The Making of a Saint

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The Making of a Saint Page 30

by W. Somerset Maugham


  XXIX

  The night fell and was passed without sleep or rest. The citizens weregathered together on the walls, talking anxiously, trying to pierce thedarkness to see the rescuing army from Rome. Now and then someonethought he heard the tramp of cavalry or saw a gleam of armour, and thenthey stood still, holding their breaths, listening. But they heardnothing, saw nothing.... Others were assembled in the piazza, and withthem a crowd of women and children; the churches were full of womenpraying and weeping. The night seemed endless. At last a greaterchilliness of the air told them that the dawn was at hand; gradually thedarkness seemed to thin away into a cold pallor, and above a bank ofcloud in the east appeared a sickly light. More anxiously than ever oureyes turned towards Rome; the mist hid the country from us, but some ofthe watchers thought they saw a black mass, far away. They pointed itout to the others, and all watched eagerly; but the black mass grewneither larger nor clearer nor nearer; and as great yellow rays shot upabove the clouds, and the sun rose slowly, we saw the road stretched outbefore us, and it was empty, empty, empty.

  It was almost a sob that burst from them, and moaningly they asked whenhelp was coming. At that moment a man ascended the ramparts and told usthat the protonotary had received a letter from the Pope, in which heinformed him that relief was on the way. A cheer broke from us. At last!

  The siege began in earnest with a simultaneous attack on the four gatesof the town, but they were well defended, and the enemy easily beatenoff. But all at once we heard a great sound of firing, and shouts, andshrieks, and we saw flames burst from the roof of a house. In ourthought of Lodovico we had forgotten the enemy in our midst, and aterrible panic broke out when it was found that the citadel had openedfire. The Castellan had turned his cannon on the houses surrounding thefortress, and the damage was terrible. The inhabitants hurried out fortheir lives, taking with them their chattels and fled to safer parts ofthe town. One house had been set on fire and for a while we feared thatothers would catch and a general conflagration be added to our woes.People said it was a visitation of God; they talked of Divine vengeancefor the murder of the Count, and when Checco hurried to the scene of thefire they did not care to restrain themselves any longer, but broke outinto yells and hisses. Afterwards, when the flames had been extinguishedand Checco was passing through the piazza, they surrounded him, hooting,and would not let him pass.

  'Curs!' he hissed, looking at them furiously, with clenched fists. Then,as if unable to contain himself he drew his sword, shouting,--

  'Let me pass!'

  They shrank back and he went his way. But immediately he had gone thestorm redoubled, and the place rang with their cries.

  'By God,' said Checco, 'how willingly I would turn the cannon on themand mow them down like grass!'

  They were the first words he had said of the change of feeling....

  It was the same with us, when we walked through the streets--Matteo andI and the Moratini--they hissed and groaned at us. And a week beforethey would have licked our boots and kissed the ground we trod on!

  The bombardment continued, outside and in, and it was reported throughthe town that Lodovico had vowed to sack the place and hang every thirdcitizen. They knew he was the man to keep his word. The murmurs began togrow even louder, and voices were heard suggesting a surrender.... Ithad occurred to all of them, and when the most timid, driven to boldnessby their fear, spoke the word, they looked at one another guiltily. Theygathered together in little knots, talking in undertones, suspicious,stopping suddenly if they saw near anyone who was known to be in favourof the party of Liberty. They discussed how to make terms forthemselves; some suggested giving up the town unconditionally, othersproposed an agreement. At last they spoke of appeasing the Duke byhanding over to him the seventeen conspirators who had planned themurder of Girolamo. The thought frightened them at first, but they soonbecame used to it. They said the Orsi had really had no thought of thecommon good, but it was for their private ends that they had killed theCount and brought this evil on the town. They railed against Checco formaking them suffer for his own ambition; they had lauded him to theskies for refusing the sovereignty, but now they said he had onlyfeigned, and that he intended to seize the city at the first goodopportunity. And as to the others, they had helped for greed and pettymalice. As they talked they grew more excited, and soon they said itwould only be justice to hand over to the Duke the authors of theirtroubles.

  The day passed, and the second night, but there were no signs of thehelp from Rome.

  Another night passed by and still nothing came; the dawn, and the roadwas as empty as before.

  And the fourth night came and went and still there was nothing. Then agreat discouragement fell upon the people; the army was on the way, butwhy did it not arrive? Suddenly here and there people were heard askingabout the letter from the Pope. No one had seen the messenger. How hadit come? And a horrible suspicion seized the people, so that they rushedto the Palazzo Orsi, asking for Savello. As soon as he appeared theybroke out clamorously.

  'Show us the letter!'

  Savello refused! They insisted; they asked for the messenger who hadbrought it. Savello said he had been sent back. None of us had seenletter or messenger; the suspicion seized us too, and Checco asked,--

  'Is there a letter?'

  Savello looked at him for a moment, and answered,--

  'No!'

  'Oh God, why did you say there was?'

  'I felt sure the army was on the way. I wanted to give them confidence.'

  'You fool! Now they will believe nothing. You fool, you have muddledeverything!'

  'It is you! You told me that the city was firm for the Pope.'

  'So it was till you came with your lies and your treacheries.'

  Savello closed his fist, and I thought he was going to strike Checco. Ayell burst from the people.

  'The letter! the messenger!'

  Checco sprang to the window.

  'There is no letter! The protonotary has lied to you. No help is comingfrom Rome nor from Florence!'

  The people yelled again, and another cry arose,--

  'Surrender! Surrender!'

  'Surrender at your pleasure,' shouted Checco, 'but do not think that theDuke will forgive you for stripping the Count and insulting his body andsacking his Palace.'

  Savello was standing alone, struck dumb in his rage. Checco turned tohim and smiled mockingly.

 

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