CHAPTER XXIV. THE INTERRUPTED MASS
The morning of that Wednesday of Corpus Christi, fateful to allconcerned in this chronicle, dawned misty and grey, and the air waschilled by the wind that blew from the sea. The chapel bell tinkled outits summons, and the garrison trooped faithfully to Mass.
Presently came Monna Valentina, followed by her ladies, her pages, andlastly, Peppe, wearing under his thin mask of piety an air of eageranxiety and unrest. Valentina was very pale, and round her eyes therewere dark circles that told of sleeplessness, and as she bowed herhead in prayer, her ladies observed that tears were falling on theilluminated Mass-book over which she bent. And now came Fra Domenicofrom the sacristy in the white chasuble that the Church ordains for theCorpus Christi feast, followed by a page in a clerkly gown of black, andthe Mass commenced.
There were absent only from the gathering Gonzaga and Fortemani, besidesa sentry and the three prisoners. Francesco and his two followers.
Gonzaga had presented himself to Valentina with the plausible tale that,as the events of which Fanfulla's letter had given them knowledge mightlead Gian Maria at any moment to desperate measures, it might be wellthat he should reinforce the single man-at-arms patrolling the walls.Valentina, little recking now whether the castle held or fell, and stillless such trifles as Gonzaga's attendance at Mass, had assented withoutheeding the import of what he said.
And so, his face drawn and his body quivering with the excitement ofwhat he was about to do, Gonzaga had repaired to the ramparts so soonas he had seen them all safely into chapel. The sentinel was that sameclerkly youth Aventano, who had read to the soldiers that letter GianMaria had sent Gonzaga. This the courtier accepted as a good omen. If aman there was among the soldiery at Roccaleone with whom he deemed thathe had an account to settle, that man was Aventano.
The mist was rapidly lightening, and the country grew visible for milesaround. In the camp of Gian Maria he observed a coming and going of menthat argued an inordinate bustle for so early an hour. They awaited hissignal.
He approached the young sentinel, growing more and more nervous as thetime for action advanced. He cursed Fortemani, who had selfishly refusedto take an active part in the admission of Gian Maria. Here was a taskthat Fortemani could perform more satisfactorily than he. He had urgedthis fact on Ercole's attention, but the swashbuckler had grinned andshook his head. To Gonzaga fell the greater reward, and so Gonzaga mustdo the greater work. It was only fair, the knave had urged; andwhile Gonzaga was about it, he would watch the chapel door againstinterruption. And so Gonzaga had been forced to come alone to tryconclusions with the sentry.
He gave the young man a nervous but pleasant "Good-morrow," and observedwith satisfaction that he wore no body armour. His original intentionhad been to attempt to suborn him, and render him pliable by bribery;but now that the moment for action was arrived he dared not make theoffer. He lacked for words in which to present his proposal, and he wasafraid lest the man should resent it, and in a fit of indignationattack him with his partisan. He little imagined that Aventano had beenforewarned by Ercole that a bribe would be offered him and that hewas to accept it promptly. Ercole had chosen this man because he wasintelligent, and had made him understand enough of what was toward,besides offering a substantial reward if he played his part well, andAventano waited. But Gonzaga, knowing naught of this, abandoned at thelast moment the notion of bribing him--which Ercole had enjoined him,and which he in his turn had promised Ercole was the course he wouldpursue.
"You seem cold, Excellency," said the young man deferentially, for hehad observed that Gonzaga shivered.
"A chill morning, Aventano," returned the gallant, with a grin.
"True; but the sun is breaking through yonder. It will be warmer soon."
"Why, yes," answered the other abstractedly, and still he remained bythe sentinel, his hand, under the gay mantle of blue velvet, nervouslyfingering the hilt of a dagger that he dared not draw. It came to himthat moments were passing, and that the thing must be done. Yet Aventanowas a sinewy youth, and if the sudden stab he meditated failed him, hewould be at the fellow's mercy. At the thought he shivered again, andhis face turned grey. He moved away a step, and then inspiration broughthim a cruel ruse. He uttered a cry.
