CHAPTER XVIII.
THE OPAL RING.
"His eminence will await the Signor' Donati at supper this evening."
Defaure delivered his message, received his answer, and tripped away,his little page's cap set jauntily on the side of his head, and thehaft of his dagger clinking against the silver chain which held it tohis belt. As for me, my heart leaped at the words, for I felt sure mybusiness was come, and summoning Jacopo, I gave him the necessaryorders to have our men in readiness for an immediate start. I thensought St. Armande, and told him what I expected.
"I am ready," he said simply.
"Very well, then sup lightly, and await me in my apartments."
I turned back, and on reaching my rooms, was surprised to find I had avisitor awaiting me. It was Corte. As I have said, he had cast asidehis fantastic dress, and was robed as a doctor. He still kept hisheavy book under his arm, and the features of his curious seamed face,and thin bloodless lips, were as pale as if he had arisen from thedead. His eyes alone blazed with an unnatural brilliancy, but he wasoutwardly calm.
"I came but to see if you were safe, signore, after last night," hesaid as he took my hand.
"Thanks," I replied, offering him a seat, "we are all quite safe.Nothing happened. The Don was not there, either he had changed hismind, or we were in too strong force."
"A little of both, I should think," he said with a thin smile, as heplaced his book on the table. "Signore," he went on, "are you not alittle surprised and curious to see me as I am?"
"Well, Messer Corte, I will own to it. But I am honestly glad thatFortune has given the wheel a right turn for you."
"It is not Fortune," he said, "it is something greater. It is Fate. Nochance turn of the wheel of a sleeping goddess. When I fled from you,signore, on that day," his voice choked a little, "I came to Rome.Never mind how. Here a great man found me. Great men pick up littlethings for their purposes sometimes. And Matthew Corte, who is but alittle man, knows things the great man does not know. Ho! ho!" and helaughed mirthlessly.
"And that has put crowns in your purse?"
"Yes, crowns in my purse, crowns in my purse," he repeated, and thenthe old madness came upon him, and he rose and paced the room. "Icould have done it last night, made the hilt of my dagger ring againsthis heart--the devil--the devil. But he is not to die this way--notthus--not thus. He will die as no other man has died, and it will comesoon, very soon--Matthew Corte swears this."
He stopped suddenly, and turned to me with the question:
"Have you ever seen a mad dog die?"
"No," I answered, wondering what would come next.
"Well, my dog is dead."
"I am sorry," I began, but he interrupted.
"Dead, I say. Life went from it in writhings and twistings, in screamsof agony--the little beast, poor little beast! I would have ended itsmisery, but I wanted to see. I wanted to find some death so horrible,that it would pass the invention of man. And I have found it, signore.See this toy of a knife! This fairy's dagger!" and he held up a tinylancet, "only a touch of it, and a man would die as that dog did, inwrithings, in twistings, in screams----"
I rose and put my hand on his arm, keeping my eyes steadily on hisface.
"Corte," I said, "this is not like you. You are not well. Here is somewine," and I poured him out a goblet of Orvieto. He drained it at agulp, and sat with his head buried in his hands.
As he sat there the scene in the lonely hut, when I went forth anoutcast from Arezzo came back to me, and there rose before me the dimlight of the torch, the mad figure of my host, I could almost hear thepattering of the rain and the dying hisses of the log fire without.Then I saw other things as well, and a pity came on me for the manbefore me. A sudden thought struck me, and acting on the impulse ofthe moment, I spoke.
"See here, Corte! You are ill, you want rest, quiet. Throw off thesedark thoughts, and do what I say. Two miles from Colza, in theBergamasque, lies a small farm. It is mine. Mine still, thoughmortgaged. Go there. Ask for the Casino Savelli, and say you have comefrom me--from Ugo di Savelli. You know my name now, and they will wantnothing more from you. Live there until you are better, or as long asyou like. The air is pure, in the hills there is the bouqueton for youto hunt, the life is good. Will you do this?"
He lifted his head, and looked at me. Then rising, he placed one handon each of my shoulders, thin hands they were, with long bony fingersthat held like claws.
"Signore," he said with emotion, "Donati or Savelli--whoever youare--you are a good man. I thank you, but it cannot be. Good-bye!" andlifting up his book, he turned and strode out of the room, leaving mea little chilled. I was glad indeed to hear De Briconnet's gay voice amoment later, as he bustled in.
