The Making of a Saint

  VIII

  The courtiers followed on their master's heels, but the soldiers stoodundecided. Ercole Piacentini looked at us, and spoke in an undertone tothe Captain of the Guard. I thought they were discussing the possibilityof boldly arresting Checco on the spot, which they doubtless knew wouldbe a step very acceptable to Girolamo; but he was surrounded by hisfriends, and evidently, whatever Ercole and the Captain wished, theydared nothing, for the former quietly left the chamber, and thesoldiers, on a whispered order, slid silently from the room like whippeddogs.

  Then the excitement of our friends knew no bounds. I, at the end of thespeech, had seized his hand and said,--

  'Well done.'

  Now he was standing in the midst of all these people, happy and smiling,proud of the enthusiasm he had aroused, breathing heavily, so that acasual observer might have thought him drunk with wine.

  'My friends,' he said, in answer to their praises, and his voiceslightly trembled, so that his sincerity was conspicuous, 'whateverhappens, be sure that I will continue to uphold your rights, and that Iwill willingly give my life for the cause of justice and freedom.'

  He was choked by the violence of his emotion, and could say nothingmore.

  The cries of approbation were renewed, and then, with an impulse to getinto the open air, they surged out of the council chamber into thepiazza. It was not exactly known what had passed in the Palace, but thepeople knew that Checco had braved the Count, and that the latter hadbroken up the meeting in anger. Wonderful rumours were going about: itwas said that swords had been drawn, and there had almost been a battle;others said that the Count had tried to arrest Checco, and this story,gaining credence--some even saying that Checco was being kept aprisoner--had worked the citizens to fever height.

  When Checco appeared, there was a great shout and a rush towards him.'Bravo!' 'Well done!' I don't know what they did not find to say inpraise of him. Their enthusiasm grew by its own fire; they went mad;they could not contain themselves, and they looked about for somethingon which to vent their feeling. A word, and they would have attacked thePalace or sacked the custom-house. They surrounded us, and would not letus pass. Bartolomeo Moratini pushed his way to Checco and said,--

  'Quiet them quickly, before it is too late.'

  Checco understood at once. 'Friends,' he said, 'let me pass quietly, forthe love of God, and do you return to your work in peace. Let me pass!'

  Moving forward, the crowd opened to him, and still shouting, yelling andgesticulating, allowed him to go through. When we arrived at the gate ofhis palace, he turned to me and said,--

  'By God! Filippo, this is life. I shall never forget this day!'

  The crowd had followed to the door, and would not go away. Checco had toappear on the balcony and bow his thanks. As he stood there, I could seethat his head was whirling. He was pale, almost senseless with his greatjoy.

  At last the people were persuaded to depart, and we entered the house.

  We were in Checco's private room. Besides the cousins and myself werepresent Bartolomeo Moratini and his two sons, Fabio Oliva and CesareGnocchi, both related on the mother's side to the Orsi. We were allrestless and excited, discussing the events that had occurred; onlyBartolomeo was quiet and grave. Matteo, in the highest of spirits,turned to him.

  'Why so silent, Messer Bartolomeo?' he said. 'You are like the skeletonat the banquet.'

  'It is a matter for gravity,' he answered.

  'Why?'

  'Why! Good God, man, do you suppose nothing has happened!'

  We stopped talking and stood round him, as if suddenly awakened.

  'Our ships are burnt behind us,' he proceeded, and we mustadvance--must!'

  'What do you mean?' said Checco.

  'Do you suppose Girolamo is going to allow things to go on as before?You must be mad, Checco!

  'I believe I am,' was the answer. 'All this has turned my head. Go on.'

  'Girolamo has only one step open to him now. You have braved himpublicly; you have crossed the streets in triumph, amid the acclamationof the people, and they have accompanied you to your house with shoutsof joy. Girolamo sees in you a rival--and from a rival there is only onesafeguard.'

  'And that--?' asked Checco.

  'Is death!'