"What is that?" he exclaimed, his eyes on the ground.
In an instant Aventano was beside him, for his voice had soundedalarmed--a tone, in his present condition, not difficult to simulate.
"What, Excellency?"
"Down there," cried Gonzaga excitedly. "There from that fissure in thestone. Saw you nothing?" And he pointed to the ground at a spot wheretwo slabs met.
"I saw nothing, Illustrious."
"It was like a flash of yellow light below there. What is under us here?I'll swear there's treachery at work. Get down on your knees, and try ifanything is to be seen."
With a wondering glance at the courtier's white, twitching face, theunfortunate young man went down on all fours to do his bidding. Afterall--poor fellow!--he was hardly intelligent as Fortemani opined.
"There is nothing, Excellency," he said. "The plaster is cracked.But---- Ah!"
In a panic of haste Gonzaga had whipped the dagger from its sheath andsunk it into the middle of Aventano's broad back. The fellow's arms slidout, and with a long-drawn, gurgling sigh he sank down and stretchedhimself horribly on the stones.
In that instant the clouds parted overhead and the sun came out in ablaze of golden glory. High above Gonzaga's head a lark burst into song.
For a moment the assassin remained standing above the body of his victimwith head sunk between the shoulders like a man who expects a blow, hisface grey, his teeth chattering, and his mouth twitching hideously. Ashudder shook him. It was the first life he had taken, and that carrionat his feet filled him with sickly horror. Not for a kingdom--notto save his vile soul from the eternal damnation that act had earnedit--would he have dared stoop to pluck the dagger from the back of thewretch he had murdered. With something like a scream he turned, and fledin a panic from the spot. Panting with horror, yet subconsciously awareof the work he had to do, he paused a moment to wave a kerchief, thendashed down the steps to the postern.
With trembling fingers he unlocked the door and set it wide to GianMaria's men, who, in answer to his signal, were now hurrying forwardwith a bridge composed of pine trees, that they had hastily and roughlyput together during the previous day. This, with some efforts and morenoise than Gonzaga relished, was thrust across the moat. One of the mencrept across, and assisted Gonzaga to make fast his end.
A moment later Gian Maria and Guidobaldo stood in the castle-yard, andafter them came almost every man of the five score that Gian Maria hadbrought to that siege. This was what Francesco had confidently expected,knowing that it was not his cousin's way to run any risks.
The Duke of Babbiauo, whose face was disfigured by a bristling hedge ofreddish stubble--for in obedience to the vow he had made, he now carrieda fortnight's growth of beard on his round face--turned to Gonzaga.
"Is all well?" he asked, in a friendly tone, whilst Guidobaldocontemptuously eyed the popinjay.
Gonzaga assured them that the whole thing had been effected withoutdisturbing the garrison at their prayers. Now that he deemed himselfwell protected his usual serenity of manner returned.
"You may felicitate yourself, Highness," he ventured to say, with agrin, to Guidobaldo, "that you have reared your niece in devout ways."
"Did you address me?" quoth the Duke of Urbino coldly. "I trust it maynot again be necessary."
Before the look of loathing in his handsome face Gonzaga cringed. GianMaria laughed in his piping treble.
"Have I not served your Highness faithfully?" fawned the gallant.
"So has the meanest scullion in my kitchens, the lowliest groom in mystables--and with more honour to himself," answered the proud Duke. "Yethe does not go the length of jesting with me." His eye carried a menaceso eloquent that Gonzaga drew back, afraid; but Gian Maria clapped h
imon the shoulder in a friendly manner.
"Be of good heart, Judas," he laughed, his pale face a-grin, "I shallfind room for you in Babbiano, and work too, if you do it as well asthis. Come; the men are here now. Let us go forward whilst they are attheir prayers. But we must not disturb them," he added, more seriously."I will not be guilty of an impiety. We can lie in wait for themwithout."
