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Leonora D'Orco: A Historical Romance

Page 9

by G. P. R. James


  CHAPTER IX.

  When Lorenzo awoke--and his sleep was not of such long duration asfully to outlive the darkness--he found more than one person watchinghim. Close by his side sat Ramiro d'Orco, and near the foot of his bedthe lamplight fell upon the well-known face of his faithful follower,Antonio. He felt faint and somewhat confused, and he had a throbbingof the brow and temples, which told him he was ill; but for somemoments he remembered nothing of the events which had taken place thenight before.

  "How feel you, my young friend?" asked Ramiro, in a far more gracioustone than he commonly used; "yet speak low and carefully, for, thoughthe antidote has overwrought the poison, you must long be watchful ofyour health, and make no exertion."

  "You are very kind, Signor Ramiro," replied the young man. "I believeI was wounded last night, and that the blade was poisoned--yes, it wasso, and I owe you my life."

  "I speak not of that, Lorenzo," replied Ramiro; "I am right glad I washere, and could wish much that I could remain to watch you in yourconvalescence, for a relapse might be fatal; but I will trust you tohands more delicate, if not so skilful as my own. Men make bad nurses;women are the fit attendants for a sick room, and your pretty littlecousin, Bianca Maria--as gentle and sweet as an angel--and my childLeonora, whom you know, shall be your companions. I will charge themboth to watch you at all moments, and, under their tender care, Iwarrant you will soon recover. I myself must ride hence ere noon, forI must be in Rome ere ten days are over. Ere that you will be quitewell; and should it be needful that Leonora should follow me, I willtrust to your noble care to bring her on through this distractedcountry. I know you will reverence her youth and innocence for herfather's sake, who has done all he could for you in a moment of greatperil."

  Lorenzo's heart beat with joy at the mere thought. I would have saidthrilled, but, unhappily, the misuse of good words by vulgar andignorant men banishes them, in process of time, from the dictionary.The multitude is too strong for individual worth, and prevails.

  "On my honour and my soul," replied Lorenzo, "I will guard her withall veneration and love, as if she were some sacred shrine committedto my charge."

  A slight irrepressible sneer curled Ramiro's lip, for all enthusiasmsare contemptible to worldly men; but he was well learned in fine wordsand phrases, and had sentiments enough by rote.

  "The mind of a pure girl," he said, "is indeed as a saint in a shrine.Woe be to him who desecrates it. We are accustomed to think of suchthings too lightly in this land; but you have had foreign educationamongst the chivalrous lords of France, in whom honour is an instinct,and I will fearlessly trust you to guard her on her journey throughthe troubled country across which she will have to pass."

  "You may do so confidently, signor," replied Lorenzo, in a bold tone;but then he seemed to hesitate; and raising himself on his arm, aftera moment's thought, he added, "I hope, my lord, you will not considerthat I violate the trust reposed in me, if perchance I should, in allhonour, plead my cause with her by the way. Already I love her with anhonourable and yet a passionate love, and I must win her for my wifeif she is to be won. We are both very young, it is too true; but thatonly gives me the more time to gain her, if you do not oppose. As formyself, I know I shall never change, and I would lose neither time noropportunity in wooing her affections in return. I fear me, indeed," headded, "that I could not resist the occasion, were she to go forwardunder my guard, and therefore I speak so plainly thus early."

  He paused a moment, and then continued, with an instinctiveappreciation of the character of him to whom he spoke, which allRamiro's apparent disinterested kindness had not been able to affect:

  "What dower she may have, I know not, neither do I care. I have enoughfor both, and allied as I am to more than one royal house, were Iambitious--and for her sake I may become so--I could carve me a pathwhich would open out to me and mine high honours and advantages,unless I be a coward or a fool."

  "Well, well, good youth, we will talk more of this another time,"replied Ramiro d'Orco; "you have done nobly and honestly to speak ofit, and it will only make me trust you more implicitly. Coward you arenone, as you have shown this night, and fool you certainly are not.You may want the guidance of some experience, and if you be willing tolisten to the counsel of one who has seen more of life than you, Iwill show you how to turn your great advantages to good account. Itmight not be too vast a scope of fancy to think of a Visconti oncemore seated in the chair of Milan. But I have news for you, one ofyour comrades in arms has arrived during the night, warned, it wouldseem, that some harm was intended you."

  "Who is he?" asked Lorenzo eagerly.

  "Young Pierre de Terrail," answered Ramiro. "He seems a noble youth,and was much grieved to hear that you were suffering. He has broughtsome twenty men with him, whom we have lodged commodiously; but Iwould not suffer him to come up while you were sleeping, asundisturbed repose was most necessary to your recovery."

