The Honour of Savelli Part 31

"Fairly so, excellency--about twenty crowns a piece with saddle included."

"Then buy one--and here--a few steps to the right of the entrance you will find a cripple, he is one of my men, do not speak, but attend--go out quietly--get him decently clothed, and bring him back here, the horse will be for him. You can get clothes to fit him anywhere, for the shops do not shut until late; get him a sword too, there are some good and cheap weapons in Perugia."

"It shall be done, excellency."

"Then be off at once."

I went on, and had a look at the horses. Bande Nere was with them, seated on a rough wooden bench cleaning his corselet, which already shone like silver. He rose to the salute as I came up.

"How are the horses, Bande Nere?"

"As well as possible, signore, they are all in high mettle."

With a parting pat to Castor, I sought my chamber, reaching it a little after the supper hour. I kept up an outward composure, but my mind within me was aflame with excitement. I ordered another flask of the Burgundy and forced myself to eat and drink a little. Then I betook myself to the arm-chair, and my thoughts. So impatient was I, that the idea came on me to make the attempt there and then, and it was with difficulty I persuaded myself to abandon such a plan, which could have only ended in disaster. Finally, I was about to retire for want of something better to do, when Jacopo came in, followed by Gian.

The latter was entirely transformed, except for the patch which he still wore over his eye, and I was able to recall him now as the old servant who had come somewhat fiercely up to me in the garden of St.

Michael. He had the art which I found so difficult, of completely disguising himself when he chose. Jacopo had performed his task well, and bidding them keep their tongues closed, I dismissed them with a good night.

CHAPTER XXI.

THE RESCUE OF ANGIOLA.

The next day as the big gun from the citadel boomed out the twelfth hour, and all the bells of the town clanged forth the time, five hors.e.m.e.n rode through the gate of St. Angelo, whose doors were spread wide open. The single sentry on duty paced sleepily up and down, he was longing for his noontide siesta, and the guard of a half-score of Baglioni's lances, lay with their armour off, basking in the mellow sun. A subaltern officer, who had evidently dined to some purpose, reclined on his back, half in half out of the shade of a few olive trees that grew to the left of the gate, and the ruby on his cheeks showed up all the brighter against the green of the gra.s.s on which he was stretched. The hors.e.m.e.n were myself and my four followers. We had taken the route I went the day before with Gian, and the plan I had formed was this. On my gaining admittance to the house, Jacopo and Bande Nere were to put themselves at the door, and engage the guard there in conversation. Gian and the lackey were to hold the horses. As soon as I ascertained the position of Angiola's room, I would blow shrilly on a whistle I had purchased for the purpose. My men at the door, who were armed with arquebuses as well as their swords, would hold the pa.s.sage, and I should try and account for the Cavaliere Paolo and bear off the prize. If we succeeded, we could easily make the gate, and then, the road to St. Jerome lay open before us. The fact that the attempt was to be made in broad daylight too would be a safeguard, as no one would deem that such a deed, usually done under cover of night, was to be adventured at this hour. I had partly paved the way for my entrance by my call of yesterday, and was provided with a sufficiently plausible story to keep the cavaliere engaged, whilst I took stock of his surroundings. Jacopo too had been carefully drilled as to how he was to announce me, and the question resolved itself into hard hitting, and a little luck. I had dressed myself with particular care, wearing my buff-coat under a gay jerkin, and a short velvet cloak hung from my shoulders. This almost gala attire was to act as a further blind, and give all the appearance of a mere visit of ceremony. There was of course the possibility of my being refused admittance, and of the Cavaliere Paolo declining to see me; but this was not probable, and if it did happen, I was ready for a bold stroke, and for this Bande Nere carried with him a grenade with which to blow open the door. As it turned out, however, we had no difficulty on this score. On reaching the house I glanced up, and saw a face peering at us through the caging of one of the windows above; but it was almost immediately withdrawn. Jacopo dismounted and knocked firmly. The same performance, I have described, of opening a grating was gone through, but on my name being mentioned the porter shut his peep-hole, there was the sound of the removal of a bar, the clank of chains, and the door swung open with a sullen groan, disclosing a hall, in which stood two men, completely armed, their arquebuses at the ready in their hands, whilst the doorkeeper himself, a st.u.r.dy knave, stood full in the entrance, swinging a bunch of keys.

"Is the Cavaliere Paolo Baglioni within?" I asked as I dismounted, taking it for granted I was to be received, from the preparation I saw was made.

"He is, signore--be pleased to follow."

With a warning glance to Jacopo I stepped in, finding myself in a hall of middle size, the walls discoloured with age, and chipped and cracked in many places--clearly the Casino Baglioni needed repairs. At the end of the hall was a spiral staircase, whose stone steps, worn to a hollow in the middle, by the pa.s.sing and repa.s.sing of feet, marked its great age. Up this narrow stairway I followed the man, until we reached a corridor, hung on each side with rusty suits of armour, and old and tattered banners. The place was very damp, and there was a musty smell about it, as if no pure air ever came that way. It was evident that the cavaliere was on the alert, for a man was on guard here, armed like those below, with sword and arquebus. To him my guide addressed himself.

