perceive whither his -overconfident charge had carried him. Vainly did he seek to rally and -steady his staggering followers. They were enveloped, smashed, ridden -down before they could recover. Boucicault, himself, fighting like a man -possessed, fighting, indeed, for very life, hewed himself a way out of -that terrible press, and contrived to join the other two of the three -battles into which he had divided his army and which were pressing -forward now to the rescue. But they arrived too late. There was nothing -left to rescue. The survivors of the flower of Boucicault's army had -thrown down their arms and accepted quarter, and the reserves ran in to -meet a solid enemy front, which drove wedges into their ranks, and -mercilessly battered them, until Boucicault routed beyond redemption -drew off with what was left. -</p> -<p> -'A swift action, which was a model of the harmonious collaboration of -the parts.' Thus did Bellarion describe the battle of Novi which was to -swell his ever-growing fame. -</p> -<p> -Boucicault, as Bellarion said, had sought to grasp more than he could -hold when he had responded to Gian Maria's invitation, and at Novi he -lost not only Milan, but Genoa as well. In ignominy he took the road to -France, glad to escape with his life and some battered remnants of his -army, and Italy knew him no more after that day. -</p> -<p> -In the Fregoso Palace at Genoa, overlooking the harbour, where Theodore -of Montferrat had taken up his quarters, and where the incapacitated -Facino was temporarily lodged, there was a great banquet on the -following night to celebrate at once the overthrow of the French and the -accession of Theodore as Prince of Genoa. It was attended by -representatives of the twelve greatest families in the State as well as -by Facino, hobbling painfully on a crutch, and his captains; and whilst -the official hero of the hour was Theodore, the new Prince, the real -hero was Bellarion. -</p> -<p> -He received without emotion, without any sign either of pride or of -modesty, the tribute lavishly paid him by illustrious men and -distinguished women, by the adulatory congratulatory speech of Theodore, -or the almost malicious stress which Carmagnola laid on his good -fortune. -</p> -<p> -'You are well named Bellarione "Fortunato,"' that splendid soldier had -said. 'I am still wondering what would have happened if Boucicault had -perceived the trick in time.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion was coldly amiable in his reply. -</p> -<p> -'It will provide you with healthy mental exercise. Consider at the same -time what might have happened if Buonterzo had fathomed our intentions -at Travo, or Vignate had guessed my real purpose at Alessandria.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion moved on, leaving Camagnola to bite his lip and digest the -laughter of his brother captains. -</p> -<p> -His interview later with Prince Theodore was more serious. From its -outset he mistrusted the fawning suavity of the courtly Regent, so that, -when at the end of compliments upon his prowess, the Regent proposed to -take him and his company into the pay of Montferrat at a stipend vastly -in excess of that which Florence had lately paid him, Bellarion was not -at all surprised. Two things became immediately clear. First, that -Theodore desired greatly to increase his strength, the only reason for -which could be the shirking, now that all his aims were accomplished, of -his engagements towards Facino. Second, that he took it for -granted—as he had done before—that Bellarion was just a -venal, self-seeking adventurer who would never permit considerations of -honour to stand in the way of profit. -</p> -<p> -And the cupidity and calculation now revealed in Bellarion's countenance -assured Theodore that his skill in reading men had not been at fault on -this occasion. -</p> -<p> -'You offer me ...' He broke off. Stealthily his glance swept the -glittering groups that moved about the spacious white-and-gold room to -Facino Cane where he sat at the far end in a great crimson chair. He -lowered his voice a little. 'The loggia is empty, my lord. We shall be -more private there.' -</p> -<p> -They sauntered forth to that covered balcony overlooking the great -harbour where ranks of shipping drawn up against the mole were -slumbering under the stars. A great towering galley was moving across -the water with furled sails, her gigantic oar-blades flashing silver in -the moonlight. -</p> -<p> -With his glance upon that craft, his voice subdued, Bellarion spoke, and -the close-set eyes of the tall, elegant Regent strained to pierce the -shadows about the young condottiero's face. -</p> -<p> -'This is a very noble offer, Lord Prince ...' -</p> -<p> -'I hope I shall never begrudge a man his worth.' It was a speech true to -the character he loved to assume. 'You are a great soldier, Bellarion. -That fact is now established and admitted.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion did not contradict him. 'I do not perceive at present your -need for a great soldier, highness. True, your proposal seems to argue -plans already formed. But unless I know something of them, unless I may -judge for myself the likely extent of the service you require, these -generous terms may in effect prove an illusion.' -</p> -<p> -Theodore resumed his momentarily suspended breath. He even laughed a -little, now that the venal reason for Bellarion's curiosity was -supplied. But he deemed it wise to probe a little further. -</p> -<p> -'You are, as I understand, under no present engagement to the Count of -Biandrate?' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion's answer was very prompt. -</p> -<p> -'Under none. In discharge of past favours I engaged to assist him in the -campaign against the Marshal Boucicault. That campaign is now ended, and -with it my engagement. I am in the market, as it were, my lord.' -</p> -<p> -'That is what I assumed. Else, of course, I should not have come to you -with my offer. I lose no time because soon you will be receiving other -proposals. That is inevitable. For the same reason I name a stipend -which I believe is higher than any condottiero has ever yet commanded.' -</p> -<p> -'But you have not named a term. That was why I desired to know your -plans so that for myself I might judge the term.' -</p> -<p> -'I will make the engagement to endure for three years,' said Theodore. -</p> -<p> -'The proposal becomes generous, indeed.' -</p> -<p> -'Is it acceptable?' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion laughed softly. 'I should be greedy if it were not.' -</p> -<p> -'It will carry the usual condition that you engage for such service as I -may require and against any whom circumstances may make my enemy.' -</p> -<p> -'Naturally,' said Bellarion. But he seemed to falter a little. -'Naturally,' he repeated. 'And yet ...' He paused, and Theodore waited, -craftily refraining from any word that should curb him in opening his -mind. 'And yet I should prefer that service against my Lord Facino be -excepted.' -</p> -<p> -'You would prefer it?' said Theodore. 'But do you make it a condition?' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion's hesitation revealed him to the Regent for a man torn between -interest and scruples. Weakly, at last, he said: 'I would not willingly -go in arms against him.' -</p> -<p> -'Not willingly? That I can understand. But you do not answer my -question. Do you make it a condition?' -</p> -<p> -Still Bellarion avoided answering. -</p> -<p> -'Would the condition make my employment impossible?' And now it was -Theodore who hesitated, or seemed to hesitate. 'It would,' he said at -last. Very quickly he added: 'Nothing is less likely than that Facino -and I should be opposed to each other. Yet you'll understand that I -could not possibly employ a condottiero who would have the right to -desert me in such a contingency.' -</p> -<p> -'Oh, yes. I understand that. I have understood it from the first. I am -foolish, I suppose, to hesitate where the terms are so generous.' He -sighed, a man whose conscience was in labour. 'My Lord Facino could -hardly blame me ...' He left the sentence unfinished. And Theodore to -end the rogue's hesitation threw more weight into the scales. -</p> -<p> -'And there will be guarantees,' he said. -</p> -<p> -'Guarantees? Ah!' -</p> -<p> -'The lands of Asti along the Tanaro from Revigliasco to Margaria to be -made into a fief, and placed under your vicarship with the title of -Count of Asti.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion caught his breath. He turned to face the Marquis, and in the -moonlight his countenance looked very white. -</p> -<p> -'My lord, you promise something that is not yours to bestow.' -</p> -<p> -'It is to make it mine that I require your service. I am frank, you -see.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion saw more. He saw the infernal subtlety with which this tempter -went to work. He made clear his intentions, which must amount to no less -than the conquest and occupation of all those rich lands which lay -between High and Low Montferrat. To accomplish this, Alessandria, -Valenza, and a score of other cities now within the Duchy of Milan would -pass under his dominion. Inevitably, then, must there be war with -Facino, who to the end of his days would be in arms to preserve the -integrity of the Duchy. And Theodore offered this condottiero, whose -services he coveted, a dazzling reward to be gained only when those aims -were fulfilled. -</p> -<p> -On that seducer's arm Bellarion placed a hand that shook with -excitement. -</p> -<p> -'You mean this, my lord? It is a solemn undertaking.' -</p> -<p> -With difficulty Theodore preserved his gravity. How shrewdly had he not -taken the measure of this greedy rogue! -</p> -<p> -'Your patent shall be made out in anticipation, and signed at the same -time as the contract.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion stared out to sea. 'Count Bellarion of Asti!' he murmured, a -man dazzled, dazed. Suddenly he laughed, and laughing surrendered his -last scruple as Theodore was already confident that he would. 'When do -we sign, Lord Prince?' -</p> -<p> -'To-morrow morning, Lord Count,' Theodore answered with a tight-lipped -smile, and on that, the matter satisfactorily concluded, they quitted -the loggia and parted company. -</p> -<p> -They met again for the signing of the documents early on the following -morning in the Regent's closet, in the presence of the notary who had -drawn up the contract at Theodore's dictation, of two gentlemen of -Montferrat, and of Werner von Stoffel, who accompanied Bellarion, and -who, as Bellarion's lieutenant, was an interested party. -</p> -<p> -The notary read first the contract, which Bellarion pronounced correct -in all particulars, and then the ennobling parchment whereby Theodore -created him Count of Asti, anticipatorily detailing the lands which he -was to hold in fief. This document already signed and sealed was -delivered to Bellarion together with the contract which he was now -invited to sign. The notary dipped a quill and proffered it. But -Bellarion looked at the Regent. -</p> -<p> -'Documents,' he said, 'are perishable, and the matter contained in these -is grave. For which reason I have brought with me a witness, who in case -of need can hereafter testify to your undertaking, my lord.' -</p> -<p> -The Marquis frowned. 'Let Messer Stoffel examine them for himself then.' -</p> -<p> -'Not Messer Stoffel. The witness I prefer waits in your antechamber, -highness.' He stepped quickly to the door, followed by the Regent's -surprised glance. He pulled it open, and at once Facino was revealed to -them, grave of countenance, leaning upon his crutch. -</p> -<p> -The Regent made a noise in his throat, as Facino hobbled in to take the -parchments which Bellarion proffered him. Thereafter there was a spell -of dreadful silence broken at last by the Lord Theodore who was unable -longer to control himself. -</p> -<p> -'You miserable trickster! You low-born, swaggering Judas! I should have -known better than to trust you! I should have known that you'd be true -to your false, shifty nature. You dirty fox!' -</p> -<p> -'A trickster! A Judas! A fox!' Bellarion appealed mildly to the company -against the injustice of these epithets. 'But why such violence of -terms? Could I in loyalty to my adoptive father put my signature to this -contract until it had received his approval?' -</p> -<p> -'You mock me, you vile son of a dog!' -</p> -<p> -Facino looked up. His face was stern, his eyes smouldered. -</p> -<p> -'Think of some fouler epithet, my lord, so that I may cast it at you. So -far no term that you have used will serve my need.' -</p> -<p> -That gave Theodore pause in his reviling of another. But only for a -moment. Almost at once he was leaping furiously towards Facino. The -feral nature under his silken exterior was now displayed. He was a man -of his hands, this Regent of Montferrat, and, beggared of words to meet -the present case, he was prepared for deeds. Suddenly he found Bellarion -in his way, the bold, mocking eyes level with his own, and Bellarion's -right hand was behind his back, where the heavy dagger hung. -</p> -<p> -'Shall we be calm?' Bellarion was saying. 'There are half a dozen men of -mine in the anteroom if you want violence.' -</p> -<p> -He fell back, and for all that his eyes still glared he made an obvious -effort to regain his self-command. It was difficult in the face of -Facino's contemptuous laughter and the words Facino was using. -</p> -<p> -'You treacherous slug! I place you in possession of Vercelli; I make you -Prince of Genoa, before calling upon you to strike a single blow on my -behalf, and you prepare to use this new-found power against me! You'll -drive me from Alessandria! You'll seduce from me the best among my -captains to turn his weapons against me in your service! If Bellarion -had been an ingrate like yourself, if he had not been staunch and loyal, -whom you dare to call a Judas, I might have known nothing of this until -too late to guard myself. But I know you now, you dastardly usurper, -and, by the Bones of God, your days are numbered. You'll prepare for war -on Facino Cane, will you? Prepare, then, for, by the Passion, that war -is coming to you.' -</p> -<p> -Theodore stood there white to the lips, between his two dismayed -gentlemen, and said no word in answer. -</p> -<p> -Facino, with curling lip, considered him. -</p> -<p> -'I'd never have believed it if I had not read these for myself,' he -added. Then proffered the documents to Bellarion again. 'Give him back -his parchments, and let us go. The sight of the creature nauseates me.' -And without more, he hobbled out. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion lingered to tear the parchments across and across. He cast -them from him, bowed ironically, and was going out with Stoffel when the -Regent found his voice at last. -</p> -<p> -'You kite-hearted trickster! What stipend have you wrung from Facino as -the price of this betrayal?' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion paused on the threshold. 'No stipend, my lord,' he answered -equably. 'Merely a condition: that so soon as the affairs of Milan are -settled, he will see justice done to your nephew, the Marquis Gian -Giacomo, now of age to succeed, and put a definite end to your -usurpation.' -</p> -<p> -His sheer amazement betrayed from him the sudden question. 'What is Gian -Giacomo to you, villain?' -</p> -<p> -'Something he is, or else I should never have been at pains to make him -safe from you by demanding him as a hostage. I have been labouring for -him for longer than you think, highness.' -</p> -<p> -'You have been labouring for him? You? In whose pay?' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion sighed. 'You must be supposing me a tradesman, even when I am -really that quite senseless thing, a knight-errant.' And he went out -with Stoffel. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap03_III"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER III -<br /><br /> -FACINO'S RETURN</h4> - -<p> -A strong party of men-at-arms rode out of Genoa that morning, their -corselets flashing in the sunshine, and took the upland road by the -valley of the Scrivia towards Novi and Facino's camp. In their midst -went a mule litter wherein Facino brooded upon the baseness and -ingratitude of men, and asked himself whether perhaps his ambitious -Countess were not justified of her impatience with him because he -laboured for purposes other than the aggrandisement of himself. -</p> -<p> -From Novi he despatched Carmagnola with a strong escort to Casale to -bring the Countess Beatrice thence to Alessandria without loss of time. -He had no mind to allow Theodore to hold her as a hostage to set against -Gian Giacomo who remained with Facino. -</p> -<p> -Three days after leaving Novi, Facino's army, reduced by Theodore's -contingent of three thousand men which had been left behind, but still -in great strength, reached Vigevano, and halted there to encamp again -outside the town. Facino's vanity was the main reason. He would not -cross the Ticino until he could sit a horse again, so that he might ride -lance on thigh into Milan. Already his condition was greatly improved -under the ministrations of a Genoese physician named Mombelli, renowned -for his treatment of the podagric habit, who was now in Facino's train. -</p> -<p> -A week passed, and Facino now completely restored was only restrained -from pushing on by the arguments of his physician. Meanwhile, however, -if he did not go to Milan, many from Milan were coming to him. -</p> -<p> -Amongst the first to arrive was the firebrand Pusterla of Venegono, who -out of his passionate vindictiveness came to urge Facino to hang Gian -Maria and make himself Duke of Milan, assuring him of the support of all -the Ghibelline faction. Facino heard him without emotion, and would -commit himself to nothing. -</p> -<p> -Amongst the last to arrive was the Duke himself, in a rash trustfulness -which revealed the desperate view he must take of his own case and of -the helplessness to which his folly and faithlessness had reduced him. -He came accompanied by his evil genius Antonio della Torre, the fop -Lonate, the captain of his guard Bertino Mantegazza, and a paltry escort -of a hundred lances. -</p> -<p> -With those three attending him he was received by Facino in the house of -the Ducal Prefect of Vigevano. -</p> -<p> -'Your highness honours me by this proof of your trust in my integrity,' -said Facino, bending to kiss the jewelled ducal hand. -</p> -<p> -'Integrity!' The Duke's grotesque face was white, his red eyebrows drawn -together in a scowl. 'Is it integrity that brings you in arms against -me, Facino?' -</p> -<p> -'Not against you, Lord Duke. Never yet have I stood in arms against your -highness. It is upon your enemies that I make war. I have no aim but the -restoration of peace to your dominions.' -</p> -<p> -'Fine words on the lips of a mutinous traitor!' sneered the Duke. He -flung himself petulantly into a chair. -</p> -<p> -'If your highness believed that, you would not dare to come here.' -</p> -<p> -'Not dare? God's bones, man! Are these words for me? I am Duke of -Milan.' -</p> -<p> -'I study to remember it, highness,' said Facino, and the rumblings of -anger in his voice drove della Torre to pluck at his master's sleeve. -</p> -<p> -Thus warned, Gian Maria changed the subject but not the tone. 'You know -why I am here?' -</p> -<p> -'To permit me, I hope, to place myself at your potency's commands.' -</p> -<p> -'Ah! Bah! You make me sick with your fair words.' He grew sullen. 'Come, -man. What is your price?' -</p> -<p> -'My price, highness? What does your highness conceive I have to sell?' -</p> -<p> -'A little patience with his magnificence, my lord,' della Torre begged. -</p> -<p> -'I thought I was displaying it,' said Facino. 'Otherwise it might be -very bad for everybody.' He was really growing angry. -</p> -<p> -And now the idiot Duke must needs go prodding him into fury. -</p> -<p> -'What's that? Do you threaten me? Why, here's an insolent dog!' -</p> -<p> -Facino turned livid with passion. A tall fellow among his captains, very -noble-looking in cloth of silver under a blue houppelande, laughed -aloud. The pale, bulging eyes of Gian Maria sought him out venomously. -</p> -<p> -'You laugh, knave?' he snarled, and came to his feet, outraged by the -indignity. 'What is here for laughter?' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion laughed again as he answered: 'Yourself, Lord Duke, who in -yourself are nothing. You are Duke of Milan at present by the grace of -God and the favour of Facino Cane. Yet you do not hesitate to offend -against both.' -</p> -<p> -'Quiet, Bellarion,' Facino growled. 'I need no advocate.' -</p> -<p> -'Bellarion!' the Duke echoed, glaring malevolently. 'I remember you, and -remember you I shall. You shall be taught ...' -</p> -<p> -'By God, it is your highness shall be taught!' Facino crashed into the -threatening speech roaring like a thundergod. 'Get you hence, back to -your Milan until I come to give you the lesson that you need, and thank -God that you are your father's son and I have grace enough to remember -it, for otherwise you'd never go hence alive! Away with you, and get -yourself schooled in manners before we meet again or as God's my life -I'll birch you with these hands.' -</p> -<p> -Terrified, cowering before that raging storm, the line of which had -never yet broken about his ducal head, Gian Maria shrank back until his -three companions were between himself and Facino. Della Torre, almost -trembling, sought to pacify the angry condottiero. -</p> -<p> -'My lord! My lord! This is not worthy!' -</p> -<p> -'Not worthy! Is it worthy that I shall be called "dog" by a -cross-grained brat to whom I've played the foster-father? Out of my -sight, sir! Out of my sight, all of you! The door, Bellarion! The Duke -of Milan to the door!' -</p> -<p> -They went without another word, fearing, indeed, that another word might -be their last. But they did not yet return to Milan. They remained in -Vigevano, and that evening della Torre came seeking audience again of -Facino to make the Duke's peace with him, and Facino, having swallowed -his rage by then, consented to receive his highness once more. -</p> -<p> -The young man came, this time well schooled in prudence, to announce -that he was prepared to give Facino peaceful entrance into Milan and to -restore him to his office of ducal governor. In short, that he was -prepared to accord all that which he had no power to refuse. -</p> -<p> -Facino's answer was brief and clear. He would accept the office again, -provided that it was bestowed upon him for a term of three years, and -the bestowal guaranteed by an oath of fealty to be sworn upon his hands -by the Syndics of the Grand Council. Further, the Castle of Porta Giovia -was to be delivered into his keeping absolutely, and not only the -Guelphic Sanseverino, who now held the office of Podestà, but all other -Guelphs holding offices of State must be dismissed. Lastly, Antonio -della Torre, whom Facino accused of being at the root of most of the -trouble which had distracted Milan, must go into banishment together -with Lonate. -</p> -<p> -This last was the condition that Gian Maria would not swallow. He swore -it was a vile attempt to deprive him of all his friends. -</p> -<p> -Thus the conference ended inconclusively, and it was not until three -weeks later that the Duke finally yielded, and accepted Facino's terms -in their entirety. -</p> -<p> -On the evening of Wednesday, the sixth of November of that year, -attended by a large company, Facino Cane, Count of Biandrate, rode into -Milan to resume his governorship, a governorship which he was resolved -to render absolute this time. They entered the city in a downpour of -rain, notwithstanding which the streets were thronged by the people who -turned out to welcome the man in whom they beheld their saviour. -</p> -<p> -And in the Old Broletto, the young Duke, without a single friendly -Guelph at hand to comfort him, sat listening to that uproar, gnawing his -finger-nails and shuddering with rage and spite. -</p> -<p> -It becomes necessary, however, to remember, lest we should be swept -along by this stream of Viscontean history, that this present chronicle -is concerned not with the fortunes of Milan, but with those of -Bellarion, and that in these Facino Cane and Gian Maria Visconti are -concerned only to the extent of the part they bore in moulding them. -</p> -<p> -In the confused pages of old Corio you may read in detail, though you -may not always clearly understand, the events that followed upon -Facino's triumphant return to Milan. You will gather that the strength -in which he was known to be gave pause to Malatesta's plans to seize the -Duchy; that in fact the arch-Guelph chose to content himself with his -usurpation of the lordship of Brescia and Bergamo, and in Bergamo he -remained until Facino went to seek him there some two years later. If he -did not go before, it was because other more immediate and active -enemies of Milan claimed his attention. Vignate was in arms again, as -were also Estorre Visconti and his nephew Giovanni Carlo, and a host of -lesser insurgents, chief of whom was the Duke's own brother, that -Filippo Maria Visconti who was Count of Pavia. By the Ghibellines who -had fled to him from Milan during the days of Malatesta and Boucicault's -domination, Filippo Maria had been flattered into believing that he was -that party's only hope in Northern Italy. His ambition thus aroused, he -was ready to take advantage of the general distraction, and to -appropriate for himself the ducal chlamys. To this purpose was he arming -when Facino returned to Milan, and news of his preparations reached -Facino whilst he was suppressing the various rebellious outbreaks in the -Milanese, stamping out the embers of revolt in such places as Desio and -Gorgonzola. Only when he had restored order, established a proper -administration, and so brought back tranquillity to that harassed land, -did he turn his attention to the menace of the enemies farther afield. -And the first of these was Filippo Maria. He marched on Pavia, carried -the city by assault and put it to sack, choosing of all nights in the -year for that operation the night of Christmas. -</p> -<p> -That sack of Pavia is one of the most unsparing and terrible in the -terrible history of sacks, and the deed remains a blot upon the fame of -a soldier who, although rough and occasionally even brutal in his ways, -was yet a leader of high principles and a high sense of duty. -</p> -<p> -Thereafter he dealt with Filippo Maria much as he had dealt with his -ducal brother. He appointed himself governor of the young man's -dominions, filled the offices of State with men in his own confidence -and completely stripped the Count of authority. -</p> -<p> -The fat, flabby young Prince submitted in a singularly apathetic -fashion. He was of solitary, studious habits, a recluse, almost savagely -shy, shunning the society of men because of his excessive consciousness -of his own grotesque ugliness. -</p> -<p> -The spark of ambition that had been struck from him having been thus -summarily quenched, he retired to his books again, and let Facino have -his way with the State, nor complained so long as Facino left him in the -enjoyment of the little that was really necessary to his eremitic ways. -</p> -<p> -Facino made now of Pavia his headquarters, coming to dwell in the great -castle itself, and bringing thither from Alessandria his Countess. And -with the Countess of Biandrate came also the Princess Valeria of -Montferrat to rejoin at last her brother who had continued throughout in -Facino's train. The Princess had left Casale with the Countess when -Carmagnola appeared there as Facino's envoy with an escort. Her going -had been in the nature of a flight, whose object had been first to -rejoin her cherished brother, and second, to remove herself from the -power of her uncle, which, in all the circumstances made clear by -Carmagnola, seemed prudent. It is possible that she may also have hoped -by her presence near Facino to stimulate him into the fulfilment of the -threat against the Regent on which he had parted from him in Genoa. -</p> -<p> -But Facino had still more immediate matters to rectify before coming to -the affair of the Lord Theodore. The Regent must wait his turn. -</p> -<p> -He moved against Canturio in the following May, and made short work of -it. The campaign against Crema followed, and meanwhile Bellarion, with a -condotta increased to fifteen hundred men and supported by Koenigshofen, -had marched out of Milan to deal with the rebellious Bignate, whom in -the end he finally and definitely defeated. That done he returned to -Milan, where, ever since Facino's descent upon Pavia, he had held the -position of Facino's deputy, and had earned respect and even affection -by the equable wisdom of his rule. -</p> -<p> -All this in greater detail you will find set forth by Corio and Fra -Serafino of Imola, and it is Fra Serafino who tells us that Facino, -determined that Bellarion should not suffer by the loyalty which had -made him refuse the County of Asti, had constrained Gian Maria to create -him Count of Gavi, and the Commune of Milan to enlist the services of -his condotta for two years at a stipend of thirty thousand ducats -monthly. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap04_III"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER IV -<br /><br /> -THE COUNT OF PAVIA</h4> - -<p> -In the vast park of Pavia the trees stood leafless and black against the -white shroud of snow that covered the chilled earth. The river Ticino -gurgled and swirled about the hundred granite pillars which carried the -great roofed bridge, five hundred feet in length, spanning its grey and -turgid waters. Beyond this, Pavia the Learned reared above white roofs -her hundred snow-capped towers to the grey December sky, and beyond the -city, isolated, within the girdle of a moat that was both wide and deep, -stood the massive square castle, pink as coral, strong as iron, at once -impregnable fortress and unrivalled palace, one of the great monuments -of Viscontian power and splendour, described by Petrarch as the -princeliest pile in Italy. -</p> -<p> -The pride of the place was the library, a spacious square chamber in one -of the rectangular towers that rose at each of the four corners of the -castle. The floor was of coloured mosaics, figuring birds and beasts, -the ceiling of ultramarine star-flecked in gold, and along the walls was -ranged a collection of some nine hundred manuscript parchment volumes -bound in velvet and damask, or in gold and silver brocades. Their -contents contained all that was known of theology, astrology, medicine, -music, geometry, rhetoric, and the other sciences. This room was the -favourite haunt of the lonely, morose, and studious boy, the great Gian -Galeazzo's younger son, Filippo Maria Visconti, Count of Pavia. -</p> -<p> -He sat there now, by the log fire that hissed and spluttered and flamed -on the cavernous hearth, diffusing warmth and a fragrance of pine -throughout the chamber. And with him at chess sat the Lord Bellarion -Cane, Count of Gavi, one of the new-found friends who had invaded his -loneliness, and broken through the savage shyness which solitude and -friendlessness had set about him like a shell. -</p> -<p> -The others, the dark and handsome Countess of Biandrate, the fair and -now almost ethereal Princess of Montferrat, and that sturdier -counterpart of herself, her brother, were in the background by one of -the two-light windows with trefoil arches springing from slender -monials. -</p> -<p> -The Princess was bending low over a frame, embroidering in red and gold -and blue an altar-cloth for San Pietro in Ciel d'Oro. The Countess was -yawning over a beautifully illuminated copy of Petrarch's 'Trionfo -d'Amore.' The boy sat idle and listless between them, watching his -sister's white tapering fingers as they flashed to and fro. -</p> -<p> -Presently he rose, sauntered across to the players, drew up a stool, and -sat down to watch the game over which they brooded silently. -</p> -<p> -A crutch lay beside Bellarion, and his right leg was thrust out stiff -and unbending, to explain why he sat here on this day of late December -playing chess, whilst the campaign against Malatesta continued to rage -in the hills of Bergamo. He was suffering the penalty of the pioneer. -Having already demonstrated to his contemporaries that infantry, when -properly organised and manœuvred, can hold its own in the field against -cavalry, he had been turning his attention to artillery. Two months ago -he had mounted a park of guns under the walls of Bergamo with the -intention of breaching them. But at the outset of his operations a -bombard had burst, killing two of his bombardiers and breaking his -thigh, thus proving Facino's contention that artillery was a danger only -to those who employed it. -</p> -<p> -The physician Mombelli, who still continued in Facino's train, had set -the bone, whereafter Bellarion had been carefully packed into a mule -litter, and by roads, which torrential rains had reduced to quagmires, -he had been despatched to Pavia to get himself mended. His removal from -the army was regretted by everybody with two exceptions: Carmagnola, -glad to be relieved of a brother captain by comparison with whose -military methods his own were constantly suffering in the general -esteem; and Filippo Maria, when he discovered in Bellarion a -chess-player who was not only his equal but his master, and who in other -ways won the esteem of that very friendless boy. The Princess Valeria -was dismayed that this man, who out of unconquerable prejudice she -continued to scorn and mistrust, should become for a season her fellow -inquiline. And it was in vain that Gian Giacomo, who in the course of -his reformation had come to conceive a certain regard for Bellarion, -sought to combat his sister's deep-rooted prejudice. -</p> -<p> -When he insisted that it was by Bellarion's contriving that he had been -removed from his uncle's control, she had been moved to vehement scorn -of his credulity. -</p> -<p> -'That is what the trickster would have us think. He no more than carried -out the orders of the Count of Biandrate. His whole life bears witness -to his false nature.' -</p> -<p> -'Nay, now, Valeria, nay. You'll not deny that he is what all Italy now -proclaims him: one of the greatest captains of his time.' -</p> -<p> -'And how has he made himself that? Is it by knightly qualities, by -soldierly virtues? All the world knows that he prevails by guile and -trickery.' -</p> -<p> -'You've been listening to Carmagnola,' said her brother. 