The Honour of Savelli: A Romance

by S. Levett Yeats

  CHAPTER XIX.

  EXIT THE ANCIENT BRICO.

  I had gained my point without waste of words or time, but it was to bemy way or not at all. My lady was in dire peril. Against this could Ifor a moment weigh any thought of myself? What cared I whether France,Spain, or the Borgia ruled in Italy? What mattered it to me whetherone crafty statesman held the reins of power, or another outdid him incraft and filched away his bone? My lady was in danger, and my honourmight rot, and the Most Christian, the Most Catholic, and Most Holywolves might tear each other's throats out before I would move afinger, take one step, until she was free. If I had to pull downBaglioni's hold with my hands, I would free her. If a hair of her headwas injured I should take such vengeance as man never heard of, andthen--my foot caught in the carpeting of the passage, I tripped up andfell heavily, the shock sending stars before my eyes.

  "Too much haste, cavaliere," and a hand helped me to rise. As I gainedmy feet I saw Machiavelli beside me.

  "I followed you at once," he said, "but you went so fast, I had missedyou but for that lucky trip. A word more--if you free her, take her tothe convent of St. Jerome, two miles north-west of Magione--the abbesswill do the rest. I will see to that."

  "Very well. God grant I succeed!"

  "Amen to that," and Machiavelli took my hand. "Adieu, cavaliere, onceagain, I must go back to his eminence, we have a point or two todiscuss yet, but no more Falernian. _Corpo di Bacco!_ I grow cold whenI think of our escape."

  "Good-bye, your excellency," and we parted.

  I went on with a little more care, and being a trifle cooled by myfall, was able to think better. By the time I reached my apartments Ihad decided on my route. I should leave by the Porta del Popolo, keepon the right bank of the river as far as Borghetto, there cross theTiber, and on to Perugia in a straight line by Narni and Todi. It wasclose on three and thirty leagues; but I did not mean to sparehorseflesh. As I reached the entrance which led to my rooms, I foundJacopo and my men ready, and Castor whinnied a glad welcome, pawing atthe air with his forefoot in his impatience. St. Armande and the abbe,already mounted and attended by a couple of men, were a little to theright.

  "I will not keep you a moment, chevalier," I called out as I passedhim, and running up the stairs to my room, began to dress rapidly.Jacopo attended me, and as he handed me my sword, pointed to the openwindow.

  "A fair night for a long ride, excellency!"

  "Yes, the moon stands well--my cloak--quick," and we descended thestairs.

  "All ready, Jacopo?"

  "Your excellency."

  "Steady, Castor," and I swung into the saddle.

  There was the jingle of bit chains, the clank of steel scabbards, thering of iron-shod hoofs on the pavement, and with St. Armande by myside and my troop behind me, I left the Palazzo Corneto.

  To avoid risk of stoppage I did not go down by the Alessandrina to thePonte di San Angelo, but determined to cross at the Ripetta.Therefore, crossing the Borgi di San Angelo, we went northwards by theV. d. Tre Papazzi, up the Via Cancellieri, and then turning to theright, rode up the Via Crescenzio. To our right, as we rode, the moonhung over San Angelo and the dark outlines of the gloomy strongholdloomed like a vast shadow of evil above us. In front of us lay theTiber, and the long line of fires of the charcoal-burners. The latteroverhung by a blue cloud of smoke, into which the forked flames leapedand danced. At the bridge we were stopped by the guard, but thesafe-conduct set us free, and we crossed at a slow pace. Above thehollow beat of the horses' hoofs, I heard the waters churning aroundthe piers, and looking over the side, saw the grey river as it hummedpast below me, flecked with white foam-tipped waves, chasing eachother in lines of light across its surface, or, as they broke,catching the moon rays, and dying in a hundred colours with an angryhiss.

  Over the bridge at last! And here Jacopo with a sudden "_Cospitto!_"put spurs to his horse, and galloped off down the Via Toma. Sounexpected was the movement, that it almost brought us to a halt, andSt. Armande called out--

  "He is gone!"

