The Honour of Savelli: A Romance

by S. Levett Yeats

  CHAPTER XXIV.

  TOO DEARLY BOUGHT.

  About a mile from Arcevia, the road from Sinigaglia to Rome, begins toascend the oak-shrouded hills whence the Misa has its source, passesSassoferrato, and then, turning due south, goes on for some nine milesover the mountains. At the point where this road, up to now followingthe banks of the Misa, and advancing in a gentle slope, begins thesomewhat abrupt ascent of the outer chain of the Pennine Alps, on ahigh overhanging rock, covered with twisted and gnarled oaks, stood aruined and deserted castle. It was of the eleventh century, andoriginally belonged to the Malatesta, whose battered and defacedscutcheon frowned over the half-falling arch of the gate. Now it wasownerless, but there were tenants there, for the falcon had made hereyrie in its rocks, in the crannies of the falling towers werenumberless nests of swallows, on the ruined _debris_ of the walls thelittle red lizard basked in the sunlight, and, when the night came,the melancholy hoot of the owl was heard, and tawny fox, and grey wildcat, stole forth on plundering quests, from their secure retreatsamidst the thorn, the wild serpythum, and the fragments of theoverthrown outer wall, which afforded these bandits of nature so safea hiding place.

  For once, however, for many years, the castle was again occupied byman. There were a dozen good horses under the lee of the north wallwhich still stood intact, and in the great hall, part of whose rooflay open to the sky, a fire of oak-logs was burning, whilst around itwere gathered Jacopo and my men, cracking jokes, and finding thebottom of a wine skin. In a smaller chamber, a little to the right, Isat with St. Armande and the abbe. We, that is the chevalier andmyself, had been dicing a little together to kill time, the abbeimproving the occasion by reading from his Breviary. We had now beenhere for three days, on the watch for Bozardo's party, but there wasno sign of them. They had certainly not gone on, for we had carefullyenquired, and were doubtless detained by some reason, of which we knewnot the details. In order not to be taken by surprise, I had sentBande Nere on to scout, with instructions to come back with a freerein, the instant he had news of the party. Two days had passed sincehe went, there was no sign of him, and I was beginning to feel alittle anxious.

  "_Diavolo!_" I exclaimed, "I am getting sick of sitting like a vultureon a rock here. I wish Monsignore Bozardo would hasten his steps."

  The abbe looked up in a mild surprise, and St. Armande put ingently--"The compulsory rest has done your wound good at any rate."

  "I fancy, chevalier, I owe more thanks to your skilful doctoring thanto the rest. _Per Bacco!_ But I think I shall carry those claw marksto my grave."

  "What one carries to the grave does not matter," said the abbe, "it iswhat one carries beyond the grave that the signor' cavaliere shouldthink of."

  "True, reverend sir, I trust I may ever remember that," and rising, Iput my hand on St. Armande's shoulder, "come, chevalier, I go to takea turn outside, will you join me?"

  He rose with pleasure on his face. On our way out we passed throughthe great hall, and listened for a moment to Jacopo, who in a tunefulvoice was singing a Tuscan love song. So absorbed was he and hisaudience, that they did not observe us, nor did our footfalls attractany attention as we passed out into the open air.

  The moon was still young enough for all the stars to be visible, andleaning over the ruined battlements we looked out into the night. Farbelow us we heard the river, murmuring onwards towards the sea, behindus the castle stood grim and silent, a red light showing from thewindows of the hall, through which we could catch the lilting chorusto Jacopo's song.

  For a time neither of us spoke, and then to make some conversation Iturned to my companion.

  "Who is that abbe, chevalier, who accompanies you everywhere? Not atutor surely?"

  "In a way--yes," he answered, "he was born and brought up on ourestates, and is a faithful servant of our house--you must know," hewent on, "that in Picardy, the name of St. Armande is honoured as thatof the king. I would trust Carillon with more than my life; my honour,if need be; for he and his fathers have served us more faithfully Ifear than we have served France."

  "Not more faithfully than you mean to though--eh, St. Armande?"

  "If I live," was the reply, as he made a slight gesture, a movement ofthe head that brought back to me the shadowy memory I was alwaystrying to grasp.

  "Live--why of course you will live," I answered.

  "I shall not see the sun set to-morrow."