'He would give -an eye for Bellarion's skill.' -</p> -<p> -'You're but a boy,' she reminded him with some asperity. -</p> -<p> -'And Carmagnola, of course, is a handsome man.' -</p> -<p> -She crimsoned at the sly tone. On odd visits to Pavia, Carmagnola had -been very attentive to the Princess, employing all a peacock's arts of -self-display to dazzle her. -</p> -<p> -'He is an honest gentleman,' she countered hotly. 'It is better to trust -an upright, honest soldier than a sly schemer whose falsehood has been -proven to us.' -</p> -<p> -'If he schemes my ruin for my uncle's profit, he goes about it oddly, -neglecting opportunities.' -</p> -<p> -She looked at him with compassion. 'Bellarion never aims where he looks. -It is the world says that of him, not I.' -</p> -<p> -'And at what do you suspect that he is aiming now?' -</p> -<p> -Her deep eyes grew thoughtful. 'What if he serves our uncle to destroy -us, only so that in the end he may destroy our uncle to his own -advantage? What if he should aim at a throne?' -</p> -<p> -Gian Giacomo thought the notion fantastic, the fruit of too much -ill-ordered brooding. He said so, laughing. -</p> -<p> -'If you had studied his methods, Giannino, you would not say that. See -how he has wrought his own advancement. In four short years this son of -nobody, without so much as a name of his own has become the Knight -Bellarion, the Lord Bellarion of the Company of the White Dog, and now -the Lord Count of Gavi holding the rich lands of Gavi in feud.' -</p> -<p> -One there was who might have told her things which would have corrected -her judgment, and that was Facino's Countess. For the Lady Beatrice knew -the truth of those events in Montferrat which were at the root of the -Princess Valeria's bitter prejudice, of which also she was aware. -</p> -<p> -'You hate him very bitterly,' the Countess told her once when Bellarion -had been the subject of their talk. -</p> -<p> -'Would not you, if you were in my place?' -</p> -<p> -And the Countess, looking at her with those long indolent eyes of hers, -an inscrutable smile on her red lips, had answered with languorous -slowness: 'In your place it is possible that I should.' -</p> -<p> -The tone and the smile had intrigued the Princess for many a day -thereafter. But either she was too proud to ask what the Countess had -meant, or else afraid. -</p> -<p> -When after some eight weeks abed, Bellarion had begun to hobble about -the castle, and it was impossible for the Princess entirely to avoid -him, she was careful never to be alone where he might so surprise her, -using him when they met in the company of others with a distant, frigid -courtesy, which is perhaps the most piercing of all hostility. -</p> -<p> -If it wounded Bellarion, he gave no sign. He was—and therein lay half -the secret of his strength—a very patient man. He was content to wait -for the day when by his contriving the reckoning should be presented to -the Marquis Theodore, and she should know at last whose servant he -really was. Meanwhile, he modelled his demeanour upon her own. He did -not seek her company, nor indeed that of any in the castle save Filippo -Maria, with whom he would spend long hours at chess or instructing him -out of his own deep learning supported by one or another of the -treatises in that fine library. -</p> -<p> -Until the coming of Bellarion, the Count of Pavia had believed himself a -strong chess-player. Bellarion had made him realise that his knowledge -of the game was elementary. Where against former opponents he had swept -to easy triumphs, he now groaned and puffed and sweated over the board -to lessen the ignominy of his inevitable defeats. -</p> -<p> -To-day, however, he was groaning less than usual. He had piled up a -well-supported attack on Bellarion's flank, and for the first time in -weeks—for these games had begun whilst Bellarion was still -abed—he saw victory ahead. With a broad smile he brought up a -bishop further to strengthen the mass of his attack. He saw his way to -give check in three and checkmate in four moves. -</p> -<p> -Although only in his twentieth year, he was of a hog-like bulk. Of no -more than middle height, he looked tall when seated, for all the length -of him was in his flabby, paunchy body. His limbs were short and -shapeless. His face was as round as the full moon and as pale. A great -dewlap spread beneath his chin, and his neck behind hung in loose fat -folds upon his collar, so that the back of his head, which was flat, -seemed to slope inwards towards the crown. His short black hair was -smooth and sleek as a velvet cap, and a fringe of it across his forehead -descended almost to the heavy black eyebrows, thus masking the -intellectual depth of the only noble feature of that ignoble -countenance. Of his father all that he had inherited physically was the -hooked, predatory nose. His mouth was coarsely shaped and its lines -confirmed the impression of cruelty you gathered from the dark eyes -which were small and lack-lustre as a snake's. And the impression was a -true one, for the soul of this shy, morose young Prince was not without -its share of that sadic cruelty which marked all the men of his race. -</p> -<p> -To meet the bishop's move, Bellarion advanced a knight. The Prince's -laugh rang through the silent room. It was a shrill almost womanish -laugh, and it was seldom heard. High-pitched, too, was the voice that -followed. -</p> -<p> -'You but delay the inevitable, Bellarion,' he said, and took the knight. -</p> -<p> -But the move of the knight, which had appeared purely defensive to the -Prince in his intentness upon his own attack, had served to uncover the -file of Bellarion's queen. Supports had been previously and just as -cunningly provided. Bellarion advanced his hand, a long beautiful hand -upon which glowed a great carved sapphire set in brilliants—the blue -and white that were his colours. Forth flashed his queen across the -board. -</p> -<p> -'Checkmate, Lord Prince,' said Bellarion quietly, and sank back smiling -into the brocaded chair. -</p> -<p> -Filippo Maria stared unbelieving at the board. The lines of his mouth -drooped, and his great pendulous cheeks trembled. Almost he seemed on -the point of tears. -</p> -<p> -'God rot you, Bellarion! Always, always is it the same! I plan and build -and whilst you seem to do no more than defend, you are preparing a -death-stroke in an unexpected quarter.' Between jest and earnest he -added: 'You slippery rogue! Always you defeat me by a trick.' -</p> -<p> -The Princess Valeria looked up from her embroidery on the word. -Bellarion caught the movement and the glance in his direction. He knew -the thought behind, and it was that thought he answered. -</p> -<p> -'In the field, my opponents use the same word to decry me. But those who -are with me applaud my skill.' He laughed. 'Truth is an elusive thing, -highness, as Pontius Pilate knew. The aspect of a fact depends upon the -angle from which you view it.' -</p> -<p> -Filippo Maria sat back, his great chin sunk to his breast, his podgy -white hands gripping the arms of his chair, his humour sullen. -</p> -<p> -'I'll play no more to-day,' he said. -</p> -<p> -The Countess rose and crossed the room with a rustle of stiff brocade of -black and gold. -</p> -<p> -'Let me remove the board,' she said. 'A vile, dull game. I wonder that -you can waste such hours upon it.' -</p> -<p> -Filippo Maria raised his beady eyes. They kindled as they observed her, -raking her generous yet supple lines from head to foot. It was not the -first time that the watchful Bellarion had seen him look so at Facino's -lady, nor the first time that he had seen her wantonly display herself -to provoke that unmistakable regard. She bent now to the board, and -Filippo's smouldering glance was upon the warm ivory beauty of her neck, -and the swell of her breast revealed by the low-cut gown. -</p> -<p> -'It is human to despise what we do not understand,' Bellarion was -answering her. -</p> -<p> -'You would defend the game, of course, since you excel in it. That is -what you love, Bellarion; to excel; to wield mastery.' -</p> -<p> -'Do we not all? Do not you, yourself, madonna, glory in the power your -beauty gives you?' -</p> -<p> -She looked at Filippo. Her heavy eyelids drooped. 'Behold him turned -courtier, my lord. He perceives beauty in me.' -</p> -<p> -'He would be blind else,' said the fat youth, greatly daring. And the -next moment in a reaction of shyness a mottled flush was staining his -unhealthy pallor. -</p> -<p> -Lower drooped the lady's eyelids, until a line of black lashes lay upon -her cheek. -</p> -<p> -'The game,' Gian Giacomo interposed, 'is a very proper one for princes. -Messer Bellarion told me so.' -</p> -<p> -'He means, child,' Filippo answered him, 'that it teaches them a bitter -moral: that whilst a State depends upon the Prince—the Prince himself -is entirely dependent upon others, being capable in his own person of -little more than his meanest pawn.' -</p> -<p> -'To teach that lesson to a despot,' said Bellarion, 'was the game -invented by an Eastern philosopher.' -</p> -<p> -'And the most potent piece upon the board, as in the State, is the -queen, symbolising woman.' Thus Filippo Maria, his eyes full upon the -Countess again. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion laughed. 'Aye! He knew his world, that ancient Oriental!' -</p> -<p> -But he did not laugh as the days passed, and he observed the growing -lechery in the beady eyes with which the Count of Pavia watched the Lady -Beatrice's every movement, and the Lady Beatrice's provocative -complacency under that vigilance. -</p> -<p> -One day, at last, coming upon the Countess alone in that library, -Bellarion unmasked the batteries he had been preparing. -</p> -<p> -He hobbled across to the arched window by which she was seated, and -leaning against its monial, looked out upon the desolate park. The snows -had gone, washed away by rains, and since these had come a frost under -which the ground lay now as grey and hard as iron. -</p> -<p> -'They will be feeling the rigours of the winter in the camp under -Bergamo,' he said, moving, as ever, obliquely to the attack. -</p> -<p> -'They will so. Facino should have gone into winter quarters.' -</p> -<p> -'That would mean recommencing in the spring a job that is half done -already.' -</p> -<p> -'Yet with his gout and the infirmities of age, it might prove wiser in -the end.' -</p> -<p> -'Each age has its own penalties, madonna. It is not only the elderly -among humanity who need compassion.' -</p> -<p> -'Wisdom oozes from you like sweat from another.' There was a tartness in -her accents. 'If I were your biographer, Bellarion, I should write of -you as the soldier-sage, or the philosopher-at-arms.' -</p> -<p> -Propped on his crutch and his one sound leg, Bellarion considered her, -his head on one side, and fetched a sigh. -</p> -<p> -'You are very beautiful, madonna.' -</p> -<p> -She was startled. 'God save us!' she cried. 'Does the soldier-sage -contain a mere man, after all?' -</p> -<p> -'Your mouth, madonna, is too sweetly formed for acids.' -</p> -<p> -'The choicest fruits, sir, have an alloy of sharpness. What else about -me finds favour in your eyes?' -</p> -<p> -'In my eyes! My eyes, madonna, are circumspect. They do not prowl -hungrily over another's pastures.' -</p> -<p> -She looked at him between anger and apprehension, and slowly a wave of -scarlet came to stain her face and bosom, to tell him that she -understood. He lowered himself carefully to a chair, thrusting out his -damaged leg, to the knee-joint of which articulation was only just -beginning to return. -</p> -<p> -'I was saying, madonna, that they will be feeling the rigours of the -winter in the camp under Bergamo. There was a hard frost last night, and -after the frost there will be rains under which the hills thereabouts -will melt in mud.' He sighed again. 'You would regret, madonna, to -exchange for that the ease and comfort of Pavia.' -</p> -<p> -'You have the fever again. I am not thinking of making that exchange.' -</p> -<p> -'No. I am thinking of it for you.' -</p> -<p> -'You! Saint Mary! And do you dispose of me?' -</p> -<p> -'It will be cold up there, madonna. But you need cooling. Coolness -restores judgment. It will bring you back to a sense of duty to your -lord.' -</p> -<p> -She came to her feet beside him, quivering with anger. Almost he thought -her intention was to strike him. -</p> -<p> -'Have you come here to spy upon me?' -</p> -<p> -'Of course. Now you know why I broke my leg.' -</p> -<p> -She looked unutterable scorn. 'The Princess Valeria is right in her -opinion of you, in her disdain of you.' -</p> -<p> -His eyes grew sad. 'If you were generous, madonna—nay, if you were -merely honest—you would not embrace her opinions; you would correct -them; for you have the knowledge that would suffice to do so. But you -are not honest. If you were, there would be no need for me to speak now -in defence of the honour of your absent lord.' -</p> -<p> -'Is it for you to say I am not honest?' There was now more of sorrow -than indignation in her voice, and tears were gathering in her eyes, to -deepen their sapphire hue. 'God knows I have been honest with you, -Bellarion. It is this very honesty you abuse in your present misjudgment -of me. Oh! Me miserable!' It was the cry of a wounded soul. She sank -down again into her chair. Self-pity welled in her to drown all else. 'I -am to be starved of everything. If ever woman was pitiable, I am that -woman; and you, Bellarion, you of all living men that know my heart, can -find for me only cruelty and reproach!' -</p> -<p> -It moved him not at all. The plea was too inconsequent and illogical, -and the display of a lack of reason repelled him like a physical defect. -</p> -<p> -'Your plaint, madonna, is that Facino will not make you a duchess. He -may do so yet if you are patient.' -</p> -<p> -Her tears had suddenly ceased. -</p> -<p> -'You know something!' she exclaimed in a hushed voice. -</p> -<p> -The rogue fooled her with that illusion, whilst refraining from using -words which might afterwards be turned against him. -</p> -<p> -'I know that you will lose the chance if meanwhile you should cease to -be Facino's wife. If you were so mad as to become the leman of another, -you know as well as I do that the Lord Facino would put you from him. -What should you be then? That is why I am your friend when I think of -the camp at Bergamo for you.' -</p> -<p> -Slowly she dried her eyes. Carefully she removed all stains of tears. It -consumed a little time. Then she rose and went to him, and took his -hand. -</p> -<p> -'Thank you, Bellarion, my friend.' Her voice was hushed and tender. 'You -need have no fear for me.' She paused a moment. 'What ... what has my -lord said to you of his intent?' -</p> -<p> -'Nay, nay,' he laughed, 'I betray no confidences.' The trickster's tone -was a confidence in itself. He swept on. 'You bid me have no fear for -you. But that is not enough. Princes are reckless folk. I'd not have you -remain in jeopardy.' -</p> -<p> -'Oh! But Bergamo!' she cried out. 'To be encamped in winter!' -</p> -<p> -'You need not go so far, nor under canvas. In your place, madonna, I -should retire to Melegnano. The castle is at your disposal. It is -pleasanter than Pavia.' -</p> -<p> -'Pleasanter! In that loneliness?' -</p> -<p> -'It is the company here that makes it prudent. And you may take the -Princess Valeria and her brother with you. Come, come, madonna. Will you -trifle with fate at such a time? Will you jeopardise a glorious destiny -for the sake of an obese young lordling?' -</p> -<p> -She considered, her face fretful. 'Tell me,' she begged again, 'what my -lord has divulged to you of his intentions?' -</p> -<p> -'Have I not said enough already?' -</p> -<p> -The entrance of Filippo Maria at that moment saved him the need of -further invention. It perturbed him not at all that the Prince's round -white face should darken at the sight of them so close and fond. She was -warned. Her greed of power and honour would curb her wantonness and -ensure her withdrawal to Melegnano as he urged. Bellarion glowed with -the satisfaction of a battle won, nor troubled about the deceit he had -practised. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap05_III"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER V -<br /><br /> -JUSTICE</h4> - -<p> -The Epiphany mummeries were long overpast, the iron hand of winter was -withdrawn from the land, and in the great forest of Pavia, where Gian -Galeazzo had loved to hunt, the trees were breaking into bud before -Bellarion's condition permitted him to think of quitting the ease of -Filippo Maria's castle. His leg had mended well, the knee-joint had -recovered its suppleness, and only a slight limp remained. -</p> -<p> -He spoke of returning to Bergamo. 'This lotus-eating has endured too -long already,' he told the Prince in answer to the latter's -remonstrances; for Filippo Maria was reluctant to part with one who in -many ways had beguiled for him the tedium of his lonely life, rendered -lonelier than ever before by the withdrawal of the Countess of -Biandrate, who had gone with the Montferrine Princess to Melegnano. -</p> -<p> -But it was not written that Filippo Maria should be left alone; for on -the very eve of Bellarion's intended departure, Facino himself was borne -into the Castle of Pavia, crippled by an attack of gout of a severity -which had compelled him to leave his camp just as he was preparing to -reap the fruits of his long and patient siege. -</p> -<p> -He had lost weight, and his face out of which the healthy tan had -departed was grey and drawn. His hair from fulvid that it had been was -almost white. But the spirit within remained unchanged, indomitable, and -intolerant of this enforced inertia of the flesh. -</p> -<p> -He was put to bed immediately on his arrival, for he was in great pain -and swore that the gout, which he called by all manner of evil names, -had got into his stomach. -</p> -<p> -'Mombelli warned me there was danger of it.' -</p> -<p> -'Where is Mombelli?' Bellarion asked. He stood with Filippo Maria by the -canopied bed in a spacious chamber in the northern tower, adjacent to -the Hall of Mirrors. -</p> -<p> -'Mombelli, devil take his soul, left me a month ago, when I seemed well, -to go to Duke Gian Maria who desired to appoint him his physician. I've -sent for him again to the Duke. Meanwhile some Pavese doctor will be -required to give me ease.' He groaned with pain. Then, recovering, -rapped out his orders to Bellarion. 'It's a mercy you are recovered, for -you are needed at Bergamo. Meanwhile Carmagnola commands there, but he -has my orders to surrender his authority to you on your arrival.' -</p> -<p> -It was an order which Carmagnola did not relish, as he plainly showed -when Bellarion reached the camp two days later. But he dared not disobey -it. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion examined the dispositions, but changed nothing. He carried -forward the plans already made by Facino. The siege could be tightened -no further, and, considering the straits to which Malatesta must be -reduced, there could be little point in wasting lives on an assault. -</p> -<p> -A week after Bellarion's coming there rode into the great camp of green -tents under the walls of Bergamo, a weary, excited fellow all splashed -with mud from the fury of his riding. -</p> -<p> -Brought, by the guards who had checked his progress, to Facino's large -and handsomely equipped pavilion, pitched beside the racing waters of -the Serio, this slight, swarthy, fierce-eyed man proved to be that -stormy petrel, Giovanni Pusterla of Venegono. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion rose from the couch, covered by a black bear-skin on which he -had been reclining, and closed the beautifully illuminated copy of -Juvenal's 'Satires,' which had been a parting gift from Filippo Maria. -His gesture dismissed the Swiss halberdiers, who had ushered in this -visitor. The very name of Venegono was of ill omen, and ill-omened was -the man's haggard countenance now, and his own announcement. -</p> -<p> -'I bring evil tidings, Lord Count.' -</p> -<p> -'You are consistent,' said Bellarion. 'A great quality.' -</p> -<p> -Venegono stared at him. 'Give me to drink,' he begged. 'God! How I -thirst. I have ridden from Pavia without pause save to change horse at -Caravaggio.' -</p> -<p> -'From Pavia!' Bellarion's tone and manner changed; apprehension showed -in both. But not on that account was he neglectful of the needs of his -guest. On an ample square table in mid-tent stood a jug of wine and some -beautiful drinking-cups, their bowls of beaten gold, their stems of -choicely wrought silver, beside a dish of sweetmeats, bread, and a small -loaf of cheese. Bellarion poured a cup of strong red Valtelline. -Venegono drained it. -</p> -<p> -'Aye, I am consistent, as you say. And so is that hellspawn Gian Maria -Visconti. Of his consistency, mine. By your leave.' -</p> -<p> -He flung himself wearily into the cushioned fald-stool by the table, and -set down his cup. Bellarion nodded, and resumed his seat on the -bear-skin. -</p> -<p> -'What has happened in Pavia?' -</p> -<p> -'In Pavia nothing. Nothing yet. I rode there to warn Facino of what is -happening in Milan, but Facino ... The man is ill. He could do nothing -if he would, so I come on to you.' And now, leaning forward, and -scarcely pausing to draw breath, he launched the news he had ridden so -desperately to bring. 'Della Torre is back in Milan, recalled by Gian -Maria.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion waited, but nothing further came. -</p> -<p> -'Well, man?' he asked. 'Is that all?' -</p> -<p> -'All? Does it mean so little to you that you ask that? Don't you know -that this damned Guelph, whom Facino banished when he should have hanged -him, has been throughout the inspirer of all the evil that has been -wrought against Facino and against all the Ghibellines of Milan? Don't -you understand that his return bodes ill?' -</p> -<p> -'What can he do? What can Gian Maria do? Their wings are clipped.' -</p> -<p> -'They are growing fresh ones.' Venegono came to his feet again, his -weariness forgotten in his excitement. 'Since della Torre's secret -return a month ago, orators have been sent to Theodore of Montferrat, to -the battered Vignati, to the Esti, and even to Estorre Visconti, to -invite them into a league.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion laughed. 'Let them league. If they are so mad as to do so, -Facino will smash their league into shards when this Bergamo business is -over. You forget that under his hand is the strongest army in Italy -to-day. We muster over twelve thousand men.' -</p> -<p> -'My God! I seem to be listening to Facino himself.' Venegono slobbered -in his excitement, his eyes wild. 'It was thus he answered me.' -</p> -<p> -'Why, then, have troubled to come to me?' -</p> -<p> -'In the hope that you would see what he will not. You talk as if the -army were all. You forget that Gian Maria is a thing of venom, like the -emblem of his accursed house. Where there is venom and the will to use -it, beware the occasion. If anything should happen to Facino, what hope -will remain for the Ghibellines of Milan?' -</p> -<p> -'What should happen to Facino? At what are you hinting, man?' -</p> -<p> -Venegono looked at him between rage and compassion. 'Where is Mombelli?' -he asked. 'Why is he not with Facino now that Facino needs him? Do you -know?' -</p> -<p> -'But is he not with Facino? Has he not yet arrived?' -</p> -<p> -'Arrived? Why was he ever withdrawn? To be made physician to the Duke. A -pretext, my friend, to deprive Facino of his healing services. Do you -know that since his coming to Milan he has not been seen? There are -rumours that he is dead, that the Duke has murdered him.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion considered. Then he shrugged. 'Your imagination fools you, -Venegono. If Gian Maria proposed to strike Facino, he would surely -attempt something more active and effective.' -</p> -<p> -'It may be little, I confess. But it is a straw that points the way of -the wind.' -</p> -<p> -'A straw, indeed,' Bellarion agreed. 'But in any case, what do you -require of me? You have not told me that.' -</p> -<p> -'That you take a strong detachment of your men and repair at once to -Milan to curb the Duke's evil intentions and to deal with della Torre.' -</p> -<p> -'For that my lord's orders would be necessary. My duty is here, -Venegono, and I dare not neglect it. Nor is the matter so urgent. It can -wait until Bergamo has been reduced, which will not be long.' -</p> -<p> -'Too long, it may be.' -</p> -<p> -But not all the passionate pleading with which he now distressed -Bellarion could turn the latter from his clear duty, or communicate to -him any of the vague alarms which agitated Venegono. And so, at last, he -went his ways in despair, protesting that both Bellarion and Facino were -beset with the blindness of those whom the gods wish to destroy. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion, however, saw in Venegono's warning no more than an attempt to -use him for the execution of a private vengeance. Three days later he -thought he had confirmation of this. It came in a letter bearing -Facino's signature, but penned in the crabbed and pointed hand of the -Countess, who had been summoned from Melegnano to minister to her lord. -It informed Bellarion that the physician Mombelli had come at last in -response to Facino's request, and that Facino hoped soon to be afoot -again. Indeed, there was already a perceptible improvement in his -condition. -</p> -<p> -'So much for Venegono's rumours that Mombelli has been murdered,' said -Bellarion to himself, and laughed at the scaremongering of that -credulous hot-head. -</p> -<p> -But he thought differently when after another three days a second letter -reached him signed by the Countess herself. -</p> -<p> -'My lord begs you to come to him at once,' she wrote. 'He is so ill that -Messer Mombelli despairs of him. Do not lose a moment, or you may be too -late.' -</p> -<p> -He was more deeply stirred by that summons than by anything he could -remember. If those who accounted him hard and remorselessly calculating -could have seen him in that moment, the tears filming his eyes at the -very thought of losing this man whom he loved, they must have formed a -gentler opinion of his nature. -</p> -<p> -He sent at once for Carmagnola, and ordered a strong horse to be saddled -and twenty lances to prepare to ride with him. Ride with him, however, -they did not. They followed. For he rode like one possessed of devils. -In three hours he covered the forty miles of difficult road that lay -between Bergamo and Pavia, leaving one horse foundered and arriving on a -second one that was spent by the time he reached Filippo Maria's -stronghold. Down he flung from it in the great courtyard, and, -staggering and bespattered, he mounted the main staircase so wide and of -such shallow steps that it was possible to ascend it on horseback. -</p> -<p> -Without pausing to see the Prince, he had himself conducted straight to -Facino's chamber, and there under the damask-hung canopy he found his -adoptive father supine, inert, his countenance leaden-hued, looking as -if he were laid out in death, save for his stertorous breathing and the -fire that still glowed in the eyes under their tufted, fulvid brows. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion went down on his knees beside the bed, and took, in both his -own that were so warm and strong, the cold, heavy hand that lay upon the -coverlet. -</p> -<p> -The grey head rolled a little on its pillow; the ghost of a smile -irradiated the strong, rugged face; the fingers of the cold hand faintly -pressed Bellarion's. -</p> -<p> -'Good lad, you have lost no time,' he said, in a weak, rasping voice. -'And there is no time to lose. I am sped. Indeed, my body's dead -already. Mombelli says the gout is mounting to my heart.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion looked up. Beyond the bed stood the Countess, fretful and -troubled. At the foot was Mombelli, and in the background a servant. -</p> -<p> -'Is this so?' he asked the physician. 'Can your skill avail nothing -here?' -</p> -<p> -'He is in God's hands,' said Mombelli, mumbling indistinctly. -</p> -<p> -'Send them away,' said Facino, and his eyes indicated Mombelli and the -servant. 'There is little time, and I have things to tell you. We must -take order for what's to follow.' -</p> -<p> -The orders did not amount to very much. He required of Bellarion that he -should afford the Countess his protection, and he recommended to him -also Filippo Maria. -</p> -<p> -'When Gian Galeazzo died, he left his sons in my care. I go to meet him -with clean hands. I have discharged my trust, and dying I hand it on to -you. Remember always that Gian Maria is Duke of Milan, and whatever the -shortcomings he may show, for your own sake if not for his, practise -loyalty to him, as you would have your own captains be loyal to you.' -</p> -<p> -When at last, wearied, and announcing his desire to rest, Facino bade -him go, Bellarion found Mombelli pacing in the Hall of Mirrors, and sent -him to Facino. -</p> -<p> -'I shall remain here within call,' he said, and oblivious of his own -fatigue he paced in his turn that curious floor whereon birds and beasts -were figured in mosaics under the gaudy flashing ceiling of coloured -glass, whence the place derived its name. -</p> -<p> -There Mombelli found him a half-hour later, when he emerged. -</p> -<p> -'He sleeps now,' he said. 'The Countess is with him.' -</p> -<p> -'It is not yet the end?' Bellarion asked. -</p> -<p> -'Not yet. The end is when God wills. He may linger for some days.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion looked sharply at the doctor, considered him, indeed, now for -the first time since his arrival. This Mombelli was a man of little more -than thirty-five. He had been vigorous of frame, inclining a little to -portliness, rubicund if grave of countenance with strong white teeth and -bright dark eyes. Bellarion beheld now an emaciated man upon whose -shrunken frame a black velvet gown hung in loose folds. His face was -pale, his eyes dull; but oddest of all the very shape of his face had -changed; his jaw had fallen in, so that nose and chin were brought -closer like those of an old man, and when he spoke he hissed and mumbled -indistinctly over toothless gums. -</p> -<p> -'By the Host, man! What has happened to you?' -</p> -<p> -Mombelli shrank visibly from the questions and from the stern eyes that -seemed to search his very soul. -</p> -<p> -'I ... I ... have been ill,' he faltered. 'Very ill. It is a miracle I -am alive to-day.' -</p> -<p> -'But your teeth, man?' -</p> -<p> -'I have lost them as you see. A consequence of my disease.' -</p> -<p> -A horrible suspicion was sprouting in Bellarion's mind, nourished by the -memory of the rumour of this man's death which Venegono had reported. He -took the doctor by the sleeve of his velvet gown, and drew him towards -one of the double windows. His shrinking, his obvious reluctance to -undergo this closer inspection, were so much added food to Bellarion's -suspicion. -</p> -<p> -'How do you call this disease?' he asked. -</p> -<p> -Clearly, from his hesitancy, Mombelli had been unprepared for the -question. 'It ... it is a sort of podagric affection,' he mumbled. -</p> -<p> -'And your thumb? Why is that bandaged?' -</p> -<p> -Terror leapt to Mombelli's eyes. His toothless jaws worked fearfully. -'That? That is naught. An injury.' -</p> -<p> -'Take off the bandage. Take it off, man. I desire to see this injury. Do -you hear me?' -</p> -<p> -At last Mombelli with shaking fingers stripped the bandage from his left -thumb, and displayed it naked. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion went white, and his eyes were dreadful. 'You have been -tortured, master doctor. Gian Maria has subjected you to his Lent.' -</p> -<p> -This Lent of Gian Maria's invention was a torment lasting forty days, on -each of which one or more teeth were torn from the patient's jaws, then -day by day a finger nail, whereafter followed the eyes and finally the -tongue, whereupon the sufferer being rendered dumb and unable to confess -what was desired, he was shown at last the mercy of being put to death. -</p> -<p> -Mombelli's livid lips moved frantically, but no words came. He reeled -where he stood until he found the wall to steady him, and Bellarion -watched him with those dreadful, searching eyes. -</p> -<p> -'To what end did he torture you? What did he desire of you?' -</p> -<p> -'I have not said he tortured me. It is not true.' -</p> -<p> -'You have not said it. No. But your condition says it. You have not said -it, because you dare not. Why did he do this? And why did he desist?' -Bellarion gripped him by the shoulders. 'Answer me.' To what did the -torments undergone suffice to constrain you? Will you answer me?' -</p> -<p> -'O God!' groaned the physician, sagging limply against the wall, and -looking as if he would faint. -</p> -<p> -But there was no pity in Bellarion's face. Come with me,' he said, and -it was almost by main force that he dragged the wretched doctor across -that hall out to the gallery, and down the wide steps to the great -court. Here under the arcade some men-at-arms of Facino's bodyguard were -idling. Into their hands Bellarion delivered Mombelli. -</p> -<p> -'To the question chamber,' he said shortly. -</p> -<p> -Mombelli, shattered in nerve and sapped of manhood by his sufferings, -cried out, piteously inarticulate. Pitilessly Bellarion waved him away, -and the soldiers bore him off, screaming, to the stone chamber under the -north-eastern tower. There, in the middle of the uneven stone floor, -stood the dread framework of the rack. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion, who had followed, ordered them to strip him. The men were -reluctant to do the office of executioners, but under the eyes of -Bellarion, standing as implacable as the god of wrath, they set about -it, nevertheless, and all the while the broken man's cries for mercy -filled that vaulted place with an ever-mounting horror. At the last, -half-naked, he broke from the men's hands and flung himself at -Bellarion's feet. -</p> -<p> -'In the name of the sweet Christ, my lord, take pity on me! I can bear -no more. Hang me if you will, but do not let me be tortured again.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion looked down on the grovelling, slobbering wretch with an -infinite compassion in his soul. But there was no sign of it on his -countenance or in his voice. -</p> -<p> -'You have but to answer my question, sir, and you shall have your wish. -You shall be hanged without further suffering. Why did the Duke torture -you, and why did the torture cease when it did? To what importunities -did you yield?' -</p> -<p> -'Already you have guessed it, my lord. That is why you use me so! But it -is not just. As God's my witness, it is not just. What am I but a poor -man caught in the toils of the evil desires of others? As long as God -gave me the strength to resist, I resisted. But I could bear no more. -There was no price at which I would not have purchased respite from that -horror. Death I could have borne had that been all they threatened. But -I had reached the end of my endurance of pain. Oh, my lord, if I were a -villain there would have been no torture to endure. They offered me -bribes, bribes great enough to dazzle a poor man, that would have left -me rich for the remainder of my days. When I refused, they threatened me -with death unless I did their infamous will. Those threats I defied. -Then they subjected me to this protracted agony which the Duke impiously -calls his Lent. They drew my teeth, brutally with unutterable violence, -two each day until all were gone. Broken and most starved as I was, -distracted by pain, which for a fortnight had been unceasing, they began -upon my finger-nails. But when they tore the nail from my left thumb, I -could bear no more. I yielded to their infamy.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion made a sign to the men, and they pulled Mombelli to his feet. -But his eyes dared not meet the terrible glance of Bellarion. -</p> -<p> -'You yielded to their demands that, under the pretence of curing him, -you should poison my Lord Facino. That is the thing to which you -yielded. But when you say "they" whom do you mean?' -</p> -<p> -'The Duke Gian Maria and Antonio della Torre.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion remembered Venegono's warning—'He is a thing of venom, like -the emblem of his house.' -</p> -<p> -'Poor wretch!' said Bellarion. 'You deserve some mercy, and you shall -have it, provided you can undo what you have done.' -</p> -<p> -'Alas, my lord!' Mombelli groaned, wringing his hands in a passion of -despair. 'Alas! There is no antidote to that poison. It works slowly -gradually corroding the intestines. Hang me, my lord, and have done. Had -I been less of a coward, I would have hanged myself before I did this -thing. But the Duke threatened that if I failed him the torture should -be resumed and continued until I died of sheer exhaustion. Also he swore -that my refusal would not save my Lord Facino, whom he would find other -means of despatching.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion stood between loathing and compassion. But there was no -thought in his mind of hanging this poor wretch, who had been the victim -of that malignant Duke. -</p> -<p> -He uttered an order in cold, level tones: 'Restore him his garments and -place him in confinement until I send for him again.' -</p> -<p> -On that he departed from that underground chamber, and slowly, -thoughtfully made his way above. -</p> -<p> -By the time he reached the courtyard his resolve was taken, though his -neck should pay for it: Gian Maria should not escape. For the first and -only time in those adventurous years of his did he swerve from the -purpose by which he laid his course, and turn his hand to a task that -was not more or less directly concerned with its ultimate fulfilment. -</p> -<p> -And so, without pausing for rest or food, you behold him once more in -the saddle, riding hard for Milan on that Monday afternoon. -</p> -<p> -He conceived that he bore thither the first news of Facino's moribund -condition. -</p> -<p> -But rumour had been ahead of him by a day and a half, and the rumour -ran, not that Facino was dying, but that he was already dead. -</p> -<p> -In all the instances history affords of poetic justice to give pause to -those who offend against God and Man, none is more arresting than that -of the fate of Gian Maria Visconti. Already on the previous Friday word -had reached the Duke, not only from Mombelli, but from at least one of -the spies he had placed in his brother's household, that the work of -poisoning was done and that Facino's hours were numbered. Gloating with -della Torre and Lonate over the assurance that at last the ducal neck -was delivered from that stern heel under which so long it had writhed -like the serpent of evil under the heel of Saint Michael, Gian Maria had -been unable to keep the knowledge to himself. About the court on that -same Friday night he spoke unguardedly of Facino as dead or dying, and -from the court the news filtered through to the city and was known to -all by the morning of Saturday. And that news carried with it a dismay -more utter and overwhelming than any that had yet descended upon Milan -since Gian Maria had worn the ducal crown. Facino, when wielding the -authority of ducal governor, had been the people's bulwark against the -extortions, brutalities, and criminal follies of their Duke. When absent -and deposed from power, he had still been their hope, and they had -possessed their soul as best they could against the day of his return, -which they knew must dawn. But Facino dead meant an unbridling of the -Duke's bestiality, a free charter to his misrule, and for his people an -outlook of utter hopelessness. It may be that they exaggerated in their -own minds this calamity. It was for them the end of the world. Despair -settled that morning upon the city. The Duke would have laughed if it -had been reported to him, because he lacked the wit to perceive that -when men are truly desperate catastrophes ensue. -</p> -<p> -And at once, whilst the great mass of the people were stricken by horror -into a dull inertia, there were those who saw that the situation called -for action. Of these were members of the leading Ghibelline families of -Bagio, of del Maino, Trivulzi, Aliprandi, and others. There was that -Bertino Mantegazza, captain of the ducal guard whose face the Duke had -one day broken with his iron gauntlet, and fiercest and most zealous of -all there was that Giovanni Pusterla of Venegono, whose family had -suffered such deep and bitter wrongs at the Duke's hands. -</p> -<p> -There was no suspicion in the mind of any that the Duke himself was -responsible for the death of Facino. It was simply that Facino's death -created a situation only to be met by the destruction of the Duke. And -this situation the Duke himself had been at such hideous pains to bring -about. -</p> -<p> -And so, briefly to recapitulate here a page of Visconti history, it came -to pass that on the Monday morning, which was the first day of the -Litany of May, as Gian Maria, gaily clad in his colours of red and -white, was issuing from his bedroom to repair to Mass in the Church of -San Gotthard, he found in the antechamber a score of gentlemen not -latterly seen about his court. Mantegazza, who had command of the -entrance, was responsible for their presence. -</p> -<p> -Before the Duke could comment upon this unusual attendance, perhaps -before he had well observed it, three of them were upon him. -</p> -<p> -'This from the Pusterla!' cried Venegono, and with his dagger clove the -Duke's brow, slaying him instantly. Yet before he fell Andrea Bagio's -blade was buried in his right thigh, so that presently that -white-stockinged leg was as red as its fellow. -</p> -<p> -As a consequence, Bellarion reaching Milan at dusk that evening found -entrance denied him at the Ticinese Gate, which was held by Paolo del -Bagio with a strong following of men-at-arms. Not until he had disclosed -himself for Facino's lieutenant was he admitted and informed of what had -taken place. -</p> -<p> -The irony of the event provoked in him a terrible mirth. -</p> -<p> -'Poor purblind fool,' was his comment. 'He never guessed when he was -torturing Mombelli that he was torturing him into signing his own -death-warrant.' That, and the laugh with which he rode on into the city, -left Bagio wondering whether his wits had turned. -</p> -<p> -He rode through streets in uproar, where almost every man he met was -armed. Before the broken door of a half-shattered house hung some -revolting bleeding rags, what once had been a man. These were all that -remained of Squarcia Giramo, the infamous kennel-master who had been -torn into pieces that day by the mob, and finally hung there before his -dwelling which on the morrow was to be razed to the ground. -</p> -<p> -He came to the Old Broletto and the Church of Saint Gotthard, and paused -there to survey the Duke's body where it lay under an apronful of roses -which had been cast upon it by a harlot. Thence he repaired to the -stables of the palace, and by making himself known procured a fresh -horse. On this he made his way through the ever-increasing tumult of the -streets, back to the Ticinese Gate, and he was away through the darkness -to cover for the second time that day the twenty miles that lie between -Milan and Pavia. -</p> -<p> -It was past midnight when, so jaded that he kept his feet by a sheer -effort of the will, he staggered into Filippo Maria's bedchamber, -ushered by the servant who had preceded him to rouse the Prince. -</p> -<p> -Filippo Maria sat up in bed, blinking in the candlelight, at that tall, -swaying figure that was almost entirely clothed in mud. -</p> -<p> -'Is that you, Lord Bellarion? You will have heard that Facino is -dead—God rest his soul!' -</p> -<p> -A harsh, croaking voice made him answer! 'Aye, and avenged, Lord Duke.' -</p> -<p> -A quiver crossed the pale fat face under its sleek black cap of hair. -The coarse lips parted. 'Lord ... Lord Duke ... you said?' The -high-pitched voice was awe-stricken. -</p> -<p> -'Your brother Gian Maria is dead, my lord, and you are Duke of Milan.' -</p> -<p> -'Duke of Milan? I am ...?' The grotesque young face showed bewilderment, -confusion, fear. 'And Gian Maria ... Dead, do you say?' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion did not mince matters. 'He was despatched to hell this morning -by some gentlemen in Milan.' -</p> -<p> -'Jesus-Mary!' croaked the Prince, and fell to trembling. 'Murdered ... -And you ...?' He heaved himself higher in the bed with one arm, whilst -he flung out the other in accusation. He did not love his brother. He -profited greatly by his death. But a Visconti does not permit that -others shall lay hands on a Visconti. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion laughed oddly. He had been forestalled. Perhaps it was as -well. No need now to speak of his intentions. -</p> -<p> -'He was slain on his way to Mass this morning, at just about the hour -that I arrived here from Bergamo.' -</p> -<p> -The accusing arm fell heavily to the Prince's obese flank. The beady, -lack-lustre eyes still peered at the young condottiero. -</p> -<p> -'Almost I thought ... And Giannino is dead ... murdered! God rest him!' -The phrase was mechanical. 'Tell me about it.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion recited what he knew, then staggered out, on the arm of the -servant who was to conduct him to the room prepared for him. -</p> -<p> -'What a world! What a dunghill!' he muttered as he went. 'And how well -the old abbot knows it. <i>Pax multa in cella, foris autem plurima -bella</i>!' -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap06_III"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER VI -<br /><br /> -THE INHERITANCE</h4> - -<p> -Facino Cane, Count of Biandrate, Lord of Novara, Dertona, Varese, -Rosate, Valsassina, and of all the lands on Lake Maggiore as far as -Vogogna, was buried with great pomp in the Church of San Pietro in Ciel -d'Oro. -</p> -<p> -His chief mourners were his captains summoned from Bergamo to do that -last honour to their departed leader. At their head, as mourner in -chief, walked Facino's adoptive son Bellarion Cane, Count of Gavi. The -others included Francesco Busone of Carmagnola, Giorgio Valperga, -Nicolino Marsalia, Werner von Stoffel, and Vaugeois the Burgundian. -</p> -<p> -Koenigshofen and the Piedmontese Giasone Trotta were absent, having -remained at Bergamo with the army. -</p> -<p> -Thereafter the captains assembled in the Hall of Mirrors to hear the -will and last instructions of Facino. To read them came Facino's -secretary, accompanied by the Pavese notary who had drawn up the -testament three days ago. Thither also came the Countess robed entirely -in black and heavily veiled. -</p> -<p> -The rich and important fief of Valsassina was now disclosed to have been -left by Facino to his adoptive son Bellarion, 'in earnest of my love and -to recompense his loyalty and worth.' Apart from that and a legacy in -money for Carmagnola, the whole of his vast territorial possessions of -cities, lands, and fortresses—mostly acquired since he had been -deposed in favour of Malatesta—besides the enormous sum of four -hundred thousand ducats, were all bequeathed to his widow. He expressed -the wish that Bellarion should succeed him in the command of his -condotta, and reminding his other captains that strength lies in unity -he recommended them to remain united under Bellarion's leadership, at -least until the task of restoring order to the duchy should be -fulfilled. To his captains also he recommended his widow, putting it -upon them to see her firmly established in the dominions he bequeathed -to her. -</p> -<p> -When the reading was done, the captains rose in their places and turned -to Madonna Beatrice where she sat like an ebony statue at the table's -head. Carmagnola, ever theatrical, ever a man of attitudes, drew his -sword with a flourish and laid it on the board. -</p> -<p> -'Madonna, to you I surrender the authority I held under my Lord Facino, -and I leave it in your hands until such time as it shall please you to -reinvest me in it.' -</p> -<p> -The ceremonious gesture caught the fancy of the others. Valperga -followed the example instantly, and presently five swords lay naked on -the oak. To these, Bellarion, after a moment, a little scornful of this -ritual, as he was of all unnecessary displays, added his own. -</p> -<p> -The Countess rose. She thanked them in a voice that shook with emotion, -and one by one restored their weapons to them, naming each as she did -so. Bellarion's, however, she left upon the board, wherefore Bellarion, -wondering a little, remained when she dismissed the others. -</p> -<p> -Slowly then she resumed her seat. Slowly she raised and threw back her -veil, disclosing a face, which beyond a deeper pallor resulting, -perhaps, from contrast with her sable raiment, showed little trace of -grief. Her feline eyes considered him, a little frown between their fine -black brows. -</p> -<p> -'You were the last to offer me that homage, Bellarion.' Her voice was -slow and softly attuned. 'Why did you hesitate? Are you reluctant?' -</p> -<p> -'It was a gesture, madonna, that becomes the Carmagnolas of this world. -Sincerity requires no symbols, and it was only at the symbol that I -boggled. My service and my life are unreservedly at your command.' -</p> -<p> -There was a pause. Her eyes continued to ponder him. 'Take up your -sword,' she said at last. -</p> -<p> -He moved to do so, and then checked. 'Yourself you restored theirs to -the others.' -</p> -<p> -'The others are not as you. Upon you has fallen the mantle of Facino. -How much of that mantle will you wear, Bellarion?' -</p> -<p> -'As much of it as my lord intended. You have heard his testament, -madonna.' -</p> -<p> -'But not your own interpretation of it.' -</p> -<p> -'Have I not said that my life and services are at your command, as my -lord, to whom I owe everything, enjoined upon me?' -</p> -<p> -'Your life and services,' she said slowly. Her breast heaved as if in -repressed agitation. 'That is much to offer, Bellarion. Do you ask -nothing in return?' -</p> -<p> -'I offer these in return for all that I have received already. It is I -who make payment, madonna.' -</p> -<p> -Again there was a baffled pause. She sighed heavily. 'You make it hard -for me, Bellarion.' There was a pathetic break in her voice. -</p> -<p> -'What do I make hard?' -</p> -<p> -She rose, and in evident timidity came to stand before him. She set a -white hand on the black velvet sleeve of his tunic. Her lovely face, -with which time had dealt so mercifully, was upturned to his, and there -was now no arrogance in its lines or in her glance. She spoke quietly, -wistfully. -</p> -<p> -'You may think, Bellarion, that with my lord scarce buried this is not -the hour for ... what I have to say. And yet, by the very fact of my -lord's death and by the very terms of his testament, this is the hour, -because it must be the hour of decision. Here and now we must determine -what is to follow.' -</p> -<p> -Tall and coldly stern he stood, looking down upon her who swayed a -little there, so close to him that his nostrils were invaded by the -subtle essences she used. -</p> -<p> -'I await your commands, madonna.' -</p> -<p> -'My commands? My commands? Dear God! What commands have I for you?' She -looked away for an instant, then brought her eyes back to his face and -her other hand to his other sleeve, so that she held him completely -captive now. A faint colour stirred in the pale cheeks. 'My lord has -left me great possessions. They might serve as a footstool to help you -mount to a great destiny.' -</p> -<p> -A little smile hovered about his lips as he looked down upon her who -waited so breathlessly, her breast now touching his own. -</p> -<p> -'You are offering me ...' he said, and stopped. -</p> -<p> -'Can you be in doubt of what I am offering? It is the hour of great -decisions, Bellarion, for me and for you.' Closer she pressed, so that -her weight was against him. She was deathly pale again, her eyes were -veiled. 'In unity is strength. That was Facino's last reminder to us. -And in what unity could there be greater strength than in ours? Facino's -army, the strongest that ever followed him, is solidly behind us so that -we stand together. With that and my resources you need set no bounds to -your ambition. You may be Duke of Milan if you will. You may even -realise Galeazzo's dream and make yourself King of Italy.' -</p> -<p> -His hovering smile settled and deepened. But the dark eyes grew sad. -</p> -<p> -'The world and you have never suspected,' he said gently, 'that I am not -really ambitious. You have witnessed my rise in four short years from a -poor nameless, starveling scholar to knighthood, lordships, wealth, and -fame; and, therefore, you imagine that I am one who has striven for the -bounties of Fortune. It is not so, madonna. I have laboured for ends -that are nowise bound up with the hope of any of these rewards, which I -hold cheap. They are hollow vanities, empty bubbles, gewgaws to delight -the children of the world. Possessions come to me, titles, honours, -which deceive me no more than I desired them.' -</p> -<p> -She drew away from him a little, and looked at him almost in awe. 'God! -You talk like a monk!' -</p> -<p> -'It is possible that I think like one, and very natural remembering how -I was nurtured. There is one task, one purpose which has detained me in -this world of men. When that is accomplished, I think I shall go back to -the cell where there is peace.' -</p> -<p> -'You!' Her hands had fallen from his arms. She gasped now in her -amazement. 'With the world at your feet if you choose! To renounce all? -To go back to the chill loneliness and joylessness of monkhood? -Bellarion, you are mad.' -</p> -<p> -'Or else sane, madonna. Who shall judge?' -</p> -<p> -'And love, Bellarion? Is there no love in the world? Does that not lend -reality to all these things that you deem shams?' -</p> -<p> -'Does it heal the vanity of the world?' he cried. 'It is a great power, -as I perceive. For love men will go mad, they will become beasts: they -will murder and betray.' -</p> -<p> -'Heretic!' -</p> -<p> -That startled him a little. Once before he had been dubbed heretic for -beliefs to which he clung with assurance; and experience had come to lay -bare his heresy to his own eyes. -</p> -<p> -'Upon occasion, madonna, we have talked of love, you and I. Had I given -heed, had your beauty beglamoured me, what a treacherous thing should I -not have been in Facino's eyes! Do you wonder that I mistrust love as I -mistrust all else the world can offer me?' -</p> -<p> -'While Facino lived, that ...' She broke off. Her eyes were on the -ground, her hands now folded in her lap. She had drawn away from him a -little and leaned against the table's edge. 'Now ...' She parted her -hands and held them out, leaving him to guess her mind. -</p> -<p> -'Now his behests are upon me, and they shall be obeyed as if he still -lived.' -</p> -<p> -'What is there in his behests against ... against what I was offering? -Am I not commended to you by his testament? Am I not a part of his -legacy to you?' -</p> -<p> -'The service of you is; and your loyal servant, madonna, you shall ever -find me.' She turned aside with a little gesture of irritation, and -remained silent, thoughtful. -</p> -<p> -A sleek secretary broke in upon them. The Count of Pavia commanded the -Lord Bellarion's presence in the library. A courier had just arrived -from Milan with grave news. -</p> -<p> -'Say to his highness that I come.' -</p> -<p> -The secretary withdrew. -</p> -<p> -'You give me leave, madonna?' -</p> -<p> -She stood leaning sideways against the heavy table, her face averted. -'Aye, you may go.' Her voice rasped. -</p> -<p> -But he waited yet a moment. 'The sword, madonna? Will you not arm me -with your own hands for your service?' -</p> -<p> -She turned her head to look at him again, and there was now a curl of -disdain on her pale lips. -</p> -<p> -'I thought you looked askance on symbols. Was not that your profession?' -She paused, but, without waiting for his answer, added: 'Take up your -sword, yourself, you that are so fully master of your own destinies.' -</p> -<p> -And on that she turned and went, trailing her funereal draperies over -the gay mosaics of that patterned floor. -</p> -<p> -He remained where she left him until she had passed out of that great -hall and the door had closed. Then, at last, he fetched a sigh and went -to restore his blade to its scabbard. -</p> -<p> -His thoughts were on Facino hardly cold in the grave, on this widow who -had so shamelessly wooed him, yet in terms which demanded as a condition -the satisfaction of her inordinate ambition; and lastly on that obese -young Prince who waited for him. And in the mirror of his mind he saw a -reflection of a scene now some months old. He saw again the glance of -those beady, lecherous eyes lambent about Facino's Countess. -</p> -<p> -Inspiration came to him of how best he might gratify her vast ambition, -her greed of greatness. Her suggestion to him had been that he should -make her Duchess of Milan, and Duchess of Milan he would make her yet. -</p> -<p> -On that half-ironic thought he came to the library where the Prince -waited. Filippo Maria was seated at a table near one of the windows. -Spread before him were some parchments, writing-materials, and a horn of -unicorn that was almost a yard long, of solid ivory, one of the -library's most treasured possessions. -</p> -<p> -The Prince was more than usually pallid, his glance unsteady, his manner -nervous and agitated. Perfunctorily he made the inquiries concerning the -obsequies of Facino which courtesy demanded. He reiterated excuses -already made for his own absence from the ceremony, an absence really -based on resentment of the yoke which Facino had imposed upon him. That -done, he picked up a parchment from the table. -</p> -<p> -'Here's news,' he said, and his voice trembled. 'Estorre Visconti has -been created Duke of Milan.' He paused, and the little dark eyes blinked -up at the tall Bellarion standing composed at his side. 'You knew -already?' -</p> -<p> -'Not so, highness.' -</p> -<p> -'And you show no surprise?' -</p> -<p> -'It is a bold step, and it may cost Messer Estorre his head. But it was -to be expected from what had gone before.' -</p> -<p> -The beady eyes returned to the parchment, which shook in the podgy -fingers. -</p> -<p> -'Fra Berto Caccia, the Bishop of Piacenza, preached a sermon to the -people lauding the murder of my brother, and promising in Estorre's name -a Golden Age for Milan, with immunity from taxation. Thereupon they laid -at his bastard feet the keys of the city, the standard of the republic, -and the ducal sceptre.' He dropped the parchment, and sat back folding -plump, white hands across his paunch. 'This calls for action, speedily.' -</p> -<p> -'We can provide action enough to surfeit Messer Estorre.' -</p> -<p> -'Ha!' The great flabby face grew almost kindly, the little eyes beamed -upon the condottiero. 'Serve me well in this, Bellarion, and you shall -know gratitude.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion's gesture seemed to wave the notion of reward aside. He came -straight to facts. 'We can withdraw eight thousand men from Bergamo. The -place is at the point of surrender, and four thousand will well suffice -to tighten the last grip upon the Malatesta vitals. Perhaps the Lord -Estorre has not included that in his calculations. With eight thousand -men we can sweep him out of Milan at our pleasure.' -</p> -<p> -'And you'll give orders? You'll give orders at once? The army, they tell -me, is now in your control. Facino's authority has descended to you, and -has been accepted by your brother captains.' -</p> -<p> -And now this arch-dissembler went to work. -</p> -<p> -'Hardly so much, highness. Facino's captains have sworn fealty, not to -me, but to the Lady Beatrice.' -</p> -<p> -'But ... But you, then?' The news dismayed him a little. 'What place is -yours?' -</p> -<p> -'At your highness's side, if your highness commands me.' -</p> -<p> -'Yes, yes. But whom do you command? Where, exactly, do you stand now?' -</p> -<p> -'At the head of the army in any enterprise into which the Countess sends -her captains.' -</p> -<p> -'The Countess?' The Prince shifted his bulk uneasily in his chair, -slewing round so as to face the soldier more fully. 'What then if ... -What if the Countess should not ...' He waved his fat hands helplessly. -</p> -<p> -'It is not likely that the Countess should oppose your own wishes, -highness.' -</p> -<p> -'Not likely? But—Lord of Heaven!—it's possible.' He heaved -himself up, nervous, agitated. 'I must know. I must ... I'll send for her.' -He reached for a hand-bell on the table. -</p> -<p> -But Bellarion's hand closed over his own before he could ring. -</p> -<p> -'A moment, Lord Prince. Before you send for the Lady Beatrice, had you -not best consider precisely what you will say to her?' -</p> -<p> -'What is to say beyond discovering her disposition towards me.' -</p> -<p> -'Can you entertain a doubt upon that, Lord Prince?' Bellarion was -smiling. Their hands came away together from the bell, and fell apart. -'Her disposition towards your potency is, to my knowledge, of the very -kindliest. Such, indeed, that—I'll be frank with you—I found it -necessary once to remind her of her duty to her lord.' -</p> -<p> -'Ah!' The fat pale face quivered into something akin to malevolence. The -Prince remembered a sudden coolness in the Countess and her removal to -Melegnano, and perceived in this meddler's confession the explanation of -it. 'By Saint Ambrose, that was bold of you!' -</p> -<p> -'I am accounted bold,' Bellarion reminded him, deeming it necessary. -</p> -<p> -'Aye, aye!' The shifty eyes fell away uncomfortably under his glance. -'But if she is kindly disposed, then ...' -</p> -<p> -'I know that she was, highness, and may be rendered so again. Though -perhaps less easily now than heretofore.' -</p> -<p> -'Less easily? Why so?' -</p> -<p> -'As Facino's widow, she is in wealth and power the equal of many a -prince in Italy. She has considerable dominions ...' -</p> -<p> -'Torn by Facino from the great heritage left by the Duke my father.' In -that rare burst of indignation his whole bulk quivered like a great -jelly. -</p> -<p> -'They might be restored to the ducal crown by peaceful arts.' -</p> -<p> -'Peaceful arts? What arts? Will you be plain?' -</p> -<p> -But the time for direct answers was not yet. 'And not only has the -Countess lands, but the control of a vast fortune. Some four hundred -thousand ducats. You will need money, highness, for the pay of this -great army now under Bergamo, and your own treasury will hardly supply -it. There is taxation. But your highness knows the ills that wait on -that for a prince newly come into his own. And not only the lands and -money of which your highness stands in need, but the men also does the -Countess bring.' -</p> -<p> -'You but repeat yourself.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion looked at him, and smiled. Never, do I believe, did a Prince -find a bride more richly dowered.' -</p> -<p> -'A bride?' The youth was startled, terrified almost. 'A bride?' -</p> -<p> -'Would less content your highness? Would you be satisfied to receive the -assistance of the Countess's possessions, when you may make them your -own and wield them at your pleasure?' -</p> -<p> -He stared, his jaw fallen. Then slowly he brought his lips together -again, and licked them thoughtfully, screwing up his mean eyes. -</p> -<p> -'You are proposing that I should take to wife Facino's widow, who is -twice my age?' He asked the question very slowly, as if pondering each -word of it. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion laughed. 