  "Not he, chevalier," I answered, "come on," and turning to the left wetrotted up the Ripetta. I knew Jacopo too well not to feel sure hewould catch us up again, and that he had some definite object, whichwas not desertion, in going off as he did. Yet I could not help beingput out by his action, and resolved to give him the rough side of mytongue when he came back. We were almost up to the Porta del Popolowhen he returned, coming with a loose rein, and as he drew in with thetroop, I turned round.

  "How now, sirrah! What does this prank mean?"

  "Pardon, excellency, it was no bee that stung me. I suddenlyremembered that we should have little luck on our journey if I did notpay her dues to our Lady of the Fountain."

  "Our Lady of the Fountain?"

  "Excellency, the fountain of Trevi. Does not your worship know that noone should leave Rome without dropping a piece of silver in herbasin?"

  "Indeed! I was not aware of it, but remember--no more sudden thoughtslike this."

  "Excellency!"

  I said no more, and passing through the ruined Porta del Popolo wherethe breaches made by Charles' cannon were still unrepaired, we tookthe Flaminian Way, and galloped down the road almost in darkness owingto the shadows thrown by the high walls on each side of us. Were-crossed the Tiber at the Ponte Molle, and, still keeping the ViaFlaminia, turned our horses' heads in the direction of Castel Nuovo.

  It was a wonderful night. There was no breeze, except that which wemade ourselves as we galloped along. Not a cloud obscured the sky,arching deep blue over the yellow moon, now in her full strength. Tothe left the beacon fire from the top of the Tor di Vergara blazedlike a red star low down in the horizon, and before us was the whiteroad stretching in a ghostly line, its ups and downs accentuated bythe moonlight. The Tiber lay to our right, but owing to the undulationof the ground we could not see it, although an occasional flash showedus where the waters reflected the rays of the moon.

  Not the best horse in the world could keep up the pace we were goingfor long, and I was old enough soldier to know that our speed must beregulated by the slowest beast if we wanted to reach in full strength,so I slackened rein to a walk and gave the animals a rest.

  Excepting once, when Jacopo rode off to make his duty to the Fountainof Trevi, I had not exchanged a word with St. Armande, indeed I was inno mind to talk; but he broke the silence with a question.

  "Do we ride all night, cavaliere?"

  "We have many leagues to go, St. Armande."

  "_Ciel!_" he muttered under his breath, and I heard the abbe as heleaned forward whisper, "Courage! would you give way now? Courage!"

  Clearly there was a mystery here to which I had no clue, and ittroubled me. I glanced at St. Armande, and through the moonlight sawthe white of his cheek, showing all the paler for the black patch hewore transversely across it; but looking at him did not explainmatters.

  "What the devil does this mean?" I said half aloud to myself.

  "Did you speak?"

  "Merely something to myself, chevalier. _Diavolo!_ But this is a dullride."

  "Do you think so?" and his tone softened suddenly.

  I made no reply, but stirred up Castor, and we jogged along. I leftthe mystery to take care of itself, and mapped out a line of action. Iwould take only two men with me into Perugia, and send the rest withSt. Armande to the convent of St. Jerome to await the result of myattempt to free Angiola. It sounded like foolishness to give St.Armande the control of the stronger party, especially if he meanttreachery; but this I was persuaded he did not. On the other hand afollowing of six troopers was a trifle too many to pay a peacefulvisit to Baglioni, and might arouse suspicion, while they were too fewto attempt open force. In short, if I could not do what I wanted withtwo men, I would not be able to effect it with six or a dozen, andmade up my mind to split our party, either after crossing the Paglia,or beyond at San Fortunato.

  In this manner, sometimes galloping, someti
mes trotting, and at othertimes walking our horses to give them a rest, we reached Castel Nuovobut did not enter the town, skirting it by our right, although one ofthe troopers suggested our going westwards by Campagnano, a uselessdetour as it seemed to me. We passed the little town exactly atmidnight, and the chime of bells striking the hour fell pleasantly onour ears. A short way beyond we found the road so cut into ruts andfissures that it was not possible to go at any other than a snail'space, so that within the next two hours we barely covered as manyleagues. The moon was now on the wane, the road became worse, and oneor two of the horses showed signs of fatigue. Jacopo rode up besideme.

