The Honour of Savelli: A Romance

by S. Levett Yeats

  CHAPTER III.

  MADAME D'ENTRANGUES.

  When I left the door of the justice room I had to pass through themain court-yard, and run the gauntlet of open scorn and contempt,bestowed upon me by all assembled there. It was a great thing forthem, for those whom the French call _canaille_--we have no suchappropriate word in our own tongue--to see a noble dragged in the dustand covered with infamy. And they did not spare me, taunt and jeerpassed from mouth to mouth. Some even would have gone so far as tostrike at me, had not their officers prevented them.

  "Ah, _Croque-mort!_" exclaimed an arquebusier, "you should hang;" butthe man stepped back a half-pace at my look, and, gaining the outergate, I pressed on, hardly knowing whither my steps led me. I soonfound out I was going in the direction of Arezzo itself, and as thatwas as good as any other place for me at present, I made no alterationin my course; but anxious to get on as fast as possible, quickened mypace almost to a run, until I was tired out, and perforce compelled togo slower.

  This happened when I had covered about a mile, and was beginning theascent leading to the town; and here I heard behind me the clatter ofhorses' hoofs, and looking back beheld a party riding in my direction.I turned aside, and, concealing myself behind the stem of a locusttree, waited until the riders should pass. This they did in a fewmoments, and I saw it was Tremouille and his staff returning to thetown. By the side of the duchess, who was riding with her husband, wasBayard, mounted on a bay English horse, which he managed with infinitegrace and dexterity.

  Madame de la Tremouille was in the best of humours, most probably atthe recovery of her circlet, for she was laughing gaily as she saidsomething; but they went by too rapidly for me to catch the words. Iwaited until the troop was lost in the yellow dust which rose behindthem, and then, stepping forth from my hiding-place, became aware thatI was not alone; but that a body was hanging from a branch of the treeclose to where I was standing, and this I had not noticed in myeagerness to escape observation. It needed but a glance to recogniseTarbes, my scoundrel, who had paid so long a price for his treachery;he was swinging there dead enough, overreached and destroyed by themaster-villain.

  The sight of my dead knave brought up an angry wave of hatred in myheart towards D'Entrangues, and I prayed that I might not die until Iwas even with him. So great was the uprising of my anger, that at thetime I bitterly regretted not having seized the opportunity to woundhim, by plainly answering Tremouille's last question. With my rageagainst D'Entrangues, there came an almost similar feeling towardsMadame, and I began to accuse her in my heart of being the originalcause of my misfortunes, and of conspiring, by her silence, to set theseal of my ruin. I did not stop to think that I was ruined already,and that it mattered little whether Madame allowed me to be silent ornot. I only felt that she had made me pay too great a price for herreputation, and that she had sacrificed me mercilessly.

  When I hastened from the scene of my condemnation, I had no otheridea but of death, of self-destruction rather than life as it would benow to me; but I put aside all these thoughts for I had to live forrevenge. That would be my first object, and until it was achieved Iwould not rest. With this in my mind I gained the St. Clement Gate ofArezzo, passing through without notice.

  Walking down the Via San Dominico, I turned to the right by theBorgo di San Vito, and here I was recognised and hooted. Pressinghurriedly forwards, and aided opportunely by the passage of a body ofmen-at-arms, coming through the street in a direction opposite to thatof my followers, I succeeded in shaking off my tormentors, and turningagain to the right up a narrow street, entered a barber's shop to havemy beard removed in order to disguise myself as far as possible. Thebarber, a fussy little fellow, placed me before a mirror of polishedsteel, and as he set to work stropping a razor on the palm of hishand, I removed my cap, and for the first time observed that the hairof my head was thickly streaked with grey.

  "Your excellency has doubtless come to join the army," said the barberin a tone of inquiry as he drew his razor across my face.