'Not proposing it, highness. It is not for me to make -such proposals. I do not even know what the lady will say. But if she is -willing to become Duchess of Milan, she can provide the means to make -you Duke.' -</p> -<p> -Filippo Maria sat down suddenly. The sweat broke from his pale brow. He -mopped it with his hand, disturbing the black fringe that disfigured it. -Then, lost in thought, he stroked the loose folds of his enormous chin, -and gradually his eyes kindled. -</p> -<p> -At long length he put forth his hand again to the bell. This time -Bellarion did not interfere. He perceived in the act the young Prince's -surrender to the forces of greed and lust which Bellarion himself had -loosed against him. -</p> -<p> -He took his leave, and went out with the sad knowledge that greed and -wantonness would make of the woman, too, a ready prey. -</p> -<p> -His work was done. She should have the thing she coveted, and find in it -her punishment ... -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap07_III"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER VII -<br /><br /> -PRINCE OF VALSASSINA</h4> - -<p> -As Bellarion had calculated and disposed, so things fell out, and -Filippo Maria Visconti in the twenty-second year of his age led to the -altar the widowed Countess of Biandrate who was thirty-nine. As a young -girl, she had married, at the bidding of ambition, a man who was twenty -years her senior; as a middle-aged woman now, and for the same reason, -she married one who was almost as much her junior. She had not the -foresight to perceive that the grievance on the score of disparity of -years which she had nursed against Facino would be nursed against -herself to her ultimate destruction by this sly, furtive, and cruel -Prince to whom now she gave herself and her vast possessions. That, -however, is no part of the story I have set myself to tell. -</p> -<p> -Estorre Visconti defended in vain his usurped dominion against Gian -Maria's legitimate successor. Filippo Maria, with Carmagnola in command -of some seven thousand men, laid siege to Milan, whilst Bellarion went -north to make an end of the Bergamo resistance. Because in haste to have -done, he granted Malatesta easy terms of surrender, permitting him to -ride out of the city with the honours of war, lance on thigh. -Thereafter, having restored order in Bergamo and left there a strong -garrison under an officer of trust, he marched with the main army to -join Filippo Maria who was conducting operations from the mills on Monte -Lupario, three miles from Milan. Some four weeks already had he spent -there, with little progress made. Estorre had enrolled and constrained -to the defence of the city almost every man of an age to bear arms. It -was necessary to make an end, and Bellarion himself with a few followers -entered the Castle of Porta Giovia which was being held against Estorre -by Vimercati, the castellan. From its walls, having attracted the people -by trumpet-blast, he published Filippo Maria's proclamation, wherein the -Prince solemnly undertook that if the city were at once surrendered to -him it should have nothing to fear; that there should be no pillage, -executions, or other measures punitive of this resistance to the State's -legitimate lord. -</p> -<p> -The news flew in every direction, with the result that before nightfall -all those whom Estorre had constrained to follow him had fallen away, -and he was left with only his mercenaries. With these, next morning, he -hacked a way out through the Comasina Gate as the people were throwing -open to the new Duke the gates of the city on the other side. -</p> -<p> -Filippo Maria entered with a comparatively small following and in the -wake of a train of bread-carts sent ahead to relieve the famine which -already was beginning to press upon the inhabitants. The acclamations of -'Live the Duke!' quieted his natural timidity as he rode through the -streets to shut himself up in the Castle of Porta Giovia, which remained -ever afterwards his residence. Not for Filippo Maria the Palace of the -Old Broletto or the gaiety of courts. His dark, scheming, yet -pusillanimous nature craved the security of a stronghold. -</p> -<p> -For assisting him to the ducal throne, and no doubt to ensure their -continued support, he rewarded his captains generously, and none more -generously than Bellarion to whom he considered that he owed everything. -Bellarion was not only confirmed in the lordship of Valsassina in feud, -for himself and his heirs forever, but the Duke raised the fief into a -principality. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion remained the Duke's marshal in chief and military adviser, and -it was by the dispositions which he made during that summer and autumn -of 1412 that the lands of the duchy were finally cleared of the -insurgent brigands who had renewed their depredations. -</p> -<p> -Peace being restored at home, and industry being liberated at last from -the trammels that had lain upon it since the death of Gian Galeazzo, -prosperity flowed swiftly back to the State of Milan, and the people -heaped blessings upon the shy, furtive ruler of whom they saw so little. -</p> -<p> -It is possible that Filippo Maria would have been content to rest for -the present upon what was done, to leave the frontiers of the duchy as -he found them, and to dismiss the greater part of the costly condottas -in his employ. But Bellarion at his elbow goaded him to further -enterprise, and met his sluggish reluctance with a culminating argument -that shamed him into action. -</p> -<p> -'Will you leave, in tranquil possession, the brigands who have -encroached upon the glorious patrimony built up by your illustrious -father? Will you dishonour his memory and be false to your name, Lord -Duke?' -</p> -<p> -Thus, and similarly, Bellarion, with a heat that was purely histrionic. -He cared no more for the integrity of Gian Galeazzo's patrimony than he -cared for that of the Kingdom of England. What he cared for was that the -order to dispossess those tyrants would sound the knell of Theodore of -Montferrat. Thus, at last, should he be enabled to complete the service, -to which five years ago he had dedicated himself, and to which -unfalteringly, if obscurely and tortuously, he had held. Very patiently -had he waited for this hour, when, yielding at last to his bold -importunities, the Duke summoned a council of the officers of State and -the chief condottieri to determine the order in which action should be -taken. -</p> -<p> -At once Bellarion urged that a beginning should be made by recovering -Vercelli, than which few strongholds were of more importance to the -safety of the duchy. -</p> -<p> -It provoked a protest from Beccarla, who was the Duke's Minister of -State. -</p> -<p> -'An odd proposal this from you, Lord Bellarion, remembering that it was -by your own action in concert with the Count of Biandrate that the -Marquis Theodore was placed in possession of Vercelli.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion crushed him with his logic. 'Not odd, sir, natural. Then I was -on the other side. And if, being on the other side, I conceived it -important that Theodore should hold Vercelli, now that I am opposed to -him I conceive it equally important that he should be driven from it.' -</p> -<p> -There was a pause. Filippo Maria, somnolent in his great chair, looked -round the group. 'What is the military view?' he asked. He had noticed -that not one of the captains had voiced an opinion. He was answered now -by the burly Koenigshofen. -</p> -<p> -'I have no views that are not Bellarion's. I have followed him long -enough to know that he's a safe man to follow.' -</p> -<p> -Giasone Trotta, uninvited, expressed the same sentiment. Filippo Maria -turned to Carmagnola, who sat silent and thoughtful. -</p> -<p> -'And you, sir?' he asked. -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola reared his blond head, and Bellarion braced himself for -battle. But to his amazement, for once—for the first time in their -long association—Carmagnola was on his side. -</p> -<p> -'I am of Bellarion's mind, magnificent. We who were with my Lord Facino -when he made alliance with Theodore of Montferrat know Theodore for a -crafty, daring man of boundless ambition. His occupation of Vercelli is -a menace to the peace of the duchy.' -</p> -<p> -After that the other captains, Valperga and Marsilio, who had been -wavering, threw in their votes, so that the military opinion was solidly -unanimous. -</p> -<p> -Filippo Maria balanced the matter for a moment. -</p> -<p> -'You are not forgetting, sirs, that for Theodore's good behaviour I have -in my hands a precious hostage, in the person of his nephew, the Marquis -Gian Giacomo, in whose name Theodore rules. You laugh, Bellarion!' -</p> -<p> -'That hostage was procured to ensure, not the good faith of Theodore, -but the safety of the real Prince of Montferrat. Carmagnola has told -your magnificence that Theodore is crafty, daring, and ambitious. It is -a part of his ambition to make himself absolute sovereign where at -present he is no more than Regent. Let your magnificence judge if the -thought of harm to the hostage you hold would be a deterrent to him.' -</p> -<p> -A while still they debated. Then Filippo Maria announced that he would -take thought and make known his decision when it was reached. On that he -dismissed them. -</p> -<p> -As they went from the council chamber the captains witnessed the -phenomenon of a yet closer unity between Bellarion and Carmagnola. The -new Prince of Valsassina linked arms with Francesco Busone, and drew him -away. -</p> -<p> -'You will do a service in this matter, Ser Francesco, if you send word -to Lady Valeria and her brother urging them to come at once to Milan and -petition the Duke to place Gian Giacomo upon his throne. He is of full -age, and only his absence from Montferrat enables Theodore to continue -in the Regency.' -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola looked at him suspiciously. 'Why do you not send that -message, yourself?' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion shrugged and spread his hands a little. 'I have not the -confidence of the Princess. A message from me might be mistrusted.' -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola's fine blue eyes pondered him still with that suspicious -glance. 'What game do you play?' he asked. -</p> -<p> -'I see that you mistrust me, too.' -</p> -<p> -'I ever have done.' -</p> -<p> -'It's a compliment,' said Bellarion. -</p> -<p> -'If it is, I don't perceive it.' -</p> -<p> -'If you did, you wouldn't pay it. You are direct, Carmagnola; and for -that I honour you. I am not direct, and yet you may come to honour me -for that too when you understand it, if you ever do. You ask what game I -play. A game which began long ago, in which this is the last move. The -alliance I brought about between Facino and Theodore was a move in this -game; the securing of the person of Gian Giacomo of Montferrat as a -hostage was another; to make it possible for Theodore to occupy Vercelli -and make himself Lord of Genoa, yet another. My only aim was to unbridle -his greed so that he should become a menace to the duchy, against such a -day as this, when on the Duke's side it is my duty to advise his -definite destruction.' -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola's eyes were wide, amazement overspread his florid handsome -face. -</p> -<p> -'By the bones of Saint Ambrose, you play mighty deep!' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion smiled. 'I am frank with you. I explain myself. It is tedious -but necessary so as to conquer your mistrust and procure your -cooperation.' -</p> -<p> -'To make me a pawn in this game of yours?' -</p> -<p> -'That is to describe yourself unflatteringly. Francesco Busone of -Carmagnola is no man's pawn.' -</p> -<p> -'No, by God! I am glad you perceive that.' -</p> -<p> -'Should I have explained myself if I did not?' said Bellarion to assure -him of a fact of which clearly he was far from sure. -</p> -<p> -'Tell me why you so schemed and plotted?' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion sighed. 'To amuse myself, perhaps. It interests me. Facino -said of me that I was a natural strategist. This broader strategy upon -the great field of life gives scope to my inclinations.' He was -thoughtful, chin in hand. 'I do not think there is more in it than -that.' And abruptly he asked: 'You'll send that message?' -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola too considered. There was a dream that he had dreamed, a game -that he could play, making in his turn a pawn of this crafty brother -captain who sought to make a pawn of him. -</p> -<p> -'I'll go to Melegnano in person,' he announced. -</p> -<p> -He went, and there dispelled the fretful suspense in which the Princess -Valeria waited for a justice of which she almost despaired. -</p> -<p> -He dealt in that directness which was the only thing Bellarion found to -honour in him. But the directness now was in his manner only. -</p> -<p> -'Lady, I come to bid you take a hand in your own and your brother's -reinstatement. Your petition to the Duke is all that is needed now to -persuade him to the step which I have urged; to march against the -usurper Theodore and cast him out. -</p> -<p> -It took her breath away. 'You have urged this! You, my lord? Let me send -for my brother that he may thank you, that he may know that he has at -least one stout brave friend in the world.' -</p> -<p> -'His friend and your servant, madonna.' He bore her white hand to his -lips, and there were tears in her eyes as she looked upon his bowed -handsome head. 'My hopes, my plans, my schemes for you are to bear fruit -at last.' -</p> -<p> -'Your schemes for me?' -</p> -<p> -Her brows were knit over her moist dark eyes. He laughed. A jovial, -debonair, and laughter-loving gentleman, this Francesco Busone of -Carmagnola. -</p> -<p> -'So as to provide a cause disposing the Duke of Milan to proceed against -the Regent Theodore. The hour has come, madonna. It needs but your -petition to Filippo Maria, and the army marches. So that I command it, I -will see justice done to your brother.' -</p> -<p> -'So that you command it? Who else should?' Carmagnola's bright face was -overcast. 'There is Bellarion Cane.' -</p> -<p> -'That knave!' She recoiled, her countenance troubled. 'He is the -Regent's man. It was he who helped the Regent to Vercelli and to the -lordship of Genoa.' -</p> -<p> -'Which he never could have done,' Carmagnola assured her, 'but that I -abetted him. I saw that thus I should provide a reason for action -against the Regent when later I should come to be on the Duke's side.' -</p> -<p> -'Ah! That was shrewd! To feed his ambition until he overreached -himself.' -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola strutted a little. 'It was a deep game. But we are at the -last move in it. If you mistrust this Bellarion ...' -</p> -<p> -'Mistrust him!' She laughed a bitter little laugh, and she poured forth -the tale of how once he had been a spy sent by Theodore to embroil her, -and how thereafter he had murdered her one true and devoted friend Count -Spigno. -</p> -<p> -Feeding her mistrust and bringing Gian Giacomo fully to share it, -Carmagnola conducted them to Milan and procured audience for them with -the Duke. -</p> -<p> -Filippo Maria received her in a small room in the very heart of the -fortress, a room to which he had brought something of the atmosphere of -his library at Pavia. Here were the choicely bound manuscripts, and the -writing-table with its sheaves of parchment, and its horn of unicorn, -which as all the world knows is a prophylactic against all manner of -ills of the flesh and the spirit. Its double window looked out upon the -court of San Donato where the October sunshine warmed the red brick to -the colour of the rose. -</p> -<p> -He gave her a kindly welcome, then settled into the inscrutable inertia -of an obese Eastern idol whilst she made her prayer to him. -</p> -<p> -When it was done he nodded slowly, and despatched his secretary in quest -of the Prince of Valsassina. The name conveyed nothing to her, for she -had not heard of Bellarion's latest dignity. -</p> -<p> -'You shall have my decision later, madonna. It is almost made already, -and in the direction you desire. When I have conferred with the Prince -of Valsassina upon the means at our command, I will send for you again. -Meanwhile the Lord of Carmagnola will conduct you and your brother to my -Duchess, whom it will delight to care for you.' He cleared his throat. -'You have leave to go,' he added in his shrill voice. -</p> -<p> -They bowed, and were departing, when the returning secretary, opening -the door, and holding up the arras that masked it, announced: 'The -Prince of Valsassina.' -</p> -<p> -He came in erect and proud of bearing, for all that he still limped a -little. His tunic was of black velvet edged with dark brown fur, a heavy -gold chain hung upon his breast, a girdle of beaten gold gripped his -loins and carried his stout dagger. His hose were in white and blue -stripes. -</p> -<p> -From the threshold he bowed low to the Prince and then to Madonna -Valeria, who was staring at him in sudden panic. -</p> -<p> -She curtsied to him almost despite herself, and then made haste to -depart with Carmagnola and her brother. But there was a weight of lead -in her breast. If action against Theodore depended upon this man's -counsel, what hope remained? She put that question to Carmagnola. He -quieted her fears. -</p> -<p> -'After all, he is not omnipotent. Our fealty is not to him, but to the -Duchess Beatrice. Win her to your side, and things will shape the course -you desire, especially if I command the enterprise.' -</p> -<p> -And meanwhile this man whom she mistrusted was closeted with the Duke, -and the Duke was informing him of this new factor in their plans against -Montferrat. -</p> -<p> -'She desires us to break a lance in her brother's behalf. But Montferrat -is loyal to Theodore. They have no opinion there of Gian Giacomo, and to -impose by force of arms a prince upon a people is perhaps to render that -people hostile to ourselves.' -</p> -<p> -'If that were so, and I confess that I do not share your potency's -apprehensions, it would still be the course I should presume to advise. -In Theodore you have a neighbour whom ambition makes dangerous. In Gian -Giacomo you have a mild and gentle youth, whose thoughts, since his -conversion from debauchery, turn rather to religion than to deeds of -arms. Place him upon the throne of his fathers, and you have in such a -man not only a friendly neighbour but a grateful servant.' -</p> -<p> -'Ha! You believe in gratitude, Bellarion?' -</p> -<p> -'I must, since I practise it.' -</p> -<p> -There followed that night a council of the captains, and since they were -still nominally regarded as in the service of Facino's widow, the -Duchess herself attended it, and since the fortunes of the legitimate -ruler of Montferrat was one of the issues, the Marquis Gian Giacomo and -his sister were also invited to be present. -</p> -<p> -The Duke, at the head of the long table, with the Duchess on his right -and Bellarion on his left, made known the intention to declare war -immediately upon the Regent of Montferrat upon two grounds: his -occupation of the Milanese stronghold and lands of Vercelli, and his -usurpation of the regency beyond the Marquis Gian Giacomo's attainment -of full age. Of his captains now he desired an account of the means at -their disposal, and afterwards a decision of those to be employed in the -undertaking. -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola came prepared with a computation of the probable forces which -Theodore could levy; and they were considerable; not less than five -thousand men. The necessary force to deal with him was next debated, -having regard also to certain other enterprises to which Milan was -elsewhere committed. At length this was fixed by Bellarion. It was to -consist of the Germans under Koenigshofen, Stoffel's Swiss, Giasone -Trotta's Italian mercenaries, and Marsilio's condotta, amounting in all -to some seven thousand men. That would leave free for other -eventualities the condottas of Valperga and of Carmagnola with whom were -Ercole Belluno and Ugolino da Tenda. -</p> -<p> -Against this, and on the plea that the Duke might require the services -of the Prince of Valsassina at home, Carmagnola begged that the -enterprise against Montferrat should be confided to his leadership, his -own condotta taking the place of Bellarion's, but all else remaining as -Bellarion disposed. -</p> -<p> -The Duke, showing in his pale face no sign of his surprise at this -request, looked from Carmagnola to Bellarion, appearing to ponder, what -time the Princess Valeria held her breath. -</p> -<p> -At length the Duke spoke. 'Have you anything to say to that, -Valsassina?' -</p> -<p> -'Nothing if your highness is content. You will remember that Theodore of -Montferrat is one of the most skilful captains of the day, and if this -business is not to drag on unduly, indeed if it is to be brought to a -successful issue, you would do well to send against him of your best.' -</p> -<p> -A sly smile broke upon that sinisterly placid countenance. -</p> -<p> -'By which you mean yourself.' -</p> -<p> -'For my part,' said Koenigshofen, 'I do not willingly march under -another.' -</p> -<p> -'And for mine,' said Stoffel, 'whilst Bellarion lives I do not march -under another at all.' -</p> -<p> -The Duke looked at Carmagnola. 'You hear, sir?' -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola flushed uncomfortably. 'I had set my heart upon the -enterprise, Lord Duke.' -</p> -<p> -The Princess Valeria interposed. 'By your leave, highness; does my vote -count for anything in this matter?' -</p> -<p> -'Assuredly, madonna. Your own and your brother's.' -</p> -<p> -'Then, Lord Duke, my vote, indeed my prayer, is that my Lord of -Carmagnola be given the command.' -</p> -<p> -The Duchess raised her long eyes to look at her in wonder. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion sat inscrutable. -</p> -<p> -The request wounded without surprising him. He knew her unconquerable -mistrust of him. He had hoped in the end which was now approaching to -prove to her its cruel injustice. But if occasion for that were denied -him, it would be no great matter. What signified was that her own aims -should be accomplished, and, after all, they were not beyond the -strength and skill of Carmagnola, who had his talents as a leader when -all was said. -</p> -<p> -The Duke's lack-lustre eyes were steadily upon Valeria. He spoke after a -pause. -</p> -<p> -'Almost you imply a doubt of the Prince of Valsassina's capacity.' -</p> -<p> -'Not of his capacity. Oh, not of that!' -</p> -<p> -'Of what, then?' -</p> -<p> -The question troubled her. She looked at her brother, and her brother -answered for her. -</p> -<p> -'My sister remembers that the Prince of Valsassina was once the Marquis -Theodore's friend.' -</p> -<p> -'Was he so? When was that?' The Duke looked at Bellarion, but it was -Gian Giacomo who answered the question. -</p> -<p> -'When, in alliance with him, he placed him in possession of Vercelli and -Genoa.' -</p> -<p> -'The alliance was the Lord Facino's, not Valsassina's. Bellarion served -under him. But so also did Carmagnola. Where is the difference between -them?' -</p> -<p> -'My Lord of Carmagnola acted then with a view to my brother's ultimate -service,' the Princess answered. 'If he was a party to the Marquis -Theodore's occupation of Vercelli, it was only so that in that act the -Marquis might provide a cause for the action that is now proposed -against him by the Duke of Milan.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion laughed softly at the light he suddenly perceived. -</p> -<p> -'Do you mock that statement, sir?' Carmagnola challenged him. 'Do you -dare to say what was in my mind at the time?' -</p> -<p> -'I have honoured you for directness, Carmagnola. But it seems you can be -subtle too.' -</p> -<p> -'Subtle!' Carmagnola flushed indignantly. 'In what have I been subtle?' -</p> -<p> -'In the spirit in which you favoured Theodore's occupation of Vercelli,' -said Bellarion, and so left him gaping foolishly. 'What else did you -think I had in mind?' He smiled almost ingenuously into the other's -face. -</p> -<p> -The Duke rapped the table. 'Sirs, sirs! We wander. And there is this -matter to resolve.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion answered him. -</p> -<p> -'Here, then, is a solution your highness may be disposed to adopt. -Instead of Valperga and his troops, I take with me Carmagnola and his -own condotta which is of a similar strength, and, like Valperga's, -mainly horse. Thus we march together, and share the enterprise.' -</p> -<p> -'But unless Bellarion commands it, Lord Duke, your highness will -graciously consider sending another condotta in the place of mine,' said -Koenigshofen, and Stoffel was about to add his own voice to that, when -the Duke losing patience broke in. -</p> -<p> -'Peace! Peace! I am Duke of Milan, and I give orders here. You are -summoned to advise, not to browbeat me and say what you will and will -not do. Let it be done as Valsassina says, since Carmagnola has set his -heart upon being in the campaign. But Valsassina leads the enterprise. -The matter is closed on that. You have leave to go.' -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap08_III"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER VIII -<br /><br /> -CARMAGNOLA'S BRIDGES</h4> - -<p> -Dissensions at the very outset between Carmagnola and Bellarion -protracted by some days the preparations for the departure of the army. -This enabled Theodore of Montferrat fully to make his dispositions for -resistance, to pack the granaries of Vercelli and otherwise victual it -for a siege, and to increase the strong body of troops already under his -hand, with which he threw himself into the menaced city. Further, by -working furiously during those October days, he was enabled to -strengthen his bastions and throw up fresh earthworks, from which to -shatter the onslaught when it should come. -</p> -<p> -Upon these very circumstances of which Bellarion and his captains were -duly informed followed fresh dissensions. Carmagnola advocated that -operations should be begun by the reduction of Mortara, which was being -held for Theodore, and which, if not seized before they marched upon -Vercelli, would constitute, he argued, a menace upon their rear. -Bellarion's view was that the menace was not sufficiently serious to -merit attention; that whilst they were reducing it, Theodore would -further be strengthening himself at Vercelli; and that, in short, they -should march straight upon Vercelli, depending that, when they forced it -to a capitulation, Mortara would thereby be scared into immediate -surrender. -</p> -<p> -Of the captains some held one view, some the other. Koenigshofen, -Stoffel, and Trotta took sides with Bellarion. Ercole Belluno, who -commanded the foot in Carmagnola's condotta, took sides with his leader -as did also Ugolino da Tenda who captained a thousand horse. Yet -Bellarion would have overruled them but for the Princess Valeria who -with her brother entered now into all their councils. These were on the -side of Carmagnola. Hence a compromise was effected. A detachment under -Koenigshofen including Trotta's troops was to go against Mortara, to -cover the rear of the main army proceeding to Vercelli. -</p> -<p> -To Vercelli that army, now not more than some four thousand strong, yet -strong enough in Bellarion's view for the task in hand, made at last a -speedy advance. But at Borgo Vercelli they were brought to a halt by the -fact that Theodore had blown up the bridge over the Sesia, leaving that -broad, deep, swift-flowing river between the enemy and the city which -was their goal. -</p> -<p> -At Carpignano, twenty miles higher up, there was a bridge which -Bellarion ascertained had been left standing. He announced that they -must avail themselves of that. -</p> -<p> -'Twenty miles there, and twenty miles back!' snorted Carmagnola. 'It is -too much. A weariness and a labour.' -</p> -<p> -'I'll not dispute it. But the alternative is to go by way of Casale, -which is even farther.' -</p> -<p> -'The alternative,' Carmagnola answered, 'is to bridge the Sesia and the -Cerva above their junction where the Sesia is narrower. Our lines of -communication with the army at Mortara should be as short as possible.' -</p> -<p> -'You begin to perceive one of the disadvantages of having left that army -at Mortara.' -</p> -<p> -'It is no disadvantage if we make proper provision.' -</p> -<p> -'And you think that your bridges will afford that provision.' -Bellarion's manner was almost supercilious. -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola resented it. 'Can you deny it?' -</p> -<p> -'I can do more. I can foresee what will happen. Sometimes, Francesco, -you leave me wondering where you learnt the art of war, or how ever you -came to engage in it.' -</p> -<p> -They held their discussion in the kitchen of a peasant's house which for -the Princess Valeria's sake they had invaded. And the Princess and her -brother were its only witnesses. When Carmagnola now moved wrathfully in -great strides about the dingy chamber, stamping upon the earthen floor -and waving his arms as he began to storm, one of those witnesses became -an actor to calm him. The Princess Valeria laid a hand upon one of those -waving arms in its gorgeous sleeve of gold-embroidered scarlet. -</p> -<p> -'Do not heed his taunts, Messer Carmagnola. You have my utter trust and -confidence. It is my wish that you should build your bridges.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion tilted his chin to look at her between anger and amusement. -</p> -<p> -'If you are to take command, highness, I'll say no more.' He bowed, and -went out. -</p> -<p> -'One of these days I shall give that upstart dog a lesson in good -manners,' said Carmagnola between his teeth. -</p> -<p> -The Princess shook her head. -</p> -<p> -'It is not his manners, sir, that trouble me; but his possible aims. If -I could trust him ...' -</p> -<p> -'If you could trust his loyalty, you should still mistrust his skill.' -</p> -<p> -'Yet he has won great repute as a soldier,' put in Gian Giacomo, who -instinctively mistrusted the thrasonical airs of the swaggering -Carmagnola, and mistrusted still more his fawning manner towards -Valeria. -</p> -<p> -'He has been fortunate,' Carmagnola answered, 'and his good fortune has -gone to his head.' -</p> -<p> -Meanwhile Bellarion went straight from that interview to despatch Werner -von Stoffel with five hundred arbalesters and six hundred horse to -Carpignano. -</p> -<p> -There was a fresh breeze with Carmagnola when the latter discovered -this. He demanded to know why it should have been done without previous -consultation with himself and the Princess, and Valeria was beside him -when he asked the question. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion's answer was a very full one. -</p> -<p> -'You will be a week building your bridges. In that time it may occur to -Theodore to do what he should have done already, to destroy the bridge -at Carpignano.' -</p> -<p> -'And what do I care about the bridge at Carpignano when I shall have -bridges of my own here?' -</p> -<p> -'When you have bridges of your own here, you need not care. But I have a -notion that it will be longer than you think before you have these -bridges, and that we may have to go by way of Carpignano in the end.' -</p> -<p> -'I shall have my bridges in a week,' said Carmagnola. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion smiled. 'When you have them, and when you have put two -thousand men across to hold them, I'll bid Stoffel return from -Carpignano.' -</p> -<p> -'But in the meantime ...' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion interrupted him, and suddenly he was very stern. -</p> -<p> -'In the meantime you will remember that I command. Though I may choose -to humour you and her highness, as the shortest way to convince you of -error, yet I do not undertake to obey you against my better judgment.' -</p> -<p> -'By God, Bellarion!' Carmagnola swore at him, 'I'll not have you gay -with me. You'll measure your words, or else you'll eat them.' -</p> -<p> -Very coldly Bellarion looked at him, and observed Valeria's white -restraining hand which again was upon Carmagnola's sleeve. -</p> -<p> -'At the moment I have a task in hand to which I belong entirely. While -it is doing if you forget that I command, I shall remove you from the -army.' -</p> -<p> -He left the swaggerer fuming. -</p> -<p> -'Only my regard for you, madonna, restrains me,' he assured the -Princess. 'He takes that tone when he should remember that, if it came -to blows between us, the majority of the men here would be upon my side, -now that he has sent nearly all his own away.' He clenched his hands in -anger. 