  "By your leave, excellency! We have the road by Soratte to cross soon,and in the coming darkness may possibly lose our way. I would suggest,therefore, that we halt here until dawn. It will rest the horses, andwith the light we could press on."

  "Very well. Hark! Is not that the sound of water?"

  "Yes, your worship."

  "Then we will stop there."

  A few yards beyond we came to a ruined temple, near which a fountainwas bubbling. Here I gave the order to halt, and in less timethan I take to write this, the troopers had sprung to earth, thesaddle-girths were loosened, and all the preparations for a two hours'halt begun.

  I shared a little wine with St. Armande and the abbe, and the former,rolling himself up in his cloak, leaned his back against a fallenpillar, and seemed to drop off at once into sleep.

  The abbe followed his example; but my mind was too impatient for rest,and I walked up and down, watching the ending of the moon, until itfinally sank out of sight, and darkness fell upon us.

  Dark as it was around me, my mind was in a still greater darkness, forI was unable to think of any plan by which I could gain access toAngiola, after reaching Perugia. Time, too, was short; but that didnot matter, for I was prepared to let the affair of the ducats slide,rather than lose any chance of rescuing her.

  A straw yet remained. Luck might be on my side; and with luck and astrong heart one might do anything. There was nothing for it but tocontent myself for the present with this. Until I reached Perugia Icould develop no plan. So I paced up and down with an unsettled mind,and finally, seating myself on a stone, awaited the morning,alternately nodding and awakening with a start.

  At last! The east began to whiten, and getting up stiffly, I touchedJacopo with the end of my sword. He jumped up with an exclamation, andrecognising me, began to apologise. This I cut short, and bade himarouse the men.

  "This instant, your worship. _Cospetto!_ To think I should haveoverslept myself! Ho, sluggards! Buffaloes! Awake! Think you that youare going to snore here all night?" and he began to stir the men up.They rose willingly enough, with tremendous yawnings, and stretchingof arms, and we were soon on the march again, through the increasingdaylight.

  The coming day seemed to warm the hearts of the men, and one of thembroke into song, the chorus being taken up by the others as we joggedalong. When this had lasted some little time, I gave Castor's reins ashake, and off we went at a smart gallop.

  Shortly after passing San Oreste the road led along the side ofSoratte, and, the morning being young, besides very bright and clear,we had a glorious view. To the left lay Civita Castellana, the wallsof the new citadel standing high above the town, which lay in themiddle of a network of deep ravines; to the right and behind us theSabine Hills extended in long, airy lines, and the wooded heights ofPellachio and San Gennaro, where, close to Palembara, was an oldcastle of our house, rose to the south-east. Above us was themonastery of St. Silvestre, and Soratte itself reached towards whereBorghetto stood, on a bend of the Tiber, in a series of descendingpeaks. Cool puffs of air caught us, and freshened the horses as wellas our hearts, and it was a cheery party that finally reached thePonte Felice, and entered the town. Here our safe-conduct again stoodus in good stead. Indeed, we had difficulty in getting away, for theCaptain Lippi, who held Borghetto for the Borghia, wished to press hishospitality on us for a few days; but on my eventually taking himaside, and whispering to him that I was bound on a confidentialmission, he gave in, but with some little reluctance. He, however,invited us to share his table at dinner. I accepted, but St. Armande,who was looking very wearied, declined, and dined quietly with theabbe at the "Silver Eel," where I quartered my men.

