The Chronicles of Count Antonio

The Chronicles of Count Antonio Page 7

by Anthony Hope

  CHAPTER VII.

  COUNT ANTONIO AND THE LADY OF RILANO.

  From the lips of Tommasino himself, who was cousin to Count Antonio,greatly loved by him, and partaker of all his enterprises during thetime of his sojourn as an outlaw in the hills, this, the story of theLady of Rilano, came to my venerable brother in Christ, Niccolo; and thesame Niccolo, being a very old man, told it to me, so that I know thatthe story is true and every part of it, and tread here not on thedoubtful ground of legend, but on the firm rock of the word of honestmen. There is indeed one thing doubtful, Tommasino himself being unableto know the verity of it; yet that one thing is of small moment, for itis no more than whether the lady came first to Duke Valentine, offeringher aid, or whether the Duke, who since the affair of the sacred boneshad been ever active in laying schemes against Antonio, cast his eyes onthe lady, and, perceiving that she was very fair and likely to serve histurn, sent for her, and persuaded her by gifts and by the promise of agreat marriage to take the task in hand.

  Be that as it may, it is certain that in the fourth year of CountAntonio's outlawry, the Lady Venusta came from Rilano, where she dwelt,and talked alone with the Duke in his cabinet; so that men (and womenwith greater urgency) asked what His Highness did to take such a oneinto his counsels; for he had himself forbidden her to live in the cityand constrained her to abide in her house at Rilano, by reason ofreports touching her fair fame. Nor did she then stay in Firmola, but,having had audience of the Duke, returned straightway to Rilano, and forthe space of three weeks rested there; and the Duke told nothing to hislords of what had passed between him and the lady, while the CountAntonio and his friends knew not so much as that the Duke had heldconference with the lady; for great penalties had been decreed againstany man who sent word to Antonio of what passed in Firmola, and thepikemen kept strict guard on all who left or entered the city, so thatit was rather like a town besieged than the chief place of a peacefulrealm.

  Now at this time, considering that his hiding-place was too well knownto the Lord Lorenzo and certain of the Duke's Guard, Count Antoniodescended from the hills by night, and, having crossed the plain,carrying all his equipment with him, mounted again into the heights ofMount Agnino and pitched his camp in and about a certain cave, which isprotected on two sides by high rocks and on the third by the steep banksof a river, and can be approached by one path only. This cave was knownto the Duke, but he could not force it without great loss, so thatAntonio was well nigh as safe as when his hiding-place had been unknown;and yet he was nearer by half to the city, and but seven miles as a birdflies from the village of Rilano where the Lady Venusta dwelt; althoughto one who travelled by the only path that a man could go upright onhis feet the distance was hard on eleven miles. But no other place wasso near, and from Rilano Antonio drew the better part of the provisionsand stores of which he had need, procuring them secretly from thepeople, who were very strictly enjoined by the Duke to furnish him withnothing under pain of forfeiture of all their goods.

  Yet one day, when the man they called Bena and a dozen more rode in theevening through Rilano, returning towards the cave, the maid-servant ofVenusta met them, and, with her, men bearing a great cask of fine wine,and the maid-servant said to Bena, "My mistress bids you drink; for goodmen should not suffer thirst."

  But Bena answered her, asking, "Do you know who we are?"

  "Aye, I know, and my lady knows," said the girl. "But my lady says thatif she must live at Rilano, then she will do what she pleases inRilano."

  Bena and his men looked at one another, for they knew of His Highness'sproclamation, but the day having been hot, they being weary, the wineseeming good, and a woman knowing her own business best, at last theydrank heartily, and, rendering much thanks, rode on and told Tommasinowhat had been done. And Tommasino having told Antonio, the Count wasangry with Bena, saying that his gluttony would bring trouble on theLady Venusta.

  "She should not tempt a man," said Bena sullenly.

  All these things happened on the second day of the week; and on thefourth, towards evening, as Antonio and Tommasino sat in front of thecave, they saw coming towards them one of the band named Luigi, a bigfellow who had done good service and was also a merry jovial man thattook the lead in good-fellowship. And in his arms Luigi bore the LadyVenusta. Her gown was dishevelled and torn, and the velvet shoes onher feet were cut almost to shreds, and she lay back in Luigi'sarms, pale and exhausted. Luigi came and set her down gently beforeAntonio, saying, "My lord, three miles from here, in the steepest androughest part of the way, I found this lady sunk on the ground andhalf-swooning: when I raised her and asked how she came where she was,and in such a plight, she could answer nothing save, 'Count Antonio!Carry me to Count Antonio!' So I have brought her in obedience to herrequest."

  As Luigi ended, Venusta opened her eyes, and, rising to her knees, heldout her hands in supplication, saying, "Protect me, my lord, protect me.For the Duke has sent me word that to-morrow night he will burn my houseand all that it holds, and will take me and lodge me in prison, and souse me there that I may know what befalls those who give aid totraitors. And all this comes upon me, my lord, because I gave a draughtof wine to your men when they were thirsty."

  "I feared this thing," said Antonio, "and deeply I grieve at it. But Iam loth to go in open war against the Duke; moreover in the plain hewould be too strong for me. What then can I do? For here is no place inwhich a lady, the more if she be alone and unattended, can be lodgedwith seemliness."

  "If the choice be between this and a prison----" said Venusta with afaint sorrowful smile.

  "Yet it might be that I could convey you beyond His Highness's power,"pursued Antonio. "But I fear you could not travel far to-night."

  "Indeed I am weary even to death," moaned Venusta.

  "There is nothing for it but that to-night at least she rest here," saidAntonio to Tommasino.

  Tommasino frowned. "When woman comes in," said he behind the screen ofhis hand, "safety flies out."

  "Better fly safety than courtesy and kindness, cousin," said CountAntonio, and Tommasino ceased to dissuade him, although he was uneasyconcerning the coming of Venusta.

  That night, therefore, all made their camp outside, and gave the cave toVenusta for her use, having made a curtain of green boughs across itsmouth. But again the next day Venusta was too sick for travel; nay, sheseemed very sick, and she prayed Luigi to go to Rilano and seek aphysician; and Luigi, Antonio having granted him permission, went, andreturned saying that no physician dared come in face of His Highness'sproclamation; but the truth was that Luigi was in the pay of Venusta andof the Duke, and had sought by his journey not a physician, but means ofinforming the Duke how Venusta had sped, and of seeking counsel from himas to what should next be done. And that day and for four days moreVenusta abode in the cave, protesting that she could not travel; andAntonio used her with great courtesy, above all when he heard that theDuke, having stayed to muster all his force for fear of Antonio, had atlength appointed the next day for the burning of her house at Rilano andthe carrying off of all her goods. These tidings he gave her, and thoughhe spoke gently, she fell at once into great distress, declaring thatshe had not believed the Duke would carry out his purpose, and weepingfor her jewels and prized possessions which were in the house.

  Now Count Antonio, though no true man could call him fool, had yet asimplicity nobler it may be than the suspicious wisdom of those who,reading other hearts by their own, count all men rogues and all womenwanton: and when he saw the lady weeping for the trinkets and her lovedtoys and trifles, he said, "Nay, though I cannot meet the Duke face toface, yet I will ride now and come there before him, and bring what youvalue most from the house."

  "You will be taken," said she, and she gazed at him with timid admiringeyes. "I had rather a thousand times lose the jewels than that youshould run into danger, my lord. For I owe to you liberty, and perhapslife."

  "I will leave Tommasino to guard you and ride at once," and Antonio roseto his feet, smili
ng at her for her foolish fears.

  Then a thing that seemed strange happened. For Antonio gave a sudden cryof pain. And behold, he had set his foot on the point of a dagger thatwas on the ground near to the Lady Venusta; and the dagger ran deep intohis foot, for it was resting on a stone and the point sloped upwards, sothat he trod full and with all his weight on the point; and he sank backon the ground with the dagger in his foot. How came the dagger there?How came it to rest against the stone? None could tell then, though itseems plain to him that considers now. None then thought that the ladywho fled to Antonio as though he were her lover, and lavished tears andsighs on him, had placed it there. Nor that honest Luigi, who made suchmoan of his carelessness in dropping his poniard, had taken more painsover the losing of his weapon than most men over the preservation oftheirs. Luigi cursed himself, and the lady cried out on fate; and CountAntonio consoled both of them, saying that the wound would soon be well,and that it was too light a matter for a lady to dim her bright eyes forthe sake of it.

  Yet light as the matter was, it was enough for Venusta's purpose and forthe scheme of Duke Valentine. For Count Antonio could neither mount hishorse nor go afoot to Venusta's house in Rilano; and, if the jewels wereto be saved and the lady's tears dried (mightily, she declared withpretty self-reproach, was she ashamed to think of the jewels besideAntonio's hurt, but yet they were dear to her), then Tommasino must goin his place to Rilano.

  "And take all save Bena and two more," said Antonio. "For the Duke willnot come here if he goes to Rilano."

  "I," said Bena, "am neither nurse nor physician nor woman. Let Martolostay; he says there is already too much blood on his conscience; and letme go, for there is not so much as I could bear on mine, and maybe weshall have a chance of an encounter with the foreguard of the Duke."

  But Venusta said to Antonio, "Let both of these men go, and let Luigistay. For he is a clever fellow, and will aid me in tending your wound."

  "So be it," said Antonio. "Let Luigi and the two youngest stay; and dothe rest of you go, and return as speedily as you may. And the LadyVenusta shall, of her great goodness, dress my wound, which pains memore than such a trifle should."