  "Ah, yes, yes; I have just come," I replied, and the little man wenton--

  "There have been great doings to-day. 'Tis said the duke has orderedthe Count di Savelli to be executed for having in his possession afavour of Madame. They say the count stole it, but we know better,don't we, your excellency?" and the little fool chuckled to himself.He went on without waiting for an answer. "Ah, yes; the ladies cannever resist us soldiers. I may tell you that I served with Don CarloBaglioni, and can bear my pike--there now, I think that side is cleanshaven--as I was saying before, it was hard on the Marquis di Savelli,a gallant noble whom I frequently saw--pardon, your excellency, it isbut a scratch after all--had you not moved so suddenly, still only ascratch, nothing for a soldier. The Marquis di Savelli, as I said, wasa regular customer of mine, and he had a lovely head of hair, yourexcellency. It was not so much before I took him in hand. _Ecco!_ butin a month you should have seen! He came in here in his free easy way,and flung me ten crowns. 'Buy a ribbon for Madonna Giulia with that,Messer Pazzi,' says he; 'and harkee, send me over six more bottles ofyour elixir of St. Symmachus. _Maldetto!_' he exclaimed, twisting hiscurls between his fingers, 'but she adores me now.' Now who, I say,could _she_ have been but--_tchick_? _Diavolo_? it is done; never acleaner shave in Rome itself. If your excellency's fortune grows aswell as your hair, I could wish you no better luck."

  I rose in silence, and, flinging him a crown, bade him pay himself,and receiving my change, hurried out, declining all Messer Pazzi'sentreaties to bear with me a bottle of his precious elixir of St.Symmachus or any other accursed balsam. I saw at a glance that theremoval of my beard caused a considerable alteration in my appearance,and imagined if I could but change my attire, my most intimate friendswould not know me unless they observed closely; and even then mightperhaps fail to recognise me. This view, as it turned out, was notquite correct, and I had yet to learn how difficult a thing it is toarrange a complete disguise.

  A few doors further on I laid out some of my money in the purchaseof a stout leather buff coat, along dark mantle, and a cap to match.The cap was ornamented with a single black feather; and when I haddonned these garments I felt that, wrapped in the cloak, with the cappulled well over my eyes, and the feather standing defiantly out tothe side, that I wanted but a fathom of sword to make myself asruffianly-looking a bravo as ever trod the purlieus of Naples or Rome.But the sword was some difficulty, for my crowns had dwindled tosixteen. Fortunately I had on my finger a sapphire ring, and this Ipledged for twenty crowns, and made my way to the armourer's. I thereselected a long straight weapon, with a plain cross handle and acutting blade, such as would be useful for rough work, and, after somehaggling, got it for ten pieces. The armourer assured me that it was asound blade, and I may say it did me good service. It now hangs in mybed-chamber, a little chipped, it is true, but as bright and as fitfor use as the day I paid for it, with a heavy heart, in Don Piero'sshop, near the gate of St. Lawrence in Arezzo.

  I began now to feel the want of food, for beyond the cup of Chiantibrought to me by the under-officer I had tasted nothing sinceyesterday evening, and therefore stepping into an ordinary called fora flagon of wine and a pasty. Whilst engaged in assaulting these,half-a-dozen men, whom I recognised as belonging to the garrison,entered the hostel, but to my joy I saw I was not known to them, andafter a casual glance at me they fell to eating their meal.

  I was however perforce compelled to listen to their conversation,which was carried on in the loud tone men of their class affect, andfound to my annoyance that they were discussing me, and the events ofthe day. In order to escape this I was about to rise, when I heard oneof them mention D'Entrangues' name, and stopped to listen.

  "He has left for Florence, and, it is said, intends to offer his swordto the Signory," said one.

  "And the other?"

  "Heaven knows! Perhaps Braccio's arm has reached him, poor devil!"

  "Well, he was a good soldie
r and a stout lance."

  "_Basta!_" said the first speaker. "What does a little lightness offinger matter? Play it in a small way, you're a thief, and food forMesser Braccio, curse him! Play it on a big scale and you're a prince.I for one don't think the less of Di Savelli because perhaps his handat cards was always too good, and he made that little error in thematter of the rubies. A gentleman is sometimes driven to hard straits.I was a gentleman once and ought to know. I give you a toast--Here'sto a long sword and a light hand!"

  They drank with acclamation, and then set to a-dicing. I had howeverheard enough, and settling my account with the host, stepped forthinto the street, intending to depart from the town by the Porta SanSpirito or Roman Gate, leaving the camp over my shoulder, and to makemy way to Florence as soon as possible. There I would meetD'Entrangues, and kill him like a mad dog. I ground my teeth with ragewhen I thought I had no horse, nor even the means to purchase one, andmust trudge it like any _contadino_. But if I had to crawl on my handsand knees, I was determined to reach Florence and D'Entrangues.