"He has come," he said, jerking his thumb backwards at me.

"Well, announce him," said the sentinel.

"That is for you," answered the janitor, "I had enough of Pluto this morning." With this he turned on his heel and ran back downstairs, jingling his keys.

The sentry stood still, however, and after waiting for half a minute, I spoke, my blood rising a little within me.

"Will you be good enough to announce the Cavaliere di Savelli--on an urgent affair?"

The man turned round to a closed door behind him, rapping at it with his mailed hand. From inside I heard a shuffling noise, a heavy body lurched against the door, and there was a scratching at the wood. No answer, however, came to the knock.

"Knock again," I said, a little impatiently, and this time a deep voice called out--

"Enter."

I placed my hand on the door to open it when the sentry spoke with unexpected civility.

"Take care of the beast, signore!"

"The beast--what beast?" I asked, pretending not to know anything of Pluto's existence.

"His excellency's bear--do not fear it--else it might injure you--_cospetto!_ But it is a perfect fiend if you run from it. It killed a poor woman the other day."

"Thanks, friend, I will beware," I answered, and pushed open the door, springing back a yard as I did so, for with a short roar that echoed through the house, a huge bear rose on his hind legs, and struck out at my face with his claws.

"_Diavolo!_ go back," shouted the sentry to the brute, and I whipped out my sword; but the animal merely stood in the open doorway, making no further advance, his great jaws open, and puffing like a blacksmith's bellows.

"_Cospetto!_ excellency, call off the bear," shouted the sentry again, indeed he seemed positively to hate the animal, and from inside came a low deep-toned but mocking laugh. "Come back, Pluto--down, you brute--down!" then there was a heavy "thud," the tinkling of s.h.i.+vered gla.s.s, and the bear dropping on its fore feet, shambled back into the room. I was considerably startled, and not a little angry; but concealing these feelings, stepped boldly into the room, keeping my drawn sword still in my hand.

"The Cavaliere di Baglioni?" I enquired.

"At the Cavaliere di Savelli's service," and a tall figure rose from a lounge chair and surveyed me. I confess that my heart began to beat a little fast when I saw the man against whom I was to pit myself. He was far above the middle height, and proportionately broad. His grizzled hair, parted in the middle, hung down straightly to his neck, and a thick grey beard and moustache hid his mouth and chin. A cruel hooked nose, almost Hebraic in shape, was set between a pair of small and piercing eyes. His complexion was deathly pale, and by the light which fell from the barred window, I saw beneath the skin the little red lines of swollen veins which marked an intemperate life. At a small table beside the chair was a pack of cards, and a gla.s.s half filled with red wine, the bottle from which the wine was taken was lying in fragments at the door, where it had fallen and broken to bits, after being flung at Pluto. The bear was now beside his master, facing me, his huge head held down and swaying from side to side. We remained for a half minute staring at each other, and then Baglioni spoke again, with his deep sneering accent, "Is it usual for the Cavaliere di Savelli to pay visits with a drawn sword in his hand?"

"Is it usual," I replied, "for gentlemen to be received by having a savage beast set at them?"

"Oh, Pluto!" and he touched the bear, "Pluto was not set at you, man--you would not be here if he was."

"Probably--if however you will call the beast to one side, I would like to discuss my business with you, cavaliere."

"Shut the door, and sit down there," he replied, "Pluto will not disturb us--you can put back your sword. It would avail you little,"

he grinned.

It cost me an effort, but I did as I was bidden, and Baglioni sank back into his lounge, the bear still standing, and keeping its fierce eyes on me. Its master however kept running his hand up and down its s.h.a.ggy coat, whilst he asked in his measured voice--

"Well, and to what do I owe the honour of this visit?"

"You would prefer no beating about the bush?"

"It is my way."

"Well, then, cavaliere, I have come from Rome with a special object, and that is to ask you to change sides, and to use your influence with your cousin, Count Carlo, to do likewise."

"I follow the head of my house."

"Exactly. You are aware that His Holiness is now over seventy years of age."

"The lambkin of G.o.d, Alexander--yes."

"Well, he cannot go on for ever, and if he were to die, it is an end to the Borgia."

"Ho! ho!" he laughed, "it is an end to the Borgia--Cavaliere, your employers are mad. It will take not a little to break Cesare--Cesare Borgia, Duke of Romagna, Imola and Faenza, Marquis of Rimini, Count of Forli, Lord of Pesaro and Fano, Gonfaloniere of the Church--good for a low-born b.a.s.t.a.r.d--eh? Ho! ho! break Cesare! Not you."

"Stronger trees have fallen, signore--remember we have France, and the Florentines on our side, and twenty thousand men, under Tremouille and Trevulzio, are not twenty miles from you."