  Lippi was an old soldier risen from the ranks, with a head more fullof drill than suspicion; but in order to remove any such weed thatmight be growing there, I affected to be so delighted with hisconversation at dinner, that I begged the favour of his accompanyingme for a league or so on my way, after we had dined. To this he agreedwith alacrity, and I was subsequently sorry for my pains, for the oldbore did not quit me until we had all but reached the Nera, and sawthe campanile of St. Juvenalis rising above Narni. We did this portionof the journey at a rapid pace, as I wanted, if possible, to shake offthe captain, but, mounted on an Apulian, he stuck to me like a burr,dinning into my ears his opinion as to how the cross-bow was a weaponas superior to the arquebus as the mangonel was above even Novarro'snew cannon. At length he wished us the day and departed, and thehorses, scenting the end of their day's journey, put on fresh speed aswe galloped through the oaks that studded the valley of the Nera. Theriver here was hemmed into a narrow ravine, and crossing by an ancientbridge of three spans, supposed to have been built by the Romans, weclimbed up the steep ascent that led to Narni, and there found foodand lodging for both man and beast, at an albergo, the name of which,somehow, I have forgotten. St. Armande was quite worn out, and I sawhe was unfitted for any long strain. We supped together, and heretired almost at once. After supper I had a detailed examination ofthe horses, and found that one of them had a sore back. The trooperwho owned him, vowed he would not part with him, so I had to dismissthe man, which I did. This reduced my fighting strength to six men,including Jacopo. I did not include St. Armande and his followers inestimating this, putting them down to so much encumbrance, of which Iwould soon take care to be rid. I was anxious, however, to hurry on,and so altered my original plans a little, and in the morning, afterwe had gone about a league, I turned to St. Armande, and said:

  "Chevalier, it is necessary for me to press on with all speed. I wantyou, therefore, to do me a favour."

  "Anything you like, cavaliere; but we do not part, do we?"

  "It is this. I am going on at once; I want you to take four of mytroopers, and with your own following make for the convent of St.Jerome. It lies a little beyond Magione. Your arrival will beexpected. If not, say you are awaiting me. Await me for a week. If Ido not come then, go back to Rome, and tell the cardinal what you havedone."

  "But I thought I was to go with you, and share your adventure."

  "I give you my word of honour, St. Armande, that you will sharein the adventure for which I agreed you should come--share up to theelbows--but you will spoil everything if you do not do what I say."

  "There is no danger to you?"

  "No more than there is to you; in one word, St. Armande, do you agreeor not?"

  "Very well."

  "Then there is no time to lose. Jacopo!"

  "Excellency."

  "Pick out a man, and he, you, the lackey, and myself, will go onahead. The rest can follow. I have given all other orders to thesignor, St. Armande."

  "There is Bande Nere, your worship."

  "I am ready, cavaliere;" and a tall, thin, grey-moustached troopersaluted as he spoke.

  He looked the man I wanted. My lackey was a stout horseman, and at apinch might hold a sword as well as he held my valise. So, shakinghands with St. Armande, I put spurs to Castor, and we dashed off.Turning the corner of a belt of forest land, I looked back and wavedmy hand in further adieu to the chevalier. I caught the flutter of thewhite handkerchief the young dandy carried, as he loosed it to the airin reply to my salute, and the next moment the trees hid them fromview.

  We rode hard now, Castor going almost as freely as when we started.Indeed, I would have far outpaced the others, if I did not let himfeel the bit
once, and the noble beast, as if knowing his duty,required no further warning not to outstrip his companions.

  Going as we were now Perugia was but a few hours away; but the pacewas too great to last long, and from Todi to Perugia there were nineleagues and a trifle over of an ascending road. Castor might do it,the others I was sure would not. In order, therefore, to rest thehorses, as well as to avoid question, I resolved that we should dineat Rosaro, and after an hour or so of rest press forwards, passing byTodi, and travelling all night, so as to reach Perugia in the morning.If we went faster, we would only reach at night, and so late as tofind entrance into the town impossible.

  We clattered past the villages of San Gemini and Castel Todino, andabout noon drew up our now somewhat blown beasts at the gates of the"Man-at-Arms," the only inn in the village.

  It was a poor place I saw at a glance, and as we pulled up, a crowd ofyokels in holiday attire gathered around us. The inn seemed full, too,for the yard swarmed with people, and a half-score heads of contadiniwere at each window, staring at us open-eyed.

  As I took this in, the landlord came running out, cap in hand and fullof apologies.