  It was however not yet sundown, and my idea was to leave the city whenit was well dusk to avoid all possible chance of recognition. I meantto have passed the interval in the inn; but, as I felt this wasimpossible, it was necessary to find another spot where I could lay inquiet. With this end in view I crossed the Piazza di Popolo in aneasterly direction, and went on until I came to the Franciscan church,into which I entered, not, I am sorry to say, with any desire fordevotion, but merely because I was less likely to be disturbed therethan anywhere else I could imagine. I was right, in so far that onentering the church I found it, as I thought, empty, but on lookinground I saw beneath the newly-completed wheel-window, the work ofGuillaume de Marseille, a kneeling figure, apparently absorbed inprayer. I had approached quite close before I became aware that I wasnot alone, and was about to turn away, when, perhaps startled by thesound of my footfalls on the marble pavement, the person rosehurriedly and looked towards me. It was Madame D'Entrangues. Herglance met mine for a second as that of a stranger, but as I wasmoving away some trick of gesture, or perhaps the hot anger in myeyes, told her who I was, for, calling my name, she came towards mewith outstretched hands.

  "Di Savelli," she said, for I made no advance, "do you not know me?"

  "Madame," I bowed, "I am unfit to touch you."

  "No, no--a thousand times no! It is I who am unworthy."

  I still remained silent, and she asked with a passionate emphasis--

  "Man, have you never sinned?"

  The words struck me like a shot. I felt in a moment I had no right tostand in judgment.

  "God knows," I replied, "I have, and I have been punished."

  With that she took hold of my hand, and then suddenly burst intotears, weeping over me with words I cannot repeat. It was not for meto fling reproaches, and I softened and did what I could to appeaseher.

  "I could not help it," she said, "I was not strong enough to speak orto let you speak. Oh, you do not know what such a thing is to awoman!"

  "Let it pass, madame. What is dead is dead."

  "I cannot. And yet, what can I do?" Her tears began afresh.

  In a little time she grew better, and I seized the opportunity topoint out the danger she ran of being seen speaking to me, andsuggested that she should make her way home. It was impossible toescort her myself, but I would walk a little way behind, keep her insight, and see she came to no harm. I urged this all the more as I sawit was growing late, and that she was without any attendants and farfrom the camp.

  "You mistake," she said; "I have not far to go. In fact I am atpresent the guest of the convent here."

  "And----" I did not finish the sentence, but she understood. I hadforced myself to ask, to hear, if possible, confirmation ofD'Entrangues' movements.

  "He," she answered--"he has left the army and gone towards Florence."

  "And you?"

  "I stay here for the present."

  Her tone more than her words convinced me that she had been abandonedby D'Entrangues, and it added another mark to my score against him.

  "Why should I not tell you?" she continued. "After, when it was allover, the duke struck his name off the army, and he left in an hour.Before he went, he came and told me all, laughing at your ruin. I didnot know man could be so vile. God help me--it is my husband I speakof! He offered to take me with him, but I refused; and he left,mocking like a devil, with words I cannot repeat. He was not done withyou or with me, he said, as he went. I came here at once, and perhapswhen Madame de la Tremouille returns to France, I shall be enabled togo with her in her train."

  "Excuse my asking it," I said, "but have you----?"

  "Oh, yes," she smiled sadly, "it is not that in any way."

  At this moment I looked up and saw that it was sunset. Through thewheel-window the orange beams streamed in a long banner, and lit upthe figure of the saint above us. The rays fell on madame's pale face,and touched with fire the gold of her hair. We stood before each otherin a dead silence.

  "Good-bye," I said, extending my hand.

  She placed her own in it and our eyes met.

  It was a moment of danger to both. Leper as I was, I had but to liftmy hand, but to say a word, and here was one who would have followedme like a dog. I felt her weakness in her look, in the touch of herhand, which shivered as it lay in mine like a captive bird. At once afire leapt up within me. I had lost all--everything. Why not throwrevenge after my losses, and with her by my side seek a new fortunewith a new name? The grand Turk needed soldiers, and what mattered itwhether it was cross or crescent that I served?'

  But the woman became strong as I grew weak.

  "Go!" she said faintly.

  I dropped her hand, and, turning without a word, strode down theaisle. As I reached the church door the bells of the Angelus rang out,and yielding to a sudden impulse I looked back.

  Madame was on her knees before the saint.