CHAPTER XXIII.
THE PAVILION OF TREMOUILLE.
When I awoke the next morning, my head was still dazed, but I wasotherwise strong. At least, I felt so, as I lay still in my bed, allsense of fatigue gone, and trying to collect my thoughts. After alittle, I glanced round the chamber, which was not the room where Ihad taken the potion, but another and a larger apartment. It was nofancy then, the voices of Jacopo and Bande Nere I heard and thesensation of being lifted and moved, which I experienced in the night.My removal was doubtless effected whilst I was under the influence ofthe drug; but the voice of madame? The almost certainty that she wasby me through the hours of the night? I could not account for this,and seeing any such effort was useless, ceased to rack my brain on thesubject, putting it down to a mad dream. For some while I laymustering up courage to rise, fanned by the mild breeze, which playedin from the open window on my right. Outside I could see the branchesof the trees, as they swayed to and fro in the wind, and the joyoussong of a mavis trilled out sweetly through the morning, from thethorn bushes whence he piped. In about a half hour my head began togrow clearer, I remembered Angiola's letter, and thrust my hand underthe pillow to find it. Of course it was not there, as I had beenmoved, and a short exclamation of annoyance broke from me.
"Excellency!"
It was Jacopo's voice, and the good fellow, who had evidently beenwatching me, came forward from behind the head of the bed.
"Ah, Jacopo! Is it you? Here, help me to rise."
"Signore--but is your worship able--the chevalier----"
"Never mind the chevalier. I am as well as ever, and there was no needof that to-do yesterday--_diavolo!_" and a twinge in my face broughtme up sharply, and recalled Pluto's claws. I put my hand up to myface, and found I was still bandaged.
"It was lucky he only touched your worship."
"Luckier still your being there with your arquebus, else. St. Peterand I had surely shaken hands--there--thanks--I will sit here for afew minutes," and I sank into an easy chair, being really weaker thanI thought I was, the effects more of the narcotic than anything else.
"Will your worship breakfast here?"
"No--but before doing anything, go to the room where I was lastevening, and bring me the letter you will find under the cushions ofthe couch there."
"Excellency!" and Jacopo left the room.
I now for the first time observed a bouquet of red and white roses,whose fragrance filled the chamber. I had been conscious of theirperfume before, but thought the scent was borne in by the breeze fromthe garden outside. Whilst I was admiring the flowers, Jacoporeturned.
"The letter."
"Is not there, signore, I have searched carefully."
It was a disappointment, but I said nothing, having determined to seefor myself. As Jacopo assisted me to dress, I enquired to whom I wasindebted for the flowers.
"I cannot say, excellency; they were here when I came this morning.Possibly the Signor de St. Armande, who was with your worship allnight."
"All night!"
"Signore."
I could not help being touched by this proof of devotion, and when Ihad dressed went down, with the intention of finding my letter, andthanking the chevalier for his kindness. I was, I saw, still a littleweak, but a few hours' rest would make me fit for action, and I couldnot help thinking I had been made much over, on too small an occasion.St. Armande was in the room where I had left the letter, and at thefirst glance I saw he was haggard and worn, with dark circles underhis eyes, eyes which many a beauty would have been proud to own. Heseemed so slim, so small and delicate, as he came to meet me, that myheart began to misgive me again, as to his powers to endure the labourinvolved in the difficult adventure we had before us. He was muchconcerned at my having risen, made many enquiries about my condition,and put aside my thanks.
"_Per Bacco!_ chevalier," I said, "you look more of an invalid than I.I fear me, I shall have to be nurse in my turn."
"It is but a touch of the megrims, I have; but you must not think ofdoing anything for a week."
"Or a month, or a year," I gibed, as I turned over the cushions of thecouch, and in answer to St. Armande's enquiring look, went on, "Theletter I received yesterday--I am certain I left it here."
He came forward to help me, but with no avail.
"It must have been blown away," he said.
"But I put it under the cushions!"
"True--but you forget you were moved, and the things were shifted.Come to breakfast now, and I will have a thorough search madeafterwards."