"_Sacre nom du Chien!_" he exclaimed. "But who is that old madman,cavaliere, who has just left your apartments? I met him on the stairs,muttering curses that would make a dead man's hair stand on end."
"You have hit it, De Briconnet. He is a madman. I have someacquaintance with him, and his story is a sad one. I believe he hasfound a protector in the Cardinal Sforza."
"A queer sort of pet for his eminence to keep--thanks," and he helpedhimself to the Orvieto. "_Ciel!_ my head still hums after last night.So your little affair was but a flash in the pan--eh?"
"Yes, there was no blood letting, as I told you last night."
"Oh, I remember--no, I forget, last night is too far back to recallanything with certainty. I want a little exercise. Take pity on me.Come to my rooms, and have a turn with the foils. I have a new pair byCastagni, the Milanese, and want to try them."
"At your service--what! Not another glass! Then come on."
It was something to do, and passed away a full hour. After that I cameback to my rooms, and, with an impatient heart, waited for my meetingwith D'Amboise. I saw to the packing of a valise, went down and lookedat the horses, closely inspected the arms and mounts of my men, wholooked capable of anything, and, in one way and another, managed toget through the time, until about the sixth hour, when his eminencesupped. I presented myself punctually, and was ushered into an innerapartment which I had not hitherto seen, and where the supper wasevidently to be held, for the table was set out there. I was alone atfirst, and seating myself on a lounge, looked about me. The room wassmall, but beautifully fitted up, and had all the appearance of beingthe cardinal's private study. By my side was a table on which wasspread a map, with various crosses marked on it in red chalk, thechalk itself lying on the map, where it had been carelessly flung. Infront of me was an altar, surmounted by a silver crucifix, bearing anexquisitely carved Christ. Near it, in a corner, leaned a longstraight sword, from whose cross handle hung a pair of fine steelgauntlets. Resting on a cushion, placed on a stand, was the cardinal'shat, and behind the stand I could see the brown outline of a pair ofriding-boots, and the glitter of burnished spurs. In a corner of theroom was a large table, set out with writing materials and coveredwith papers. Running my eyes over these idly, I finally let them reston the supper-table which was arranged with lavish profusion. Thecurtains of the windows were drawn, and the light from eight tallcandles, in jewelled holders, fell on the rose and amber of the winein the quaint flasks, on the cheerful brown crusts of the pasties, onthe gay enamelling of the comfitures, and on the red gold of theplate. I noticed, too, that the table was set for three only. It wasevidently a private supper, where things were to be discussed, and Ibecame glad, for I felt already a step onwards towards winning back myname, and--I seemed to see in the mirror on the wall to my left, avision of a woman with dark hair, and dark eyes----
"Your eminence!" I fairly started up. I had not observed the entranceof D'Amboise, until he stood beside me, and touched me lightly on theshoulder.
"Dreaming, cavaliere! I did not think you were so given. I am afraidthat, late as I am, I must still keep you from your supper, for Iexpect another guest. Ha! there he is!"
Indeed, as he spoke the door swung open noisel
essly, and Machiavellientered. He was plainly and simply dressed, and wore no sword, merelya dagger at his side. I thought, however, I caught the gleam of asteel corselet under his vest, as he greeted the cardinal, andD'Amboise's own sapphire was not more brilliant, than the single opalwhich blazed on the secretary's hand.
"This is the Cavaliere Donati, your excellency," said the cardinal,"but I think you know each other."
Machiavelli extended his hand to me, with his inscrutable smile; butas I met his eyes, I saw that they were troubled and anxious. He,however, spoke with easy unconcern.
"Well met, Messer Donati. I can only say I am sorry we parted so soon.I would have given much to have had you in Florence for a few daysmore."
"Your excellency is most kind."
"St. Dennis!" said the cardinal, "but are you gentlemen going toexchange compliments, and starve instead of sitting to supper. Burin,are we not ready?" and he turned to his grey-haired major-domo, whohad entered the room.
"Your eminence is served," replied the man, and we took our seats oneach side of the table, D'Amboise between us.
"You need not wait, Burin, but remain in the passage." Burin steppedout silently, and the cardinal said with an air of apology, "Youmust not mind so informal a repast, gentlemen; but we have much todiscuss--pleasure first, however--my maitre d'hotel has an artist'ssoul, and he will have a fit if we do not touch this pasty."