  Thus the whole band, saving Luigi and two youths, rode off early in themorning with Tommasino, their intent being to reach Rilano and get clearof it again before the Duke came thither from the city: and Venustasent no message to the Duke, seeing that all had fallen out mostprosperously and as had been arranged between them. For the Duke was notin truth minded to go at all to Rilano; but at earliest dawn, beforeTommasino had set forth, the Lord Lorenzo left the city with a hundredpikemen; more he would not take, fearing to be delayed if his troop weretoo large; and he made a great circuit, avoiding Rilano and the countryadjacent to it. So that by mid-day Tommasino was come withthirty-and-four men (the whole strength of the band except the threewith Antonio) to Rilano, and, meeting with no resistance, enteredVenusta's house, and took all that was precious in it, and loaded theirhorses with the rich tapestries and the choicest of the furnishings; andthen, having regaled themselves with good cheer, started in theafternoon to ride back to the cave, Tommasino and Bena grumbling to oneanother because they had chanced on no fighting, but not daring to tarryby reason of Antonio's orders.

  But their lamentations were without need; for when they came to the passof Mount Agnino, there at the entrance of the road which led up to thecave, by the side of the river, was encamped a force of eighty pikemenunder the Lieutenant of the Guard. Thus skilfully had the Lord Lorenzoperformed his duty, and cut off Tommasino and his company from allaccess to the cave; and now he himself was gone with twenty men up themountain path, to take Antonio according to the scheme of the Duke andthe Lady Venusta. But Bena and Tommasino were sore aghast, and said toone another, "There is treachery. What are we to do?" For the eighty ofthe Duke's men were posted strongly, and it was a great hazard to attackthem. Yet this risk they would have run, for they were ready rather todie than to sit there idle while Antonio was taken; and in alllikelihood they would have died, had the Lieutenant obeyed the orderswhich Lorenzo had given him and rested where he was, covered by the hilland the river. But the Lieutenant was a young man, of hot temper andimpetuous, and to his mistaken pride it seemed as though it werecowardice for eighty men to shrink from attacking thirty-and-five, andfor the Duke's Guards to play for advantage in a contest with a band ofrobbers. Moreover Tommasino's men taunted his men, crying to them tocome down and fight like men in the open. Therefore, counting on a surevictory and the pardon it would gain, about three o'clock in theafternoon he cried, "Let us have at these rascals!" and to Tommasino'sgreat joy, his troop remounted their horses and made ready to chargefrom their position. Then Tommasino said, "We are all ready to face theenemy for my lord and cousin's sake. But I have need now of those whowill run away for his sake."

  Then he laid his plans that when the Lieutenant's troop charged, his menshould not stand their ground. And five men he placed on one extremityof his line, Bena at their head; and four others with himself he postedat the other extremity; also he spread out his line very wide, so thatit stretched on either side beyond the line of the Lieutenant. And hebade the twenty-and-five in the centre not abide the onset, but turn andflee at a gallop, trusting to the speed of their horses for escape. Andhe made them fling away all that they had brought from the LadyVenusta's house, that they might ride the lighter.

  "And I pray God," said he, "that you will escape alive; but if you donot, it is only what your oath to my lord constrains you to. But you andI, Bena, with our men, will ride, not back towards the plain, but ontowards the hills, and it may be that we shall thus get ahead of theLieutenant; and once we are ahead of him in the hilly ground, he willnot catch us before we come to the cave."

  "Unless," began Bena, "there be another party----"

  "Hist!" said Tommasino, and he whispered to Bena, "They will fear ifthey hear all."

  Then the Duke's men came forth, and it fell out as Tommasino hadplanned; for the body of the Duke's men, when they saw Tommasino's rankbroken and his band flying, set up a great shout of scorn and triumph,and dug spurs into their horses and pursued the runaways. And therunaways rode at their top speed, and, having come nearly to Rilanowithout being caught, they were three of them overtaken and captured bythe well at the entrance to the village; but the rest, wheeling to theright, dashed across the plain, making for Antonio's old hiding-place;and, having lost two more of their number whose horses failed, andhaving slain four of the Guard who pursued incautiously ahead of therest, they reached the spurs of the hills, and there scattered, everyman by himself, and found refuge, some in the woods, some in shepherds'huts; so they came off with their lives. But the men with Tommasino andBena had ridden straight for the hill-road, and had passed theLieutenant before he apprehended Tommasino's scheme. Then he cried aloudto his men, and eight of them, hearing him, checked their horses, butcould not understand what he desired of them till he cried aloud again,and pointed with his hand towards where the ten, Tommasino leading andBena in the rear, had gained the hill-road and were riding up it asswiftly as their horses could mount. Then the Lieutenant, cursing hisown folly, gathered them, and they rode after Tommasino and Bena.

  "Be of good heart," said the Lieutenant. "They are between us and thecompany of my Lord Lorenzo."

  Yet though he said this, his mind was not at ease; for the horses of hismen, being unaccustomed to the hills, could not mount the road as didthe sure-footed mountain-horses ridden by Tommasino's company, and thespace widened between them; and at last Tommasino's company disappearedfrom sight, at the point where the track turned sharp to the left, rounda great jutting rock that stood across the way and left room for butthree men to ride abreast between river and rock. Then the Lieutenantdrew rein and took counsel with his men, for he feared that Tommasinowould wait for him behind the jutting rock and dash out on his flank ashe rode round. Therefore for a while he considered, and a while longerhe allowed for the breathing of the horses; and then with great caut
ionrode on towards the jutting rock, which lay about the half of a milefrom him. And when he came near it, he and his men heard a voice cry,"Quiet, quiet! They are close now!"

  "They will dash at us as we go round," said the Lieutenant.

  "And we can go no more than three together," said one of the guards.

  "Are you all ready?" said the voice behind the cliff, in accents thatbut just reached round the rock. "Not a sound, for your lives!" Yet asound there was, as of a jingling bit, and then again an angry, "Curseyou, you clumsy fool, be still." And then all was still.

  "They are ready for us now," whispered a guard, with an uneasy smile.

  "I will go," said the Lieutenant. "Which two of you will lead the waywith me?"

  But the men grumbled, saying, "It is the way to death that you ask us tolead, sir."

  Then the Lieutenant drew his men back, and as they retreated they made anoise great hoping to make Tommasino think they were gone. And, havingthus withdrawn some five hundred paces, they rested in utter quiet forhalf an hour. And it was then late afternoon. And the Lieutenant said,"I will go first alone, and in all likelihood I shall be slain; but doyou follow immediately after me and avenge my death." And this they,being ashamed for their first refusal, promised to do. Then theLieutenant rode softly forward till he came within twenty yards of therock, and he clapped spurs to his horse and shouted, and, followed closeby his men crying, "For God and our Duke!" charged round the juttingrock.

  And behold, on the other side of it was not a man! And of Tommasino andhis company naught was to be seen--for they had used the last hour toput a great distance between them and their pursuers--save that away,far up the road, in the waning light of the sun, was to be dimlyperceived the figure of a man on horseback, who waved his hat to themand, turning, was in an instant lost to view. And this man was Bena,who, by himself and without a blow, had held the passage of the juttingrock for hard on an hour, and thus given time to Tommasino to ride onand come upon the rear of Lorenzo's company before the Lieutenant andhis men could hem them in on the other side.

  Thus had the day worn to evening, and long had the day seemed toAntonio, who sat before the mouth of the cave, with Venusta by his side.All day they had sat thus alone, for Luigi and the two youths had goneto set snares in the wood behind the cave--or such was the pretext Luigimade; and Antonio had let them go, charging them to keep in earshot. Asthe long day passed, Antonio, seeking to entertain the lady and findamusement for her through the hours, began to recount to her all that hehad done, how he had seized the Sacred Bones, the manner of hisdifference with the Abbot of St. Prisian, and much else. But of thekilling of Duke Paul he would not speak; nor did he speak of his lovefor Lucia till Venusta pressed him, making parade of great sympathy forhim. But when he had set his tongue to the task, he grew eloquent, hiseyes gleamed and his cheek flushed, and he spoke in the low reverentvoice that a true lover uses when he speaks of his mistress, as thoughhis wonted accents were too common and mean for her name. And Venustasat listening, casting now and again a look at him out of her deepeyes, and finding his eyes never on hers but filled with the fanciedvision of Lucia. And at last, growing impatient with him, she broke outpetulantly, "Is this girl, then, different from all others, that youspeak of her as though she were a goddess?"

  "I would not have spoken of her but that you pressed me," laughedAntonio. "Yet in my eyes she is a goddess, as every maid should be toher lover."

  Venusta caught a twig from the ground and broke it sharp across. "Boys'talk!" said she, and flung the broken twig away.

  Antonio laughed gently, and leant back, resting on the rock. "May be,"said he. "Yet is there none who talks boys' talk for you?"

  "I love men," said she, "not boys. And if I were a man I think I wouldlove a woman, not a goddess."

  "It is Heaven's chance, I doubt not," said Antonio, laughing again. "Hadyou and I chanced to love, we should not have quarrelled with the boys'talk nor at the name of goddess."

  She flushed suddenly and bit her lip, but she answered in raillery,"Indeed had it been so, a marvel of a lover I should have had! For youhave not seen your mistress for many, many months, and yet you arefaithful to her. Are you not, my lord?"

  "Small credit not to wander where you love to rest," said Antonio.

