CHAPTER IX. THE RETURN
Above in the blessed sunlight, which hurt my eyes--for I had not seenit for a full week--I found Galeotto awaiting me in a bare room; andscarcely was I aware of his presence than his great arms went round meand enclasped me so fervently that his corselet almost hurt my breast,and brought back as in a flash a poignant memory of another man fully astall, who had held me to him one night many years ago, and whose armour,too, had hurt me in that embrace.
Then he held me at arms' length and considered me, and his steely eyeswere blurred and moist. He muttered something to the familiar, linkedhis arm through mine and drew me away, down passages, through doors, andso at last into the busy Roman street.
We went in silence by ways that were well known to him but in whichI should assuredly have lost myself, and so we came at last to a fairtavern--the Osteria del Sole--near the Tower of Nona.
His horse was stalled here, and a servant led the way above-stairs tothe room that he had hired.
How wrong had I not been, I reflected, to announce before theInquisition that I should have no regrets in leaving this world. Howungrateful was that speech, considering this faithful one who loved mefor my father's sake! And was there not Bianca, who, surely--if her lastcry, wrung from her by anguish, contained the truth--must love me for myown?
How sweet the revulsion that now came upon me as I sank into a chairby the window, and gave myself up to the enjoyment of that truly happymoment in which the grey shadow of death had been lifted from me.
Servants bustled in, to spread the board with the choice meats thatGaleotto had ordered, and great baskets of luscious fruits and flagonsof red Puglia wine; and soon we seated ourselves to the feast.
But ere I began to eat, I asked Galeotto how this miracle had beenwrought; what magic powers he wielded that even the Holy Office mustopen its doors at his bidding. With a glance at the servants whoattended us, he bade me eat, saying that we should talk anon. And asmy reaction had brought a sharp hunger in its train, I fell to with thebest will in all the world, and from broth to figs there were few wordsbetween us.
At last, our goblets charged and the servants with-drawn, I repeated myinquiry.
"The magic is not mine," said Galeotto. "It is Cavalcanti's. It was hewho obtained this bull."
And with that he set himself briefly to relate the matters that alreadyare contained here concerning that transaction, but the minuter detailsof which I was later to extract from Falcone. And as he proceeded withhis narrative I felt myself growing cold again with apprehension, justas I had grown cold that morning in the hands of the executioners. Untilat last, seeing me dead-white, Galeotto checked to inquire what ailedme.
"What--what was the price that Cavalcanti paid for this?" I inquired inanswer.
"I could not glean it, nor did I stay to insist, for there was haste.He assured me that the thing had been accomplished without hurt to hishonour, life, or liberty; and with that I was content, and spurred forRome."
"And you have never since thought what the price was that Cavalcantimight have paid?"
He looked at me with troubled eyes. "I confess that in this matter thesatisfaction of coming to your salvation has made me selfish. I have hadthoughts for nothing else."
I groaned, and flung out my arms across the table. "He has paid such aprice," I said, "that a thousand times sooner would I that you had leftme where I was."
He leaned forward, frowning darkly. "What do you mean?" he cried.
And then I told him what I feared; told him how Farnese had suedfor Bianca's hand for Cosimo; how proudly and finally Cavalcanti hadrefused; how the Duke had insisted that he would remain at Paglianountil my lord changed his mind; how I had learned from Giuliana thehorrible motive that urged the Duke to press for that marriage.
Lastly--"And that is the price he consented to pay," I cried wildly."His daughter--that sweet virgin--was the price! And at this hour,maybe, the price is paid and that detestable bargain consummated. O,Galeotto! Galeotto! Why was I not left to rot in that dungeon of theInquisition--since I could have died happily, knowing naught of this?"
"By the Blood of God, boy! Do you imply that I had knowledge? Do yousuggest that I would have bought any life at such a price?"
"No, no!" I answered. "I know that you did not--that you couldnot..." And then I leaped to my feet. "And we sit talking here, whilstthis... whilst this... O God!" I sobbed. "We may yet be in time. To horse,then! Let us away!"
He, too, came to his feet. "Ay, you are right. It but remains to remedythe evil. Come, then. Anger shall mend my spent strength. It can bedone in three days. We will ride as none ever rode yet since the worldbegan."
And we did--so desperately that by the morning of the third day,which was a Sunday, we were in Forli (having crossed the Apennines atArcangelo) and by that same evening in Bologna. We had not slept andwe had scarcely rested since leaving Rome. We were almost dead fromweariness.
