At that sight a great silence swept across the multitude, and availing himself of this, Galeotto again addressed those Piacentini.
"To your homes," he cried to them, "and arm yourselves to defend the State from your enemies if the need should arise. There hangs the Duke—dead. He has been slain to liberate our country from unjust oppression."
Still, it seemed, they did not hear him; for though to us they appeared to be almost silent, yet there was a rustle and stir amongst them, which must have deafened each to what was being announced.
They renewed their cries of "Duca!" of "Spaniards!" and "To arms!"
"A curse on your 'Spaniards'!" cried Malvicini. "Here! Take your Duke. Look at him, and understand." And he slashed the rope across, so that the body plunged down ink the castle ditch.
A few of the foremost of the crowd ran forward and scrambled down into the ditch to view the body, and from them the rumour of the truth ran like a ripple over water through that mob, so that in the twinkling of an eye there was no man in that vast concourse—and all Piacenza seemed by now to be packed into the square—but knew that Pier Luigi Farnese was dead.
A sudden hush fell. There were no more cries of "Duca!" They stood silent, and not a doubt but that in, the breasts of the majority surged a great relief. Even the militia ceased to advance. If the Duke was dead there was nothing left to do.
Again Galeotto spoke to them, and this time his words were caught by those in the ditch immediately below us, and from them they were passed on, and suddenly a great cry went up—a shout of relief, a pæan of joy. If Farnese was dead, and well dead, they could, at last, express the thing that was in their hearts.
And now at the far end of the square a glint of armour appeared; a troop of horse emerged, and began slowly to press forward through the crowd, driving it back on either side, but very gently. They came three abreast, and there were six score of them, and from their lance-heads fluttered bannerols showing a sable bar on an argent field. They were Galeotto's free company, headed by one of his lieutenants. Beyond the Po they too had been awaiting the salvo of artillery that should be their signal to advance.
When their identity was understood, and when the crowd had perceived that they rode to support the holders of the castle, they were greeted with lusty cheers, in which presently even the militia joined, for these last were Piacentini and no Swiss hireling soldiers of the Duke's.
The drawbridge was let down, and the company thundered over it to draw up in the courtyard under the eyes of Galeotto. He issued his orders once more to his companions. Then calling for horses for himself and for me, and bidding a score of lances to detach themselves to ride with us, we quitted the fortress.
We pressed through the clamant multitude until we had reached the middle of the square. Here Galeotto drew rein and, raising his hand for silence, informed the people once more that the Duke had been done to death by the nobles of Piacenza, thus to avenge alike their own and the people's wrongs, and to free them from unjust oppression and tyranny.
They cheered him when he had done, and the cry now was "Piacenza! Piacenza!"
When they had fallen silent again—"I would have you remember," he cried, "that Pier Luigi was the Pontiff's son, and that the Pontiff will make haste to avenge his death and to re-establish here in Piacenza the Farnese sway. So that all that we have done this day may go for naught unless we take our measures."
The silence deepened.
"But you have been served by men who have the interest of the State at heart; and more has been done to serve you than the mere slaying of Pier Luigi Farnese. Our plans are made, and we but wait to know is it your will that the State should incorporate itself as of old with that of Milan, and place itself under the protection of the Emperor, who will appoint you fellow-countrymen for rulers, and will govern you wisely and justly, abolishing extortion and oppression?"
A thunder of assent was his answer. "Cesare! Cesare!" was now the cry, and caps were tossed into the air.
"Then go arm yourselves and repair to the Commune, and there make known your will to the Anziani and councillors, and see that it is given effect by them. The Emperor's Lieutenant is at your gates. I ride to surrender to him the city in your name, and before nightfall he will be here to protect you from any onslaught of the Pontificals."
With that he pushed on, the mob streaming along with us, intent upon going there and then to do the thing that Galeotto advised. And by now they had discovered Galeotto's name, and they were shouting it in acclamation of him, and at the sound he smiled, though his eyes seemed very wistful.