  "And yet youth goes in waiting, and delights missed come not again,"said she, leaning towards him with a light in her eyes, and scanning hisfair hair and bronzed cheek, his broad shoulders and the sinewy handsthat nursed his knee.

  "It may well be that they will not come to me," he said. "For the Dukehas a halter ready for my throat, if by force or guile he can take me."

  She started at these words, searching his face; but he was calm andinnocent of any hidden meaning. She forced a laugh as she said, twistinga curl of her hair round her finger, "The more reason to waste no time,my Lord Antonio."

  Antonio shook his head and said lightly, "But I think he cannot take meby force, and I know of no man in all the Duchy that would betray me toa shameful death."

  "And of no woman?" she asked, glancing at him from under droopinglashes.

  "No, for I have wronged none; and women are not cruel."

  "Yet there may be some, my lord, who call you cruel and therefore wouldbe cruel in vengeance. A lover faithful as you can have but one friendamong women."

  "I know of none such," he laughed. "And surely the vengeance would betoo great for the offence, if there were such."

  "Nay, I know not that," said Venusta, frowning.

  "I would trust myself to any woman, even though the Duke offered hergreat rewards, aye, as readily as I put faith in Lucia herself, or inyou."

  "You couple me with her?"

  "In that matter most readily," said Antonio.

  "But in nothing else?" she asked, flushing again in anger, for still hiseyes were distant, and he turned them never on her.

  "You must pardon me," he said. "My eyes are blinded."

  For a moment she sat silent; then she said in a low voice, "But blindeyes have learned to see before now, my lord."

  Then Antonio set his eyes on her; and now she could not meet them, butturned her burning face away. For her soul was in tumult, and she knewnot now whether she loved or hated him, nor whether she would save orstill betray him. And the trust he had in her gnawed her guilty heart.So that a sudden passion seized her, and she caught Antonio by the arm,crying, "But if a woman held your life in her hand and asked your loveas its price, Antonio?"

  "Such a thing could not be," said he, wondering.

  "Nay, but it might. And if it were?"

  And Antonio, marvelling more and more at her vehemence, answered, "Loveis dear, and honour is dear; but we of Monte Velluto hold life of nogreat price."

  "Yet it is a fearful and shameful thing to hang from the city wall."

  "There are worse things," said he. "But indeed I count not to do it;"and he laughed again.

  Venusta sprang to her feet and paced the space between the cave and theriver bank with restless steps. Once she flung her hands above her headand clasped them; then, holding them clasped in front of her, she stoodby Antonio and bent over him, till her hair, falling forward as shestooped, brushed his forehead and mingled with his fair locks; and shebreathed softly his name, "Antonio, Antonio!" At this he looked up witha great start, stretching up his hand as though to check her; but hesaid nothing. And she, suddenly sobbing, fell on her knees by him; yet,as suddenly, she ceased to sob, and a smile came on her lips, and sheleant towards him, saying again, "Antonio."

  "I pray you, I pray you," said he, seeking to stay her courteously.

  Then, careless of her secret, she flashed out in wrath, "Ah, you scornme, my lord! You care nothing for me. I am dirt to you. Yet I hold yourlife in my hand!" And then in an instant she grew again softened,beseeching, "Am I so hideous, dear lord, that death is better than mylove? For if you will love me, I will save you."

  "I know not how my life is in your hands," said he, glad to catch atthat and leave the rest o
f what Venusta said.

  "Is there any path that leads higher up into the mountains?" she asked.

  "Yes, there is one," said he; "but if need came now, I could not climbit with this wounded foot of mine."

  "Luigi and the young men could carry you?"

  "Yes; but what need? Tommasino and the band will return soon."

  But she caught him by the hand, crying, "Rise, rise; call the men andlet them carry you. Come, there is no time for lingering. And if I saveyou, my Lord Antonio----?" And a yearning question sounded in her voice.

  "If you save me a thousand times, I can do nothing else than pray youspare me what is more painful than death to me," said he, looking awayfrom her and being himself in great confusion.

  "Come, come," she cried. "Call them! Perhaps some day----! Call them,Antonio."

  But as she spoke, before Antonio could call, there came a loud cry fromthe wood behind the cave, the cry of a man in some great strait.Antonio's hand flew to his sword, and he rose to his feet, and stoodleaning on his sword. Then he cried aloud to Luigi. And in a momentLuigi and one of the youths came running; and Luigi, casting one glanceat Venusta, said breathlessly, "My lord, Jacopo's foot slipped, and thepoor fellow has fallen down a precipice thirty feet deep on to the rocksbelow, and we fear that he is sore hurt."

  Venusta sprang a step forward, for she suspected (what the truth was)that Luigi himself had aided the slipping of Jacopo's foot by a suddenlurch against him; but she said nothing, and Antonio bade Luigi go quickand look after Jacopo, and take the other youth with him.

  "But we shall leave you unguarded, my lord," said Luigi with a cunningshow of solicitude.

  "I am in no present danger, and the youth may be dying. Go speedily,"said Antonio.

  Luigi turned, and with the other youth (Tommasino told Niccolo his name,but Niccolo had forgotten it) rushed off; and even as he went, Venustacried, "It is a lie! You yourself brought it about!" But Luigi did nothear her, and Antonio, left again alone, asked her, "What mean you?"

  "Nay, I mean naught," said she, affrighted, and, when faced by hisinquiring eyes, not daring to confess her treachery.

  "I hope the lad is not killed," said Antonio.

  "I care not for a thousand lads. Think of yourself, my lord!" Andplanning to rouse Antonio without betraying herself, she said, "Idistrust this man Luigi. Is he faithful? The Duke can offer greatrewards."

  "He has served me well. I have no reason to mistrust him," said Antonio.

  "Ah, you trust every one!" she cried in passion and in scorn of hissimplicity. "You trust Luigi! You trust me!"

  "Why not?" said he. "But indeed now I have no choice. For they cannotcarry both Jacopo and me up the path."

  "Jacopo! You would stay for Jacopo?" she flashed out fiercely.

  "If nothing else, yet my oath would bind me not to leave him while helives. For we of the band are all bound to one another as brethren by anoath, and it would look ill if I, for whom they all have given much,were the first to break the oath. So here I am, and here I must stay,"and Antonio ended smiling, and, his foot hurting him while he stood, satdown again and rested against the rock.

  It was now late, and evening fell; and Venusta knew that the Duke's menshould soon be upon them. And she sat down near Antonio and buried herface in her hands, and she wept. For Antonio had so won on her by hishonour and his gentleness, and most of all by his loyal clinging to thepoor boy Jacopo, that she could not think of her treachery withoutloathing and horror. Yet she dared not tell him; that now seemed worseto her than death. And while they sat thus, Luigi came and told Antoniothat the youth was sore hurt and that they could not lift him.

  "Then stay by him," said Antonio. "I need nothing."

  And Luigi bowed, and, turning, went back to the other youth, and badehim stay by Jacopo, while he went by Antonio's orders to seek for someone to aid in carrying him. "I may chance," said he, "to find someshepherds." So he went, not to seek shepherds, but to seek the Duke'smen, and tell them that they might safely come upon Antonio, for he hadnow none to guard him.

  Then Antonio said to Venusta, "Why do you sit and weep?"

  For he thought that she wept because he had scorned the love in whichher words declared her to hold him, and he was sorry. But she made noanswer.

  And he went on, "I pray you, do not weep. For think not that I am blindto your beauty or to the sweet kindness which you have bestowed upon me.And in all things that I may, I will truly and faithfully serve you tomy death."

  Then she raised her head and she said, "That will not be long, Antonio."

  "I know not, but for so long as it may be," said he.

  "It will not be long," she said again, and burst into quick passionatesobs, that shook her and left her at last breathless and exhausted.

  Antonio looked at her for a while and said, "There is something that youdo not tell me. Yet if it be anything that causes you pain or shame, youmay tell me as readily as you would any man. For I am not a hard man,and I have many things on my own conscience that forbid me to judgeharshly of another."

  She raised her head and she lifted her hand into the air. The stillnessof evening had fallen, and a light wind blew up from the plain. Thereseemed no sound save from the flowing of the river and the gentlerustle of the trees.

  "Hark!" said she. "Hark! hark!" and with every repetition of the wordher voice rose till it ended in a cry of terror.

  Antonio set his hand to his ear and listened intently. "It is the soundof men's feet on the rocky path," said he, smiling. "Tommasino returns,and I doubt not that he brings your jewels with him. Will you not givehim a smiling welcome? Aye, and to me also your smiles would be welcome.For your weeping melts my heart, and the dimness of your eyes is like acloud across the sun."

  Venusta's sobs had ceased, and she looked at Antonio with a face calm,white, and set. "It is not the Lord Tommasino," she said. "The men youhear are the Duke's men;" and then and there she told him the whole. Yetshe spoke as though neither he nor any other were there, but as thoughshe rehearsed for her own ear some lesson that she had learnt; solifeless and monotonous was her voice as it related the shameful thing.And at last she ended saying, "Thus in an hour you will be dead, orcaptured and held for a worse death. It is I who have done it." And shebent her head again to meet her hands; yet she did not cover her face,but rested her chin on her hands, and her eyes were fixed immovably onCount Antonio.

  For the space of a minute or two he sat silent. Then he said, "I fear,then, that Tommasino and the rest have had a fight against great odds.But they are stout fellows, Tommasino, and old Bena, and the rest. Ihope it is well with them." Then, after a pause, he went on, "Yes, thesound of the steps comes nearer. They will be here before long now. ButI had not thought it of Luigi. The rogue! I trust they will not find thetwo lads."