He laughed gaily, for he seemed in a preposterously good humour, andbidding Gonzaga lead the way he followed, with Guidobaldo at his side.They crossed the courtyard, where his men were ranged, armed to theteeth, and at the door of the archway leading to the inner court theypaused for Gonzaga to open it.
A moment the gallant stood staring. Then he turned a face ofconsternation on the Dukes. His knees shook visibly.
"It is locked," he announced, in a husky voice.
"We made too much noise in entering," suggested Guidobaldo, "and theyhave taken the alarm."
The explanation relieved the growing uneasiness in Gian Maria's mind. Heturned with an oath to his men.
"Here, some of you," his sharp voice commanded. "Beat me down this door.By the Host! Do the fools think to keep me out so easily?"
The door was broken down, and they advanced. But only some half-dozenpaces, for at the end of that short gallery they found the seconddoor barring their progress. Through this, too, they broke, Gian Mariafiercely blaspheming at the delay. Yet when it was done he was none soeager to lead the way.
In the second courtyard he deemed it extremely probable that they shouldfind Valentina's soldiers awaiting them. So bidding his men pass on, heremained behind with Guidobaldo until he heard word that the inner courtwas likewise empty.
And now the entire hundred of his followers were assembled thereto overpower the twenty that served Monna Valentina; andGuidobaldo--despite Gian Maria's scruples--strode coolly forward to thechapel door.
* * * * *
Within the chapel Mass had started. Fra Domenico at the foot of thealtar had pattered through the Confiteor, his deep voice responded toby the soprano of the ministering page. The Kyrie was being uttered whenthe attention of the congregation was attracted by the sound of stepsapproaching the chapel door to the accompaniment of an ominous clank ofsteel. The men rose in a body, fearing treachery, and cursing--despitethe sanctity of the place--the circumstance that they were withoutweapons.
Then the door opened, and down the steps rang the armed heels of thenew-comers, so that every eye was turned upon them, including thatof Fra Domenico, who had pronounced the last "Christe eleison" in aquavering voice.
A gasp of relief, followed by an angry cry from Valentina, went up whenthey recognised those that came. First stepped the Count of Aquila infull armour, sword at side and dagger on hip, carrying his head-piece onthe crook of his left arm. Behind him towered the bulk of Fortemani, hisgreat face flushed with a strange excitement, a leather hacketon overhis steel cuirass, girt, too, with sword and dagger, and carrying hisshining morion in his hand. Last came Lanciotto and Zaccaria, both fullyequipped and armed at all points.
"Who are you that come thus accoutred into God's House to interrupt theholy Mass?" cried the bass voice of the friar.
"Patience, good father," answered Francesco calmly, "The occasion is ourjustification."
"What does this mean, Fortemani?" demanded Valentina imperiously, hereyes angrily set upon her captain, utterly ignoring the Count. "Do youbetray me too?"
"It means, Madonna," answered the giant bluntly, "that your lap-dog,Messer Gonzaga, is at this very moment admitting Gian Maria and hisforces to Roccaleone, by the postern."
There was a hoarse cry from the men, which Francesco silenced by a waveof his mailed hand.
Valentina looked wildly at Fortemani, and then, as if drawn by a greaterwill than her own, her eyes were forced to travel to the Count. Heinstantly advanced, and bowed his head before her.
"Madonna, this is no hour for explanations. Action is needed, and thatat once. I was wrong in not disclosing my identity to you before youdiscovered it by such unfortunate means and with the assistance of theonly traitor Roccaleone has harboured, Romeo Gonzaga--who, as Fortemanihas just told you, is at this moment admitting my cousin and your uncleto the castle. But that my object was ever other than to serve you, orthat I sought, as was represented to you, to turn this siege to my ownpolitical profit, that, Madonna, I implore you in your own interests tobelieve untrue."
She sank on to her knees and with folded hands began to pray to theMother of Mercy, deeming herself lost, for his tone carried conviction,and he had said that Gian Maria was entering the castle.