He leaned over to me, and gripped my hand where it lay on the saddle-bow clutching the reins.
"Thus is Giovanni d'Anguissola at last avenged!" he said to me in a deep voice that thrilled me.
"I would that he were here to know," I answered. And again Galeotto's eyes grew wistful as they looked at me.
We won out of the town at last, and when we came to the high ground beyond the river, we saw in the plain below phalanx upon phalanx of a great army. It was Ferrante Gonzaga's Imperial force.
Galeotto pointed to it. "That is my goal," he said. "You had best ride on to Pagliano with these lances. You may need them there. I had hoped that Cosimo would have been found in the castle with Pier Luigi. His absence makes me uneasy. Away with you, then. You shall have news of me within three days."
We embraced, on horseback as we were. Then he wheeled his charger and went down the steep ground, riding hard for Ferrante's army, whilst we pursued our way, and came some two hours later without mishap to Pagliano.
I found Bianca awaiting me in the gallery above the courtyard, drawn thither by the sounds of our approach.
"Dear Agostino, I have been so fearful for you," was her greeting when I had leapt up the staircase to take her hand.
I led her to the marble seat she had occupied on that night, two years ago, when first we had spoken of our visions. Briefly I gave her the news of what had befallen in Piacenza.
When I had done, she sighed and looked at me.
"It brings us no nearer to each other," she said.
"Nay, now—this much nearer, at least, that the Imperial decree will return me the lordships of Mondolfo and Carmina, dispossessing the usurper. Thus I shall have something to offer you, my Bianca."
She smiled at me very sadly, almost reproachfully.
"Foolish," said she. "What matter the possessions that it may be yours to cast into my lap? Is that what we wait for, Agostino? Is there not Pagliano for you? Would not that, at need, be lordship enough?"
"The meanest cottage of the countryside were lordship enough so that you shared it," I answered passionately, as many in like case have answered before and since.
"You see, then, that you are wrong to attach importance to so slight a thing as this Imperial decree where you and I are concerned. Can an Imperial decree annul my marriage?"
"For that a papal bull would be necessary."
"And how is a papal bull to be obtained?"
"It is not for us," I admitted miserably.
"I have been wicked," she said, her eyes upon the ground, a faint colour stirring in her cheeks. "I have prayed that the usurper might be dispossessed of his rights in me. I have prayed that when the attack was made and revolt was carried into the Citadel of Piacenza, Cosimo d'Anguissola might stand at his usual post beside the Duke and might fall with him. Surely justice demanded it!" she cried out. "God's justice, as well as man's. His act in marrying me was a defilement of one of the holiest of sacraments, and for that he should surely be punished and struck down!"
I went upon my knees to her. "Dear love!" I cried. "See, I have you daily in my sight. Let me not be ungrateful for so much."
She took my face in her hands and looked into my eyes, saying no word. Then she leaned forward, and very gently touched my forehead with her lips.
"God pity us a little, Agostino," she murmured, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
"The fault is mine—
all mine!" I denounced myself. "We are being visited with my sins. When I can take you for my own—if that blessed day should ever dawn—I shall know that I have attained to pardon, that I am cleansed and worthy of you at last."
She rose, and I escorted her within; then went to my own chamber to bathe and rest.
CHAPTER XIV
THE CITATION
WE were breaking our fast upon the following morning when Falcone sent word to me by one of the pages that a considerable force was advancing towards us from the south.
I rose, somewhat uneasy. Yet I reflected that it was possible that, news of the revolt in Piacenza having reached Parma, this was an army of Pontificals moving thence upon the rebellious city. But in that case, what should they be doing this side of Po?
An hour later, from the battlements where we paced side by side—Bianca and I—we were able to estimate this force, and we fixed its strength at five score lances. Soon we could make out the device upon their bannerols—a boar's head azure upon an argent field—my own device, that of the Anguissola of Mondolfo; and instantly I knew them for Cosimo's men.