  Venusta sat silent, waiting for him to reproach her. He read her thoughton her face, and he smiled at her, and said to her, "Go and meet them;or go, if you will, away up the path. For you should not be here whenthe end comes."

  Then she flung herself at his feet, asking forgiveness, but finding noword for her prayer. "Aye, aye," said he gently. "But of God you mustask it in prayers and good deeds." And he dragged himself to the caveand set himself with his back against the rock and his face towards thepath along which the Duke's men must come. And he called again toVenusta, saying, "I pray you, do not stay here." But she heeded him not,but sat again on the ground, her chin resting on her hands and her eyeson his.

  "Hark, they are near now!" said he. And he looked round at sky andtrees, and at the rippling swift river, and at the long dark shadows ofthe hills; and he listened to the faint sounds of the birds and livingcreatures in the wood. And a great lust of life came over him, and for amoment his lip quivered and his head fell; he was very loth to die. Yetsoon he smiled again and raised his head, and so leant easily againstthe rock.

  Now the Lord Lorenzo and his twenty men, conceiving that the Lieutenantof the Guard could without difficulty hold Tommasino, had co
me alongleisurely, desiring to be in good order and not weary when they metAntonio; for they feared him. And thus it was evening when they camenear the cave and halted a moment to make their plans; and here Luigimet them and told them how Antonio was alone and unguarded. But Lorenzodesired, if it were possible, to take Antonio alive and carry him aliveto the Duke, knowing that thus he would win His Highness's greatestthanks. And while they talked of how this might best be effected, theyin their turn heard the sound of men coming up the road, this soundbeing made by Tommasino, Bena, and their party, who had ridden as fastas the weariness of their horses let them. But because they had riddenfast, their horses were foundered, and they had dismounted, and were nowcoming on foot; and Lorenzo heard them coming just as he also haddecided to go forward on foot, and had caused the horses to be led intothe wood and tethered there. And he asked, "Who are these?"

  Then one of his men, a skilled woodsman and hunter, listening, answered,"They are short of a dozen, my lord. They must be come with tidings fromthe Lieutenant of the Guard. For they would be more if the Lieutenantcame himself, or if by chance Tommasino's band had eluded him."

  "Come," said Lorenzo. "The capture of the Count must be ours, nottheirs. Let us go forward without delay."

  Thus Lorenzo and his men pushed on; and but the half of a mile behindcame Tommasino and his; and again, three or four miles behind them, camethe Lieutenant and his; and all these companies were pressing on towardsthe cave where Antonio and Venusta were. But Tommasino's men stillmarched the quicker, and they gained on Lorenzo, while the Lieutenantdid not gain on them; yet by reason of the unceasing windings of theway, as it twisted round rocks and skirted precipices, they did not comein sight of Lorenzo, nor did he see them; indeed he thought now ofnothing but of coming first on Antonio, and of securing the glory oftaking him before the Lieutenant came up. And Tommasino, drawing nearthe cave, gave his men orders to walk very silently; for he hoped tosurprise Lorenzo unawares. Thus, as the sun sank out of sight, Lorenzocame to the cave and to the open space between it and the river, andbeheld Antonio standing with his back against the rock and his drawnsword in his hand, and Venusta crouched on the ground some paces away.When Venusta saw Lorenzo, she gave a sharp stifled cry, but did notmove: Antonio smiled, and drew himself to his full height.

  "Your tricks have served you well, my lord," he said. "Here I am aloneand crippled."

  "Then yield yourself," said Lorenzo. "We are twenty to one."

  "I will not yield," said Antonio. "I can die here as well as at Firmola,and a thrust is better than a noose."

  Then Lorenzo, being a gentleman of high spirit and courage, waved hismen back; and they stood still ten paces off, watching intently asLorenzo advanced towards Antonio, for, though Antonio was lamed, yetthey looked to see fine fighting. And Lorenzo advanced towards Antonio,and said again, "Yield yourself, my lord."

  "I will not yield," said Antonio again.

  At this instant the woodsman who was with Lorenzo raised his hand to hisear and listened for a moment; but Tommasino came softly, and thewoodsman was deceived. "It is but leaves," he said, and turned again towatch Lorenzo. And that lord now sprang fiercely on Antonio and theswords crossed. And as they crossed, Venusta crawled on her kneesnearer, and as the swords played, nearer still she came, none noticingher, till at length she was within three yards of Lorenzo. He now waspressing Antonio hard, for the Count was in great pain from his foot,and as often as he was compelled to rest his weight on it, it came nearto failing him, nor could he follow up any advantage he might gainagainst Lorenzo. Thus passed three or four minutes in the encounter. Andthe woodsman cried, "Hark! Here comes the Lieutenant. Quick, my lord, oryou lose half the glory!" Then Lorenzo sprang afresh on Antonio. Yet ashe sprang, another sprang also; and as that other sprang there rose ashout from Lorenzo's men; yet they did not rush to aid in the capture ofAntonio, but turned themselves round. For Bena, with Tommasino at hisheels, had shot among them like a stone hurled from a catapult; and thisman Bena was a great fighter; and now he was all aflame with love andfear for Count Antonio. And he crashed through their ranks, and splitthe head of the woodsman with the heavy sword he carried; and thus hecame to Lorenzo. But there in amazement he stood still. For Antonio andLorenzo had dropped their points and fought no more; but both stood withtheir eyes on the slim figure of a girl that lay on the ground betweenthem; and blood was pouring from a wound in her breast, and she moanedsoftly. And while the rest fought fiercely, these three stood looking onthe girl; and Lorenzo looked also on his sword, which was dyed threeinches up the blade. For as he thrust most fiercely at Antonio, Venustahad sprung at him with the spring of a young tiger, a dagger flashing inher hand, and in the instinct that sudden danger brings he had turnedhis blade against her; and the point of it was deep in her breast beforehe drew it back with horror and a cry of "Heavens! I have killed her!"And she fell full on the ground at the feet of Count Antonio, who hadstood motionless in astonishment, with his sword in rest.

  Now the stillness and secrecy of Tommasino's approach had served himwell, for he had come upon Lorenzo's men when they had no thought of anenemy, but stood crowded together, shoulder to shoulder; and several ofthem were slain and more hurt before they could use their swords to anypurpose; but Tommasino's men had fallen on them with great fury, and hadbroken through them even as Bena had, and, getting above them, were now,step by step, driving them down the path, and formed a rampart betweenthem and the three who stood by the dying lady. And when Bena perceivedthis advantage, wasting little thought on Venusta (he was a hard man,this Bena), he cried to Antonio, "Leave him to me, my lord. We have himsure!" and in an instant he would have sprung at Lorenzo, who, findinghimself between two enemies, knew that his state was perilous, but wasyet minded to defend himself. But Antonio suddenly cried in a loudvoice, "Stay!" and arrested by his voice, all stood still, Lorenzowhere he was, Tommasino and his men at the top of the path, and theGuards just below them. And Antonio, leaning on his sword, stepped apace forward and said to Lorenzo, "My lord, the dice have fallen againstyou. But I would not fight over this lady's body. The truth of all shedid I know, yet she has at the last died that I might live. See, my menare between you and your men."

  "It is the hazard of war," said Lorenzo.

  "Aye," said Bena. "He had killed you, my Lord Antonio, had we not come."

  But Antonio pointed to the body of Venusta. And she, at the instant,moaned again, and turned on her back, and gasped, and died: yet justbefore she died, her eyes sought Antonio's eyes, and he dropped suddenlyon his knees beside her, and took her hand and kissed her brow. And theysaw that she smiled in dying.

  Then Lorenzo brushed a hand across his eyes and said to Antonio, "Sufferme to go back with my men, and for a week there shall be a truce betweenus."

  "Let it be so," said Antonio.

  And Bena smiled, for he knew that the Lieutenant of the Guard must nowbe near at hand. But this he did not tell Antonio, fearing that Antoniowould tell Lorenzo. Then Lorenzo, with uncovered head, passed throughthe rank of Tommasino's men; and he took up his dead, and with them wentdown the path, leaving Venusta where she lay. And when he had gone twomiles, he met the Lieutenant and his party, pressing on. Yet when thetwo companies had joined, they were no more than seventeen whole andsound men, so many of Lorenzo's had Tommasino's party slain or hurt.Therefore Lorenzo in his heart was not much grieved at the truce, for ithad been hard with seventeen to force the path to the cave against ten,all unhurt and sound. And, having sorely chidden the Lieutenant of theGuard, he rode back, and rested that night in Venusta's house at Rilano,and the next day rode on to Firmola, and told Duke Valentine how theexpedition had sped.

  Then said Duke Valentine, "Force I have tried, and guile I have tried,and yet this man is delivered from my hand. Fortune fights for him;"and in chagrin and displeasure he went into his cabinet, and spoke to noman, and showed himself nowhere in the city, for the space of threedays. But the townsmen, though they dared make no display, rejoiced thatAntonio was safe, an
d the more because the Duke had laid so cunning andtreacherous a snare for him.

  Now Antonio, Tommasino, and the rest, when they were left alone, stoodround the corpse of Venusta, and Antonio told them briefly all the storyof her treachery as she herself had told it to him.

  And when he had finished the tale, Bena cried, "She has deserved herdeath."