Since such was my own case, what must have been Galeotto's? He wasof iron, it is true. But consider that he had ridden this way atas desperate a pace already, to save me from the clutches of theInquisition; and that, scarce rested, he was riding north again.Consider this, and you will not marvel that his weariness conquered himat last.
At the inn at Bologna where we dismounted, we found old Falcone awaitingus. He had set out with his master to ride to Rome. But being himselfsaddle-worn at the time, he had been unable to proceed farther thanthis, and here Galeotto in his fierce impatience had left him, pursuinghis way alone.
Here, then, we found the equerry again, consumed by anxiety. He leaptforward to greet me, addressing me by the old title of Madonnino whichI loved to hear from him, however much that title might otherwise arouseharsh and gloomy memories.
Here at Bologna Galeotto announced that he would be forced to rest, andwe slept for three hours--until night had closed in. We were shaken outof our slumbers by the host as he had been ordered; but even then I layentranced, my limbs refusing their office, until the memory of what wasat issue acted like a spur upon me, and caused me to fling my wearinessaside as if it had been a cloak.
Galeotto, however, was in a deplorable case. He could not move a limb.He was exhausted--utterly and hopelessly exhausted with fatigue andwant of sleep. Falcone and I pulled him to his feet between us; but hecollapsed again, unable to stand.
"I am spent," he muttered. "Give me twelve hours--twelve hours' sleep,Agostino, and I'll ride with you to the Devil."
I groaned and cursed in one. "Twelve hours!" I cried. "And she... I can'twait, Galeotto. I must ride on alone."
He lay on his back and stared up at me, and his eyes had a glassy stare.Then he roused himself by an effort, and raised himself upon his elbow.
"That is it, boy--ride on alone. Take Falcone. Listen, there are threescore men of mine at Pagliano who will follow you to Hell at a word thatFalcone shall speak to them from me. About it, then, and save her. Butwait, boy! Do no violence to Farnese, if you can help it."
"But if I can't?" I asked.
"If you can't--no matter. But endeavour not to offer him any hurt! Leavethat to me--anon when all is ripe for it. To-day it would be premature,and... and we... we should be... crushed by the..." His speech trailed offinto incoherent mutterings; his eyelids dropped, and he was fast asleepagain.
Ten minutes later we were riding north again, and all that night werode, along the endless Aemilian Way, pausing for no more than a draughtof wine from time to time, and munching a loaf as we rode. We crossedthe Po, and kept steadily on, taking fresh horses when we could, untiltowards sunset a turn in the road brought Pagliano into our view--greyand lichened on the crest of its smooth emerald hill.
The dusk was falling and lights began to gleam from some of the castlewindows when we brought up in the shadow of the gateway.
A man-at-arms lounged out of the guardhouse to inquire our business.
"Is Madonna Bianca wed yet?" was the breathless greeting I gave him.
He peered at me, and t
hen at Falcone, and he swore in some surprise.
"Well, returned my lord! Madonna Bianca? The nuptials were celebratedto-day. The bride has gone."
"Gone?" I roared. "Gone whither, man?"
"Why, to Piacenza--to my Lord Cosimo's palace there. They set out somethree hours since."
"Where is your lord?" I asked him, flinging myself from the saddle.
"Within doors, most noble."
How I found him, or by what ways I went to do so, are things that areeffaced completely from my memory. But I know that I came upon him inthe library. He was sitting hunched in a great chair, his face ashen,his eyes fevered. At sight of me--the cause, however innocent, of allthis evil--his brows grew dark, and his eyes angry. If he had reproachesfor me, I gave him no time to utter them, but hurled him mine.
"What have you done, sir?" I demanded. "By what right did you do thisthing? By what right did you make a sacrifice of that sweet dove?Did you conceive me so vile as to think that I should ever owe yougratitude--that I should ever do aught but abhor the deed, abhor all whohad a hand in it, abhor the very life itself purchased for me at such acost?"
He cowered before my furious wrath; for I must have seemed terrific asI stood thundering there, my face wild, my eyes bloodshot, half mad frompain and rage and sleeplessness.
"And do you know what you have done?" I went on. "Do you know to whatyou have sold her? Must I tell you?"
And I told him, in a dozen brutal words that brought him to his feet,the lion in him roused at last, his eyes ablaze.
"We must after them," I urged. "We must wrest her from these beasts,and make a widow of her for the purpose. Galeotto's lances are below andthey will follow me. You may bring what more you please. Come, sir--tohorse!"
He sprang forward with no answer beyond a muttered prayer that we mightcome in time.