  Lorenzo expressed a strong wish to see his young comrade; and in a fewminutes he, so celebrated afterwards as the Chevalier Bayard, wasintroduced. He was at this time a youth of about eighteen years ofage, who at first sight appeared but slightly made, and formed morefor activity than strength. Closer observation, however, showed in thebroad shoulders and open chest, the thin flank, and long, powerfullimbs, the promise of that hardy vigour which he afterwards displayed.

  Lorenzo held out his hand to him with a warm smile, saying, "Welcome,welcome, De Terrail! You find me here fit for nothing, while there youare still in your armour, as a reproach to me, I suppose, for notbeing ready to march."

  "Not so, not so, Visconti," said the young hero. "I did not know howsoon you might wake, or how soon I might have occasion to go on toPavia, and therefore I sat me down and slept in my armour, like alobster in his shell. But how feel you now? Is the venom whollysubdued?"

  "Yes, thanks to this noble lord," replied Lorenzo.

  "Nevertheless," rejoined Ramiro, "you will need several days' reposebefore you can venture to mount your horse. Any agitation of the bloodmight prove fatal."

  "Why, he has just been named by the king to the command of a troop inour band," answered De Terrail; "but we must manage that for you,Visconti. We will take it turn and turn about to order your companyfor you till you are well."

  "Nay, I do not intend to have that troop," replied his young friend."It is yours of right, Terrail. You entered full three months beforeme; and I will not consent to be put over your head."

  "I will have none of it," answered the young Bayard. "It is the king'sown will, Visconti; and we must obey without grumbling. Besides, doyou think I will rob a man of his post while he is suffering on myaccount?"

  "How am I suffering on your account?" asked Visconti. "What had you todo with my wound?"

  "Do you not know that I struck this big fellow in the castle court atMilan because he was insolent?" said Bayard. "He vowed he would killme before the week was out, and, depend upon it, he mistook you forme. He knew I was coming hither, and thought I was coming alone; forat first the king ordered me to carry you the news of your nomination,but he afterwards changed his mind, and sent it by the trumpet who wasgoing to Pavia. He might not have killed me as easily as he thought;but he met a still worse playfellow in you, for you killed himinstead. You were always exceedingly skilful with rapier and dagger,though I think I am your equal with the lance."

  "O! superior far," answered Lorenzo. "So he is dead, is he? I have buta confused notion of all that took place last night. I only know thathe attacked me like a wild beast, and I had not even time to draw mydagger."

  "Ay! dead enough," replied De Terrail. "I had a look at him as he liesbelow in the hall, and a more fell visage I never saw on a corpse.Your sword went clear through him, from the right side to the left;and you only gave him what he well merited--the murderous scoundrel,to poison his weapons!"

  "That is a practice which sometimes must be had resort to, when menserve great princes," observed Ramiro, with a quiet smile, "but in aprivate quarre
l it is base."

  "Ay, base enough any way," replied the young Bayard. "However, youhave rid me of an enemy and the world of an assassin, Lorenzo, and Ihope you will not suffer long. But there, the day is coming up in theeast, and I must on to Pavia presently. I had orders last night toride early this morning and mark out our quarters; but when your goodfellow there gave us news of your danger, I came on, by De Vitry'sorder, to see if we could defend you."

  "If you will wait but half an hour, and break your fast with us in thehall," said Ramiro d'Orco, "I will ride on with you, and takeadvantage of the escort of your men-at-arms, Signor de Terrail."

  "Willingly," answered the other; "some breakfast were no bad thing;for, good faith! we supped lightly last night. But I will go and seethat all is ready for departure when we have done our meal."

  He quitted the room, and Ramiro d'Orco soon after followed, promisingto see his patient again before he departed for the South.

  Left alone with his young lord, Antonio drew nearer, and, bending downhis head, said, "I wonder, signor, what charm you have used upon theSignor d'Orco to make his hard iron as soft as soap. Why, he is thepicture of tenderness--Mercy weeping over the guilt of sinners--alineal descendant from the good Samaritan, or of that gentleman fromwhom the Frangipani are descended, or some other of the charitableheroes of antiquity. He was never known to shed a tear that was notproduced by something that tickled his nose, or to laugh except whenhe saw the grimaces of a man broken on the wheel."

  "Hush, hush!" said Lorenzo; "to me he has been very kind, and I mustjudge of people as I find them."