  "_Ohime!_ But my house is full to the garrets, signore; and it isnothing I can do for you to-day. To-morrow is the feast of St. Mary ofthe Consolation, and all the country is going to Todi----"

  "I do not want to stay. We merely halt here to bait our horses and todine. Can you not manage that?"

  "If that is all, excellency, yes, oh, yes. The beasts, they can restanywhere, and there is a polenta and room for your excellency'sfollowers; but for yourself, signore," and he shook his headmournfully.

  "What is the difficulty?" And I dismounted, my men following suit.

  "But this, signore. There is but one room in the house you could use,and that is occupied by two gentlemen of the army. Violent men,signore, who will not allow any one to share it. _Lasso me!_ But not apaul have they paid me as yet!"

  "Give them my compliments, and say that the Cavaliere Donati begs tobe allowed a corner of their table for his dinner."

  "Alas, signore! It is useless. They have been here two days----"

  "Then it is time they made room for other travellers. Give my message,landlord, and say I am following."

  Mine host trotted off with considerable misgivings expressed in hisface, and followed by my lackey, bearing my valise, I went after himat a slower pace.

  When I reached the room, which could hardly be missed, seeing it wasthe only one in the house that had any pretence of appearance, I foundthe door open, and heard a half-drunken voice shouting:

  "Begone, dog! Blood of a king! But are two gentlemen to be disturbedbecause a signore with a long name wants to dine? Skull of St. Jerome!Did you ever hear the like of this? _Cospetto!_ Tell him to go hang,or I'll spit him like a lark."

  I heard enough to recognise the voice, and turning to the lackey said:

  "Send Jacopo here at once with a stout cudgel--run."

  The man went off on the double, and I remained without the doorlistening with amusement to the ancient Brico's bluster, for it washe, and he was having all the talk, his companion, whoever he was, nowand then giving a grunt of assent.

  "Mitre and cowl! Hell and sulphur! Will you begone, fool, or shall Islit your windpipe?" and I heard him beat the table with his fist."Out, rascal," he roared, "and bring in another skin of chianti."

  Out came the wretched inn-keeper, and seeing me at the door began tourge me to go; but at this moment Jacopo came running up with a stoutstick in his hand, and pushing the landlord on one side I stepped intothe room, followed by Jacopo.

  Brico's friend, who was quite drunk as it seemed, had fallen asleepwhilst he was talking, and lay with his head between his arms, half onthe table, half on his chair. The ancient was seated with an emptyskin before him, and rose in wrath as I entered.

  "What the----," he began in a wine-blown voice, and then his facepaled a little as he saw me.

  I did not waste words. "Cudgel me this fellow out, Jacopo," I said,and Jacopo attended to the task as if he loved it. The ancientattempted to draw his sword, but it was useless, and a minute or twolater he was flung out into the courtyard, beaten to a jelly andhowling for mercy. He lay where he was flung, too bruised to move.

  His friend slept through it all; but as my lackey lifted up his headin an attempt to eject him, I recognised Piero Luigi, and felt thatsome more stringent action than I had taken with Brico should beadopted here.

  "This man is a thief," I said to the landlord, "and his friend littlebetter."

  "Then to the stocks they go; and now," almost screamed the host, "nota paul have they paid me, signore, I swear this, the bandits. Hi!Giuseppe! Giovanni!"

  A couple of stout knaves came running in, and the innkeeper, tremblingwith anger and fear combined, yelled out:

  "Bind this brigand and his companion securely, keep them in thestables, and to-morrow we will hale them before the podesta."

  I enjoyed my dinner comfortably, and on going out to see after thehorses was met by Bande Nere, who took me aside to where, in a cornerof the stables, two men were lying securely bound. One was Luigi,still happily drunk. The other was the ancient, whose bones must haveached sorely, for he had been beaten sober, and was feeling the fulleffect of the cudgel and the ropes. He was groaning terribly, and,being sorry for the wretch, I was about to intercede for him with thelandlord, when Jacopo interposed with a whispered--

  "Let the scotched snake lie, signore, he knows too much."

  I let wisdom take its course, and left the ancient to his sorrows.