"Not yet; I will but step over to the convent, and enquire after theLady Angiola----"
"What! With a bandaged face?"
"It is a wound," I answered coldly, and turning, went out of thevilla. My lackey ran forward to enquire if a horse should be madeready; but thinking the walk would do me good, I declined. I was rightin this, the fresh, air acted as a tonic, and when I reached the gatesof the convent, all the giddiness had passed. There, to my dismay, Iheard that Angiola was unable to leave her room, a thing I might haveexpected, and sending a civil message I retraced my steps, enteringthe villa by a side gate, and walking towards it through a desertedportion of the garden. I went leisurely, stopping every now and againto admire the flowers and the trees. In one of these rests, whilst Iidly gazed about me, my eye was arrested by a number of fragments ofpaper, that lay on the green turf at my feet. Yielding to an impulse Icould not control, I stopped and picked up one of the pieces, and sawin a moment it was a piece of Angiola's letter to me. I lost no timein collecting the remaining bits of the paper, and carefully placedthem in my vest pocket. Then I retraced my steps to the villa.
As we sat down to breakfast, the chevalier explained that he had madea further search for the letter, but in vain.
"I ought to have told you," I said, "I have found it."
"Where?"
"In the garden--in shreds and tatters."
He became suddenly very silent, and so we finished our meal. All thatday I rested, more for the horses' sake than my own, and be sure I didnot fail to make frequent enquiry of Angiola's condition, hearing eachtime she was better, and would certainly see me on the morrow. WhilstI lay resting, my mind was active. I cast up the time I had left at mydisposal. I still had four clear days to carry out my mission, and tomake my plans to intercept Bozardo. But after my adventure in PerugiaI had need for extra care, and could not afford to throw away an hourof the four days that were left to me. There were many points to thinkof. Bozardo would no doubt be strongly escorted, and if the fortythousand ducats he had with him were in gold, they would be difficultto carry away, and would be a great temptation to my men. I couldanswer for Jacopo and Bande Nere; of course St. Armande was beyondsuspicion, my doubts of him were at rest; but for the others? Theymight or might not yield to temptation. If they did yield, affairswould be serious indeed. I deliberated long and carefully, making upmy mind to adopt the following course. Tremouille was but a few milesfrom me. I would see him, tell him of the enterprise which D'Amboisehad entrusted to me, and ask him to send a troop, or some trusted men,to whom I could hand over the money in case I succeeded. If he couldsend these men on to Sassoferrato, I meant to ambuscade on the banksof the Misa, make my dash at Bozardo there, and if all went well, theycould receive the money in a few hours, and relieve me of thatanxiety. Of course Tremouille might refuse to see me; he might even doworse; but I would give him the chance and accept the risk.
When I came to think of it, it was hardly possible that he wasunacquainted with the cardinal's design, and I could form no betterplan than the one I had resolved upon. I would have to deny myself thepleasure of seeing Angiola on the morrow, but the four days gave me nomargin. The day's repose did me much good, and, after supper, which wetook about six o'clock, I ordered Castor to be saddled. St. Armandelooked surprised, but I wasted no words, telling him briefly that Iwas bound on business, and that on my return we should have to make animmediate sta
rt. I refused all offer of companionship, and shortlyafter Castor and I were galloping through the glow of a late sunset tothe camp of Tremouille.
I skirted the shores of Trasimene, the road being easier there, and asI went on, could not help wondering to myself what manner of receptionI would have from the duke. Good or bad, I was determined to see him,and I soon caught sight of the line of tents, cresting the hills thatoverhung the defile where Hannibal caught the Romans. The tents weresoon lost to view in the grey of the coming night. One by one the campfires began to light the hills; the mist that rises here after sundownenveloped me, and slackening speed, I let Castor pick his way up anascending road, covered with loose stones, and cut into ruts andfissures. In a while I came to an outpost, and at once challenged bythe sentry, and surrounded by the piquet. I explained that I was fromRome to see the duke, and could not possibly give the pass word. Theofficer of the watch replied that this was my affair, not his, andthat I would have to remain here until the morning, or until a fieldofficer inspected the posts, in which case he would take his orders.There was no help for it, and I resigned myself to circumstances, withan impatient heart So an hour or two passed, which I beguiled bydiscourse with the subaltern, telling him of Rome; he was a cadet ofthe house of Albani, and hearing petty items of news in return, thechief of which was that the Seigneur de Bayard had returned to thecamp. Even as he said this, we heard the deep bay of a hound, and Irecognised Bran's throat.