  But Tommasino stooped down and composed her limbs and her raiment gentlywith his hand, and when he rose up his eyes were dim, and he said, "Yes;"but at the last she gave her life for Antonio. And though she deserveddeath, it grieves me that she is gone to her account thus, withoutconfession, pardon, or the rites of Holy Church.

  Then Antonio said, "Behold, her death is her confession, and the sameshould be her pardon. And for the rites----"

  He bent over her, and he dipped the tip of his finger in the lady'sblood that had flowed from her wounded breast; and lightly with hisfinger-tip he signed the Cross in her own blood on her brow. "That,"said he, "shall be her Unction; and I think, Tommasino, it will serve."

  Thus the Lady Venusta died, and they carried her body down to Rilano andburied it there. And in after-days a tomb was raised over her, which maystill be seen. But Count Antonio, being rejoined by such of his companyas had escaped by flight from the pursuit of the Duke's troop, abodestill in the hills, and albeit that his force was less, yet by the dreadof his name and of the deeds that he had done he still defied the powerof the Duke, and was not brought to submission.

  And whether the poor youth whom Luigi pushed over the precipice lived ordied, Niccolo knew not. But Luigi, having entered the service of theDuke, played false to him also, and, being convicted on sure evidence oftaking to himself certain moneys that the Duke had charged him todistribute to the poor, was hanged in the great square a year to thevery day after Venusta died; whereat let him grieve who will; I grievenot.

  CHAPTER VIII.

  THE MANNER OF COUNT ANTONIO'S RETURN.

  In all that I have written concerning Count Antonio, I have striven tosay that only which is surely based on truth and attested by crediblewitness, and have left on one side the more marvellous tales such as thecredulity of ignorance and the fond licence of legend are wont to weave.But as to the manner of his return there is no room for uncertainty, forthe whole account of it was recorded in the archives of the city byorder of Duke Valentine the Good, son and successor to that Duke whooutlawed Antonio; to which archives I, Ambrose, have had full access;and I have now free permission to make known so much of them as mayserve for the proper understanding of the matter. And this same task isone to which I set my pen willingly, conceiving that the story isworthy of being known to every man in the Duchy; for while many maycensure the things that Antonio did in the days of his sojourn in thehills, there can, I think, be none that will not look with approval onhis bearing in this last hap of fortune. Indeed he was a gallantgentleman; and if, for that, I forgive him his sins too readily, in likemanner may our good St. Prisian intercede that my sins be forgiven me.

  Five years had the Count dwelt in the hills; five years had the LadyLucia mourned in the city; five years had Duke Valentine laid plans andschemes. Then it fell out that a sickness came upon the city and thecountry round it; many died, and more were sore stricken but by themercy of God narrowly escaped. Among those that suffered were the Dukehimself, and at the same time a certain gentleman, by name Count Philipof Garda, a friend of Antonio's, and yet an obedient servant to theDuke. Now when Antonio heard that Philip lay sick, he sent to him a richgift of choice meats and fruits by the hand of Tommasino. And Tommasinocame with six of the band and delivered the gift, and might have riddenback in all safety, as did the six who came with him. But Philip had afair daughter, and Tommasino, caught by her charms, made bold to lingerat Philip's house, trusting that his presence there would not be knownto the Duke, and venturing his own neck for the smiles of red lips andthe glances of bright eyes, as young men have since this old worldbegan. But one of the Duke's spies, of whom he maintained many, broughtword to him of Tommasino's rashness; and as Tommasino at last rode forthprivily in the evening, singing a love-song and hugging in his bosom aglove that the lady had suffered him to carry off, he came suddenly intoan ambush of the Duke's Guard, was pulled violently from his horse, andbefore he could so much as draw his sword, behold, his arms were seized,and the Lord Lorenzo stood before him, with doffed cap and mockingsmile!

  "My glove is like to cost me dear," said Tommasino.

  "Indeed, my lord," answered Lorenzo, "I fear there will be a reckoningfor it." Then he gave the word, and they set Tommasino bound on hishorse, and rode without drawing rein to the city. And when the Dukeheard the next morning of Tommasino's capture, he raised himself on hiscouch, where he lay in the shade by the fish-pond under the wall of hisgarden. "This is sweet medicine for my sickness," said he. "On the thirdday from now, at noon, he shall die. Bid them raise a great gibbet infront of my palace, so high that it shall be seen from every part of thecity and from beyond the walls; and on that gibbet Tommasino shall hang,that all men may know that I, Valentine, am Duke and Lord of Firmola."And he lay back again, pale and faint.

  But when word came to Antonio that Tommasino was taken, he withdrewhimself from the rest of the band who were lamenting the untowardchance, and walked by himself to and fro for a long while. And he gazedonce on the picture of the Lady Lucia which was always round his neck.Then he sat down and wrote a letter to the Duke, saying, "My graciouslord, I am here with fifty men, stout and brave fellows; and if mycousin dies, there shall be no peace in the Duchy. But my heart is heavyalready for those that have died in my quarrel, and I may not endureTommasino's death. Therefore let Tommasino go, and grant full pardon andoblivion to him and to all who are here with me, and swear to do thiswith a binding oath; and then I will come and deliver myself to you, andsuffer such doom as seems good to Your Highness. May Almighty Godassuage Your Highness's sickness and keep you in all things.--ANTONIO ofMonte Velluto." And this letter he sent to the Duke Valentine, who,having received it, pondered long, but at last said to Lorenzo, "I donot love to let Tommasino go, nor to pardon these lawless knaves; yetfor five years I have pursued Antonio and have not taken him. And I amweary, and the country is racked and troubled by our strife."

  "With Antonio dead, all would be quiet, my lord," said Lorenzo.

  Then the Duke's eyes flashed and he said, "It shall be so. And bid themstrengthen the gibbet, for Antonio is a large man; and he shall surelyhang on it."

  Now Lorenzo was somewhat grieved, for he esteemed Antonio; yet he obeyedthe Duke's commands, and took from the Duke a letter for Antonio,wherein His Highness swore to all that Antonio asked, and bade him comealone or with one companion only into the city on the day that had beenbefore appointed for the hanging of Tommasino. And, further, the LordLorenzo gathered together all the pikemen and every man that served theDuke, and placed them all on guard, and proclaimed that any man besidesfound carrying arms in the city should be held as the Duke's enemy. Forhe feared that the townsmen who loved Antonio would attempt something onhis behalf. But when the townsmen saw the great force that Lorenzo hadgathered, they dared attempt nothing, although they were sore grievedand lamented bitterly. And the Lady Lucia, looking from the window ofher house, beheld those who were erecting the gibbet, and wept for herlover. As for Tommasino, when he heard that he was not to be hanged,but to be set free, and Antonio to suffer death in his stead, he waslike a man mad, and his rage and grief could not be restrained; for hedeclared that he would not live if Antonio died, and did not cease toreproach himself bitterly. Therefore the Lord Lorenzo held him confinedin his own house, lest he should do himself some harm, or endeavour bysome desperate device to prevent Antonio from fulfilling his purpose;but he treated him with all courtesy, for he was sorry for his plight.

  Now Count Antonio feared his companions and did not dare to tell them ofwhat he had done, lest their obedience should fail under a strain sogreat, and they should by force prevent his going to the city. Thereforeh
e told them to rest quiet in their camp, while he, with Bena, wentabout certain necessary business; and he bade them farewell, enjoiningthem most strictly to do nothing against the Duke.

  "For," said he, "although I may not tell you fully what the business ison which I go, yet I have good hope that His Highness is favourablyinclined to you, and that in a short space you will receive from himpardon for all your offences. And that pardon I charge you to acceptwith gratitude, and, having accepted it, be thenceforward loyal servantsto His Highness."

  "But will the Duke pardon you also, my lord, and the Lord Tommasino?"asked Martolo.

  "He will pardon Tommasino also," answered Antonio. "And be assured thatI shall suffer nothing." And having said this, he shook every man by thehand, thanking them for the love and service they had shown him; and heand Bena were accompanied by all of them to the foot of Mount Agnino;and there, in the early morning of the appointed day, Antonio mountedhis horse and rode with Bena into the plain. And as they rode, Bena saidto him, "My lord, why does the Duke grant this pardon?"

  "Because I give him what he asks as the price of it, Bena," answeredAntonio; and they rode on for a while. But when Bena saw that Antonioturned his horse not towards Rilano, but directly across the plaintowards Firmola, he said, "My lord, whither are we riding?"

  "We are riding to the city, Bena," answered Antonio. "There is no causefor fear; we go by leave and on the invitation of His Highness."

  "But will he let us go again?" asked Bena.

  "You will be free to go when you will," answered Antonio, "and me theDuke will himself send forth from the city when I am ready to go." ForLorenzo had promised in the Duke's name that Antonio's body, after ithad hung three days on the gibbet, should be carried from the city tothe church of St. Prisian at Rilano, and there interred with fittingceremony.

  "Yet I do not like this ride of ours," grumbled Bena.

  "Nay, I like it not myself," said Antonio, smiling. "But for the good ofmy cousin and of all our company, we must go forward." And he stoppedfor a moment and added, "Swear to me, Bena, by St. Prisian, to obey inall I bid you in the city to-day, and not to draw your sword unless Idraw mine."

  "Do I not always obey you, my lord?" asked Bena.

  "But swear to me."

  "Well, then, I swear," said Bena, "though in truth, my lord, your wordis full as strong to me as any oath, whether by Prisian or another." Forthis man whom they called Bena was a godless man, and one that held holythings in light esteem. But he was a fine fighter and a loyal servant,and God's mercy is infinite. It may be his heart was turned at last;though indeed I have found no record of it.