  "Ay, sir, judge when you know them well," answered Antonio. "Yourpardon, excellent lord; but hear a word or two more. He who was morethan a father to you, placed me near you to serve you, not only withmy limbs, but with my tongue--in the way of counsel, I mean. This manhas benefited you. Be grateful to him; but be not the less on yourguard. Give him no power over you, lest he should abuse it. Thesmallest secret in the keeping of a wicked man is a sword over thehead of him who trusted him. If we lock up our own money, how muchmore should we lock up our thoughts. I have seen a mountebank's pigwalk upon his hind legs; but I never saw one that could do it long ata time. If you wait and watch, cunning will always show itself in itstrue colours. The face of a man's nature is always too big for anymask he can buy, and some feature will always be uncovered by whichyou can know the man. No one can cover his whole person with a veil;and if you cannot judge by the face, you can find him out by thefeet."

  "Well, well," said Lorenzo, somewhat impatiently; "open that windowwide, Antonio. My head aches, and I feel half suffocated. Then justsmooth my bed, and put out that winking lamp. I should not have mychamber look like the room of an hospital."

  Quick to comprehend, Antonio did not only what Lorenzo ordered, butmuch more, and set himself busily to give an air of trim neatness tothe apartment, removing his master's bloody clothing which was lyingon the ground, and placing on a stool clean linen and a new suit, buttaking care to move neither the sword nor the arms, which had beencast negligently on the table. There was something picturesque intheir arrangement that suited his fancy, and he let them remain. Butin the course of his perquisitions he came to the silver flagon whichhad been brought by the page, and, after smelling to it, he asked,"Why, what is this?"

  "Nay, I only know that it kept up my strength when I felt as if eachmoment I should die," answered Lorenzo. "I do not think even theantidote he applied to my arm would have been sufficient to save mebut for its aid; the poison was so potent."

  "Doubtless," replied Antonio; "but it gives me a secret how toaccelerate your cure, my good lord--A wet napkin round his head willtake off the head-ache, at all events," he muttered to himself; "butnot just yet. Better let these men depart first.

  "Now, Antonio, sit down and tell me all that has befallen since I sentyou to Milan," said Lorenzo. "Did you find the small picture of mymother where old Beatrice told me it would be found?"

  "Yes, my lord; but the case was much broken," replied Antonio. "Hereit is."

  As he spoke, he produced one of those miniature portraits whichsometimes even the most celebrated artists of the day were pleased topaint, and handed it to Lorenzo. It was fixed in an embossed case ofgilded brass; but as the man had said, the back of the case had beenapparently forced sharply open, so as to break the spring lock and oneof the hinges.

  Lorenzo took it, and, raising himself on his elbow, gazed at thefeatures of a very lovely woman which the picture represented.

  "And this was my mother!" he murmured, after looking at it for a longtime; and then he added, in a still lower tone, "Vengeance is mine,saith the Lord!"

  He then turned the portrait, drew off the dilapidated back of thecase, and read some words which were written round a small oval boxforming part of the frame, but concealed by the case when it wasclosed.

  "A cure for the ills of life!" were the words; and, lifting the lid ofthe box, he beheld several small papers, containing some substancewithin them, discoloured by age.

  "Know you what these are?" he asked of Antonio.

  "No, my lord," replied the man; "poison, I suppose, as death is 'theonly cure for all the ills of life.'"

  "Right!" replied Lorenzo, musing, "right! He told me she had onlyescaped dishonour by death."

  "Ay, my good young lord, I can tell you more of it," answered Antonio."You were a baby then; but I am well-nigh fifteen years older, and Iremember it all right well. I was then in Milan, and----"

  He had not time to finish the sentence ere Ramiro d'Orco entered theroom, followed by Bianca Maria and Leonora. The expression of thecountenance of each of the two girls was somewhat significant of theircharacters, Blanche Marie gazed, shrinking and timid, round the room,as if she expected to behold some ghastly spectacle, till her eyeslighted upon Lorenzo, and then a glad smile spread over her wholeface. Leonora looked straight on, her eyes fixing upon her woundedlover at once, as if divining rather than seeing where he lay; and,walking straight to his bedside, she took the chair nearest, as if ofright.

  "I have brought you two nurses, Lorenzo," said Ramiro; "they will givetheir whole care to you, and you will soon be well. But you mustpromise me, in honour of the skill which has saved your life, that youwill not hazard it by attempting any exercise for several days."

  "I will not," answered Lorenzo, "unless the king's orders especiallyrequire my service. Of course if they do, his orders must be obeyed."

  "Certainly, certainly," replied the other; "but those orders will notcome. He shall hear how near death you have been, and of course willbe considerate. But now farewell. I must go join Monsieur de Terrail.You shall hear from me, when I reach Bologna, concerning what wasspoken of. Till then, I leave you in kind and tender hands."

  Thus saying, he bade him adieu and left him; and Antonio followed,judging perhaps that Lorenzo's two fair companions would affordattendance enough.

 

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