  I looked at him blankly for a moment. Moon and stars were sufficientto light his face, so that I could see the sad, far-away eyes, eyesmore fit for a saint than a soldier.

  "_Animo!_ Do not talk like that. It is nonsense," but I felt aforeboding myself that I could not account for, and it chilled me.

  "It is not nonsense," he said in his dreamy voice, and then, as ifrousing suddenly, "Cavaliere--di Savelli--I want you to promise me onething. Do not hesitate; but promise. It is about myself I ask--willyou?" and he held me by the arm with his slight fingers that I feltwere shaking. To soothe him I answered gravely, "I promise."

  "I know that I will not live beyond to-morrow. When I die, bury me asI am--here--here in this ruin--and--and you will not forget me, willyou?"

  As he said this his voice took a cadence, his face took an expressionthat suddenly brought back a hundred old memories, no longer vague andmisty, but clear and distinct. In a moment the scales fell from myeyes, and I saw. I seemed to be once more hawking on the banks of theChiana with madame, I was once more in the aisles of the church atArezzo, treading down temptation, and bidding farewell to a woman whowas trying to be strong.

  "God in heaven!" I gasped to myself as I leaned back against theparapet, and drew my hand across my forehead, as if to wake myselffrom a dream. St. Armande did not notice my exclamation, he did noteven observe my movement. His own excitement carried him away.

  "Promise," he said, and shook my arm in his earnest entreaty.

  "As there is a God above me I promise."

  "I believe you," he said simply, "and now I am going in."

  I made no offer to bear him company, and his slight figure driftedinto the moonlight. I saw it clearly again, making a dark bar againstthe red glare in the open door of the hall, and then vanished fromview. I was utterly thunderstruck by the discovery I had made. Ahundred actions, a hundred tricks of gesture, of speech, of manner,should have disclosed St. Armande's identity to me. Now I knew it, itwas all so simple and clear, that I wondered at my denseness in nothaving guessed through the disguise before. Now that I had discoveredit however, now that my blindness was cured, what was I to do? Iresolved on keeping the secret I had probed, and never once lettingSt. Armande know he was other than what he pretended to be. A greatpity came up in my heart, for there was a time when I almost thought Iloved this woman, and it required little conceit to see, after whathad happened, that madame was prepared to make almost any sacrificefor my sake. I was sorry, more sorry than I can tell, for I knew myown hands were not clean in this matter, and I paced up and down,flinging bitter reproaches at myself, and utterly at a loss to planout some way of escaping from the difficulty in which I was placed. Imade up my mind that St. Armande, as I will still speak of thedisguised chevalier, should be placed in no danger, resolving that assoon as the affair on which we were engaged was over, that I wouldsend him, or rather her, with a message to the cardinal, and themessage was to be one that, I hoped and trusted, would have the effectof making madame cease her foolish prank--I had it at this momentalmost in my heart to be angry with her; but I could not, for thesmall voice that kept whispering to me--

  "Thou art not free from blame." I was not; but nothing would induce meto add another wrong to the one I had committed. That in itself wassufficient to haunt me to the grave, and I shivered as I thought ofthe abbe's words, "It is what one carries beyond the grave that theSignor Cavaliere should think of."

  So alternately reproaching myself, and praying for aid, prayers thatbrought no relief, I passed the night, and in the small
hours of themorning stole back into the castle. Round the fire in the great hall,the figures of my followers were stretched, all but one, who keptwatch, but recognising me did not challenge. I passed by softly, andentered the other room. The abbe had dropped asleep over his breviary,the lamp burning low beside him.

  Rolled in a cloak, and half reclining against a saddle, St. Armandewas in a profound slumber. I took the lamp in my hand, and holding italoft, surveyed the sleeping figure. A last hope had come to my mindthat I was mistaken, that perhaps I was jumping too quickly toconclusions. But no, there was not a doubt of it. There could be nomistaking that fair face with its delicate features, the straightnose, the curved bow of the lips, half hidden under its disguise, thesmall shapely head with its natural curls of short golden hair--oh! Iknew all these too well. It was Doris d'Entrangues without shadow ofdoubt, and no blind beggar, who groped his way through a life-longdarkness, was blinder than I had been. I set down the lamp softly, andwith a sick heart stepped back into the hall, where I found room formyself until the morning, which indeed it was already. With thesunrise, I was awakened from a fitful sleep by hearing Bande Nere'svoice.