"_Per Bacco!_ It is Bayard himself going the grand rounds," exclaimedthe subaltern springing to his feet, and giving the order for the mento stand at attention. In a few minutes we heard the sound of horse'shoofs, the sharp clink of steel scabbards, and a half-dozen horsemenrode up. As they approached, Castor neighed in recognition of his twinbrother, and an answering call showed that Pollux knew the greeting,and gave it back. The hound too came up, and rising on his hind feet,fawned a welcome on me. I made myself known to Bayard at once.
"_Ciel!_" he said, "you are the last man I expected to meet, and youwant to see the duke, come with me then."
On the way I told him of the success of my attempt to free Angiola.
"We have just heard of it," he said, "and it has gone far in yourfavour. In fact Madame de la Tremouille, who is back again, couldspeak of nothing else at supper this evening. It was a brave deed, andI envied your luck, cavalier."
I told him of my plan, enquiring if he thought Tremouille would giveme the assistance I wanted, pointing out that the movement of anytroops, where I wanted the detachment to go, could not possibly betaken as a breach of the truce.
"As for the truce," he made answer, "it is in the air. The king hasreally left Macon at last. It is said that the advance guard under theSeneschal of Beaucaire has already crossed the Ombrone. Tremouillecannot possibly refuse, and here we are."
We pulled up at the entrance to a large pavilion, out of whose opendoor a broad band of light streamed into the night.
"Follow me," said Bayard, and I did so, the guards salutingrespectfully as we entered.
I had not time to look about me, but saw that Tremouille, who was inhis armour, was pacing up and down the tent, with his limping gait,and dictating a despatch to his secretary. He stopped short in hiswalk, and greeting Bayard cheerfully, looked at me with a gravesurprise.
"This is M. di Savelli," said Bayard, "he has business of suchimportance with your excellency, that I have taken it upon myself tobring him here."
The duke glanced at me keenly, the thin lines of his lips closingtogether.
"Are you aware of the risk you run by coming to my camp?" he asked.
"I am perfectly aware, your excellency, but----"
"You must either be a fool, or a very brave man," he interrupted.
"I lay claim to neither honour, my lord, and I take the risk: will youhear me?"
He nodded, and I laid my proposal before him. When I had finished hisface expressed approval.
"Very well," he said, "I will detach Hawkwood. If you succeed, handthe money over to him."
"I understand, my lord," and bowing I retired. As I reached the doorof the pavilion, I heard the duke's voice again:
"M. di Savelli."
"My lord," and I faced him.
"Succeed in this, and count me as a friend. I give you the word ofTremouille."
"I thank your excellency," and turning again I went forth. Bayardfollowed me out.
"I have half a mind to ask you to let me share your adventure," hesaid, "I am afraid, however, they will not allow me to go. At any rateI will ride back to the outposts with you--down, Bran," and he swunginto the saddle.
When I shook hands with Bayard on parting from him, his last speechwas--"Be careful, cavaliere, for Tremouille is a man of his word--ifyou fail, however, remember the game is not yet lost--good-bye, andgood luck."
I turned Castor's head towards the convent, and leaving the camp firesbehind me, went on through the darkness. It was midnight when Ireached the villa. Those tough old soldiers Jacopo and Bande Nere wereon the watch. Everything was ready; and after sharing a skin of wineall round, we rode out--shadowy figures through the mist, now faintlylit up by a young moon, whose thin crescent lay quietly in the sky. Ilooked back at the walls of the convent; from a window of an upperchamber a light was shining. Perhaps it was hers! And I bent down myhead in a silent prayer, for God's help in my fight back to honour.
The Honour of Savelli: A Romance Page 24