'Yet for your sake, lady, I must suffer it. There can be no -quarrel between his men and mine until we have placed you and your -brother in possession of Montferrat.' -</p> -<p> -These and other such professions of staunch selfless loyalty touched her -deeply; and in the days that followed, whilst the troopers, toiling like -woodmen, were felling trees and building the bridges above the junction -of the rivers, Carmagnola and Valeria were constantly together. -</p> -<p> -She was driven now to the discomfort of living under canvas, sharing the -camp life of these rude men of war, and Carmagnola did all in his power -to mitigate for her the hardships it entailed, hardships which she bore -with a high gay courage. She would go with him daily to watch the -half-naked labourers in the river, bundling together whole trees as if -they were mere twigs, to serve as pontoons. And daily he gave her cause -to admire his skill, his ingenuity, and his military capacity. That -Bellarion should have sneered at this was but another proof of -Bellarion's worthlessness. Either he could not understand it, or else of -treacherous intent he desired to deprive her of its fruits. -</p> -<p> -Meanwhile Carmagnola beglamoured her with talk of actions past, in all -of which he played ever the heroic part. The eyes of her mind were -dazzled by the pictures his words drew for her. Now she beheld him -leading a knightly charge that shattered an enemy host into shards; now -she saw him at the head of an escalade, indomitably climbing enemy walls -under a hail of stones and scalding pitch; now she saw him in council, -wisely planning the means by which victory might be snatched from -overwhelming opposition. -</p> -<p> -One day when he spoke of these things, as they sat alone watching the -men who swarmed like ants about the building of his bridge, he touched a -closer note. -</p> -<p> -'Yet of all the enterprises to which I have set these rude, soldier -hands, none has so warmed me as this, for none has been worthier a man's -endeavour. It will be a glorious day for me when we set you in your -palace at Casale. A glorious day, and yet a bitter.' -</p> -<p> -'A bitter?' Her great dark eyes turned on him in question. -</p> -<p> -His countenance clouded, his own glance fell away. 'Will it not be -bitter for me to know this service is at an end; to know that I must go -my ways; resume a mercenary's life, and do for hire that which I now do -out of ... enthusiasm and love?' -</p> -<p> -She shifted her own glance, embarrassed a little. -</p> -<p> -'Surely you do yourself less than justice. There is great honour and -fame in store for you, my lord.' -</p> -<p> -'Honour and fame!' He laughed. 'I would gladly leave those to tricksters -like Bellarion, who rise to them so easily because no scruples ever -deter them. Honour and fame! Let who will have those, so that I may -serve where my heart bids me.' -</p> -<p> -Boldly now his hand sought hers. She let it lie in his. Above those -pensive, mysterious eyes her line brows were knit. -</p> -<p> -'Aye,' she breathed, 'that is the great service of life! That is the -only worthy service—as the heart bids.' -</p> -<p> -His second hand came to recruit the first. Lying almost at her feet, he -swung round on his side upon the green earth, looking up at her in a -sort of ecstasy. 'You think that, too! You help me to self-contempt, -madonna.' -</p> -<p> -'To self-contempt? It is the only contempt that you will ever know. But -why should you know that?' -</p> -<p> -'Because all my life, until this moment, I have served for hire. -Because, if this adventure had not come to me by God's grace, in such -worthless endeavours would my life continue. Now—now that I know -the opinion in which you must hold such service—it is over and -done for me. When I shall have served you to your goal, I shall have -performed my last.' -</p> -<p> -There fell a long pause between them. At last: 'When my brother is -crowned in Casale, he will need a servant such as you, Messer -Carmagnola.' -</p> -<p> -'Aye, but shall you, madonna? Shall you?' -</p> -<p> -She looked at him wistfully, smiling a little. He was very handsome, -very splendid and very brave, a knight to win a lady's trust, and she -was a very lonely, friendless lady in sore need of a stout arm and a -gallant heart to help her through the trials of this life. -</p> -<p> -The tapering fingers of her disengaged hand descended gently upon his -golden head. -</p> -<p> -'Shall I not?' she asked with a little tremulous laugh. 'Shall I not?' -</p> -<p> -'Why, then, madonna, if you will accept my service, it shall be yours -for as long as I endure. It shall never be another's. Valeria! My -Valeria!' -</p> -<p> -That hand upon his head, overheating its very indifferent contents, -drove him now to an excessive precipitancy. -</p> -<p> -He carried the hand he held almost fiercely to his lips. -</p> -<p> -It was withdrawn, gently but firmly as was its fellow. His kiss and the -bold use of her name scared her a little. -</p> -<p> -'Carmagnola, my friend ...' -</p> -<p> -'Your friend, and more than your friend, madonna.' -</p> -<p> -'Why, how much more can there be than that?' -</p> -<p> -'All that a man may be to a woman, my Valeria. I am your knight. I ever -have been since that day in the lists at Milan, when you bestowed the -palm on me. I joy in this battle that is to be fought for you. I would -joy in death for you if it were needed to prove my worship.' -</p> -<p> -'How glibly you say these things! There will have been queens in other -lists in which you have borne off the palm. Have you talked so to them?' -</p> -<p> -'O cruelty!' he cried out like a man in pain. 'That you should say this -to me! I am swooning at your feet, Valeria, you wonder of the world!' -</p> -<p> -'My nose, sir, is too long for that!' She mocked him, but with an -underlying tenderness; and tenderness there was too in her moist eyes. -'You are a whirlwind in your wooing as in the lists. You are reckless, -sir.' -</p> -<p> -'Is it a fault? A soldier's fault, then. But I'll be patient if you bid -me. I'll be whatsoever you bid me, Valeria. But when we come to -Casale ...' -</p> -<p> -He paused for words, and she took advantage of that pause to check him. -</p> -<p> -'It is unlucky to plan upon something not yet achieved, sir. Wait ... -wait until that time arrives.' -</p> -<p> -'And then?' he asked her breathlessly. 'And then?' -</p> -<p> -'Have I not said that to plan is unlucky?' -</p> -<p> -Boldly he read the converse of that statement. 'I'll not tempt fortune, -then. I dare not. I will be patient, Valeria.' -</p> -<p> -But he let it appear that his confidence was firm, and she added nothing -now to shake it. -</p> -<p> -And so in ardent wooing whilst he waited for his bridge, Carmagnola -spent most of the time that he was not engaged in directing the -construction of it. Bellarion in those days sulked like Achilles in his -tent, with a copy of Vegetius which he had brought from Milan in his -baggage. -</p> -<p> -The bridges took, not a week, but eleven days to build. At last, -however, on the eve of All Saints', as Fra Serafino tells us, Carmagnola -accompanied by Valeria and her brother bore word himself to Bellarion -that the bridges were ready and that a party of fifty of his men were -encamped on the peninsula between the rivers. He came to demand that -Bellarion should so dispose that the army should begin to cross at dawn. -</p> -<p> -'That,' said Bellarion, 'assumes that your bridges endure until dawn.' -</p> -<p> -He was standing, where he had risen to receive his visitors, in the -middle of his roomy pavilion, which was lighted by a group of three -lanterns hung at the height of his head on the tent-pole. The book in -which he had been reading was closed upon his forefinger. -</p> -<p> -'Endure until dawn?' Carmagnola was annoyed by the suggestion. 'What do -you mean?' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion's remark had been imprudent. Still more imprudent was the -laugh he now uttered. -</p> -<p> -'Ask yourself who should destroy them,' he said. 'In your place I should -have asked myself that before I went to the trouble of building them.' -</p> -<p> -'How should Theodore know of it, shut up as he is in Vercelli, eight -miles away?' -</p> -<p> -Part of his question was answered on the instant by a demoniac uproar -from the strip of land across the water. Cries of rage and terror, -shouts of encouragement and command, the sound of blows, and all the -unmistakable din of conflict, rose fiercely upon the deepening gloom. -</p> -<p> -'He knows, it seems,' said Bellarion, and again he laughed. -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola stood a moment, clenching and unclenching his hands, his face -white with rage. Then he span round where he stood and with an -inarticulate cry dashed from the tent. -</p> -<p> -One withering glance Valeria flashed into Bellarion's sardonically -amused countenance, then, summoning her brother, she followed -Carmagnola. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion set down his book upon the table by the tent-pole, took up a -cloak, and followed them at leisure, through the screen of bare trees -behind which his pavilion had been pitched, and along the high bank of -the swirling river towards the head of Carmagnola's bridge. -</p> -<p> -There, as he expected, he found them, scarcely visible in the gloom, and -with them a knot of men-at-arms and a half-dozen stragglers, all that -had escaped of the party that Carmagnola had sent across an hour ago. -The others had been surrounded and captured. Last of all to win across, -arriving just as Bellarion reached the spot, was Belluno, who had -commanded them, an excitable Neapolitan who leapt up the bank from the -bridge ranting by all the patrons of Naples that they had been betrayed. -</p> -<p> -Over the river came a sound of tramping feet. Dimly reflected in the -water they could see the forms of men who otherwise moved invisible on -the farther bank, and presently came a sound of axes on timber. -</p> -<p> -'There goes your bridge, Francesco,' said Bellarion, and for the third -time he laughed. -</p> -<p> -'Do you mock me, damn you!' Carmagnola raged at him, and then raised his -voice to roar for arbalesters. Three or four of the men went off -vociferously, at a run, to fetch them, whilst Valeria turned suddenly -upon Bellarion, whose tall cloaked figure stood beside her. -</p> -<p> -'Why do you laugh?' Her voice, sharp with disdain, resentment, and -suspicion, silenced all there that they might hear his answer. -</p> -<p> -'I am human, I suppose, and, therefore, not entirely without malice.' -</p> -<p> -'Is that all your reason? Is your malice so deep that you can laugh at -an enemy advantage which may wreck the labour of days?' And then with -increasing sharpness and increasing accusation: 'You knew!' she cried. -'You knew that the bridges would be destroyed to-night. Yourself, you -said so. How did you know? How did you know?' -</p> -<p> -'What are you implying, madonna?' cried Carmagnola, aghast. For all his -hostility towards Bellarion, he was very far from ready to believe that -he played a double game. -</p> -<p> -'That I have no wits,' said Bellarion, quietly scornful. -</p> -<p> -And now the impetuous Belluno, smarting under his own particular -misadventure and near escape, must needs cut in. -</p> -<p> -'Madonna is implying more than that. She is implying that you've sold us -to Theodore of Montferrat.' -</p> -<p> -'Are you implying it, too, Belluno?' His tone had changed. There was now -in his voice a note that the Princess had never heard, a note that made -Belluno's blood run cold. 'Speak out, man! Though I give licence for -innuendo to a lady, I require clear speech from every man. So let us -have this thing quite plainly.' -</p> -<p> -Belluno was brave and obstinate. He conquered his fear of Bellarion -sufficiently to make a show of standing his ground. -</p> -<p> -'It is clear,' he answered sullenly, 'that we have been betrayed.' -</p> -<p> -'How is it clear, you fool?' Bellarion shifted again from cold wrath -with an insubordinate inferior to argument with a fellow man. 'Are you -so inept at the trade by which you live that you can conceive of a -soldier in the Marquis Theodore's position neglecting to throw out -scouts to watch the enemy and report his movements? Are you so much a -fool as that? If so, I shall have to think of replacing you in your -command.' -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola interposed aggressively; and this partly to protect Belluno -who was one of his own lieutenants, and partly because the sneer at the -fellow's lack of military foresight was a reflection upon Carmagnola -himself. -</p> -<p> -'Do you pretend that you foresaw this action of Theodore's?' -</p> -<p> -'I pretend that any but a fool must have foreseen it. It is precisely -what any soldier in his place would do: allow you to waste time, -material, and energy on building bridges, and then promptly destroy them -for you.' -</p> -<p> -'Why, then, did you not say this ten days ago?' -</p> -<p> -'Why?' Bellarion's voice sounded amused. His face they could not see. -'Because I never spend myself in argument with those who learn only by -experience.' -</p> -<p> -Again the Princess intervened. 'Is that the best reason you can give? -You allowed time, material, and energy, and now even a detachment of men -to be wasted, merely that you might prove his folly to my Lord of -Carmagnola? Is that what you ask us to believe?' -</p> -<p> -'He thinks us credulous, by God!' swore Carmagnola. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion kept his patience. 'I had another reason, a military one with -which it seems that I must shame your wits. To move the whole army from -here to Carpignano would have taken me at least two days, perhaps three. -A mounted detachment from Vercelli to destroy the bridge could reach -Carpignano in a few hours, and once it was seen that I moved my army -thither that detachment would have been instantly despatched. It was a -movement I feared in any case, until your bridge-building operations -here deceived Theodore into believing that I had no thought of -Carpignano. That is why I allowed them to continue. Though your bridges -could never serve the purpose for which you built them, they could -excellently serve to disguise my own intention of crossing at -Carpignano. To-morrow, when the army begins to move thither, that -detachment of Theodore's will most certainly be sent to destroy the -bridge. But it will find it held by a thousand men under Stoffel, and -the probable capture of that detachment will compensate for the loss of -men you have suffered to-night.' -</p> -<p> -There was a moment's utter silence when he had done, a silence of defeat -and confusion. Then came an applauding splutter of laughter from the -group of men and officers who stood about. -</p> -<p> -It was cut short by a loud crash from across the stream, and, -thereafter, with a groaning and rending of timbers, a gurgling of -swelling, momentarily arrested, waters, and finally a noise like a -thunderclap, the wrecked bridge swinging out into the stream snapped -from the logs that held it to the northern shore. -</p> -<p> -'There it goes, Carmagnola,' said Bellarion. 'But you no longer need -bewail your labours. They have served my purpose.' -</p> -<p> -He cast his cloak more tightly about him, wished them good-night almost -gaily, and went striding away towards his pavilion. -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola, crestfallen, swallowing his chagrin as best he could, stood -there in silence beside the equally silenced Princess. -</p> -<p> -Belluno swore softly, and vented a laugh of some little bitterness. -</p> -<p> -'He's deep, always deep, by Saint Januarius! Never does he do the things -he seems to do. Never does he aim where he looks.' -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap09_III"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER IX -<br /><br /> -VERCELLI</h4> - -<p> -A letter survives which the Prince of Valsassina wrote some little time -after these events to Duke Filippo Maria, in which occurs the following -criticism of the captains of his day: 'They are stout fellows and great -fighters, but rude, unlettered, and lacking culture. Their minds are -fertile, vigorous soil, but unbroken by the plough of learning, so that -the seeds of knowledge with which they are all too sparsely sown find -little root there.' -</p> -<p> -At Carpignano, when they came there three days after breaking camp, they -found that all had fallen out as Bellarion calculated. A detachment of -horse one hundred strong had been sent in haste with the necessary -implements to destroy the bridge. That detachment Stoffel had -surrounded, captured, disarmed, and disbanded. -</p> -<p> -They crossed, and after another three days marching down the right bank -of the Sesia they crossed the Cervo just above Quinto, where Bellarion -took up his quarters in the little castle owned there by the Lord -Girolamo Prato, who was with Theodore in Vercelli. -</p> -<p> -Here, too, were housed the Princess and her brother and the Lord of -Carmagnola, the latter by now recovered from his humiliation in the -matter of his bridges to a state of normal self-complacency and -arrogance. -</p> -<p> -An eighteenth-century French writer on tactics, M. Dévinequi, in his -'L'Art Militaire au Moyen Age,' in the course of a lengthy comparison -between the methods of Bellarion Cane and the almost equally famous Sir -John Hawkwood, offers some strong adverse criticisms upon Bellarion's -dispositions in the case of this siege of Vercelli. He considers that as -a necessary measure of preparation Bellarion when at Quinto should have -thrown bridges across the Sesia above and below the city, so as to -maintain unbroken his lines of circumvallation, instead of contenting -himself with ferrying a force across to guard the eastern approaches. -This force, being cut off by the river, could, says M. Dévinequi, -neither be supported at need nor afford support. -</p> -<p> -What the distinguished French writer has missed is the fact that, once -engaged upon it, Bellarion was as little in earnest about the siege of -Vercelli as he was about Carmagnola's bridges. The one as much as the -other was no more than a strategic demonstration. From the -outset—that is to say, from the time when arriving at Quinto he -beheld the strong earthworks Theodore had thrown up—he realised -that the place was not easily to be carried by assault, and it was -within his knowledge that it was too well victualled to succumb to -hunger save after a siege more protracted than he himself was prepared -to impose upon it. -</p> -<p> -But there was Carmagnola, swaggering and thrasonical in spite of all -that had gone, and there was the Princess Valeria supporting the -handsome condottiero with her confidence. And Carmagnola, not content -that Bellarion should girdle the city, arguing reasonably enough that -months would be entailed in bringing Theodore to surrender from hunger, -was loud and insistent in his demands that the place be assaulted. Once -again, as in the case of the bridges, Bellarion yielded to the other's -overbearing insistence, went even the length of inviting him to plan and -conduct the assaults. Three of these were delivered, and all three -repulsed with ease by an enemy that appeared to Bellarion to be -uncannily prescient. After the third repulse, the same suspicion -occurred to Carmagnola, and he expressed it; not, however, to Bellarion, -as he should have done, but to the Princess. -</p> -<p> -'You mean,' she said, 'that some one on our side is conveying -information to Theodore of our intentions?' -</p> -<p> -They were alone together in the armoury of the Castle of Quinto whose -pointed windows overlooked the river. It was normally a bare room with -stone walls and a vaulted white ceiling up which crawled a troop of the -rampant lions of the Prati crudely frescoed in a dingy red. Bellarion -had brought to it some furnishings that made it habitable, and so it -became the room they chiefly used. -</p> -<p> -The Princess sat by the table in a great chair of painted leather, faded -but comfortable. She was wrapped in a long blue gown that was lined with -lynx fur against the chill weather which had set in. Carmagnola, big and -gaudy in a suit of the colour of sulphur, his tunic reversed with black -fur, his powerful yet shapely legs booted to the knee, strode to and fro -across the room in his excitement. -</p> -<p> -'It is what I begin to fear,' he answered her, and resumed his pacing. -</p> -<p> -A silence followed, and remained unbroken until he went to plant -himself, his feet wide, his hands behind him, before the logs that -blazed in the cavernous fireplace. -</p> -<p> -She looked up and met his glance. 'You know what I am thinking,' he -said. 'I am wondering whether you may not be right, after all, in your -suspicions.' -</p> -<p> -Gently she shook her head. 'I dismissed them on that night when your -bridges were destroyed. His vindication was so complete, what followed -proved him so right, that I could suspect him no longer. He is just a -mercenary fellow, fighting for the hand that pays. I trust him now -because he must know that he can win more by loyalty than by treachery.' -</p> -<p> -'Aye,' he agreed, 'you are right, my Princess. You are always right.' -</p> -<p> -'I was not right in my suspicions of him. So think no more of those.' -</p> -<p> -Standing as he did, he was completely screening the fire from her. She -rose and crossed to it, holding out her hands to the blaze when he made -room for her beside him. -</p> -<p> -'I am chilled,' she said. 'As much, I think, by our want of progress as -by these November winds.' -</p> -<p> -'Nay, but take heart, Valeria,' he bade her. 'The one will last no -longer than the other. Spring will follow in the world and in your -soul.' -</p> -<p> -She looked up at him, and found him good to look upon, so big and -strong, so handsome and so confident. -</p> -<p> -'It is heartening to have such a man as you for company in such days.' -</p> -<p> -He took her in his arms, a masterful, irresistible fellow. -</p> -<p> -'With such a woman as you beside me, Valeria, I could conquer the -world.' -</p> -<p> -A dry voice broke in upon that rapture: 'You might make a beginning by -conquering Vercelli.' -</p> -<p> -Starting guiltily apart, they met the mocking eyes of Bellarion who -entered. He came forward easily, as handsome in his way as Carmagnola, -but cast in a finer, statelier mould. 'I should be grateful to you, -Francesco, and so would her highness, if you would accomplish that. The -world can wait until afterwards.' -</p> -<p> -And Carmagnola, to cover his confusion and Valeria's, plunged headlong -into contention. -</p> -<p> -'I'd reduce Vercelli to-morrow if I had my way.' -</p> -<p> -'Who hinders you?' -</p> -<p> -'You do. There was that night attack ...' -</p> -<p> -'Oh, that!' said Bellarion. 'Do you bring that up again? Will you never -take my word for anything, I wonder? It is foredoomed to failure.' -</p> -<p> -'Not if conducted as I would have it.' He came forward to the table, -swaying from the hips in his swaggering walk. He put his finger on the -map that was spread there. 'If a false attack were made here, on the -east, between the city and the river, so as to draw the besieged, a -bold, simultaneous attack on the west might carry the walls.' -</p> -<p> -'It might,' said Bellarion slowly, and fell to considering. 'This is a -new thought of yours, this false attack. It has its merits.' -</p> -<p> -'You approve me for once! What condescension!' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion ignored the interruption. 'It also has its dangers. The party -making the feint—and it will need to be a strong one or its real -purpose will be guessed—might easily be thrust into the river by a -determined sally.' -</p> -<p> -'It will not come to that,' Carmagnola answered quickly. -</p> -<p> -'You cannot say so much.' -</p> -<p> -'Why not? The feint will draw the besieged in that direction, but before -they can sally they will be recalled by the real attack striking on the -other side.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion pondered again; but finally shook his head. -</p> -<p> -'I have said that it has its merits, and it tempts me. But I will not -take the risk.' -</p> -<p> -'The risk of what?' Carmagnola was being exasperated by that quiet, -determined opposition. 'God's death! Take charge of the feint yourself, -if you wish. I'll lead the storming party, and so that you do your part, -I'll answer for it that I am inside the town before daybreak and that -Theodore will be in my hands.' -</p> -<p> -Valeria had remained with her shoulders to them facing the fire. -Bellarion's entrance, discovering her in Carmagnola's arms, had covered -her with confusion, filled her with a vexation not only against himself -but against Carmagnola also. From this there was no recovery until -Camagnola's words came now to promise a conclusion of their troubles far -speedier than any she had dared to hope. -</p> -<p> -'You'll answer for it?' said Bellarion. 'And if you fail?' -</p> -<p> -'I will not fail. You say yourself that it is soundly planned.' -</p> -<p> -'Did I say so much? Surely not. To be frank, I am more afraid of -Theodore of Montferrat than of any captain I've yet opposed.' -</p> -<p> -'Afraid!' said Carmagnola, and sneered. -</p> -<p> -'Afraid,' Bellarion repeated quietly. 'I don't charge like a bull. I -like to know exactly where I am going.' -</p> -<p> -'In this case, I have told you.' -</p> -<p> -Valeria slowly crossed to them. 'Make the endeavour, at least, Lord -Prince,' she begged him. -</p> -<p> -He looked from one to the other of them. 'Between you, you distract me a -little. And you do not learn, which is really sad. Well, have your way, -Francesco. The adventure may succeed. But if it fails, do not again -attempt to persuade me to any course through which I do not clearly see -my way.' -</p> -<p> -Valeria in her thanks was nearer to friendliness than he had ever known -since that last night at Casale. Those thanks he received with a certain -chill austerity. -</p> -<p> -It was to be Carmagnola's enterprise, and he left it to Carmagnola to -make all the dispositions. The attempt was planned for the following -night. It was to take place precisely at midnight, which at that time of -year was the seventh hour, and the signal for launching the false attack -was to be taken from the clock on San Vittore, one of the few clocks in -Italy at that date to strike the hour. After an interval sufficient to -allow the defenders to engage on that side, Carmagnola would open the -real attack. -</p> -<p> -Empanoplied in his armour, and carrying his peaked helm in the crook of -his arm, Carmagnola went to ask of the Princess a blessing on his -enterprise. She broke into expressions of gratitude. -</p> -<p> -'Do not thank me yet,' he said. 'Before morning, God helping me, I shall -lay the State of Montferrat at your feet. Then I shall ask your thanks.' -</p> -<p> -She flushed under his ardent gaze. 'I shall pray for you,' she promised -him very fervently, and laid a hand upon his steel brassard. He bore it -to his lips, bowed stiffly, and clanked out of the room. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion did not come to seek her. Lightly armed, with no more than -back and breast and a steel cap on his head, he led out his men through -the night, making a wide détour so that their movements should not be -heard in Vercelli. Since mobility was of the first importance, he took -with him only a body of some eight hundred horse. They filed along by -the river to the east of the city, which loomed there a vast black -shadow against the faintly irradiated sky. They took up their station, -dismounted, unlimbered the scaling ladders which they had brought for -the purposes of their demonstration, and waited. -</p> -<p> -They were, as Bellarion calculated, close upon the appointed hour when -at one point of the line there was a sudden commotion. A man had been -caught who had come prowling forward, and who, upon being seized, -demanded to be taken at once before their leader. -</p> -<p> -Roughly they did as he required of them. And there in the dark, for they -dared kindle no betraying light, Bellarion learnt that he was a loyal -subject of the Duke of Milan who had slipped out of the city to inform -them that the Marquis Theodore was advised of their attack and ready to -meet it. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion swore profusely, a rare thing in him who seldom allowed -himself to be mastered by his temper. But his fear of Theodore's craft -drove him now like a fiery spur. If Theodore was forewarned, who could -say what countermeasures Theodore had not prepared? This came of lending -ear to that bellowing calf Carmagnola! -</p> -<p> -Fiercely he gave the order to mount. There was some delay in the dark, -and whilst they were still being marshalled the bell of San Vittore -tolled the seventh hour. Some moments after that were lost before they -were spurring off to warn and withdraw Carmagnola. Even then it was -necessary to go cautiously through the dark over ground now sodden by -several days of rain. -</p> -<p> -Before they were halfway round the din of combat burst upon the air. -</p> -<p> -Theodore had permitted Carmagnola's men to reach and faggot the moat, -and even to plant some ladders, before moving. Then he had thrown out -his army, in two wings, one from the gate to the north, the other from a -gate on the opposite side, and these two wings had swept round to charge -Carmagnola in flank and to envelop him. -</p> -<p> -Two things only saved Carmagnola: in the first place, Theodore's -counter-attack was prematurely launched, before Carmagnola was -sufficiently committed; in the second, Stoffel, taking matters into his -own hands, and employing the infantry tactics advocated by Bellarion, -drew off his men, and formed them up to receive the charge he heard -advancing from the north. That charge cost Theodore a score of piked -horses, and it failed to break through the bristling human wall that -rose before it in the dark. Having flung the charge back, Stoffel, -formed his men quickly into the hedgehog, embracing within it all that -he could compass of Carmagnola's other detachments, and in this -formation proceeded to draw off, intent upon saving all that he could -from the disaster that was upon them. -</p> -<p> -Meanwhile the other battle, issuing from the gate on the south and led -by Theodore himself, had crashed into Carmagnola's own body, which -Carmagnola and Belluno were vainly seeking to marshal. They might have -made an end of that detachment, which comprised the best part of -Bellarion's condotta, had not Bellarion with his eight hundred horse at -last come up to charge the enemy rear. That was the saving stroke. -Caught now between two masses, realising that his counter-surprise had -failed, and unable in the dark to attempt a fresh manœuvre, Theodore -ordered his trumpeters to sound the retreat. -</p> -<p> -Each side accounted itself fortunate in being able to retire in good -order. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap10_III"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER X -<br /><br /> -THE ARREST</h4> - -<p> -In the armoury of the castle of Quinto, Carmagnola paced like a caged -panther, the half of his armour still hanging upon him, his blond head -still encased in the close-fitting cap of blood-red velvet that served -to protect it from the helmet. And as he paced, he ranted of treachery -and other things to Valeria and Gian Giacomo of Montferrat, to the -half-dozen captains who had returned to render with him the account of -that galling failure. -</p> -<p> -The Princess occupied the big chair by the table, whilst her brother -leaned upon the back of it. Beyond stood ranged Ugolino da Tenda, Ercole -Belluno, Stoffel, and three others, their armour flashing in the golden -light of the cluster of candles set upon the table. Over by the hearth -in another high-backed chair sat Bellarion, still in his black corselet, -his long legs in their mud-splashed boots stretched straight before him, -his head cased in a close-fitting cap of peach-coloured velvet, -disdainfully listening to Carmagnola's furious tirade. He guessed the -bitterness in the soul of the boaster who had promised so much to -achieve so little. Therefore he was patient with him for a while. But to -all things there must be an end, and an end there was to Bellarion's -patience. -</p> -<p> -'Talking mends nothing, Francesco,' he broke in at last. -</p> -<p> -'It may prevent a repetition.' -</p> -<p> -'There can be no repetition, because there will be no second attempt. I -should never have permitted this but that you plagued me with your -insistence.' -</p> -<p> -'And I should have succeeded had you done your part!' roared Carmagnola -in fury, a vain, humiliated man reckless of where he cast the blame for -his own failure. 'By God's Life, that is why disaster overtook us. Had -you delivered your own attack as was concerted between us, Theodore must -have sent a force to meet it.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion remained calm under the accusation, and under the eyes of that -company, all reproachful save Stoffel's. The Swiss, unable to contain -himself, laughed aloud. -</p> -<p> -'If the Lord Bellarion had done that, sir, you might not now be alive. -It was his change of plan, and the charge he delivered upon Theodore's -rear, that enabled us to extricate ourselves, and so averted a disaster -that might have been complete.' -</p> -<p> -'And whilst you are noticing that fact,' said Bellarion, 'it may also be -worthy of your attention that if Stoffel had not ranged his foot to -receive the charge from Theodore's right wing, and afterwards formed a -hedgehog to encircle and defend you, you would not now be ranting here. -It occurs to me that an expression of gratitude and praise for Stoffel -would be not so much gracious as proper.' -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola glared. 