On the lower parapet six culverins had been dragged into position under the supervision of Falcone—who was still with us at Pagliano. These pieces stood loaded and manned by the soldiers to whom I had assigned the office of engineers.
Thus we waited until the little army came to a halt about a quarter of a mile away, and a trumpeter with a flag of truce rode forward accompanied by a knight armed cap-à-pie, his beaver down.
The herald wound a challenge; and it was answered from the postern by a man-at-arms, whereupon the herald delivered his message.
"In the name of our Holy Father and Lord, Paul III, we summon Agostino d'Anguissola here to confer with the High and Mighty Cosimo d'Anguissola, Tyrant of Mondolfo and Cannula."
Three minutes later, to their infinite surprise, the bridge thudded down to span the ditch, and I walked out upon it with Bianca at my side.
"Will the Lord Cosimo come within to deliver his message?" I demanded.
The Lord Cosimo would not, fearing a trap.
"Will he meet us here upon the bridge, divesting himself first of his weapons? Myself I am unarmed."
The herald conveyed the words to Cosimo, who hesitated still. Indeed, he had wheeled his horse when the bridge fell, ready to gallop off at the first sign of a sortie.
I laughed. "You are a paltry coward, Cosimo, when all is said," I shouted. "Do you not see that had I planned to take you, I need resort to no subterfuge? I have," I added—though untruthfully—"twice your number of lances under arms, and by now I could have flung them across the bridge and taken you under the very eyes of your own men. You were rash to venture so far. But if you will not venture farther, at least send me your herald."
At that he got down from his horse, delivered up sword and dagger to his single attendant, received from the man a parchment, and came towards us, opening his vizor as he advanced. Midway upon the bridge we met. His lips curled in a smile of scorn.
"Greetings, my strolling saint," he said. "Through all your vagaries you are at least consistent in that you ever engage your neighbour's wife to bear you company in your wanderings."
I went hot and cold, red and white by turns. With difficulty I controlled myself under that taunt—the cruellest he could have flung at me in Bianca's hearing.
"Your business here?" I snarled.
He held out the parchment, his eyes watching me intently, so that they never once strayed to Bianca.
"Read, St. Mountebank," he bade me.
I took the paper, but before I lowered my eyes to it, I gave him warning.
"If on your part you attempt the slightest treachery," I said, "you shall be repaid in kind. My men are at the winches, and they have my orders that at the first treacherous movement on your part they are to take up the bridge. You will see that you could not reach the end of it in time to save yourself."
It was his turn to change colour under the shadow of his beaver. "Have you trapped me?" he asked between his teeth.
"If you had anything of the Anguissola besides the name," I answered, "you would know me incapable of such a thing. It is because I know that of the Anguissola you have nothing but the name, that you are a craven, a dastard and a dog, that I have taken my precautions."
"Is it your conception of valour to insult a man whom you hold as if bound hand and foot against striking you as you deserve?"
I smiled sweetly into that white, scowling face. "Throw down your gauntlet upon this bridge, Cosimo, if you deem yourself affronted, if you think that I have lied; and most joyfully will I take it up and give you the trial by battle of your seeking."
For an instant I almost thought that he would take me at my word, as most fervently I hoped. But he restrained himself.
"Read!" he bade me again, with a fierce gesture. And accounting him well warned by now, I read with confidence.
It was a papal brief ordering me under pain of excommunication and death to make surrender to Cosimo d'Anguissola of the Castle of Pagliano which I traitorously held, and of the person of his wife, Madonna Bianca.
"This document is not exact," said I. "I do not hold this castle traitorously. It is an Imperial fief, and I hold it in the Emperor's name."
He smiled. "Persist if you are weary of life," he said. "Surrender now, and you are free to depart and go wheresoever you list. Continue in your offence, and the consequences shall daunt you ere all is done. This Imperial fief belongs to me, and it is for me, who am Lord of Pagliano by virtue of my marriage and the late lord's death, to hold it for the Emperor.