"We must," I answered fiercely, and ran madly from the room, alongthe gallery and down the stairs, shouting and raging like a maniac,Cavalcanti following me.
Within ten minutes, Galeotto's three score men and another score ofthose who garrisoned Pagliano for Cavalcanti were in the saddle andgalloping hell-for-leather to Piacenza. Ahead on fresh horses wentFalcone and I, the Lord of Pagliano spurring beside me and pestering mewith questions as to the source of my knowledge.
Our great fear was lest we should find the gates of Piacenza closed onour arrival. But we covered the ten miles in something under an hour,and the head of our little column was already through the Fodesta Gatewhen the first hour of night rang out from the Duomo, giving the signalfor the closing of the gates.
The officer in charge turned out to view so numerous a company, andchallenged us to stand. But I flung him the answer that we were theBlack Bands of Ser Galeotto and that we rode by order of the Duke, withwhich perforce he had to be content; for we did not stay for more andwere too numerous to be detained by such meagre force as he commanded.
Up the dark street we swept--the same street down which I had lastridden on that night when Gambara had opened the gates of the prison forme--and so we came to the square and to Cosimo's palace.
All was in darkness, and the great doors were closed. A strangeappearance this for a house to which a bride had so newly come.
I dismounted as lightly as if I had not ridden lately more than justthe ten miles from Pagliano. Indeed, I had become unconscious of allfatigue, entirely oblivious of the fact that for three nights now I hadnot slept--save for the three hours at Bologna.
I knocked briskly on the iron-studded gates. We stood there waiting,Cavalcanti and Falcone afoot with me, the men on horseback still, asilent phalanx.
I issued an order to Falcone. "Ten of them to secure our egress, therest to remain here and allow none to leave the house."
The equerry stepped back to convey the command in his turn to the men,and the ten he summoned slipped instantly from their saddles and rangedthemselves in the shadow of the wall.
I knocked again, more imperatively, and at last the postern in the doorwas opened by an elderly serving-man.
"What's this?" he asked, and thrust a lanthorn into my face.
"We seek Messer Cosimo d'Anguissola," I answered. He looked beyond meat the troop that lined the street, and his face became troubled. "Why,what is amiss?" quoth he.
"Fool, I shall tell that to your master. Conduct me to him. The matterpresses."
"Nay, then--but have you not heard? My lord was wed to-day. You wouldnot have my lord disturbed at such a time?" He seemed to leer.
I put my foot into his stomach, and bore him backward, flinging himfull length upon the ground. He went over and rolled away into a corner,where he lay bellowing.
"Silence him!" I bade the men who followed us in. "Then, half of youremain here to guard the stairs; the rest attend us."
The house was vast, and it remained silent, so that it did not seem thatthe clown's scream when he went over had been heard by any.
Up the broad staircase we sped, guided by the light of the lanthorn,which Falcone had picked up--for the place was ominously in darkness.Cavalcanti kept pace with me, panting with rage and anxiety.
At the head of the stairs we came upon a man whom I recognized for oneof the Duke's gentlemen-in-waiting. He had been attracted, no doubt,by the sound of our approach; but at sight of us he turned to escape.Cavalcanti reached forward in time to take him by the ankle, so that hecame down heavily upon his face.
In an instant I was sitting upon him, my dagger at his throat.
"A sound," said I, "and you shall finish it in Hell!" Eyes bulging withfear stared at me out of his white face. He was an effeminate cur, ofthe sort that the Duke was wont to keep about him, and at once I sawthat we should have no trouble with him.
"Where is Cosimo?" I asked him shortly. "Come, man, conduct us to theroom that holds him if you would buy your dirty life."
"He is not here," wailed the fellow.
"You lie, you hound," said Cavalcanti, and turning to me--"Finish him,Agostino," he bade me.
The man under me writhed, filled now by the terror that Cavalcanti hadso cunningly known how to inspire in him. "I swear to God that he is nothere," he answered, and but that fear had robbed him of his voice, hewould have screamed it. "Gesu! I swear it--it is true!"
I looked up at Cavalcanti, baffled, and sick with sudden dismay. I sawCavalcanti's eye, which had grown dull, kindle anew. He stooped over theprostrate man.
"Is the bride here--is my daughter in this house?"
The fellow whimpered and did not answer until my dagger's edge was athis throat again. Then he suddenly screeched--"Yes!"
In an instant I had dragged him to his feet again, his pretty clothesand daintily curled hair all crumpled, so that he looked the mostpitiful thing in all the world.
"Lead us to her chamber," I bade him.
And he obeyed as men obey when the fear of death is upon them.