'Ah, yes! You support each other! We are to thank you -now for a failure, which your own action helped to bring about, -Bellarion.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion continued unruffled. 'The accusation impugns only your own -intelligence.' -</p> -<p> -'Does it so? Does it so? Ha! Where is this man who came, you say, to -tell you that Theodore was forewarned of the attack?' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion shrugged. 'Do I know where he is? Do I care? Does it matter?' -</p> -<p> -'A man comes to you out of the night with such a message as that, and -you don't know what has become of him!' -</p> -<p> -'I had other things to do than think of him. I had to think of you, and -get you out of the trap that threatened you.' -</p> -<p> -'And I say that you would have best done that by attacking on your own -side, as we agreed.' -</p> -<p> -'We never agreed that I should attack. But only that I should pretend to -attack. I had not the means to push home an escalade.' His suavity -suddenly departed. 'But it seems to me that I begin to defend myself.' -He reached for his steel cap, and stood up. -</p> -<p> -'It becomes necessary!' cried Carmagnola, who in two strides was at his -side. -</p> -<p> -'Only that I should defend myself from a charge of rashness in having -yielded to your insistence to attempt this night-attack. There was a -chance, I thought, of success, and since the alternative of starving the -place would entail a delay of months, I took that chance. It has missed, -and so forces me to a course I've been considering from the outset. -To-morrow I shall raise the siege.' -</p> -<p> -'You'll raise the siege!' -</p> -<p> -That ejaculation of amazement came in chorus. -</p> -<p> -'Not only of Vercelli, but also of Mortara.' -</p> -<p> -'You'll raise the siege, sir?' It was Gian Giacomo who spoke now. 'And -what then?' -</p> -<p> -'That shall be decided to-morrow in council. It is almost daybreak. I'll -wish you a good repose, madonna, and you, sirs.' He bowed to the company -and moved to the door. -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola put himself in his way. 'Ah, but wait, Bellarion ...' -</p> -<p> -'To-morrow,' Bellarion's voice was hard and peremptory. 'By then your -wits may be cooler and clearer. If you will all gather here at noon, you -shall learn my plans. Good-night.' And he went out. -</p> -<p> -They gathered there, not at noon on the morrow, but an hour before that -time, summoned by messages from Carmagnola, who was the last to arrive -and a prey to great excitement. Belluno, da Tenda, Stoffel, and three -other officers awaited him with the Princess and the Marquis Gian -Giacomo. Bellarion was not present. He had not been informed of the -gathering, for reasons which Carmagnola's first words made clear to all. -</p> -<p> -When Bellarion did arrive, punctually at noon, for the council to which -he had bidden the captains, he was surprised to find them already seated -about the table in debate and conducting this with a vehemence which -argued that matters had already gone some way. Their voices raised in -altercation reached him as he mounted the short flight of stone steps, -at the foot of which a half-dozen men of Belluno's company were -lounging. -</p> -<p> -A silence fell when he entered, and all eyes at once were turned upon -him. He smiled a greeting, and closed the door. But as he advanced, he -began to realise that the sudden silence was unnatural and ominous. -</p> -<p> -He came to the foot of the table, where there was a vacant place. He -looked at the faces on either side of it, and lastly at Carmagnola -seated at its head, between Valeria and Gian Giacomo. -</p> -<p> -'What do you debate here?' he asked them. -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola answered him. His voice was hard and hostile; his blue eyes -avoided the steady glance of Bellarion's. -</p> -<p> -'We were about to send for you. We have discovered the traitor who is -communicating with Theodore of Montferrat, forewarning him of our every -measure, culminating in last night's business.' -</p> -<p> -'That is something, although it comes at a time when it can no longer -greatly matter. Who is your traitor?' -</p> -<p> -None answered him for a long moment. Saving Stoffel, who was flushed and -smiling disdainfully, and the Princess whose eyes were lowered, they -continued to stare at him and he began to mislike their stare. At last, -Carmagnola pushed towards him a folded square of parchment bearing a -broken seal. -</p> -<p> -'Read that.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion took it, and turned it over. To his surprise he found it -superscribed 'To the Magnificent Lord Bellarion Cane, Prince of -Valsassina.' He frowned, and a little colour kindled in his cheeks. He -threw up his head, stern-eyed. 'How?' he asked. 'Who breaks the seals of -a letter addressed to me?' -</p> -<p> -'Read the letter,' said Carmagnola, peremptorily. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion read: -</p> - -<blockquote><p class="nind"> -DEAR LORD AND FRIEND, your fidelity to me and my concerns -saved Vercelli last night from a blow that in its consequences might -have led to our surrender, for without your forewarning we should -assuredly have been taken by surprise. I desire you to know my -recognition of my debt, and to assure you again of the highest reward -that it lies in my power to bestow if you continue to serve me -with the same loyal devotion. -</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 25%;">THEODORE PALEOLOGO OF MONTFERRAT -</p></blockquote> - -<p> -Bellarion looked up from the letter with some anger in his face, but -infinitely more contempt and even a shade of amusement. -</p> -<p> -'Where was this thing manufactured?' he asked. -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola's answer was prompt. 'In Vercelli, by the Marquis Theodore. -It is in his own hand, as madonna here has testified, and it is sealed -with his own seal. Do you wonder that I broke it?' -</p> -<p> -Sheer amazement overspread Bellarion's face. He looked at the Princess, -who fleetingly looked up to answer the question in his glance. 'The hand -is my uncle's, sir.' -</p> -<p> -He turned the parchment over, and conned the seal with its stag device. -Then the amazement passed out of his face, light broke on it, and he -uttered a laugh. He turned, pulled up a stool, and sat down at the -table's foot, whence he had them all under his eye. -</p> -<p> -'Let us proceed with method. How did this letter reach you, Carmagnola?' -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola waved to Belluno, and Belluno, hostile of tone and manner, -answered the question. 'A clown coming from the direction of the city -blundered into my section of the lines this morning. He begged to be -taken to you. My men naturally brought him to me. I questioned him as to -what he desired with you. He answered that he bore a message. I asked -him what message he could be bearing to you from Vercelli. He refused to -answer further, whereupon I threatened him, and he produced this letter. -Seeing its seal, I took both the fellow and the letter to my Lord -Carmagnola.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion, himself, completed the tale. 'And Carmagnola perceiving that -seal took it upon himself to break it, and so discovered the contents to -be what already he suspected.' -</p> -<p> -'That is what occurred.' -</p> -<p> -Bellarion, entirely at his ease, looked at them with amused contempt, -and finally at Carmagnola in whose face he laughed. -</p> -<p> -'God save you, Carmagnola! I often wonder what will be the end of you.' -</p> -<p> -'I am no longer wondering what will be the end of you,' he was furiously -answered, which only went to increase his amusement. -</p> -<p> -'And you others, you were equally deceived. The letter and Carmagnola's -advocacy of my falseness and treachery were not to be resisted?' -</p> -<p> -'I have not been deceived,' Stoffel protested. -</p> -<p> -'I was not classing you with those addled heads, Stoffel.' -</p> -<p> -'It will need more than abuse to clear you,' Tenda warned him angrily. -</p> -<p> -'You, too, Ugolino! And you, madonna, and even you Lord Marquis! Well, -well! It may need more than abuse to clear me; but surely not more than -this letter. Falsehood is in every line of it, in the superscription, in -the seal itself.' -</p> -<p> -'How, sir?' the Princess asked him. 'Do you insist that it is forged?' -</p> -<p> -'I have your word that it is not. But read the letter again.' -</p> -<p> -He tossed it to them. 'The Marquis Theodore pays your wits a poor -compliment, Carmagnola, and the sequel has justified him. Ask yourselves -this: If I were, indeed, Theodore's friend and ally, could he have taken -a better way than this of putting it beyond my power to serve him -further? It is plainly superscribed to me, so that there shall be no -mistake as to the person for whom it is intended and it bears his full -signature, so that there shall be no possible mistake on the score of -whence it comes. In addition to that, he has sealed it with his arms, so -that the first person into whose hands it falls shall be justified in -ascertaining, as you did, what Theodore of Montferrat may have occasion -to write to me.' -</p> -<p> -'It was expected that the soldiers who caught the clown would bear him -straight to you,' Carmagnola countered. -</p> -<p> -'Was it? Is there no oddness in the fact that the clown should walk -straight into your own men, Carmagnola, on a section of the line that -does not lie directly between Vercelli and Quinto? But why waste time -even on such trifles of evidence. Read the letter itself. Is there a -single word in that which it was important to convey to me, or which -would not have been conveyed otherwise if it had been intended for any -purpose other than to bring me under this suspicion? Almost has Theodore -overreached himself in his guile. Out of his intentness to destroy me, -he has revealed his true aims.' -</p> -<p> -'The very arguments I used with them,' said Stoffel. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion looked in amazement at his lieutenant. 'And they failed?' he -cried, incredulous. -</p> -<p> -'Of course they failed, you foul traitor!' Carmagnola bawled at him. -'They are ingenious, but they are obvious to a man caught as you are.' -</p> -<p> -'It is not I that am caught; but you that are in danger of it, -Carmagnola, in danger of being caught in the web that Theodore has -spun.' -</p> -<p> -'To what end? To what end should he spin it? Answer that.' -</p> -<p> -'Perhaps to set up dissensions amongst us, perhaps to remove the only -one of the captains opposed to him whom he respects.' -</p> -<p> -'You're modest, by God!' sneered Carmagnola. -</p> -<p> -'And you're a purblind fool, Carmagnola,' cried Stoffel in heat. -</p> -<p> -'Then are we all fools,' said Belluno. 'For we are all of the same mind -on this.' -</p> -<p> -'Aye,' said Bellarion sadly. 'You're all of the same emptiness. That's -clear. Well, let us have in this clown and question him.' -</p> -<p> -'To what purpose?' -</p> -<p> -'That we may wring from him his precise instructions, since the letter -does not suffice.' -</p> -<p> -'You take too much for granted. The letter suffices fully. You forget -that it is not all the evidence against you.' -</p> -<p> -'What? Is there more?' -</p> -<p> -'There is your failure last night to make the false attack you undertook -to make, and there is the intention you so rashly proclaimed here -afterwards that you would raise the siege of Vercelli to-day. Why should -you wish to do that if you are not Theodore's friend, if you are not the -canker-hearted traitor we now know you to be?' -</p> -<p> -'If I were to tell you, you would not understand. I should merely give -you another proof that I am Theodore's ally.' -</p> -<p> -'That is very probable,' said Carmagnola with a heavy sneer. 'Fetch the -guard, Ercole.' -</p> -<p> -'What's this!' Bellarion was on his feet even as Belluno rose, and -Stoffel came up with him, laying hands on his weapons. But Ugolino da -Tenda and another captain between them overpowered him, whilst the other -two ranged themselves swiftly on Bellarion's either hand. Bellarion -looked at them, and from them again to Carmagnola. He was lost in -amazement. -</p> -<p> -'Are you daring to place me under arrest?' -</p> -<p> -'Until we deliberate what shall be done with you. We shall not keep you -waiting long.' -</p> -<p> -'My God!' His wits worked swiftly, and he saw clearly that they might -easily work their will with him. Of the four thousand men out there, -only Stoffel's eight hundred Switzers would be on his side. The others -would follow the lead of their respective captains. The leaders upon -whom he could have depended in this pass—Koenigshofen and Giasone -Trotta—were away at Mortara. Perceiving at last this danger, hitherto -entirely unsuspected, he turned now to the Princess. -</p> -<p> -'Madonna,' he said, 'it is you whom I serve. Once before you suspected -me, in the matter of Carmagnola's bridges, and the sequel proved you -wrong.' -</p> -<p> -Slowly she raised her eyes to look at him fully for the first time since -he had joined that board. They were very sorrowful and her pallor was -deathly. -</p> -<p> -'There are other matters, sir, besides that, which I remember. There is -the death of Enzo Spigno, for one.' -</p> -<p> -He recoiled as if she had struck him. 'Spigno!' he echoed, and uttered a -queer little laugh. 'So it is Spigno who rises from his grave for -vengeance?' -</p> -<p> -'Not for vengeance, sir. For justice. There would be that if there were -not the matter that Messer Carmagnola has urged to convict you.' -</p> -<p> -'To convict me! Am I then convicted without trial?' -</p> -<p> -None answered him, and in the pause that followed the men-at-arms -summoned by Belluno clanked in, and at a sign from Carmagnola closed -about Bellarion. There were four of them. One of the captains deprived -him of his dagger, the only weapon upon him, and flung it on the table. -At last Bellarion roused himself to some show of real heat. -</p> -<p> -'Oh, but this is madness! What do you intend by me?' -</p> -<p> -'That is to be deliberated. But be under no delusive hope, Bellarion.' -</p> -<p> -'You are to decide my fate? You?' From Carmagnola, he looked at the -others. He had paled a little; but amazement still rode above fear. -</p> -<p> -Stoffel, unable longer to contain himself, turned furiously upon -Carmagnola. 'You rash, vainglorious fool. If Bellarion is to be tried -there is none under the Duke's magnificence before whom he may be -arraigned.' -</p> -<p> -'He has been arraigned already before us here. His guilt is clear, and -he has said nothing to dispel a single hair of it. There remains only to -decide his sentence.' -</p> -<p> -'This is no proper arraignment. There has been no trial, nor have you -power to hold one,' Stoffel insisted. -</p> -<p> -'You are wrong, captain. There are military laws ...' -</p> -<p> -'I say this is no trial. If Bellarion is to be tried, you'll send him -before the Duke.' -</p> -<p> -'And at the same time,' put in Bellarion, 'you'll send your single -witness; this clown who brought that letter. Your refusal to produce him -here before me now in itself shows the malice by which you're moved.' -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola flushed under that charge, and scowlingly considered the -prisoner. 'If the form of trial you've received does not content you, -and since you charge me with personal feeling, there is another I am -ready to afford.' He drew himself up, and flung back his handsome head. -'Trial by battle, Lord Prince.' -</p> -<p> -Over Bellarion's white face a sneer was spread. -</p> -<p> -'And what shall it prove if you ride me down? Shall it prove more than -that you have the heavier weight of brawn, that you are more practised -in the lists and have the stronger thews? Does it need trial by battle -to prove that?' -</p> -<p> -'God will defend the right,' said Carmagnola. -</p> -<p> -'Will he so?' Bellarion laughed. 'I am glad to have your word for it. -But you forget that the right to challenge lies with me, the accused. In -your blundering stupidity you overlook essentials always. Your very -dulness acquits you of hypocrisy. Shall I exercise that right upon the -person in whose service I am carrying arms, upon the body of the Marquis -Gian Giacomo of Montferrat?' -</p> -<p> -The frail boy named started, and looked up with dilating eyes. His -sister cried out in very real alarm. But Carmagnola covered them with -his answer. -</p> -<p> -'I am your accuser, sir: not he.' -</p> -<p> -'You are his deputy, no more,' Bellarion answered, and now the boy came -to his feet, white and tense. -</p> -<p> -'He is in the right,' he announced. 'I cannot refuse him.' -</p> -<p> -Smiling, Bellarion looked at Carmagnola, confused and awkward. -</p> -<p> -'Always you overreach yourself,' he mocked him. He turned to Gian -Giacomo. 'You could not refuse me if I asked it. But I do not ask it. I -only desired to show the value of Carmagnola's offer.' -</p> -<p> -'You have some decency still,' Carmagnola told him. -</p> -<p> -'Whilst you cannot lay claim even to that. God made you a fool, and -that's the end of the matter.' -</p> -<p> -'Take him away.' -</p> -<p> -Already it seemed they had their orders. They laid hands upon him, and, -submitting without further words, he suffered them to lead him out. -</p> -<p> -As the door closed upon him, Stoffel exploded. He raged and stormed. He -pleaded, argued, and vituperated them, even the Princess herself, for -fools and dolts, and finally threatened to raise the army against them, -or at least to do his utmost with his Swiss to prevent them from -carrying out their evil intentions. -</p> -<p> -'Listen!' Carmagnola commanded sternly, and in the silence they heard -from the hall below a storm of angry outcries. 'That is the voice of the -army, answering you: the voice of those who were maimed last night as a -result of his betrayal. Saving yourself, there is not a captain in the -army, and saving your own Swiss, hardly a man who is not this morning -clamouring for Bellarion's death.' -</p> -<p> -'You are confessing that you published the matter even before Bellarion -was examined here! My God, you villain, you hell-kite, you swaggering -ape, who give a free rein to the base jealousy in which you have ever -held Bellarion. Your mean spite may drive you now to the lengths of -murder. But look to yourself thereafter. You'll lose your empty head -over this, Carmagnola!' -</p> -<p> -They silenced him and bore him out, whereafter they sat down to seal -Bellarion's fate. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap11_III"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER XI -<br /><br /> -THE PLEDGE</h4> - -<p> -Unanimously the captains voted for Bellarion's death. The only -dissentients were the Marquis and his sister. The latter was appalled by -the swiftness with which this thing had come upon them, and shrank from -being in any sense a party to the slaying of a man, however guilty. Also -not only was she touched by Bellarion's forbearance in the matter of -trial by battle against her brother, but his conduct in that connection -sowed in her mind the first real doubt of his guilt. Urgently she -pleaded that he should be sent for trial before the Duke. -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola, in refusing, conveyed the impression of a great soul -wrestling with circumstances, a noble knight placing duty above -inclination. It was a part that well became his splendid person. -</p> -<p> -'Because you ask it, madonna, for one reason, because of the imputations -of malice against me for another, I would give years of my life to wash -my hands of him and send him to Duke Filippo Maria. But out of other -considerations, in which your own and your brother's future are -concerned, I dare not. Saving perhaps Stoffel and his Swiss, the whole -army demands his death. The matter has gone too far.' -</p> -<p> -The captains one and all proved him right by their own present -insistence. -</p> -<p> -'Yet I do not believe him guilty,' the young Marquis startled them, 'and -I will be no party to the death of an innocent man.' -</p> -<p> -'Would any of us?' Carmagnola asked him. 'Is there any room for doubt? -The letter ...' -</p> -<p> -'The letter,' the boy interrupted hotly, 'is, as Bellarion says, a trick -of my uncle's to remove the one enemy he fears.' -</p> -<p> -That touched Carmagnola's vanity with wounding effect. He dissembled the -hurt. But it served to strengthen his purpose. -</p> -<p> -'That vain boaster has seduced you with his argument, eh?' -</p> -<p> -'No; not with his argument, but with his conduct. He could have -challenged me to trial by combat, as he showed. What am I to stand -against him? A thing of straw. Yet he declined. Was that the action of a -trickster?' -</p> -<p> -'It was,' Carmagnola answered emphatically. 'It was a trick to win you -over. For he knew, as we all know, that a sovereign prince does not lie -under that law of chivalry. He knew that if he had demanded it, you -would have been within your right in appointing a deputy.' -</p> -<p> -'Why, then, did you not say so at the time?' the Princess asked him. -</p> -<p> -'Because he did not press the matter. Oh, madonna, believe me there is -no man in Italy who less desires to have Bellarion's blood on his hands -than I.' He spoke sorrowfully, heavily. 'But my duty is clear, and -whether it were clear or not, I must be governed by the voice of these -captains, all of whom demand, and rightly, this double-dealing traitor's -death.' -</p> -<p> -Emphatically the captains confirmed him in the assertion, as -emphatically Gian Giacomo repeated that he would be no party to it. -</p> -<p> -'You are not required to be,' Carmagnola assured him. 'You may stand -aside, my lord, and allow justice to take its course.' -</p> -<p> -'Sirs,' the Princess appealed to them, 'let me implore you again, at -least to send him to the Duke. Let the responsibility of his death lie -with his master.' -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola rose. 'Madonna, what you ask would lead to a mutiny. -To-morrow either I send Bellarion's head to his ally in Vercelli, or the -men will be out of hand and there will be an end to this campaign. -Dismiss your doubts and your fears. His guilt is crystal clear. You need -but remember his avowed intention of raising the siege, to see in whose -interest he works.' -</p> -<p> -Heavy-eyed and heavy-hearted she sat, tormented by doubt now that she -was face to face with decision where hitherto no single doubt had been. -</p> -<p> -'You never asked him what alternative he proposed,' she reminded him. -</p> -<p> -'To what end? That glib dissembler would have fooled us with fresh -falsehoods.' -</p> -<p> -Belluno got to his feet. He had been manifesting impatience for some -moments. 'Have we leave to go, my lord? This matter is at an end.' -</p> -<p> -Ugolino da Tenda followed his example. 'The men below are growing -noisier. It is time we pacified them with our decision.' -</p> -<p> -'Aye, in God's name.' Carmagnola waved them away, and himself strode off -from the table towards the hearth. He stirred the logs with his boot and -sent an explosion of sparks flying up the chimney. 'Bear him word of our -decision, Belluno. Bid him prepare for death. He shall have until -daybreak to-morrow to make his soul.' -</p> -<p> -'O God! If we should be wrong!' groaned the Princess. -</p> -<p> -The captains clanked out, and the door closed. Slowly Carmagnola turned; -reproachfully he regarded her. -</p> -<p> -'Have you no faith in me, Valeria? Should I do this thing if there were -any room for doubt?' -</p> -<p> -'You may be mistaken. You have been mistaken before, remember.' -</p> -<p> -He did not like to remember it. 'And you? Have you been mistaken all -these years? Are you mistaken on the death of your friend Count Spigno -and what followed?' -</p> -<p> -'Ah! I was forgetting that,' she confessed. -</p> -<p> -'Remember it. And remember what he said at that table, which may, after -all, be the truth. That Count Spigno has risen from the grave at last -for vengeance.' -</p> -<p> -'Will you not send for this clown, at least?' cried Gian Giacomo. -</p> -<p> -'To what purpose now? What can he add to what we know? The matter, Lord -Marquis, is finished.' -</p> -<p> -And meanwhile Belluno was seeking Bellarion in the small chamber in -which they had confined him on the ground floor of the castle. -</p> -<p> -With perfect composure Bellarion heard the words of doom. He did not -believe them. This sudden thing was too monstrously impossible. It was -incredible the gods should have raised him so swiftly to his pinnacle of -fame, merely to cast him down again for their amusement. They might make -sport with him, but they would hardly carry it to the lengths of -quenching his life. -</p> -<p> -His only answer now was to proffer his pinioned wrists, and beg that the -cord might be cut. Belluno shook his head to that in silence. Bellarion -grew indignant. -</p> -<p> -'What purpose does it serve beyond a cruelty? The window is barred; the -door is strong, and there is probably a guard beyond it. I could not -escape if I would.' -</p> -<p> -'You'll be less likely to attempt it with bound wrists.' -</p> -<p> -'I'll pass you my parole of honour to remain a prisoner.' -</p> -<p> -'You are convicted of treachery, and you know as well as I do that the -parole of a convicted traitor is never taken.' -</p> -<p> -'Go to the devil, then,' said Bellarion, which so angered Belluno that -he called in the guard, and ordered them to bind Bellarion's ankles as -well. -</p> -<p> -So trussed that he could move only by hops, and then at the risk of -falling, they left him. He sat down on one of the two stools which with -a table made up all the furniture of that bare chill place. He wagged -his head and even smiled over the thought of Belluno's refusal to accept -his parole, or rather over the thought that in offering it he had no -notion of keeping it. -</p> -<p> -'I'd break more than my pledged word to get out of this,' said he to -himself. 'And only an idiot would blame me.' -</p> -<p> -He looked round the bare stone walls, and lastly at the window. He rose, -and hopped over to it. Leaning on the sill, which was at the height of -his breast, he looked out. It opened upon the inner court, he found, so -that wherever escape might lie, it lay not that way. The sill upon the -rough edge of which he leaned was of granite. He studied it awhile -attentively. -</p> -<p> -'The fools!' he said, and hopped back to his stool, where he gave -himself up to quiet meditation until they brought him a hunch of bread -and a jug of wine. -</p> -<p> -To the man-at-arms who acted as gaoler, he held out his pinioned wrists. -'How am I to eat and drink?' he asked. -</p> -<p> -'You'll make shift as best you can.' -</p> -<p> -He made shift, and by using his two hands as one contrived to eat and to -drink. After that he spent some time at the sill, patiently drawing his -wrists backwards and forwards along the edge of it, with long rests -between whiles to restore the blood which had flowed out of upheld arms. -It was wearying toil, and kept him fully engaged for some hours. -</p> -<p> -Towards dusk he set up a shouting which at last brought the guard into -his prison. -</p> -<p> -'You're in haste to die, my lord,' the fellow insolently mocked him. -'But quiet you. The stranglers are bidden for daybreak.' -</p> -<p> -'And I am to perish like a dog?' Bellarion furiously asked him. With -pinioned wrists and ankles he sat there by his table. 'Am I never to -have a priest to shrive me?' -</p> -<p> -'Oh! Ah! A priest?' The fellow went out. He went in quest of Carmagnola. -But Carmagnola was absent, marshalling his men against a threatened -attempt by Stoffel and the Swiss to rescue Bellarion. The captains were -away about the same business, and there remained only the Princess and -her brother. -</p> -<p> -'Messer Bellarion is asking for a priest,' he told them. -</p> -<p> -'Has none been sent to him?' cried Gian Giacomo, scandalised. -</p> -<p> -'He'd not be sent until an hour before the stranglers.' -</p> -<p> -Valeria shuddered, and sat numbed with horror. Gian Giacomo swore under -his breath. 'In God's name, let the poor fellow have a priest at once. -Let one be sent for from Quinto.' -</p> -<p> -It would be an hour later when a preaching friar from the convent of -Saint Dominic was ushered into Bellarion's prison, a tall, frail man in -a long black mantle over his white habit. -</p> -<p> -The guard placed a lantern on the table, glanced compassionately at the -prisoner, who sat there as he had earlier seen him with pinioned wrists -and ankles. But something had happened to the cords meanwhile, for no -sooner had the guard passed out and closed the door than Bellarion stood -up and his bonds fell from him like cobwebs, startling the good monk who -came to shrive him. Infinitely more startled was the good monk to find -himself suddenly seized by the throat in a pair of strong, nervous hands -whose thumbs were so pressed into his windpipe that he could neither cry -out nor breathe. He writhed in that unrelenting grip, until a fierce -whisper quieted him. -</p> -<p> -'Be still if you would hope to live. If you undertake to make no sound, -tap your foot twice upon the ground, and I'll release you.' -</p> -<p> -Frantically the foot was tapped. -</p> -<p> -'But remember that at the first outcry, I shall kill you without mercy.' -</p> -<p> -He removed his hands, and the priest almost choked himself in his sudden -greed of air. -</p> -<p> -'Why? Why do you assault me?' he gasped. 'I come to comfort and ...' -</p> -<p> -'I know why you come better than you do, brother. You think you bring me -the promise of eternal life. All that I require from you at present is -the promise of temporal existence. So we'll leave the shriving for -something more urgent.' -</p> -<p> -It would be a half-hour later, when cowled as he had entered the tall, -the bowed figure of the priest emerged again from the room, bearing the -lantern. -</p> -<p> -'I've brought the light, my son,' he said almost in a whisper. 'Your -prisoner desires to be alone in the dark with his thoughts.' -</p> -<p> -The man-at-arms took the lantern in one hand, whilst with the other he -was driving home the bolt. Suddenly he swung the lantern to the level of -the cowl. This priest did not seem quite the same as the one who had -entered. The next moment, on his back, his throat gripped by the -vigorous man who knelt upon him, the guard knew that his suspicions had -been well-founded. Another moment and he knew nothing. For the hands -that held him had hammered his head against the stone floor until -consciousness was blotted out. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion extinguished the lantern, pushed the unconscious man-at-arms -into the deepest shadow of that dimly lighted hall, adjusted his mantle -and cowl, and went quickly out. -</p> -<p> -The soldiers in the courtyard saw in that cowled figure only the monk -who had gone to shrive Bellarion. The postern was opened for him, and -with a murmured '<i>Pax vobiscum</i>,' he passed out across the lesser -bridge, and gained the open. Thereafter, under cover of the night, he -went at speed, the monkish gown tucked high, for he knew not how soon -the sentinel he had stunned might recover to give the alarm. In his -haste he almost stumbled upon a strong picket, and in fleeing from that -he was within an ace of blundering into another. Thereafter he proceeded -with more caution over ground that was everywhere held by groups of -soldiers, posted by Carmagnola against any attempt on the part of the -Swiss. -</p> -<p> -As a result it was not until an hour or so before midnight that he came -at last to Stoffel's quarters, away to the south of Vercelli, and found -there everything in ferment. He was stopped by a party of men of Uri, to -whom at once he made himself known, and even whilst they conducted him -to their captain, the news of his presence ran like fire through the -Swiss encampment. -</p> -<p> -Stoffel, who was in full armour when Bellarion entered his tent, gasped -his questioning amazement whilst Bellarion threw off his mantle and -white woollen habit, and stood forth in his own proper person and -garments. -</p> -<p> -'We were on the point of coming for you,' Stoffel told him. -</p> -<p> -'A fool's errand, Werner. What could you have done against three -thousand men, who are ready and expecting you?' But he spoke with a warm -hand firmly gripping Stoffel's shoulders and a heart warmed, indeed, by -this proof of trust and loyalty. -</p> -<p> -'Something we might have done. There was a will on our side that must be -lacking on the other.' -</p> -<p> -'And the walls of Quinto? You'd have beaten your heads in vain against -them, even had you succeeded in reaching them. It's as lucky for you as -for me that I've saved you this trouble.' -</p> -<p> -'And what now?' Stoffel asked him. -</p> -<p> -'Give the order to break camp at once. We march to Mortara to rejoin the -Company of the White Dog from which I should never have separated. We'll -show Carmagnola and those Montferrine princes what Bellarion can do.' -</p> -<p> -Meanwhile they already had some notion of it. The alarm at his escape -had spread through Quinto; and Carmagnola had been fetched from the -lines to be informed of it in detail by a half-naked priest and a -man-at-arms with a bandaged head. It had taken some time to find him. It -took more for him to resolve what should be done. At last, however, he -decided that Bellarion would have fled to Stoffel; so he assembled his -captains, and with the whole army marched on the Swiss encampment. But -he came too late. At the last the Swiss had not waited to strike their -camp, realising the danger of delay, but had departed leaving it -standing. -</p> -<p> -Back to Quinto and the agitated Princess went Carmagnola with the news -of failure. He found her waiting alone in the armoury, huddled in a -great chair by the fire. -</p> -<p> -'That he will have gone to his own condotta at Mortara is certain,' he -declared. 