"Madonna," he cried, touching her lightly on the shoulder; "let yourprayers wait until they can be of thanksgiving. Listen. By the vigilanceof Peppe there, who, good soul that he is, never lost faith in me ordeemed me a dastard, we were informed last night--Fortemani and I--ofthis that Gonzaga was preparing. And we have made our plans and preparedthe ground. When Gian Maria's soldiers enter, they will find the outerdoors barred and locked, and we shall gain a little time while theybreak through them. My men, as you will observe, are even now barringthe door of the chapel to impose a further obstacle. Now while they arethus engaged we must act. Briefly, then, if you will trust us we willbear you out of this, for we four have worked through the night to somepurpose."
She looked at him through a film of tears, her face drawn andstartled. Then she put her hands to her brow in a gesture of bewilderedhelplessness.
"But they will follow us," she complained.
"Not so," he answered, smiling. "For that, too, have we provided. Come,Madonna, time presses."
A long moment she looked at him. Then brushing aside the tears thatdimmed her sight, she set a hand on either of his shoulders, and stoodso, before them all, gazing up into his calm face.
"How shall I know that what you say is true--that I may trust you?"she asked, but her voice was not the voice of one that demands anoverwhelming proof ere she will believe.
"By my honour and my knighthood," he answered, in a ringing voice, "Imake oath here, at the foot of God's altar, that my purpose--my onlypurpose--has been, is, and shall be to serve you, Monna Valentina."
"I believe you," she cried; to sob a moment later:
"Forgive me, Francesco, and may God, too, forgive my lack of faith inyou."
He softly breathed her name in such sweet accents that a happy peacepervaded her, and the bright courage of yore shone in her brown eyes.
"Come, sirs!" he cried now, with a sudden briskness that startled theminto feverish obedience. "You, Fra Domenico, cut off your sacerdotals,and gird high your habit. There is climbing for you. Here, a couple ofyou, move aside that altar-step. My men and I have spent the night inloosening its old hinges."
They raised the slab, and in the gap beneath it was disclosed a flightof steps leading down to the dungeons and cellars of Roccaleone.
Down this they went in haste but in good order, marshalled by Francesco,and when the last had passed down, he and Lanciotto, aided by othersbelow, who had seized a rope that he had lowered them, replaced the slabfrom underneath, so that no trace should remain of the way by which theyhad come.
A postern had been unbarred below by Fortemani, who had led the way witha half-dozen of the men; and a huge scaling ladder that lay in readinessin that subterranean gallery was rushed out across the moat, which atthis point was a roaring torrent.
Fortemani was the first to descend that sloping bridge, and uponreaching the ground he made fast the lower end.
Next went a dozen men at Francesco's bidding, armed with the pikesthat had been left overnight in the gallery. At a word of command theyslipped quietly away. Then came the women, and lastly, the remainder ofthe men.
Of the enemy they caught no glimpse; not so much as a sentry, for everyone of Gian Maria's men had been pressed into the investment of thecastle. Thus they emerged from Roccaleone, and made their way down thatrough bridge into the pleasant meadows to the south. Alr
eady Fortemaniand his dozen men had disappeared at the trot, making for the front ofthe castle, when Francesco stepped last upon the bridge, and closed thepostern after him. Then he glided rapidly to the ground, and with theassistance of a dozen ready hands he dragged away the scaling ladder.They carried it some yards from the brink of the torrent, and depositedit in the meadow. With a laugh of purest relish Francesco stepped toValentina's side.
"It will exercise their minds to discover how we got out," he cried,"and they will be forced to the conclusion that we are angels all, withwings beneath our armour. We have not left them a single ladder or astrand of rope in Roccaleone by which to attempt to follow us, even ifthey discover how we came. But come, Valentina mia, the comedy is notfinished yet. Already Fortemani will have removed the bridge by whichthey entered and engaged such few men as may have been left behind, andwe have the High and Mighty Gian Maria in the tightest trap that wasever fashioned."
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