"And you are not to doubt that when this brief is laid before the Emperor's Lieutenant at Milan, he will move instantly against you to cast you out and to invest me in those rights which are mine by God's law and man's alike."
My answer may, at first, have seemed hardly to the point. I held out the brief to him.
"To seek the Emperor's Lieutenant you need not go as far as Milan. You will find him in Piacenza."
He looked at me, as if he did not understand. "How?" he asked.
I explained. "While you have been cooling your heels in the antechambers of the Vatican to obtain this endorsement of your infamy, the world hereabouts has moved a little. Yesterday Ferrante Gonzaga took possession of Piacenza in the Emperor's name. Today the Council will be swearing fealty to Cæsar upon his Lieutenant's hands."
He stared at me for a long moment, speechless in his utter amazement. Then he swallowed hard.
"And the Duke?" he asked.
"The Duke has been in Hell these four-and-twenty hours."
"Dead?" he questioned, his voice hushed.
"Dead," said I.
He leaned against the rail of the bridge, his arms fallen limply to his sides, one hand crushing the Pontifical parchment. Then he braced himself again. He had reviewed the situation, and did not see that it hurt his position, when all was said.
"Even so," he urged, "what can you hope for? The Emperor himself must bow before this, and do me justice." And he smacked the document. "I demand my wife, and my demand is backed by Pontifical authority. You are mad if you think that Charles V can fail to support it."
"It is possible that Charles V may take a different view of the memorial setting forth the circumstances of your marriage, from that which the Holy Father appears to have taken. I counsel you to seek the Imperial Lieutenant at Piacenza without delay. Here you waste time."
His lips closed with a snap. Then, at last, his eyes wandered to Bianca, who stood just beside and slightly behind me.
"Let me appeal to you, Monna Bianca . . ." he began.
But at that I got between them. "Are you so dead to shame," I roared, "that you dare address her, you pimp, you jackal, you eater of dirt? Be off, or I will have this drawbridge raised and deal with you here and now, in despite of Pope and Emperor and all the other powers you can invoke. Away with you, then!"
"You shall pay!" he snarled. "By God, you shall pa
y!"
And on that he went off, in some fear lest I should put my threat into execution.
But Bianca was in a panic. "He will do as he says," she cried as soon as we had re-entered the courtyard. "The Emperor cannot deny him justice. He must, he must! O, Agostino, it is the end. And see to what a pass I have brought you!"
I comforted her. I spoke brave words. I swore to hold that castle as long as one stone of it stood upon another. But deep down in my heart there was naught but presages of evil.
On the following day, which was Sunday, we had peace. But towards noon on Monday the blow fell. An Imperial herald from Piacenza rode out to Pagliano with a small escort.
We were in the garden when word was brought us, and I bade the herald be admitted. Then I looked at Bianca. She was trembling and had turned very white.
We spoke no word whilst they brought the messenger—a brisk fellow in his black-and-yellow Austrian livery. He delivered me a sealed letter. It proved to be a summons from Ferrante Gonzaga to appear upon the morrow before the Imperial Court which would sit in the Communal Palace of Piacenza to deliver judgment upon an indictment laid against me by Cosimo d'Anguissola.
I looked at the herald, hesitation in my mind and glance. He held out a second letter.
"This, my lord, I was asked by favour to deliver to you also."
I took it, and considered the superscription:
"These to the Most Noble Agostino d'Anguissola, at Pagliano.
Quickly.
Quickly.
Quickly."
The hand was Galeotto's. I tore it open. It contained but two lines:
"Upon your life do not fail to obey the Imperial summons. Send Falcone to me here at once." And it was signed—"GALEOTTO."
"It is well," I said to the herald, "I will not fail to attend."
I bade the seneschal who stood in attendance to give the messenger refreshment ere he left, and upon that dismissed him.
When we were alone I turned to Bianca. "Galeotto bids me go," I said. "There is surely hope."
She took the note, and passing a hand over her eyes, as if to clear away some mist that obscured her vision, she read it. Then she considered the curt summons that gave no clue, and lastly looked at me.