The cardinal ate and talked. I now and then put in a word, but thesecretary was very silent, and hardly touched anything.
"St. Dennis!" said D'Amboise, "but your excellency is a poortrencherman. And I heard so much of you!"
"Your eminence will excuse me, when I say I have had bad news."
D'Amboise became grave at once. "Let me say how sorry I am. It is nota matter of state?" and he glanced meaningly at the secretary.
"Not in the least; but much worse--a domestic matter. I do not see whyI should not tell you. That cursed brigand Baglioni has seized on myward Angiola Castellani, and holds her a fast prisoner in Perugia."
I felt cold all over to my feet.
"The Lady Angiola?" I exclaimed.
"Precisely," said Machiavelli, drily; "I think you have met."
"But this can be easily remedied," burst in D'Amboise; "a demand fromthe Signory, a word from France."
"Will not bring the dead to life again," put in the secretary.
"My God!" I burst out, "she is not dead?"
"Worse than that," he said; "it was done by Cesare's orders."
"Then Cesare Borgia will pay with his life for this," I exclaimed.
At this moment there was a knock at the door, and Burin entered,bearing a silver flagon, the stopper of which was made of aquaintly-carved dragon.
"Your eminence ordered this with the second service," he said, placingit before D'Amboise, and retiring.
"I pledge you my word, your excellency, that I will not rest untilfull reparation has been made for this outrage on an ally of France,"said D'Amboise. "I could almost find it in my heart to let loose openwar for this."
"We are not ready, your eminence. Rest assured of my thanks, and Iwill gladly accept your aid; but at present we can do nothing. This,however, has not decreased my zeal for the measures we are planning;and with your permission we will now discuss these, and put aside myprivate trouble."
For me, I could hardly breathe. A hundred feelings were tossingtogether within me, all that I could think of was to throw asideeverything, to gallop to Perugia, to save her at any cost. Thecardinal's voice came to me as from a distance.
"I agree--one glass each of this all round, and then--cavaliere, wouldyou mind handing me those glasses?"
Three peculiar shaped, straw-coloured Venetian glasses were close tome, these I passed onwards mechanically to D'Amboise, and he went on,filling the glasses to the brim with wine from the flagon, as hespoke.
"I admired the rare workmanship of this flagon last night, and hisholiness sent it home with me, full to the brim with this Falernian,which Giulia Bella herself poured into it. The wine is of a pricelessbrand, and our lord was good enough to say, that if I liked it, hewould send me all in his cellars if I only let him know."
"We will drink this then, with your eminence's permission, to thesuccess of the undertaking," said the secretary, poising his glass inthe air.
"Right," said D'Amboise. "Gentlemen, success to our venture!"
He raised the wine to his lips. I silently did the same.
"Hold!"
We stopped in amaze, and Machiavelli, who had spoken, quietly emptiedhis glass into a bowl beside him.
"What does this mean?" said the cardinal.
"This, your eminence," and Machiavelli held out his hand, on which anopal was flashing a moment before. The stone was still there, in thegold band on his finger; but it was no longer an opal, but somethingblack as jet, devoid of all lustre.
Startled by the movement, D'Amboise bent over the extended fingers,and I followed his example. The red on the cardinal's cheek went out,and his lips paled as he looked at the ring.
"Poison! Heart of Jesus!" he muttered through pale lips.
"Yes," said Machiavelli, slowly, withdrawing his hand, "the ring tellsno lies. _Diavolo!_ Was ever so grim a jest? Asking you to tell him ifyour eminence liked the wine!"
It was too near a matter to be pleasant, and the hideous jest, and thetreachery of Alexander, filled me with a hot anger. It had the effecthowever of pulling me together at once, the sudden presence of death,and the danger, recalling me to myself, for all my thoughts ofAngiola. I breathed a prayer of thanks for our escape. It was a goodomen. My luck was not yet run out.
D'Amboise sprang to his feet. "By God!" he said, bringing his clenchedfist into the palm of his hand, "the Borgia will rue this day; here,give me those glasses." He seized them, and drawing back the curtainsflung them out of the window, where they fell into the court outside,breaking to splinters with a little tinkling crash. Then he emptiedout the contents of the flagon, and hurled it into the grate where itlay, its fine work crushed and dented, the two emerald eyes of thedragon on the stopper blinking at us wickedly. This outburst madeD'Amboise calmer, and it was with more composure that he struck asmall gong, and reseated himself at the table. As he did so Burinentered the room.