  "What news?" I asked as I drew the old soldier aside.

  "I have been as far as Sinigaglia, excellency, and all goes well. Theparty left Sinigaglia the morning I arrived, and I followed in theirtrack, letting them keep well ahead of me to avoid suspicion. Lastnight, however, I passed them. They will be here about noon, maybe alittle before."

  "The numbers?"

  "Ten lances, excellency, for escort. It is those we have to deal with.Then there are about a score of mounted servants, four laden mules,and Monsignore Bozardo."

  "_Um!_ That is rather strong, if the servants carry weapons."

  "But they march as through a friendly country, signore, the servantsgoing on ahead to prepare for Monsignore's arrival. He himself keepsclose to the mules, with one or two men, and of course the escort."

  "Do you know who commands the escort?"

  "No, excellency--I did not wish to risk anything, and asked noquestions."

  "You are right, and have done well--here are ten crowns."

  "Your excellency is generosity itself."

  "It is not more than you deserve. Go and get something to eat now, andtake as much rest as you can within the next hour."

  "Excellency," and Bande Nere stepped back to join his fellows, whosurrounded him with eager questions, and there was a bustling and abuckling-to of arms and armour.

  When we met a little later my face showed no signs of my discovery toSt. Armande, and whilst we breakfasted together I told him that thetime was come for which we had been waiting.

  "Remember your promise," he said with an affected gaiety, but hisvoice nearly broke down and I saw the abbe glance at him with a deepcompassion.

  "I will not forget," I answered, "but God grant there may be no needto keep it."

  "I should say 'Amen' to that," he answered, "only I cannot."

  My plans were already made, and as soon as we had breakfasted we setforth from the castle. The road, as I have already explained, ascendedabruptly a short distance from the base of the rock on which thecastle was perched. Between the base of the rock and the road was anarrow but thick belt of forest, which afforded admirable concealment,and here we posted ourselves secure from all view. The abbe and St.Armande insisted on accompanying us, and in order to put the chevalierfrom harm I placed him a little way up the rock, with instructions tocharge down as soon as he heard my whistle, which I never intended toblow. The abbe took his station beside him, saying where the chevalierwas it was his duty to be. St. Armande held out a small hand to me asI was turning away, and I took it gently for a moment in mine. Thequick impulsive movement reminded me much of that day when madame hadheld the flowers I gathered to her husband's face. Something almostchoked me as I turned away hastily, having only strength to repeat mywarning--

  "Do not move till you hear my whistle."

  I borrowed an arquebus from one of my men, and the arrangement wasthat we were to charge out after a volley, the first shot of which Iwas to fire. All being now ready, it was only necessary for us towait. I would merely add that in order to prevent discovery by theneighing of the horses, we had muzzled ours as far as possible. Therewas now a dead silence, that was only broken by the rustle of theleaves overhead, an occasional crack amongst the dry boughs as asquirrel moved against them, or the uneasy movement of a horse, whichcaused a clink of a chain-bit, and a straining sound made by theleathers of the saddlery, that was not in reality so loud as itseemed; but caused Jacopo and Bande Nere to scowl fiercely at theunfortunate rider, a scowl which was only equalled by their ownstolidly impassive faces, when their own beasts sinned. We had notlong to wait; presently we heard voices shouting, the clatter ofhorses trotting, a rapid reining in at the ascent, and a number offollowers and lackeys, some mounted on horses, others on mules, withled mules beside them, came past, and went on, heedless of the eagerfaces watching them through the trees. One or two of our horses becameso uneasy that I was afraid of immediate discovery, but so occupiedwere the knaves in babbling together, all at once, that what withthis, and the thwacking of their animals, and in some cases theefforts to remain on, we remained unnoticed. Then there was a shortinterval, and the suspense was strained to breaking point. In a whilewe heard the firm beat of a war-horse's hoof, and our quarry came inview. First came Monsignore Bozardo, a tall thin man, wrapped in apurple cloak, with a fur cap on his head. He rode a strong amblingmule, and by his side was the commander of the escort. Immediatelybehind were four troopers, then the mules with the ducats, behindthese again six other lances, whilst the rear was brought up byhalf-a-dozen lackeys, without a sword amongst them. But what struck mealmost dumb with surprise was that the leader of the escort was noneother than D'Entrangues himself. There could be no mistake, his visorwas up, and I saw the sallow face, the long red moustaches, and almostcaught the cold glint of his cruel eye. At last! I raised my arquebusand covered him. At last! But a touch of my finger and the man wasdead. I could not miss, my heart was mad within me, but my wrist asfirm as steel. In another moment he would be dead, dead, and myrevenge accomplished. It was already in my hand. I looked aside for asecond at the line of breathless faces watching me, then back again tothe muzzle of my weapon. D'Entrangues was now not twenty yards away. Icould scarcely breathe as I pointed the arquebus at his heart. I hadalready begun to press the trigger, when something seemed to comeacross my mind like lightning. I saw in a moment that lonely room inthe Albizzi Palace, where I had kneeled to my God and sworn to putaside my vengeance. The weapon shook in my grasp.