  We were all silent for a moment; then Bartolomeo spoke again.

  'He cannot allow you to live. He has threatened you before, but now hemust carry his threats into effect. Take care!'

  'I know,' said Checco, 'the sword is hanging over my head. But he darenot arrest me.'

  'Perhaps he will try assassination. You must go out well guarded.'

  'I do,' said Checco, 'and I wear a coat of mail. The fear ofassassination has been haunting me for weeks. Oh God, it is terrible! Icould bear an open foe. I have courage as much as anyone; but thisperpetual suspense! I swear to you it is making me a coward. I cannotturn the corner of a street without thinking that my death may be on theother side; I cannot go through a dark corridor at night withoutthinking that over there in the darkness my murderer may be waiting forme. I start at the slightest sound, the banging of a door, a suddenstep. And I awake in the night with a cry, sweating. I cannot stand itI shall go mad if it continues. What can I do?'

  Matteo and I looked at one another; we had the same thought. Bartolomeospoke.

  'Anticipate him!'

  We both started, for they were my very words. Checco gave a cry.

  'You too! That thought has been with me night and day! Anticipate him!Kill him! But I dare not think of it. I cannot kill him.'

  'You must,' said Bartolomeo.

  'Take care we are not heard,' said Oliva.

  'The doors are well fastened.'

  'You must,' repeated Bartolomeo. 'It is the only course left you. Andwhat is more, you must make haste--for he will not delay. The lives ofall of us are at stake. He will not be satisfied with you; after you aregone, he will easily enough find means to get rid of us.'

  'Hold your peace, Bartolomeo, for God's sake! It is treachery.'

  'Of what are you frightened? It would not be difficult.'

  'No, we must have no assassination! It always turns out badly. The Pazziin Florence were killed, Salviati was hanged from the Palace windows,and Lorenzo is all-powerful, while the bones of the conspirators rot inunconsecrated ground. And at Milan, when they killed the Duke, not oneof them escaped.'

  'They were fools. We do not mistake as in Florence; we have the peoplewith us, and we shall not bungle it as they did.'

  'No, no, it cannot be.'

  'I tell you it must. It is our only safety!'

  Checco looked round anxiously.

  'We are all safe,' said Oliva. 'Have no fear.'

  'What do you think of it?' asked Checco. 'I know what you think,Filippo, and Matteo.'

  'I think with my father!' said Scipione.

  'I too!' said his brother.

  'And I!'

  'And I!'

  'Every one of you,' said Checco; 'you would have me murder him.'

  'It is just and lawful.'

  'Remember that he was my friend. I helped him to this power. Once wewere almost brothers.'

  'But now he is your deadly enemy. He is sharpening a knife for yourheart--and if you do not kill him, he will kill you.'

  'It is treachery. I cannot!'

  'When a man has killed another, the law kills him. It is a just revenge.When a man attempts another's life, the law permits him to kill that manin self-defence. Girolamo has killed you in thought--and at this momenthe may be arranging the details of your murder. It is just and lawfulthat you take his life to defend your own and ours.'

  'Bartolomeo is right,' said Matteo.

  A murmur of approval showed what the others thought.

  'But think, Bartolomeo,' said Checco, 'you are grey-headed; you are notso very far from the tomb; if you killed this man, what of afterwards?'

  'I swear to you, Checco, that you would be a minister of God'svengeance. Has he not madly oppressed the people? W
hat right has he morethan another? Through him men and women and children have died of want;unhappiness and misery have gone through the land--and all the while hehas been eating and drinking and making merry.'

  'Make up your mind, Checco. You must give way to us!' said Matteo.'Girolamo has failed in every way. On the score of honesty and justicehe must die. And to save us he must die.'

  'You drive me mad,' said Checco. 'All of you are against me. You areright in all you say, but I cannot--oh God, I cannot!'

  Bartolomeo was going to speak again, but Checco interrupted him.

  'No, no, for Heaven's sake, say nothing more. Leave me alone. I want tobe quiet and think.'