"We want a clear table," said the cardinal, "remove these things, andhand me that map."
By the time Burin had done this, his eminence showed no further traceof excitement, except that his lips were very firmly set, and therewas a slight frown on his forehead as he smoothed out the roll of themap. One corner kept obstinately turning up, and as Machiavelliquietly put his hand on it to keep it in position, he said, "See! Thering is as it was before."
We looked at the opal, and sure enough the poison-tint was gone, andunder the pale, semi-opaque blue of its surface, lights of red, ofgreen, and of orange, flitted to and fro.
"It is wonderful," I said, and D'Amboise smiled grimly to himself. Thecardinal placed his finger on the map, where the port of Sinigagliawas marked.
"Is it here he lands?"
"Yes," replied Machiavelli, "and then straight to Rome."
"You have sure information?"
"Yes."
"Then will your excellency instruct M. Donati? As arranged, I pledgean immediate movement on the part of Tremouille, at the first sign ofsuccess."
"You have agreed, cavaliere, to undertake the task?" and the secretaryturned to me.
"I have, your excellency."
Machiavelli then went on, speaking incisively, wasting no words. "Inten days or thereabouts from now, Monsignore Bozardo, the Papal envoyto the Grand Turk, will land at Sinigaglia and start for Rome. Hebrings with him a letter and a sum of money, forty thousand ducats.These are for his holiness. Bozardo and the letter may reach, if youlike; the ducats must not."
"Where are they to go?"
"To the Duke de la Tremouille."
"I follow."
"Understand that you take this venture at your own risk."
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I saw what he meant, if I failed I was to be sacrificed, and my mindwas made up. I would accept, with a condition.
"I quite understand--there is one thing."
"What?"
"Ten days is a wide margin. I will stop Bozardo or die; but I proposeeffecting the release of the Lady Angiola as well."
A glad look came into Machiavelli's eyes; but the cardinal flashedout--
"_Nom du diable!_ What grasshopper have you got in your head? Leavethe demoiselle to us. You cannot do two things at once."
"Then with respect to your eminence I decline the affair of theducats."
D'Amboise looked at me in sheer amazement.
"You decline--you dare;" but Machiavelli interposed.
"A moment, your eminence. Can we get another agent?"
"Not now; it is too late now."
"And we have no money for active measures?"
"Not a livre."
"It seems to me that the cavaliere has us in his hands, and we hadbetter agree. After all he only risks his head twice, instead ofonce."
D'Amboise bit his lip, and with a frown began to drum on the tablewith his fingers. I sat silent but resolved, and Machiavelli, rising,went to the writing table, pulling out from his vest a parchment. Inthis he rapidly wrote something, and dusting it over with dryingpowder held it to the flame of a candle. Then he turned backleisurely, and, as he resumed his seat, handed me the paper.
"I have just filled in your name on this blank safe-conduct throughthe Papal States. I took the precaution of obtaining this from Sforzato-day. When can you start?"
"Now, your excellency," and I put the safe-conduct securely by.
"I suppose I must agree," said the cardinal suddenly. "If it fails,all is lost; if it succeeds----"
"There will probably be a new Conclave, your eminence," saidMachiavelli.
D'Amboise's forehead flushed dark at the hidden meaning in theFlorentine's words. But we all knew that the chair of St. Peter wasever before his eyes; and for this he schemed and saved, althoughprofuse in his habits. George of Amboise never gained his desire; butwhen he died he left a fortune of eleven millions. This however wasyet to be.
I had already arisen to take my leave as Machiavelli spoke, and thecardinal, taking no notice of his last remark, turned to me, withsomething of his old good temper. Perhaps the hint of Florentinesupport at the next papal election was not without its softeningeffect.
"Did I understand you to say you were ready to start at once,cavaliere?"
"Yes, your eminence."
"Then let me wish you good fortune--adieu!"
"Your eminence has my grateful thanks."
I bowed to D'Amboise and the secretary, and withdrew; but as the doorswung behind me, I heard Machiavelli's voice.
"The air of Rome does not suit me, your eminence. No, thanks. No moreFalernian."
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