  "Fire, signore," whispered Jacopo hoarsely.

  With an effort I jerked the muzzle in the air, and pulled the trigger.The report was followed by four others, and two of the troopers fell.The next moment we were on them with a shout, and there was the clashof steel, as fierce blows were struck and received, now and again ashort angry oath, and sometimes a cry of pain. I did not want to takelife, but a trooper came at me, so I had to run him through the heart,and the man fell forward under Castor's hoofs, with a yell I shallnever forget. The next instant D'Entrangues and I crossed blades, andwhether he recognised me or not I do not know, but he fought with askill and fierceness I have never seen equalled. At last I lost mytemper, and cut savagely at him. He parried on the forte of his blade,but so furious was the stroke that it broke the weapon in his hand,and almost unhorsed him. Reining back skilfully he avoided another cutI made at him, and drawing a wheel lock pistol from his holster, firedit straight at me. At the flash, someone dashed between us. I heard ascream which froze the blood in me, and a body lurched forwards andfell to my side, whilst a riderless horse plunged through the press,and galloped away. I saw the light of the golden head as it fell, andforgetting everything, forgetting D'Entrangues, forgetting all but thefact that a dreadful deed was done, I sprang down from Castor, andraised St. Armande in my arms. As I did this a hoarse yell from my mentold me the day was won; but I h
ad no ears for this, no eyes foranything, except the slight figure, which lay in my arms gasping outits life.

  "Congratulations, signore, we have taken the lot," and Jacopo,bleeding and dusty, rode up beside me.

  "At too great a price," I groaned; "help me to carry----," I could sayno more.

  "Here, two of you secure those mules--Bande Nere, see to thewounded--Queen of Heaven--the chevalier----" and Jacopo, giving hissharp orders, sprang down beside me, and together we bore ourunconscious burden under the shadow of the oaks. A dark figure steppedto our side, and kneeling down supported the lifeless head on his arm,whilst hot tears fell from his eyes, as he prayed over her. It was theabbe.

  "How did this happen?" I asked, "did I not say you were not to move?"

  "It was done at once," he answered, "I could not prevent it--alas! Howcan I carry this tale back to St. Armande?"

  "Water, excellency."

  Jacopo had brought some clear water in his helmet. I thanked him witha look, and he stepped back, leaving us three together, two who wereliving, and one who was going away.

  I bathed the forehead and drawn lips, from which flowed a thin streamof blood, and as I did so her eyes opened, but the film of death wason them.

  "Di Savelli--Ugo--," and she was gone.

  Gone like a flash, flung swiftly and fast into eternity, struck down,perhaps unwittingly, by the arm which should have been a shield toher. I have often wondered if D'Entrangues ever knew who fell to hispistol shot. If he did, God pity him! In the one glimpse I caught ofhis white face, as he swung round and rode off, I thought I saw a lookof horror. But everything went so quickly, that then I had no time tothink, and now I can recall but the end.

  To her dead lips Carillon pressed his crucifix, into her dead ears hemumbled prayers. I knelt tearless, and prayerless, beside him,thinking only of the great love that had laid down a life.

  One by one my men stole up, and stood in a half circle, leaning on thecross-handles of their swords, over which the grim, bearded faceslooked down on us in pity.

  Suddenly Carillon raised his crucifix aloft.

  "My Father," he cried, "receive her soul!"

  And someone said softly,

  "Amen!"