  "My lord, will you see my Lady Lucia in the city?" asked Bena.

  "I trust at the least to see her face at her window," answered Antonio.

  "Will you have speech with her, my lord?"

  "If His Highness will grant me that favour, Bena."

  "Ah, I know now why you smiled, my lord, as you rode, just now. It willbe a bright day for you." And Bena laughed.

  "Indeed," said Antonio, "I trust that the day may be bright for me. Yes,bright as the light of heaven."

  "There is no light brighter than the eyes of the girl a man loves," saidBena.

  "Yes, there is one," said Antonio. But Bena did not understand hismeaning.

  Thus they rode till it wanted only two hours of noon; and then they werewithin five miles of the city, and Bena, looking, beheld the greatgibbet rising above the walls of the city and standing forth grim andblack in front of the marble face of the Cathedral.

  "What is that, my lord," he cried, "which towers above the walls of thecity?"

  "Is it not enough to know when we come there?" answered Antonio.

  Then Bena sighed, and said to Antonio, "I find it in my heart, my lord,to be half sorry that the Duke pardons us; for we lived a fine merrylife in the hills. Yet it will be pleasant to live at ease: and we haveadventures enough to tell our sweethearts, aye, and our children too,when we grow old, and they come round us and ask us for stories of ouryouth. I hope my boys will be good at a fight, my lord, and serve yoursons as I have served you."

  "It may be God's will that I leave no sons to bear my name, Bena."

  "I do not think that," said Bena with a laugh.

  They were now passing the hill on which stood the blackened walls ofAntonio's house, which Duke Valentine had burnt.

  Bena cried out at the sight. "You will need to spend much in rebuildingit," said he.

  "Perhaps His Highness has provided another dwelling for me," saidAntonio.

  "To-night he will surely lodge you, my lord, in his own palace, or, maybe, with my Lord Lorenzo."

  "Wherever it may be, I shall sleep soundly," said Antonio.

  Now they were come near to the city, and they saw a body of pikemencoming out to meet them, the Lieutenant of the Guard at the head. Andwhen they met, the Lieutenant bowed to Antonio, who greeted him mostcourteously; and the pikemen spread themselves in front and behind andon both sides of Antonio and Bena, and thus they went on towards thebridge and the city gate. But Bena eyed the pikemen with no love, andmoved restlessly in his saddle. "These fellows," said he to Antonio,"hem us in, my lord. Shall I make my horse threaten their toes a little,so that they may give us more room?"

  "Let them be," said Antonio. "It is not for long, Bena."

  At the entrance of the gate stood Lorenzo, awaiting the Count, and therethey dismounted, and Antonio passed through the gate with Lorenzo, Benabeing close to him on the other side. And when Bena saw the great forceof pikemen, and, behind their ranks, a mighty throng of people, and whenhe saw the tall gibbet and understood what it was, suddenly his facewent red and his hand flew to his sword.

  But Antonio caught his arm, saying, "My sword is not drawn, Bena."

  "My lord, what does it mean?" cried Bena in a loud voice, so thatLorenzo heard and stayed his steps and looked at Bena. "Does he notknow?" he asked of Antonio.

  "He does not know yet," said Antonio. And to Bena he said, "I have needof your sword, Bena. Give it me."

  "My sword, my lord?"

  "Yes, your sword."

  Bena looked at him with wondering frightened eyes; but slowly heunbuckled his sword from his belt and gave it to Antonio. And Antoniounbuckled his own sword also and gave them both to the Lieutenant of theGuard, saying, "Sir, I pray you to restore Bena's to him in the evening,and mine to me when I go forth to Rilano."

  But Bena clutched at Antonio's arm, crying again, "What does it mean, mylord?"

  Then Antonio took him by the hand and said, "Are we to be afraid now ofwhat we have often faced together with light hearts, Bena?"

  "Are we to die?" asked Bena.

  "You are to live and beget those brave boys, Bena. But it is otherwisewith me," said Antonio.

  Then the Lord Lorenzo, who had looked in Bena's eyes, signed to fourpikemen to come near, and they came and stood near Bena; for Lorenzofeared that he would not suffer Antonio to die without seeking to savehim or to die with him.

  "Nay, let him alone," said Antonio. "You will obey me of your free-will,Bena?"

  "Yes, my lord," said Bena; and he looked up at the gibbet; and then hecaught Antonio's hand and kissed it a score of times; and he began tosob as a child sobs. And the Guard, among whom were some that had felthis arm, marvelled to see him thus moved.

  "Let us go on," said Antonio. "It is hard on noon, and I must keep mytryst with His Highness."

  "His Highness awaits my lord by the fish-pond in the garden," saidLorenzo; and he led Antonio to the palace and brought him through thegreat hall and so to the fish-pond; and by it the Duke lay propped onpillows, yet very richly arrayed; and his little son sat by him. NowLorenzo stood aloof, but Antonio came, and, kneeling, kissed the Duke'shand, and then rose and stood before the Duke. But the boy cried, "Why,it is my Lord Antonio! Have you come back to live in the city, my LordAntonio? Ah, I am glad of it!"

  "Nay, I have not come to live in the city, my little lord," saidAntonio.

  "Whit
her do you go then?" asked the boy.

  "His Highness sends me on a journey," said Antonio.

  "Is it far?"

  "Yes, it is far," said Antonio with a smile.

  "I wish he would send another and let you stay; then we could play atrobbers again in the great hall," said the little Duke. "Father, can youfind no other lord to go in Antonio's place?"

  The Duke turned his face, pale and wasted with sickness, and his eyes,that seemed larger and deeper than they had been before, upon his son."I can send none but Antonio," said he. And calling to Lorenzo, he badehim take the boy. But the boy went reluctantly, telling Antonio that hemust return speedily. "For you promised," said he, "to teach me how touse my sword." And the Duke signed with his hand to Lorenzo, who liftedthe boy and carried him away, leaving Antonio alone with the Duke.

  "I have set my seal to the pardons as I swore," said the Duke; "andTommasino shall be free this evening; and all that he and the rest havedone against me shall be forgotten from this hour. Have you any cause ofcomplaint against me?"

  "None, my lord," said Count Antonio.

  "Is there anything that you ask of me?"

  "Nothing, my lord. Yet if it be Your Highness's pleasure that I shouldhave speech with the Lady Lucia and with my cousin, I should be wellpleased."

  "You will see them yonder in the square," said the Duke. "But otherwiseyou shall not see them."

  Then Lorenzo returned, and he led Antonio to a chamber and gave him meatand wine; and while Antonio ate, the Lord Archbishop, having heard thathe was come, came in great haste; and the venerable man was very urgentwith Antonio that he should make his peace with Heaven, so that, havingconfessed his sins and sought absolution, he might be relieved of thesentence of excommunication under which he lay, and be comforted withthe rites of the Church before he died.

  "For there are many wild and wicked deeds on your conscience," said theArchbishop, "and above all, the things that you did touching the Abbotof St. Prisian, and yet more impiously touching the Sacred Bones."

  "Indeed I have many sins to confess," said Antonio; "but, my LordArchbishop, concerning the Abbot and concerning the Sacred Bones I havenothing to confess. For even now, when I stand on the threshold ofdeath, I can perceive nothing that I did save what I could not leaveundone."

  Then the Archbishop besought him very earnestly, and even with tears;but Antonio would own no sin in these matters, and therefore theArchbishop could not relieve him from his sentence nor give him the holycomforts, but left him and returned to his own house in great distressof spirit.

  The Lord Lorenzo now came again to Antonio and said to him, "My lord,it wants but a few moments of noon." Therefore Antonio rose and wentwith him; and they came through the great hall, and, a strong escortbeing about them, took their stand at the foot of the palace steps. Thenthe Duke was borne out on his couch, high on the shoulders of hislackeys, and was set down on the topmost step: and silence having beenproclaimed, the Duke spoke to Antonio; but so weak was his voice thatnone heard save those who were very near. "Antonio of Monte Velluto,"said he, "it may be that in God's purposes I myself have not long tolive. Yet it is long enough for me to uphold and vindicate that princelypower which the same God has committed to my hands. That power you haveoutraged; many of my faithful friends you have slain; against both meand the Church you have lifted your hand. Go then to your death, thatmen may know the fate of traitors and of rebels."

  Antonio bowed low to His Highness; but, not being invited by the Duke tospeak, he said naught, but suffered Lorenzo to lead him across thesquare; and as he went, he passed where four pikemen stood by Bena,ready to lay hold on him if he moved; and Bena fell on his knees andagain kissed Antonio's hand. And Antonio, passing on, saw two younglords, followers of Lorenzo. And between them stood Tommasino; theirarms were through Tommasino's arms and they held him, though lovingly,yet firmly; and he had no sword.

  "May I speak with Tommasino?" asked Antonio.

  "His Highness has forbidden it," said Lorenzo; but Antonio paused for amoment before Tommasino; and Tommasino, greatly moved, cried piteouslyto him that he might die with him. And Antonio kissed him, and, with ashake of his head, passed on. Thus then he came to the gibbet, andmounted with Lorenzo on to the scaffold that was underneath the gibbet.And when he was seen there, a great groan went up from the people, andthe apprenticed lads, who were all gathered together on the left side ofthe gibbet, murmured so fiercely and stirred so restlessly that thepikemen faced round, turning their backs towards the scaffold, and laidtheir pikes in rest.