'But without knowing which road he took, how could I follow in -the dark? And to follow meant fulfilling that traitor's intention of -raising this siege.' -</p> -<p> -He raged and swore, striding to and fro there in his wrath, bitterly -upbraiding himself for not having taken better precautions knowing with -what a trickster he had to deal, damning the priest and the sentry and -the fools in the courtyard who had allowed Bellarion to walk undetected -through their ranks. -</p> -<p> -She watched him, and found him less admirable than hitherto in the -wildness of his ravings. Unwillingly almost her mind contrasted his -behaviour under stress with the calm she had observed in Bellarion. She -fetched a weary sigh. If only Bellarion had been true and loyal, what a -champion would he not have been. -</p> -<p> -'Raging will not help you, Carmagnola,' she said at last, the least -asperity in her tone. -</p> -<p> -It brought him, pained, to a halt before her. 'And whence, madonna, is -my rage? Have I lost anything? Do I strive here for personal ends? Ha! I -rage at the thought of the difficulties that will rise up for you.' -</p> -<p> -'For me?' -</p> -<p> -'Can you doubt what will follow? Do you think that all that we have lost -to-night is Bellarion, with perhaps his Swiss? The men at Mortara are -mostly of his own company, the Company of the Dog. A well-named company, -as God lives! And those who are not serve under captains who are loyal -to him and who, knowing nothing of his discovered treachery here, will -be beguiled by that seducer. In strength he will be our superior, with -close upon four thousand men.' -</p> -<p> -She looked up at him in alarm. 'You are suggesting that we shall have -him coming against us!' -</p> -<p> -'What else? Do we not know enough already of his aims? By all the -Saints! Things could not have fallen out better to give him the pretext -that he needed.' He was raging again. 'Had this sly devil contrived -these circumstances himself, he could not have improved them. By these -he can justify himself at need to the Duke. Oh, he's turned the tables -on us. Now you see why I meant to give him no chance.' -</p> -<p> -She kept her mind to the essence of the matter. -</p> -<p> -'Then if he comes against us, we are lost. We shall be caught between -his army and my uncle's.' -</p> -<p> -His overweening vanity would not permit him to admit, or even to think, -so much. He laughed, confident and disdainful. -</p> -<p> -'Have you so little faith in me, Valeria? I am no apprentice in this art -of war. And with the thought of you to spur me on, do you think that I -will suffer defeat? I'll not lay down my arms while I have life to serve -you. I will take measures to-morrow. And I will send letters to the -Duke, informing him of Bellarion's defection and begging reenforcements. -Can you doubt that they will come? Is Filippo Maria the man to let one -of his captains mutiny and go unpunished?' He laughed again full of a -confidence by which she was infected. And he looked so strong and -masterful, so handsome in the half-armour he still wore, a very god of -war. -</p> -<p> -She held out a hand to him. 'My friend, forgive my doubt. You shall be -dishonoured by no more fears of mine.' -</p> -<p> -He caught her hand. He drew her out of the chair, and towards him until -she brought up against his broad mailed breast. 'That is the fine brave -spirit that I love in you as I love all in you, Valeria. You are mine, -Valeria! God made us for each other.' -</p> -<p> -'Not yet,' she said, smiling a little, her eyes downcast and veiled from -his ardent glance. -</p> -<p> -'When then?' was his burning question. -</p> -<p> -'When Theodore has been whipped out of Montferrat.' -</p> -<p> -His arms tightened about her until his armour hurt her. 'It is a pledge, -Valeria?' -</p> -<p> -'A pledge?' she echoed on a questioning, exalted note. -</p> -<p> -'The man who does that may claim me when he wants me. I swear it.' -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap12_III"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER XII -<br /><br /> -CARMAGNOLA'S DUTY</h4> - -<p> -My Lord of Carmagnola had shut himself up in a small room on the ground -floor of the castle of Quinto to indite a letter to the High and Most -Potent Duke Filippo Maria of Milan. A heavy labour this of quill on -parchment for one who had little scholarship. It was a labour that fell -to him so rarely that he had never perceived until now the need to equip -himself with a secretary. -</p> -<p> -The Princess and her brother newly returned from Mass on that Sunday -morning, four days after Bellarion's escape, were together in the -armoury discussing their situation, and differing a good deal in their -views, for the mental eyes of the young Marquis were not dazzled by the -effulgence of Carmagnola's male beauty, or deceived by his histrionic -attitudes. -</p> -<p> -Into their presence, almost unheralded, were ushered two men. One of -these was small and slight and active as a monkey, the other a fellow of -great girth with a big, red, boldly humorous face, blue eyes under black -brows flanking a beak of a nose, and a sparse fringe of grey hair -straggling about a gleaming bald head. -</p> -<p> -The sight of those two, who smirked and bowed, brought brother and -sister very suddenly to their feet. -</p> -<p> -'Barbaresco!' she cried on a note of gladness, holding out both her -hands. 'And Casella!' -</p> -<p> -'And,' said Barbaresco, as he rolled forward, 'near upon another five -hundred refugees from Montferrat, both Guelph and Ghibelline, whom we've -been collecting in Piedmont and Lombardy to swell the army of the great -Bellarion and settle accounts with Master Theodore.' -</p> -<p> -They kissed her hands, and then her brother's. 'My Lord Marquis!' cried -the fire-eating Casella, his gimlet glance appraising the lad. 'You're -so well grown I should hardly have known you. We are your servants, my -lord, as madonna here can tell you. For years have we laboured for you -and suffered for you. But we touch the end of all that now, as do you. -Theodore is brought to bay at last. We are hounds to help you pull him -down.' -</p> -<p> -At no season could their coming have been more welcome or uplifting than -in this hour of dark depression, when recruits to the cause of the young -Marquis were so urgently required. This she told them, announcing their -arrival a good omen. Servants were summoned, and despatched for wine, -and whilst the newcomers drank the hot spiced beverage provided they -learnt the true meaning of her words. -</p> -<p> -It sobered their exultation. This defection of Bellarion and his -powerful company amounting to more than half of the entire army altered -their outlook completely. -</p> -<p> -Barbaresco blew out his great cheeks, frowning darkly. -</p> -<p> -'You say that Bellarion is the agent of Theodore?' he cried. -</p> -<p> -'We have proof of it,' she sadly assured him, and told him of the -letter. His amazement deepened. 'Does it surprise you, then?' she asked. -'Surely it should be no news to you!' -</p> -<p> -'Once it would not have been. For once I thought that I held proof of -the same; that was on the night that Spigno died at his hands. Later, -before that same night was out, I understood better why he killed -Spigno.' -</p> -<p> -'You understood? Why he killed him?' She was white to the lips. Gian -Giacomo was leaning forward across the table, his face eager. She -uttered a fretful laugh. 'He killed him because he was my friend, mine -and my brother's, the chief of all our friends.' -</p> -<p> -Barbaresco shook his great head. 'He killed him because this Spigno whom -we all trusted so completely was a spy of Theodore's.' -</p> -<p> -'What?' -</p> -<p> -Her world reeled about her; her senses battled in a mist. The thick, -droning voice of Barbaresco came to deepen her confusion. -</p> -<p> -'It is all so simple; so very clear. The facts that Spigno was dressed -as we found him and in the attic where we had imprisoned Bellarion -should in themselves have explained everything. How came he there? -Bellarion was all but convicted of being an agent of Theodore's. But for -Spigno we should have dealt with him out of hand. Then at dead of night -Spigno went to liberate him, and by that very act convicted himself in -Bellarion's eyes. And for that Bellarion stabbed him. The only flaw is -how one agent of Theodore's should have come to be under such a -misapprehension about the other. Saving that the thing would have been -clear at once.' -</p> -<p> -'That I can explain,' said Valeria breathlessly, 'if you have sound -proof of Spigno's guilt, if it is not all based on rash assumption.' -</p> -<p> -'Assumption!' laughed Casella, and he took up the tale. 'That night, -when we determined upon flight, we first repaired, because of our -suspicions, to Spigno's lodging. We found there a letter addressed -superscribed to Theodore, to be delivered in the event of Spigno's death -or disappearance. Within it we found a list of our names and of the part -which each of us had had in the plot to kill the Regent, and the terms -of that letter made it more than clear that throughout Spigno had been -Theodore's agent for the destruction of the Marquis here.' -</p> -<p> -'That letter,' said Barbaresco, 'was a safeguard the scoundrel had -prepared in the event of discovery. The threat of its despatch to -Theodore would have been used to compel us to hold our hands. Oh, a -subtle villain, your best and most loyal friend Count Spigno, and but -for Bellarion ...' He spread his hands and laughed. -</p> -<p> -Then Casella interposed. -</p> -<p> -'You said, madonna, that you could supply the link that's missing in our -chain.' -</p> -<p> -But she was not listening. She sat with drooping head, her hands -listlessly folded in her lap. -</p> -<p> -'It was all true. All true!' Her tone seemed the utterance of a broken -heart. 'And I have mistrusted him, and ... Oh, God!' she cried out. -'When I think that by now he might have been strangled and with my -consent. And now ...' -</p> -<p> -'And now,' cut in her brother almost brutally considering the pain she -was already bearing, 'you and that swaggering fool Carmagnola have -between you driven him out and perhaps set him against us.' -</p> -<p> -The swaggering fool came in at that moment with inky fingers and -disordered hair. The phrase that greeted him brought him to a halt on -the threshold, his attitude magnificent. -</p> -<p> -'What's this?' he asked with immense dignity. -</p> -<p> -He was told, by Gian Giacomo, so fiercely and unsparingly that he went -red and white by turns as he listened. Then, commanding himself and -wrapped in his dignity as in a mantle, he came slowly forward. He even -smiled, condescendingly. -</p> -<p> -'Of all this that you tell I know nothing. It may well be as you say. It -is no concern of mine. What concerns me is what has happened here; the -discovery that Bellarion was in correspondence with Theodore, and his -avowed intention to raise this siege; add to this that he has slipped -through our hands, and is now abroad to work your ruin, and consider if -you are justified in using hard words to me but for whom your ruin would -already have been encompassed.' -</p> -<p> -His majestic air and his display of magnanimity under their reproach -imposed upon all but Valeria. -</p> -<p> -It was she who answered him: -</p> -<p> -'You are forgetting that it was only my conviction that he had been -Theodore's agent aforetime which disposed me to believe him Theodore's -agent now.' -</p> -<p> -'But the letter, then?' Carmagnola was showing signs of exasperation. -</p> -<p> -'In God's name, where is this letter?' growled the deep voice of -Barbaresco. -</p> -<p> -'Who are you to question me now? I do not know your right, sir, or even -your name.' -</p> -<p> -The Princess presented him and at the same time Casella. -</p> -<p> -'They are old and esteemed friends, my lord, and they are here to serve -me with all the men that they can muster. Let Messer Barbaresco see this -letter.' -</p> -<p> -Impatiently Carmagnola produced it from the scrip that hung beside his -dagger from a gold-embossed girdle of crimson leather. -</p> -<p> -Slowly Barbaresco spelled it out, Casella reading over his shoulder. -When he had done, he looked at Carmagnola, and from Carmagnola to the -others, first in sheer amazement, then in scornful mirth. -</p> -<p> -'Lord of Heaven, Messer Carmagnola! You've the repute of a great -fighter, and, to be sure, you're a fine figure of a man; also I must -assume you honest. But I would sooner put my trust in your animal -strength than in your wits.' -</p> -<p> -'Sir!' -</p> -<p> -'Oh, aye, to be sure, you can throw out your chest and roar and strut. -But use your brains for once, man.' The boldly humorous red face was -overspread by a sardonic grin. 'Master Theodore took your measure -shrewdly when he thought to impose upon you with this foxy piece of -buffoonery, and, my faith, if Bellarion had been less nimble, this trick -would have served its purpose. Nay, now don't puff and blow and swell! -Read the letter again. Ask yourself if it would have borne that full -signature and that superscription if it had been sincere, and -considering that it imparts no useful information save that Bellarion -was betraying you, ask yourself if it would have been written at all had -anything it says been true.' -</p> -<p> -'The very arguments that Bellarion used,' cried the Marquis. -</p> -<p> -'To which we would not listen,' said the Princess bitterly. -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola sniffed. 'They are the arguments any man in his case would -use. You overlook that the letter is an incentive, an undertaking to -reward him suitably if he ...' -</p> -<p> -Barbaresco broke in, exasperated by the man's grandiose stupidity. -</p> -<p> -'To the devil with that, numskull!' -</p> -<p> -'Numskull, sir? To me? By Heaven ...' -</p> -<p> -'Sirs, sirs!' The Princess laid her hand on Barbaresco's great arm. -'This is not seemly to my Lord Carmagnola ...' -</p> -<p> -'I know it. I know it. I crave his pardon. But I was never taught to -suffer fools gladly. I ...' -</p> -<p> -'Sir, your every word is an offence. You ...' -</p> -<p> -Valeria calmed them. 'Don't you see, Messer Carmagnola, that he but uses -you as a whipping-boy instead of me. It is I who am the fool, the -numskull in his eyes; for these deeds are more mine than any other's. -But my old friend Barbaresco is too courteous to say so.' -</p> -<p> -'Courteous?' snorted Carmagnola. 'That is the last term I should apply -to his boorishness. By what right does he come hectoring here?' -</p> -<p> -'By the right of his old affection for me and my brother. That is what -makes him hot. For my sake, then, bear with him, sir.' -</p> -<p> -The great man bowed, his hand upon his heart, signifying that for her -sake there was no indignity he would not suffer. -</p> -<p> -Thereafter he defended himself with great dignity. If the letter had -been all, he might have taken Barbaresco's views. But it was, he -repeated, the traitor Bellarion's avowed intention to raise the siege. -That, in itself, was a proof of his double-dealing. -</p> -<p> -'How did this letter come to you?' Barbaresco asked. -</p> -<p> -Gian Giacomo answered whilst Valeria added in bitter self-reproach, 'And -this messenger was never examined, although Bellarion demanded that he -should be brought before us.' -</p> -<p> -'Do you upbraid me with that, madonna?' Carmagnola cried. 'He was a poor -clown, who could have told us nothing. He was not examined because it -would have been waste of time.' -</p> -<p> -'Let us waste it now,' said Barbaresco. -</p> -<p> -'To what purpose, sir?' -</p> -<p> -'Why, to beguile our leisure. No other entertainment offers.' -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola contained himself under that sardonic leer. -</p> -<p> -'Sir, you are resolved, it seems, to try my patience. It requires all my -regard and devotion for her highness to teach me to endure it. The -messenger shall be brought.' -</p> -<p> -At Valeria's request not only the messenger, but the captains who had -voted Bellarion's death were also summoned. Carmagnola demurred at -first, but bowed in the end to her stern insistence. -</p> -<p> -They came, and when they were all assembled, they were told by the -Princess why they had been summoned as well as what she had that morning -learnt from Barbaresco. Then the messenger was brought in between the -guards, and it was the Princess herself who questioned him. -</p> -<p> -'You have nothing to fear, boy,' she assured him gently, as he cowered -in terror before her. 'You are required to answer truthfully. When you -have done so, and unless I discover that you are lying, you shall be -restored to liberty.' -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola, who had come to take his stand at her side, bent over her. -</p> -<p> -'Is that prudent, madonna?' -</p> -<p> -'Prudent or not, it is promised.' There was in her tone an asperity that -dismayed him. She addressed herself to the clown. -</p> -<p> -'When you were given this letter you would be given precise instructions -for its delivery, were you not?' -</p> -<p> -'Yes, magnificent madonna.' -</p> -<p> -'What were those instructions?' -</p> -<p> -'I was taken to the ramparts by a knight, to join some other knights and -soldiers. They pointed to the lines straight ahead. I was to go in that -direction with the letter. If taken I was to ask for the Lord -Bellarion.' -</p> -<p> -'Were you bidden to go cautiously? To conceal yourself?' -</p> -<p> -'No, madonna. On the contrary. My orders were to let myself be seen. I -am answering truthfully, madonna.' -</p> -<p> -'When you were told to go straight ahead into the lines that were -pointed out to you, on which side of the ramparts were you standing?' -</p> -<p> -'On the south side, madonna. By the southern gate. That is truth, as God -hears me.' -</p> -<p> -The Princess leaned forward, and she was not the only one to move. -</p> -<p> -'Were you told or did you know what soldiers occupied the section of the -lines to which you were bidden?' -</p> -<p> -'I just knew that they were soldiers of the besieging army, or the Lord -Bellarion's army. I am telling you the truth, madonna. I was told to be -careful to go straight, and not to wander into any other part of the -line but that.' -</p> -<p> -Ugolino da Tenda made a sharp forward movement. 'What are you saying?' -</p> -<p> -'The truth! The truth!' cried the lad in terror. 'May God strike me dumb -forever if I have uttered a lie.' -</p> -<p> -'Quiet! Quiet!' the Princess admonished him. 'Be sure we know when you -speak the truth. Keep to it and fear nothing. Did you hear mention of -any name in connection with that section of the line?' -</p> -<p> -'Did I?' He searched his mind, and his eyes brightened. 'Aye, aye, I -did. They spoke amongst them. They named one Calmaldola, or ... -Carmandola ...' -</p> -<p> -'Or Carmagnola,' da Tenda cut in, and laughed splutteringly in sheer -contempt. 'It's clear, I think, that Theodore's letter was intended for -just the purpose that it's served.' -</p> -<p> -'Clear? How is it clear?' Carmagnola's contempt was in the question. -</p> -<p> -'In everything, now that we have heard this clown. Why was he sent to -the southern section? Do you suppose Theodore did not know that -Valsassina himself and those directly under him, of whom I was one, were -quartered in Quinto, on the western side?' Then his voice swelled up in -anger. 'Why was this messenger not examined sooner, or ...' he checked -and his eyes narrowed as they fixed themselves on Carmagnola's flushed -and angry face '... or, was he?' -</p> -<p> -'Was he?' roared Carmagnola. 'Now what the devil do you mean?' -</p> -<p> -'You know what I mean, Carmagnola. You led us all within an ace of doing -murder. Did you lead us so because you're a fool, or a villain? Which?' -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola sprang for him, roaring like a bull. The other captains got -between, and the Princess on her feet, commanding, imperious, added her -voice sharply to theirs to restore order. They obeyed that slim, frail -woman, scarcely more than a girl, as she stood there straight and tense -in her wine-coloured mantle, her red-gold head so proudly held, her dark -eyes burning in her white face. -</p> -<p> -'Captain Ugolino, that was ill said of you,' she reproved him. 'You -forget that if this messenger was not examined before, the blame for -that is upon all of us. We took too much for granted and too readily -against the Prince of Valsassina.' -</p> -<p> -'It is now that you take too much for granted,' answered Carmagnola. -'Why did Valsassina intend to raise this siege if he is honest? Answer -me that!' -</p> -<p> -His challenge was to all. Ugolino da Tenda answered it. -</p> -<p> -'For some such reason as he had when he sent his men to hold the bridge -at Carpignano while you were building bridges here. Bellarion's -intentions are not clear to dull eyes like yours and mine, Carmagnola.' -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola considered him malevolently. 'You and I will discuss this -matter further elsewhere,' he promised him. 'You have used expressions I -am not the man to forget.' -</p> -<p> -'It may be good for you to remember them,' said the young captain, no -whit intimidated. 'Meanwhile, madonna, I take my leave. I march my -condotta out of this camp within an hour.' -</p> -<p> -She looked at him in sudden distress. He answered the look. -</p> -<p> -'I am grieved, madonna. But my duty is to the Prince of Valsassina. I -was seduced from it by too hasty judgment. I return to it at once.' He -bowed low, gathered up his cloak, and went clanking out. -</p> -<p> -'Hold there!' Carmagnola thundered after him. 'Before you go I've an -account to settle with you.' -</p> -<p> -Ugolino turned on the threshold, drawn up to his full height. -</p> -<p> -'I'll afford you the opportunity,' said he, 'but only after I have the -answer to my question, whether you are a villain or a fool, and only if -I find that you're a fool.' -</p> -<p> -The captains made a barrier which Carmagnola could not pass. Livid with -anger and humiliation, his grand manner dissipated, he turned to the -Princess. -</p> -<p> -'Will your highness suffer me to go after him? He must not be permitted -to depart.' -</p> -<p> -But she shook her red-gold head. 'Nay, sir. I detain no man here against -his inclinations. And Captain Ugolino seems justified of his.' -</p> -<p> -'Justified! Dear God! Justified!' He apostrophised the groined ceiling, -then swung to the other four captains standing there. 'And you?' he -demanded. 'Do you also deem yourselves justified to mutiny?' -</p> -<p> -Belluno was prompt to answer. But then Belluno was his own lieutenant. -'My lord, if there has been an error we are all in it, and have the -honesty to admit it.' -</p> -<p> -'I am glad there is still some honesty among you. And you?' His angry -eyes swept over the others. One by one they answered as Belluno had -done. But they were men of little account, and the defection of the four -of them would not have reduced the army as did Ugolino's, whose condotta -amounted to close upon a thousand men. -</p> -<p> -'We are forgetting this poor clown,' said the Princess. -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola looked at him as if he would with joy have wrung his neck. -</p> -<p> -'You may go, boy,' she told him. 'You are free. See that he leaves -unhindered.' -</p> -<p> -He went with his guards. The captains, dismissed, went out next. -</p> -<p> -Carmagnola, his spirit badly bruised and battered, looked at the -Princess, who had sunk back into her chair. -</p> -<p> -'However it has been achieved,' she said, 'Theodore's ends could not -better have been served. What is left us now?' -</p> -<p> -'If I might venture to advise ...' quoth Barbaresco, smooth as oil, 'I -should say that you could not do better than follow Ugolino da Tenda's -example.' -</p> -<p> -'What?' -</p> -<p> -'Return to your fealty to Bellarion.' -</p> -<p> -'Return?' Carmagnola leaned towards him from his fine height, and his -mouth gaped. 'Return?' he repeated. 'And leave Vercelli?' -</p> -<p> -'Why not? That would no more than fulfil Bellarion's intention to raise -the siege. He will have an alternative.' -</p> -<p> -'I care nothing for his alternatives, and let us be clear upon this: I -owe him no fealty. My fealty was sworn not to him, but to the Duchess -Beatrice. And my orders from Duke Filippo Maria are to assist in the -reduction of Vercelli. I know where my duly lies.' -</p> -<p> -'It is possible,' said the Princess slowly, 'that Bellarion had some -other plan for bringing Theodore to his knees.' -</p> -<p> -He stared at her. There was pain in his handsome eyes. His face was -momentarily almost convulsed. And there was little more than pain in his -voice when he spoke. -</p> -<p> -'Oh, madonna! Into what irreparable error is your generous heart -misleading you? How can you have come in a breath to place all your -trust in this man whom for years you have known, as many know him, for a -scheming villain?' -</p> -<p> -'Could I do less having discovered the cruelty of my error?' -</p> -<p> -'Are you sure—can you be sure upon such slight grounds—that -you were in error? That you are not in error now? You heard what Belluno -said of him on the night my bridges were destroyed—that Bellarion -never looks where he aims.' -</p> -<p> -'That, sir, is what has misled me, to my present shame.' -</p> -<p> -'Is it not rather what is misleading you now?' -</p> -<p> -'You heard what Messer Barbaresco had to tell me.' -</p> -<p> -'I do not need to hear Messer Barbaresco or any other. I know what I can -see for myself, what my wits tell me.' -</p> -<p> -She looked at him almost slyly, for one normally so wide-eyed, and her -answer all considered was a little cruel. -</p> -<p> -'Are you still unshaken in your confidence in your wits? Do you still -think that you can trust them?' -</p> -<p> -That was the death-blow to his passion for her, as it was the death-blow -of the high hopes he is suspected of having centred in her, seeing -himself, perhaps, as the husband of the Princess Valeria of Montferrat, -supreme in Montferrine court and camp. It was a sword-thrust full into -his vanity, which was the vital part of him. -</p> -<p> -He stepped back, white to the very lips, his countenance disordered. -Then, commanding himself, he bowed, and steadied his voice to answer. -</p> -<p> -'Madonna, I see that you have made your choice. My prayer will be that -you may not have occasion to repent it. No doubt the troops accompanying -these gentlemen of Montferrat will be your sufficient escort to Mortara, -or you may join forces with Ugolino da Tenda's condotta. Although I -shall be left with not more than half the men the enterprise demands, -with these I must make shift to reduce Vercelli, as my duty is. Thus, -madonna, you may yet owe your deliverance to me. May God be with you!' -He bowed again. -</p> -<p> -Perhaps he hoped still for some word to arrest him, some retraction of -the injustice with which she used him. But it did not come. -</p> -<p> -'I thank you for your good intentions, my lord,' she said civilly. 'God -be with you, too.' -</p> -<p> -He bit his lip, then turned, and threw high that handsome golden head -which he was destined to leave, some few years later, between the -pillars of the Piazzetta in Venice. Thus he stalked out. All considered, -it was an orderly retreat; and that was the last she ever saw of him. -</p> -<p> -As the door banged, Barbaresco smacked his great thigh with his open -palm and exploded into laughter. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap13_III"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER XIII -<br /><br /> -THE OCCUPATION OF CASALE</h4> - -<p> -When Bellarion proclaimed his intention of raising the siege of -Vercelli, he had it in mind, in view of the hopelessness of being able -to reduce the place reasonably soon, to draw Theodore into the open by -means of that strategic movement which Thucydides had taught him, and to -which he had so often already and so successfully had recourse. -</p> -<p> -His Swiss, being without baggage, travelled lightly and swiftly. They -left their camp before Vercelli on the night of Wednesday, and on the -evening of the following Friday, Bellarion brought them into the village -of Pavone, where Koenigshofen had established himself in Facino's old -quarters of three years ago. There they lay for the night. But whilst -his weary followers rested, himself he spent the greater part of the -night in the necessary dispositions for striking camp at dawn. And very -early on that misty November morning he was off again with Giasone -Trotta, Koenigshofen, and all the horse, leaving Stoffel to follow more -at leisure with the foot, the baggage, and the artillery. -</p> -<p> -Before nightfall he was at San Salvatore, where his army rested, and on -the following Sunday morning at just about the time that Barbaresco was -reaching Vercelli, Bellarion, Prince of Valsassina, was approaching the -Lombard Gate into Casale, by the road along which he had fled thence -years before, a nameless outcast waif whose only ambition was the study -of Greek at Pavia. -</p> -<p> -He had travelled by many roads since then, and after long delays he had -reached Pavia, no longer as a poor nameless scholar, but as a -condottiero of renown, not to solicit at the University the alms of a -little learning, but to command whatever he might crave of the place, -holding even its Prince in subjection. Greek he had not learnt; but he -had learnt much else instead, though nothing that made him love his -fellow man or hold the world in high regard. Therefore, he was glad to -think that here he touched the end of that long journey begun five years -ago along this Lombard Road; the mission upon which he had set out -blindly that day was, after many odd turns of Fortune, all but -accomplished. When it was done, he would strip off this soldier's -harness, abdicate his princely honours, and return on foot—humbler -than when he had set out, and cured of his erstwhile heresy—to the -benign and peaceful shelter of the convent at Cigliano. -</p> -<p> -There was no attempt to bar his entrance into the Montferrine capital. -The officer commanding the place knew himself without the necessary -means to oppose this force which so unexpectedly came to demand -admittance. And so, the people of Casale, issuing from Mass on -that Sunday morning, found the great square before Liutprand's -Cathedral and the main streets leading from it blocked by outlandish -men-at-arms—Italians, Gascons, Burgundians, Swabians, Saxons, and -Swiss—whose leader proclaimed himself Captain-General of the army of -the Marquis Gian Giacomo of Montferrat. -</p> -<p> -It was a proclamation that not at all reassured them of their dread at -the presence of a rapacious and violent soldiery. -</p> -<p> -The Council of Ancients, summoned by Bellarion's heralds, assembled in -the Communal Palace, to hear the terms of this brigand captain—as -they conceived him—who had swooped upon their defenceless city. -</p> -<p> -He came attended by a group of officers. He was tall and soldierly of -bearing, in full armour, save for his helm, which was borne after him by -a page, and his escort, from the brawny, bearded Koenigshofen to the -fierce-eyed, ferrety Giasone, was calculated to inspire dread in -peaceful citizens. But his manner was gentle, and his words were fair. -</p> -<p> -'Sirs, your city of Casale has nothing to fear from this occupation, for -it is not upon its citizens that we make war, and so that they give no -provocation, they will find my followers orderly. We invite your -alliance with ourselves in the cause of right and justice. But if you -withhold this alliance we shall not visit it against you, provided that -you do not go the length of actively opposing us. -</p> -<p> -'The High and Mighty Lord Filippo Maria Visconti, Duke of Milan, weary -of the encroachments upon his dominions resulting from the turbulent -ambition of your Prince-Regent, the Marquis Theodore, has resolved to -make an end of a regency which in itself has already become an -usurpation, and to place in the authority to which his majority entitles -him your rightful Prince, the Marquis Gian Giacomo Paleologo. I invite -you, sirs, to perform your duty as representatives of the people by -swearing upon my hands fealty to that same Marquis Gian Giacomo in the -cathedral at the hour of vespers this evening.' -</p> -<p> -That invitation was a command, and it was punctually obeyed by men who -had not the strength to resist. Meanwhile a measure of reassurance had -been afforded the city by Bellarion's proclamation enjoining order upon -his troops. The proclamation was in no equivocal terms. It reminded the -men that they were in occupation of a friendly city which they were sent -to guard and defend, and that any act of pillage or violence would be -punished by death. They were housed, some in the citadel, and the -remainder in the fortress-palace of the Montferrine princes, where -Bellarion himself took up his quarters. -</p> -<p> -In Theodore's own closet, occupying the very chair in which Theodore had -sat and so contemptuously received the unknown Bellarion on that day -when the young student had first entered those august walls, Bellarion -that night penned a letter to the Princess Valeria, wherein he gave her -news of the day's events. That letter, of a calligraphy so perfect that -it might be mistaken for a page from some monkish manuscript of those -days, is one of the few fragments that have survived from the hand of -this remarkable man who was adventurer, statesman, soldier, and -humanist. -</p> -<p> -'Most honoured and most dear lady,' he addresses her—'Riveritissima -et Carissima Madonna.' The exordium is all that need concern us now. -</p> -<p> -Ever since at your own invitation I entered your service that evening in -your garden here at Casale, where to-day I have again wandered reviving -memories that are of the fairest in my life, that service has been my -constant study. I have pursued it, by tortuous ways and by many actions -appearing to have no bearing upon it, unsuspected by you when not -actually mistrusted by you. That your mistrust has wounded me oftentimes -and deeply, would have weighed lightly with me had I not perceived that -by mistrusting you were deprived of that consolation and hope which you -would have found in trusting. The facts afforded ever a justification of -your mistrust. This I recognized; and that facts are stubborn things, -not easily destroyed by words. Therefore I did not vainly wear myself in -any endeavour to destroy them, but toiled on, so that, in the ultimate -achievement of your selfless aims for your brother, the Marquis, I might -prove to you without the need of words the true impulse of my every -action in these past five years. The fame that came to me as a -condottiero, the honours I won, and the increase of power they brought -me I have never regarded as anything but weapons to be employed in this -your service, as means to the achievement of your ends. But for that -service accepted in this garden, my life would have been vastly -different from all that it has been. No burden heavier than a scholar's -would have been mine, and to-day I might well be back with the brethren -at Cigliano, an obscure member of their great brotherhood. To serve you, -I have employed trickery and double-dealing until men have dubbed me a -rogue, and some besides yourself have come to mistrust me, and once I -went the length of doing murder. But I take no shame in any of these -things, nor, most dear lady, need you take shame in that your service -should have entailed them. The murder I did was the execution of a -rogue; the conspiracy I scattered was one that would have made a net in -which to take you; the deceits I have put upon the Marquis Theodore, -chiefly when I made him serve my dear Lord Facino's turn and seduced him -into occupying Vercelli, so as subsequently to afford the Duke of Milan -a sound reason for moving against him, were deceits employed against a -deceiver, whom it would be idle to combat in honest fashion. In his eyes -more than any other's—for he is not the only victim of the duplicity -I have used to place you ultimately where you should be—I am a -double-dealing Judas. And it is said of me, too, that in the field as in -the council, I prevail by subterfuge and never by straightforward blows. -But my conscience remains tranquil. It is not what a man does or says -that counts; but what a man intends. I have embraced as a part of my -guiding philosophy that teaching of Plato's which discriminates between -the lie on the lips and the lie in the heart. On my lips and in my -actions lies have been employed. I confess it frankly. But in my heart -no lie has ever been. If I have employed at times dishonest means, at -least the purpose for which they have been employed has been -unfalteringly, unswervingly honest, and one in the final achievement of -which there can be only pride and a sense of duty done. -</p> -<p> -To this if you believe it—and the facts will presently constrain -you to do so, unless my fortune in the field should presently desert -me—I need add no details of the many steps in your service. By the -light of faith in me from what is written and what is presently to do, -you will now read aright those details for yourself. -</p> -<p> -We touch now the goal whither all these efforts have been addressed. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Upon this follows his concise account of the events from the moment of -his escape from Quinto, and upon that an injunction to her to come at -once with her brother to Casale, depending upon the protection of his -arm and the loyalty of a people which only awaits the sight of its -rightful Prince to be increased to enthusiasm and active support. -</p> -<p> -That letter was despatched next day to Quinto, but it did not reach her -until almost a week later between Alessandria and Casale. -</p> -<p> -Meanwhile early on the morrow the city was thrown into alarm by the -approach of a strong body of horse. This was Ugolino da Tenda's -condotta, and Ugolino himself rode in with a trumpeter to make renewed -submission to the Lord Bellarion, and to give him news of what had -happened in Quinto upon the coming of Barbaresco. -</p> -<p> -Bellarion racked him with questions, as to what was said, particularly -as to what the Princess said and how she looked, and what passed between -her and Carmagnola. And when all was done, far from the stern reproaches -Ugolino had been expecting he found himself embraced by a Bellarion more -joyous than he had ever yet known that sardonic soldier. -</p> -<p> -That gaiety of Bellarion's was observed by all in the days that -followed. He was a man transformed. He displayed the light-heartedness -of a boy, and moved about the many tasks claiming his attention with a -song on his lips, a ready laugh upon the slightest occasion, and a -sparkle in his great eyes that all had hitherto known so sombre. -</p> -<p> -And this notwithstanding that these were busy and even anxious days of -preparation for the final trial of strength. He rode abroad during the -day with two or three of his officers, one of whom was always Stoffel, -surveying the ground of the peninsula that lies between Sesia and Po to -the north of Casale, and at night he would labour over maps which he was -preparing from his daily notes. Meanwhile he kept himself day by day -informed, by means of a line of scouts which he had thrown out, of what -was happening at Vercelli. -</p> -<p> -With that clear prescience, which in all ages has been the gift of all -great soldiers, he was able not merely to opine but quite definitely to -state the course of action that Theodore would pursue. Because of this, -on the Wednesday of that week, he moved Ugolino da Tenda and his -condotta out of Casale, and transferred them bag and baggage—by -night so that the movement might not be detected and reported to the -enemy—to the woods about Trino, where they were ordered to encamp -and to lie close until required. -</p> -<p> -On the morning of Friday arrived at last in Casale the Marquis Gian -Giacomo and his sister, escorted by the band of Montferrine exiles under -Barbaresco and Casella, and the people turned out to welcome not only -the Princes, but in many cases their own relatives and friends. -Bellarion, with his captains and a guard of honour of fifty lances, -received the Princes at the Lombard Gate, and escorted them to the -palace where their apartments had been prepared. -</p> -<p> -The acclamations of the people lining the streets brought tears to the -eyes of the Princess and a flush to the cheeks of her brother, and there -were tears in her eyes when she sought Bellarion in his room to abase -herself in the admission of her grievous misjudgment and to sue pardon -for it. -</p> -<p> -'Your letter, sir,' she told him, 'touched me more deeply than anything -I can remember in all my life. Think me a fool if you must for what is -past, but not an ingrate. My brother shall prove our gratitude so soon -as ever it lies within his power.' -</p> -<p> -'Madonna, I ask no proofs of it, nor need them. To serve you has not -been a means, but an end, as you shall see.' -</p> -<p> -'That vision at least does not lie in the future. I see now, and very -clearly.' -</p> -<p> -He smiled, a little wistfully, as he bowed to kiss her hand. -</p> -<p> -'You shall see more clearly still,' he promised her. -</p> -<p> -That colloquy went no further. Stoffel broke in upon them to announce -that his scouts had come galloping in from Vercelli with the news that -the Lord Theodore had made a sally in force, shattering a way through -Carmagnola's besiegers, and that he was advancing on Casale with a -well-equipped army computed to be between four and five thousand strong. -</p> -<p> -The news had already spread about the city, and was causing amongst the -people the gravest apprehension and unrest. The prospect of a siege and -of the subsequent vengeance of the Lord Theodore upon the city for -having harboured his enemies filled them with dread. -</p> -<p> -'Send out trumpeters,' Bellarion ordered, 'and let it be proclaimed in -every quarter that there will be no siege, and that the army is marching -out at once to meet the Marquis Theodore beyond the Po.' -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap14_III"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER XIV -<br /><br /> -THE VANQUISHED</h4> - -<p> -Theodore's sally from Vercelli had been made at daybreak on that Friday -morning. It had been shrewdly planned, for Theodore was no bungler, and, -before he had brought more than half his men into action, Carmagnola, -startled by the suddenness of the blow that fell upon him, was routed -and in flight. -</p> -<p> -After that, this being no more than the preliminary of the task before -him, Theodore marched out every man of his following to go against -Bellarion at Casale. Thus, by that ancient plan of attacking a vital -point that had been left undefended, had Bellarion succeeded in drawing -his enemy from a point of less importance in which he was almost -impregnably entrenched. Theodore had perceived, as Bellarion had -calculated that he would, that it could serve little purpose for him to -hold an outpost like Vercelli if in the meantime the whole of his -dominions were to be wrenched from his grasp. -</p> -<p> -No sooner was he gone, however, than Carmagnola, informed of his -departure, rallied his broken troops, and with drums beating, trumpets -blaring, and flags flying, marched like a conqueror into the now -undefended city of Vercelli. For the resistance it had made, he -subjected it to a cruel sack, giving his men unbounded licence, and that -same evening he wrote to Duke Filippo Maria in the following terms: -</p> - -<blockquote><p class="nind"> -MOST POTENT DUKE AND MY GOOD LORD,—It is my joyous task to give your -highness tidings that, informed of the reduction in our numbers -resulting from the defection of the Prince of Valsassina and several -other captains acting in concert with him, the Lord Theodore of -Montferrat, greatly presumptuous, did to-day issue from Vercelli for -wager of battle against us. A vigorous action was fought in the -neighbourhood of Quinto, in which despite our inferior numbers we put -the Marquis to flight. Lacking numbers sufficient to engage in pursuit, -particularly as this would have led us into Montferrine territory, and -since the reoccupation of Vercelli and its restoration to your duchy was -the task with which your highness entrusted us, I marched into the city -at once, and I now hold it in the name of your exalted potency. By this -complete and speedy victory I hope to merit the approbation of your -highness. -</p></blockquote> - -<p> -Meanwhile Theodore's march on Casale had anything but the aspect of a -flight. The great siege train he dragged along with him over the sodden -and too-yielding ground of that moist plain delayed his progress to such -an extent that it was not until late on that November afternoon when he -reached Villanova, here to receive news from his scouts that a -considerable army, said to be commanded by the Prince of Valsassina, was -circling northward from Terranova. -</p> -<p> -The news was unexpected and brought with it some alarm. He had gone -confidently and rather carelessly forward fully expecting to find the -enemy shut up in Casale. Hence all the ponderous siege train which had -so hampered his progress. That Bellarion, forsaking the advantage of -Casale's stout walls, should come out to meet him and engage him in the -open was something beyond his dreams, and but for the unexpectedness of -it, he would have rejoiced in such a decision on the part of his -redoubtable opponent. -</p> -<p> -It was in that unexpectedness, as usual, that lay Bellarion's advantage. -Theodore, compelled now to act in haste, not knowing at what moment the -enemy might be upon him, made dispositions to which it was impossible to -give that thought which the importance of the issues demanded. The first -of these was to order the men, who were preparing to encamp for the -night, to be up again and to push on and out of this village before they -found themselves hemmed into it. That circling movement reported -suggested this danger to Theodore. -</p> -<p> -They came out in rather straggling order to be marshalled even as they -marched. Theodore's aim, and it was shrewd enough, was to reach the -broad causeway of solid land between Corno and Popolo, where marshlands -on either side would secure his flanks and compel the enemy to engage -him on a narrow front. What was to follow he had not yet had time to -consider. But if he could reach that objective, he would be secure for -the present, and he could rest his men in the two hamlets on the -marshes. -</p> -<p> -But a mile beyond Villanova, Bellarion was upon his left flank and rear. -He had little warning of it before the enemy was charging him. But it -was warning enough. He threw out his line in a crescent formation, using -his infantry in a manner which merited Bellarion's entire approval, and -obviously intent upon fighting a rearguard battle whilst bringing his -army to the coveted position. -</p> -<p> -But the infantry were not equal to their commander, and they were -insufficiently trained in these tactics. Some horses were piked, but -almost every horse piked meant an opening in the human wall that opposed -the charge, and through these openings Giasone Trotta's heavy riders -broke in, swinging their ponderous maces. From a rearguard action on -Theodore's part, the thing grew rapidly to the proportions of a general -engagement, and for this Theodore could not have been placed worse than -he was with his left, now that he had swung about, upon the quaking -boglands of Dalmazzo and his back to the broad waters of the Po. He -swung his troops farther round, so as to bring his rear upon the only -possible line of retreat, which was that broad firm land between Corno -and Populo. At last his skilful manœuvres achieved the desired result, -and then, very gradually, fighting every inch of the ground, he began to -fall back. At every yard now the front must grow narrower, and unless -Bellarion's captains were very sure of their ground, some of them would -presently be in trouble in the bogs on either side. If this did not -happen, they would soon find it impossible, save at great cost and -without perceptible progress, to continue the engagement, and with night -approaching they would be constrained to draw off. Theodore smiled -darkly to himself in satisfaction, and took heart, well pleased with his -clever tactics by which he had extricated himself from a dangerous -situation. He had won a breathing-space that should enable him to -marshal his men so as to deal with this rash enemy who came to seek him -in the open. -</p> -<p> -And then suddenly, a quarter-mile away, from the direction of Corno, -towards which they were so steadily falling back, came a pounding of -hooves that swelled swiftly into a noise of thunder, and, before any -measures could be taken to meet this new menace, Ugolino da Tenda's -horse was upon Theodore's rear. -</p> -<p> -Ugolino had handled his condotta well, and strictly in accordance with -his orders from Bellarion. From Balzola, whither he had been moved at -noon so as to be in readiness, he had made a leisurely and cautious -advance, filing his horse along the very edge of the bogland so that -their hooves should give no warning of their approach. Thus until he had -won within striking distance. And the blow he now struck, heavy and -unexpected, crumpled up Theodore's rear, clove through, driving his men -right and left to sink to their waists in the marshes, and scattered -such fear and confusion in those ahead that their formation went to -pieces, and gaped to Bellarion's renewed frontal attacks. -</p> -<p> -Less than three hours that engagement lasted, and of all those who had -taken the field with Theodore, saving perhaps a thousand who fled -helter-skelter towards Trino after Ugolmo's passage, there was not a -survivor who had not yielded. Stripped of their arms and deprived of -their horses, they were turned adrift, to go whithersoever they listed -so long as it was outside of Montferrat territory. The maimed and -wounded of Theodore's army were conveyed by their fellows into the -villages of Villanova, Terranova, and Grassi. -</p> -<p> -It was towards the third hour of that November night when the triumphant -army, returning from that stricken field, reëntered Casale, lighted by -the bonfires that blazed in the streets, whilst the bells of Liutprand's -Cathedral crashed out their peals of victory. Deliriously did the -populace acclaim Bellarion, Prince of Valsassina, in its enormous relief -at being saved the hardships of a siege and delivered from the possible -vengeance of Theodore for having opened its gates to Theodore's enemies. -</p> -<p> -Theodore, on foot, marched proudly at the head of a little band of -captives of rank, who had been retained by their captors for the sake of -the ransoms they could pay. The jostling, pushing crowd hooted and -execrated and mocked him in his hour of humiliation. White-faced, his -head held high, he passed on apparently unmoved by that expression of -human baseness, knowing in his heart that, if he had proved master, the -acclamations now raised for his conqueror would have been raised for him -by the very lips that now execrated him. -</p> -<p> -He was conducted to the palace, to the very room whence for so many -years he had ruled the State of Montferrat, and there he found his -nephew and niece awaiting him when he was brought in between Ugolino da -Tenda and Giasone Trotta. -</p> -<p> -Bareheaded, stripped of his armour, his tall figure bowed, he stood like -a criminal before them whilst they remained seated on either side of the -writing-table that once had been his own. From the seat whence he had -dispensed justice was justice now to be dispensed to him by his nephew. -</p> -<p> -'You know your offence, my lord,' Gian Giacomo greeted him, a cold, -dignified, and virile Gian Giacomo, in whom it was hardly possible to -recognise the boy whom he had sought to ruin in body and in soul. 'You -know how you have been false to the trust reposed in you by my father, -to whom God give peace. Have you anything to say in extenuation?' -</p> -<p> -He parted his lips, then stood there opening and closing his hands -before he could sufficiently control himself to answer. -</p> -<p> -'In the hour of defeat, what can I do but cast myself upon your mercy?' -</p> -<p> -'Are we to pity you in defeat? Are we to forget in what you have been -defeated?' -</p> -<p> -'I ask not that. I am in your hands, a captive, helpless. I do not claim -mercy. I may not deserve it. I hope for it. That is all.' -</p> -<p> -They considered him, and found him a broken man, indeed. -</p> -<p> -'It is not for me to judge you,' said Gian Giacomo, 'and I am glad to be -relieved of that responsibility. For though you may have forgotten that -I am of your blood, I cannot forget that you are of mine. Where is his -highness of Valsassina?' -</p> -<p> -Theodore fell back a pace. 'Will you set me at the mercy of that -dastard?' -</p> -<p> -The Princess Valeria looked at him coldly. 'He has won many titles since -the day when to fight a villainy he pretended to become your spy. But -the title you have just conferred upon him, coming from your lips, is -the highest he has yet received. To be a dastard in the sight of a -dastard is to be honourable in the sight of all upright men.' -</p> -<p> -Theodore's white face writhed into a smile of malice. But he answered -nothing in the little pause that followed before the door opened upon -Bellarion. -</p> -<p> -He came in supported by two of his Swiss, and closely followed by -Stoffel. His armour had been removed, and the right sleeve of his -leather haqueton, as of the silken tunic and shirt beneath, had been -ripped up, and now hung empty at his side, whilst his breast bulged -where his arm was strapped to his body. He was very pale and obviously -weak and in pain. -</p> -<p> -Valeria came to her feet at sight of him thus, and her face was whiter -than his own. -</p> -<p> -'You are wounded, my lord!' -</p> -<p> -He smiled, rather whimsically. 'It sometimes happens when men go to -battle. But I think my Lord Theodore here has taken the deeper hurt.' -</p> -<p> -Stoffel pushed forward a chair, and the Swiss carefully lowered -Bellarion to it. He sighed in relief, and leaned forward so as to avoid -contact with the back. -</p> -<p> -'One of your knights, my lord, broke my shoulder in the last charge.' -</p> -<p> -'I would he had broken your neck.' -</p> -<p> -'That was the intention.' Bellarion's pale lips smiled. 'But I am known -as Bellarion the Fortunate.' -</p> -<p> -'Just now my lord had another name for you,' said Valeria, and -Bellarion, observing the set of her lips and the scorn in her glance as -it flickered over Theodore, marvelled at the power of hate in one -naturally so gracious. He had had a taste of it, himself, he remembered, -and perhaps she was but passing on to Theodore what rightly had belonged -to him throughout. 'He is a rash man,' she continued, 'who will not -trouble to conciliate the arbiter of his fate. My Lord Theodore has lost -his guile, I think, together with the rest.' -</p> -<p> -'Aye,' said Bellarion, 'we have stripped him of all save his life. Even -his mask of benignity is gone.' -</p> -<p> -'You are noble!' said Theodore. 'You gird at a captive! Am I to remain -here to be mocked?' -</p> -<p> -'Not for me, faith,' Bellarion answered him. 'I have never contemplated -you with any pleasure. Take him away, Ugolino. Place him securely under -guard. He shall have judgment to-morrow.' -</p> -<p> -'Dog!' said Theodore with venom, as he drew himself up to depart. -</p> -<p> -'That's my device, as yours is the stag. Appropriate, all things -considered. I had you in my mind when I adopted it.' -</p> -<p> -'I am punished for my weakness,' said Theodore. 'I should have left -Justice to wring your neck when you were its prisoner here in Casale.' -</p> -<p> -'I'll repay the debt,' Bellarion answered him. 'Your own neck shall -remain unwrung so that you withdraw to your principality of Genoa and -abide there. More of that to-morrow.' -</p> -<p> -Peremptorily he waved him away and Ugolino hustled him out. As the door -closed again, Bellarion, relaxing the reins of his will, sank forward in -a swoon. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap15_III"></a></p> - -<h4>CHAPTER XV -<br /><br /> -THE LAST FIGHT</h4> - -<p> -When he recovered, he was lying on his sound side on a couch under the -window, across which the curtains of painted and gilded leather had been -drawn. -</p> -<p> -An elderly, bearded man in black was observing him, and some one whom he -could not see was bathing his brow with a cool aromatic liquid. As he -fetched a sigh that filled his lungs and quickened his senses into full -consciousness, the man smiled. -</p> -<p> -'There! It will be well with him now. But he should be put to bed.' -</p> -<p> -'It shall be done,' said the woman who was bathing his brow, and her -voice, soft and subdued, was the voice of the Princess Valeria. 'His -servants will be below by now. Send them to me as you go.' -</p> -<p> -The man bowed and went out. Slowly Bellarion turned his head, and looked -up in wonder at the Princess with whom he was now alone. Her eyes, more -liquid than their wont, smiled wistfully down upon him. -</p> -<p> -'Madonna!' he exclaimed. 'Do you serve me as a handmaid? That is -not ...' -</p> -<p> -'You are thinking it an insufficient return for your service to me. But -you must give me time, sir, this is only a beginning.' -</p> -<p> -'I am not thinking that at all.' -</p> -<p> -'Then you are not thinking as you should. You are weak. Your wits work -slowly. Else you might remember that for five years, in which you have -been my loyal, noble, unswerving friend, I, immured in my stupidity, -have been your enemy.' -</p> -<p> -'Ah!' he smiled. I knew I should convince you in the end. Such knowledge -gives us patience. A man may contain his soul for anything that is -assured. It is the doubtful only that makes him fret and fume.' -</p> -<p> -'And you never doubted?' she asked him, wondering. -</p> -<p> -'I am too sure of myself,' he answered. -</p> -<p> -'And God knows you have cause to be, more cause than any man of whom -ever I heard tell. Do you know, Lord Prince, that in these five years -there is no evil I have not believed of you? I even deemed you a coward, -on the word of that vain boaster Carmagnola.' -</p> -<p> -'He was none so wrong, by his own lights. I am not a fighter of his -pattern. I have ever been careful of myself.' -</p> -<p> -'Your condition now proves that.' -</p> -<p> -'Oh, this, to-day ... That was different. Too much depended on the -issue. It was the last throw. I had to take a hand, much though I -dislike a rough-and-tumble. So that we won through, it would not much -have mattered if the vamplate of that fellow's lance had brought up -against my throat. There are no more fights for me, so what matter if I -left my life in the last one?' -</p> -<p> -'The last one, Lord Prince!' -</p> -<p> -'And that is not my title any more. I am a prince no longer. I leave the -rank behind with all the other vanities of the world.' -</p> -<p> -'You leave it behind?' She found him obscure. -</p> -<p> -'When I go back to Cigliano, which will be as soon as I can move.' -</p> -<p> -'What do you go to do at Cigliano?' -</p> -<p> -'What? Why, what the other brethren do. <i>Pax multa in cella</i>. The old -abbot was right. There is yonder a peace for which I am craving now that -my one task here is safely ended. In the world there is nothing for me.' -</p> -<p> -'Nothing!' She was amazed. 'And in five years you have won so much!' -</p> -<p> -'Nothing that I covet,' he answered gently. 'It is all vanity, all -madness, greed, and bloodlust. I was not made for worldliness, and but -for you I should never have known it. Now I have done.' -</p> -<p> -'And your dominions, Gavi and Valsassina?' -</p> -<p> -'I'll bestow them upon you, madonna, if you will deign to accept a -parting gift from these hands.' -</p> -<p> -'There was a long pause. She had drawn back a little. He could not see -her face. 'You have the fever, I think,' she said presently in an odd -voice. 'It is your hurt.' -</p> -<p> -He sighed. 'Aye, you would think so. It is difficult for one reared in -the world to understand that a man's eyes should remain undazzled by its -glitter. Yet, believe me, I leave it with but one regret.' -</p> -<p> -'And that?' The question came breathlessly upon a whisper. -</p> -<p> -'That the purpose for which I entered it remains unfulfilled. That I -have learnt no Greek.' -</p> -<p> -Again there was a pause. Then she moved forward, rustling a little, and -came directly into his line of vision. -</p> -<p> -'I hear your servants, I think. I will leave you now.' -</p> -<p> -'I thank you, madonna. God be with you.' -</p> -<p> -But she did not go. She stood there between himself and the fireplace, -slight and straight as on the first evening when he had seen her in her -garden. She was dressed in a close-fitting gown of cloth of silver. He -observed in particular now the tight sleeves which descended to the -knuckles of her slim, tapering hands, and remembered that just such -sleeves had she worn when first his eyes beheld her. Over this gown she -wore a loose houppelande of sapphire velvet, reversed at throat and wide -gaping sleeves with ermine. And there were sapphires in the silver caul -that confined her abundant red-gold hair. -</p> -<p> -'Aye,' he said wistfully, dreamily, 'it was just so you looked, and just -so will I remember you as long as I remember anything. It is good to -have served you, lady mine. It has made me glorious in my own eyes.' -</p> -<p> -'You have made yourself glorious, Lord Prince, in the eyes of all.' -</p> -<p> -'What do they matter?' -</p> -<p> -Slowly she came back to him. She was very pale and a little frown was -puckering her fine brows. Very wistful, and mysterious as deep pools, -were those dark eyes of hers. She came back, drawn by the words he had -used, and more than the words, by something odd in his gently musing -tone. -</p> -<p> -'Do I matter nothing, Bellarion?' -</p> -<p> -He smiled with an infinite sadness. 'Must you ask that now? Does not the -whole of my life in the world give you the answer, that never woman -mattered more to a man? I have known no service but yours. And I have -served you—<i>per fas et nefas</i>.' -</p> -<p> -She stood above him, and her lips quivered. What she said when at last -she spoke had no apparent bearing upon the subject. -</p> -<p> -'I am wearing your colours, Bellarion.' -</p> -<p> -Surprise flickered in his eyes, as they sought confirmation of her -statement in the azure and argent of her wear. -</p> -<p> -'And I did not remark the chance,' he cried. -</p> -<p> -'Not chance. It is design.' -</p> -<p> -'It was sweetly and generously courteous so to honour me.' -</p> -<p> -'It was not only to honour you that I assumed these colours. Have they -no message for you, Bellarion?' -</p> -<p> -'Message?' For the first time in their acquaintance she saw fear in his -bold eyes. -</p> -<p> -'Clearly they have not; no message that you look for. You have said that -you covet nothing in this world.' -</p> -<p> -'Nothing within my reach. To covet things beyond it is to taste the full -bitterness of life.' -</p> -<p> -'Is there anything in the world that is not within your reach, -Bellarion?' -</p> -<p> -He looked at her as she smiled down upon him through her tears. He -caught his breath gaspingly. With his sound left hand he clutched her -left which hung at the level of his head. -</p> -<p> -'I am mad, of course,' he choked. -</p> -<p> -'Not mad, Bellarion. Only stupid. Do you still covet nothing?' -</p> -<p> -'Aye, one thing!' His face glowed. 'One thing that would change into a -living glory the tinsel glitter of the world, one thing that would make -life ... O God! What am I saying?' -</p> -<p> -'Why do you break off, Bellarion?' -</p> -<p> -'I am afraid!' -</p> -<p> -'Of me? Is there anything I could deny you, who have given all to serve -me? Must I in return offer you all I have? Can you claim nothing for -yourself?' -</p> -<p> -'Valeria!' -</p> -<p> -She stooped to kiss his lips. 'My very hate of you in all these years -was love dissembled. Because my spirit leapt to yours, almost from that -first evening in the garden there, did it so wound and torture me to -discover baseness in you. I should have trusted my own heart, rather -than my erring senses, Bellarion. You warned me early that I am not good -at inference. I have suffered as those suffer who are in rebellion -against themselves.' -</p> -<p> -He pondered her, very pale and sorrowful. 'Yes,' he said slowly, 'I have -the fever, as you said awhile ago. It must be that.' -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>THE END</h4> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BELLARION THE FORTUNATE: A ROMANCE ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. 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