  Then the hour of noon struck from the clock in the tower of theCathedral; and the Master of the Duke's Household, who stood by thecouch of his master, turned his eyes to the Duke's face, seeking thesignal for Antonio's death; which when he received, he would sign to theexecutioner to set the rope round the Count's neck; for the man stood byAntonio with the rope in his hand, and Antonio was already in his shirt.But when the Master of the Household looked at the Duke, the Duke madehim no signal; yet the Duke had not fainted from his sickness, for hewas propped on his elbow, his face was eager, and his gaze was setintently across the square; and his physician, who was near, spoke tohim softly, saying, "My lord, they await the signal."

  But the Duke waved him aside impatiently, and gazed still across thesquare. And, seeing His Highness thus gazing intently, the Master of theHousehold and the physician and all the rest who were about the Duke'sperson looked also; and they saw the Lady Lucia coming forth from herhouse, clad all in white. Antonio also saw her from where he stood onthe scaffold, for the people made a way for her, and the pikemen let herpass through their ranks; so that she walked alone across the middle ofthe great square; and the eyes of all, leaving Antonio, were fixed uponher. Her face was very pale, and her hair fell on her shoulders; but shewalked firmly and swiftly, and she turned neither to right nor left, butmade straight for the spot where the Duke lay. And he, seeing hercoming, moaned once, and passed his hand thrice across his eyes, andraised himself yet higher on his arm, leaning towards her over the sideof the couch. Again he passed his hand across his brow; and thephysician regarded him very intently, yet dared not again seek to rousehis attention, and imposed silence on the Master of the Household, whohad asked in low tones, "What ails His Highness?" Then the Lady Lucia,having reached the foot of the steps, stood still there, her eyes on theDuke. Very fair was she, and sad, and she seemed rather some beautifulunsubstantial vision than a living maiden; and though she strove toform words with her lips, yet no words came; therefore it was by hermuteness that she besought pity for herself and pardon for her lover.But the Duke, leaning yet further towards her, had fallen, but that thephysician, kneeling, passed his arm round his body and held him up; andhe said in low hoarse tones and like a man that is amazed and full ofawe, and yet moved with a gladness so great that he cannot believe init, "Who is it? Who is it?"

  And the Lady Lucia still could not answer him. And he, craning towardsher, spoke to her in entreaty, "Margherita, Margherita!"

  Then indeed all marvelled; for the name that the Duke spoke was the nameby which that Princess who had been his wife and was dead had beencalled; and they perceived that His Highness, overcome by his sickness,had lost discernment, and conceived the Lady Lucia to be not herself butthe spirit of his dead love come to him from heaven, to which delusionher white robes and her death-like pallor might well incline him. Andnow the wonder and fear left his face, and there came in place of them agreat joy and rapture, so that his sunk eyes gleamed, his lips quivered,and he beckoned with his hand, murmuring, "I am ready, I am ready,Margherita!" And while this passed, all who were too distant to hear theDuke's words wondered that the signal came not, but supposed that theLady Lucia had interceded for Count Antonio, and that His Highness wasnow answering her prayer: and they hoped that he would grant it. AndAntonio stood on the scaffold between the Lord Lorenzo and theexecutioner; and his eyes were set on Lucia.

  Then the Duke spoke again to the Lady Lucia, saying, "I have beenlonely,
very lonely. How pale your face is, my sweet! Come to me. Icannot come to you, for I am very sick." And he held out his handtowards her again.

  But she was now sore bewildered, for she could not understand the wordswhich His Highness used to her, and she looked round, seeking some onewho might tell her what they meant, but none moved from his place orcame near to her; and at last she found voice enough to say in softtones, "Antonio, my lord, the Count Antonio!"

  "Aye, I know that you loved him," said the Duke. "But since then he hasdone great crimes, and he must die. Yet speak not of him now, but comehere to me, Margherita."

  Then, with wavering tread, she came towards him, mounting the first ofthe steps, and she said, "I know not what you would, my lord, nor whyyou call me by the name of Margherita. I am Lucia, and I come to askAntonio's life."

  "Lucia, Lucia?" said he, and his face grew doubtful. "Nay, but you aremy Margherita," he said.

  "No, my lord," she answered, as with trembling uncertain feet shemounted, till she stood but one step below where his couch was placed;and then she fell on her knees on the highest step and clasped herhands, crying, "Have mercy, my lord, have mercy! Think, my dear lord,how I love him; for if he dies, I must die also, my lord. Ah, my lord,you have known love. You loved our sweet Lady Margherita; was not hername now on your lips? So I love Antonio, so he loves me. Ah, my lord,Christ Jesus teaches pity!" And she buried her face in her hands andsobbed.

  Then the Duke, his physician and now the Master of the Household alsosupporting him, stretched himself over the edge of his couch, and,putting out his hand with feverish strength, plucked the Lady Lucia'shands away from her face and gazed at her face. And when he had gazed amoment, he gave a great cry, "Ah, God!" and flung his arms up above hishead and fell back into the arms of his physician, who laid him down onhis couch, where he lay motionless, his eyes shut and his chin restingon his breast. And all looked at the physician, but he answered, "Nay,he is not dead yet."

  "Why tarries the signal?" asked Antonio of Lorenzo on the scaffold.

  "It must be that the Lady Lucia beseeches him for your life, my lord,"answered Lorenzo. "Indeed heartily do I wish the Duke would hearken toher prayer."

  "He will not turn for her," said Antonio.

  But presently the report of what had passed spread from those round theDuke to the pikemen, and they, loving a marvel as most men do, mustneeds tell it to the people, and a murmur of wonder arose, and thereport reached the guards at the scaffold, who came and told Lorenzo, inthe hearing of Antonio, of the strange delusion that had come upon theDuke.

  "He must be sick to death," said Lorenzo.

  "I pray not," said Count Antonio. "For though he is a stern man, yet heis an able and just prince, and this fancy of his is very pitiful."

  "Do you spare pity for him?" asked Lorenzo.

  "Shall I not pity all who have lost their loves?" answered Antonio witha smile, and his eye rested on the form of the Lady Lucia kneeling bythe Duke's couch.

  For hard on half an hour the Duke lay as he had fallen, but at last, hisphysician having used all his skill to rouse him, he opened his eyes;and he clutched his physician's hand and pointed to Lucia, asking, "Whois she?"

  "It is the Lady Lucia, my lord," answered the physician.

  "And there was none else?" asked the Duke in a low tremulous whisper.

  "I saw no other, my lord."

  "But I saw her," said the Duke. "I saw her even as I saw her last, whenshe lay on her bed and they took the child out of her dead arms."

  "It was the weakness of your malady, my lord, that made the visionbefore your eyes."

  "Alas, was it no more?" moaned the Duke. "Indeed, I am very weak; thereis a blur before my eyes. I cannot see who this lady is that kneelsbefore me. Who is she, and what ails her?" And having said this infretful weary tones, he lay back on his pillow gasping.

  Then the Master of the Household came forward and said to him, "My lord,this is the Lady Lucia, and she kneels before your Highness praying forthe life of Count Antonio, because she loves him."

  Now the name of Count Antonio, when spoken to him, moved the Duke morethan all the ministrations of his physician; he roused himself onceagain, crying, "Antonio! I had forgotten Antonio. Does he still live?"

  "Your Highness has not given the signal for his death."

  "Have I not? Then here----"

  He moved his hand, but with a great cry the Lady Lucia sprang forwardand seized his hand before he could raise it, kneeling to him andcrying, "No, no, my lord, no, no, no!" And the Duke had no strength tofling her off, but he gasped, "Free me from her!" And the Master of theHousehold, terrified lest in her passion she should do violence to HisHighness, roughly tore her hands from the Duke's hand, and the Duke,released, sat up on his couch, and he said, in a strange hard voice thatwas heard of all, even to the scaffold, and yet seemed not the voicethat they knew as his, "Let Antonio----" But then he stopped; he chokedin his throat, and, catching at his shirt, tore it loose from him. "LetAntonio!"----he cried again. "Let Antonio!"----And he sat there for aninstant; and his eyes grew dim, the intelligence departing from them;once again he opened his lips, but nothing came from them save a gasp;and with a thud he fell back on his pillows, and, having rolled once onhis side, turned again on his back and lay still. And a great hush fellon every man in the square, and they looked in one another's faces, butfound no answer.

  For Valentine, Duke and Lord of Firmola, was dead of his sickness at themoment when he had sought to send Antonio to death. Thus marvellouslydid Heaven in its high purposes deal with him.

  "His Highness is dead," said the physician. And the Master of theHousehold, as his duty was, came to the front of the Duke's couch, and,standing there before all the people, broke the wand of his office, andlet the broken fragments fall upon the marble steps; and he cried aloud,"Hear all of you! It hath pleased Almighty God to take unto Himself thesoul of the noble and illustrious Prince, Valentine, Duke and Lord ofFirmola. May his soul find peace!"

  But there came from the people no answering cry of "Amen," as, accordingto the custom of the Duchy, should have come. For they were amazed atthe manner of this death; and many crossed themselves in fear, and womensobbed. And Lorenzo, standing on the scaffold by Antonio, was struckwith wonder and fear, and clutched Antonio's arm, crying, "Can it bethat the Duke is dead?" And Antonio bowed his head, answering, "MayChrist receive his soul!"

  Then the Master of the Household came forward again and cried, "Hear allof you! According to the high pleasure and appointment of Almighty God,the noble and illustrious Prince, Valentine, Second of that Name, isfrom this hour Duke and Lord of Firmola; whom obey, serve, and honour,all of you. May his rule be prosperous!"

  And this time there came a low murmur of "Amen" from the people. Butbefore more could pass, there was a sudden commotion in the squarebefore the scaffold. For Bena, seeing what was done, and knowing thatthe Duke was dead, had glanced at the pikemen who stood near; and whenhe saw that they looked not at him but towards where the Master of theHousehold stood, he sprang forward and ran like a deer to the scaffold;and he leapt up to the scaffold before any could hinder him, and hecried in a mighty loud voice, saying, "By what warrant do you hold mylord a prisoner?"

  Then the apprentices raised a great cheer and with one accord pressedupon the pikemen, who, amazed by all that had passed, gave way beforethem; and the apprentices broke their bounds and surged like a billow ofthe sea up to the foot of the scaffold, shouting Antonio's name; and theyoung lords who held Tommasino came with him and broke through andreached the scaffold; for they feared for Lorenzo, and yet would not letTommasino go: and Lorenzo was sore at a loss, but he drew his sword andcried that he would slay any man that touched Antonio, until the rightof the matter should be known.

  "Indeed, if you will give me a sword, I will slay him myself," saidAntonio. "For I stand here by my own will, and according to the promiseI gave to the Duke; and if there be lawful authority to hang me, hangme; but if not, dispose of me as the laws
of the Duchy bid."

  "I have no authority," said Lorenzo, "save what the Duke gave; and nowhe is dead."

  Then the Count Antonio fastened his shirt again about his neck and puton his doublet; and he signed to Bena to stand on one side of him, andhe bade the young lords loose Tommasino. And he said to Lorenzo, "Let usgo together to the palace." And now he was smiling. Then they came downfrom the scaffold and passed across the square, a great multitudefollowing them. And when they came to the steps of the palace, theDuke's body was covered with a rich brocaded cloth that some hand hadbrought from his cabinet; and the little Duke stood there with his handin the Master of the Household's hand; and the child was weepingbitterly, for he was very frightened; and over against him stood theLady Lucia, motionless as though she had been turned to stone; for thestrange thing that had come about through her approaching of the Dukehad bewildered her brain. But when the boy saw Antonio he let go thehand he held and ran to Antonio and leapt into his arms. Then Antoniolifted him and showed him to the people, who hailed him for Duke; andAntonio set him down and knelt before him and kissed his hand. And thechild cried, "Now that my father is dead, Antonio, you must not go onyour journey, but you must stay with me. For if I am Duke, I must learnto use my sword without delay, and no man but you shall teach me."

  "Shall I not go on my journey, my lord?" asked Antonio.

  "No, you shall not go," said the little Duke.

  Then Antonio turned to the lords who stood round and said, "Behold, mylords, His Highness pardons me."

  But the lords doubted; and they said to Antonio, "Nay, but he does notknow what he does in pardoning you."

  "He understands as well, I think," said Antonio, "as his fatherunderstood when he sent me to death. Indeed, my lords, it is notchildren only who know not what they do." And at this speech Tommasinosmiled and Bena laughed gruffly. But the lords, bidding Antonio restwhere he was till they returned, retired with the little Duke into thepalace, and sent word hastily to the Archbishop that he should jointhem there and deliberate with them as to what it might be best to do.And when they were thus gone in, Antonio said, "I may not move, but theLady Lucia is free to move."

  Then Tommasino went to the lady and spoke to her softly, telling herthat Antonio desired to speak with her; and she gave Tommasino her hand,and he led her to Antonio, who stood within the portico, screened fromthe sight of the people. And there they were left alone.

  But meanwhile the whole body of the townsmen and the apprentices hadgathered before the palace, and their one cry was for Antonio. For thefear of the Duke being no longer upon them, and the pikemen not knowingwhom to obey and being therefore disordered, the people became verybold, and they had stormed the palace, had not one come to Antonio andimplored him so show himself, that the people might know that he wassafe. Therefore he came forward with the Lady Lucia, who was now no morebewildered, nor petrified with fear or astonishment, but was weepingwith her eyes and smiling with her lips and clinging to Antonio's arm.And when the people saw them thus, they set up a great shout, that washeard far beyond the city walls; and the apprenticed lads turned and ranin a body across the square, and swarmed on to the scaffold. And thenand there they plucked down the gibbet and worked so fiercely that inthe space of half an hour there was none of it left.

  And now the Archbishop with the lords came forth from the councilchamber, and the little Duke with them. And they caused the servants toremove the body of the dead Duke, and they set his son on a high seat,and put a sceptre in his hand. And the Archbishop offered up a prayerbefore the people; and, having done this, he turned to Antonio and said,"My Lord Antonio, most anxiously have His Highness and we of his Councilconsidered of this matter; and it has seemed to us all--my own in truthwas the sole reluctant voice, and now I also am brought to the samemind--that whereas the virtuous purposes of princes are meet to beremembered and made perpetual by faithful fulfilment after their death,yet the errors of which they, being mortal, are guilty should notoverlive them nor be suffered to endure when they have passed away. Andthough we are not blind to your offences, yet we judge that in thebeginning the fault was not yours. Therefore His Highness decrees yourpardon for all offences against his civil state and power. And I myself,who hold authority higher than any earthly might, seeing in what thisday has witnessed the finger of God Himself, do not fight against it,but will pray you, so soon as you may fit yourself thereunto by prayerand meditation, to come in a humble mind and seek again the blessing ofthe Church. For in what you did right and in what you outstepped right,God Himself must one day judge, and I will seek to judge of it no more."

  "My lord," said Antonio, "I have done much wrong. Yet I will own nowrong in the matter of the Abbot nor in that of the Sacred Bones."

  But the lord Archbishop smiled at Antonio, and Antonio bent and kissedthe ring that was on his finger; and the old man laid his hand for amoment on Antonio's head, saying, "It may be that God works sometimes inways that I may not see."

  Thus then it was that the Count Antonio was restored to his place, andcame again to Firmola; and, having been relieved of the sentence ofexcommunication that had been laid upon him, he was wedded in theCathedral to the Lady Lucia as soon as the days of mourning for the Dukehad passed. And great was the joy in the city at their wedding; forevery maid and every man saw in the triumph of Antonio's love a sign ofthe favour of Heaven to those who love with a pure and abiding passion.So they made great feasts, and were marvellously merry; and Bena let notthe day go by without plighting his troth to a comely damsel, sayingwith a twinkle in his eye that the Count Antonio would have need of hissons, whose services he had promised to him as they rode together acrossthe plain on the morning when Antonio had supposed that he was to die.Nor would Bena give any other reason whatsoever for the marriage.Nevertheless it is likely that there were others. But whether Benafulfilled his promise I know not; for, as I have said, so little isknown concerning him that his true name does not survive, and it hasproved an impossible thing to discover whether any of his descendantsyet live in Firmola. If it chance that they do, I trust that they fightas well, and serve as loyally, and pray better than he. But Martolo hasleft those that bear his name, and a great-grandson of his is at thisvery time huntsman to the Monastery of St. Prisian, where I have seenand talked with him many times.

  The task which I laid upon myself thus finds its end. For there is noneed for me to tell of the after-deeds of Count Antonio of MonteVelluto, nor how, in the space of a few months, he was chosen by all thelords to be Ruler and Protector of the State during the infancy of theDuke; in which high office he did many notable deeds, both of war andpeace, and raised the Duchy to a great height of power, and conferredmany favours on the townsmen of Firmola, whom he loved and cherishedbecause they had not forsaken him nor ceased to love him during all theyears that he dwelt an outlaw in the hills. And he built again his houseon the hill which Duke Valentine had burnt, and dwelt there with Lucia,and with Tommasino also, until Tommasino took to wife that same lady forwhose sake he had lingered and thus fallen into the hands of the lordLorenzo, and went and dwelt at Rilano, where those of his house stilldwell. But when the young Duke came of an age to reign, the CountAntonio delivered his charge into his hand, yet continued to counselhim, and was very high in authority. And neighbouring princes alsosought his aid and his counsel, and he was greatly honoured of all men.Thus if there were aught in his youth that merits censure, it may beheld that he blotted out the shame of it by his after-life, for hislater days were filled with honourable service to his Prince and to hiscountry.

  Yet the heart of man is a vain thing; for when I, who am known to havelearnt all that can be recovered from the mists of past times concerningCount Antonio, am asked--and whether it be by men or women, by boys orgirls, aye, or by toddling infants--to tell them a tale of the greatCount Antonio, it is not of the prudent ruler, nor of the wisecounsellor, nay, nor even of the leader of the Duke's army, that theywould hear, but always of Antonio when he was an outlaw, banned by hisPrince and b
y the Church, living by the light of his own heart and bythe strength of his own hand, secured only by the love and duty of thelawless men who followed him, and risking his life every day and everyhour for the sake of the bright eyes of that lady who waited for him inthe city. And when I, thinking to check this perversity, bid them lookrather on his more worthy and sober days, they answer with a laugh, "Butwhy, father, do you not write the story of those more worthy and soberdays?" Nor will they believe when I say that it is but because the deedsof those days are elsewhere recorded. In good truth, I believe that inour hearts we love a lawless man! Here, then, ye perverse children, arethe stories; they are all that you shall have from me. Read them; maythey teach you to be true comrades, faithful lovers of one maid, and,since strife must needs come until God's pleasure bring peace to reignon earth, able, when occasion calls, to give and take good blows. Aye,never laugh. I have said it. A Churchman is a man.

 

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