I tried every possible means I could think of to obtain employment, to no avail, and, in the intervals of my fruitless search for work, haunted the streets and gardens, with the hope of obtaining another glimpse of Angiola, but without any success. Inch by inch my resources diminished, until they became so small that a blind beggar would have hardly thanked me for the gift of them. I lived in constant dread of Ceci reappearing to demand the sum I owed for my rent, but he did not come. He was evidently giving me time, starving me out to surrender to his terms. I used to see him as I went in and out, sitting in his office like a spider, yet he never even lifted his head as I passed. I hated, almost feared, going by that door. Bitterly did I regret not having left Florence when I was able. It was now impossible to do so, unless as a defaulter, and the weight of that paltry debt oppressed me, as if a cannon-ball were slung around my neck. I could not leave until I paid it, and of doing this there seemed no prospect. I had parted with my cloak for money to buy food, but the last copper of that was gone, and I was now penniless. For two days I had not eaten anything but a morsel of bread, and on the morning of the third day I rose desperate with hunger, and prepared to go any lengths to satisfy it. I ate my self-esteem and made another attempt to see La Palisse, but was denied admittance, and when I came back I actually hesitated before the door of Ceci's office, and almost made up my mind to yield, and say I would do his business for him. It required an effort, so low had I sunk, to rouse my pride. At last it flared up, and with a cheek hot at my weakness, I sought my chamber and there passed the day. The pigeons that lived under the eaves opposite my window, and to whose soft cooing I so often listened with pleasure before, now aroused other thoughts within me. If I could only lure one within reach! But it was impossible, and I glared at them as they fluttered and flirted with each other, with the hungry eyes of a cat baulked of her prey. At last I gave it up, and with a curse flung myself on my bed. Fool that I was! Five-and-thirty years should have brought me wisdom. I had stayed on in Florence, allowed my chances of revenge to get more distant, in fact, reached a stage of mind when I was doubtful if I could rightly exact vengeance, drifted into abject poverty, and worse than that, was continually thinking of a woman, who, when I had rendered her a service, treated me with contempt, who had no doubt forgotten me by this time, amidst her duties, if she had any, and her pleasures, of which I doubt not she had store. So the evening came amidst my reflections and self-reproaches, and, it being dusk, I decided to go forth again, and snatch a purse, if necessary, to obtain food. As I rose, an impulse I could not control made me unfasten my money-belt, and search if by chance there was a coin within it. Of course there was not a brown copper, but my fingers, in running up the belt, touched something hard, and I pulled forth, attached to its tag of red ribbon, my cross of St. Lazare, which, it will be remembered, I had placed therein for safety the night I was imprisoned in the Villa Accolti. I had clean forgot it in my troubles, and now it lay in my open palm, with the diamonds in it winking in my face. My whole frame trembled with excitement. Here was the means of freeing myself from debt at once, and of obtaining funds to quit Florence, nay Europe. At the lowest computation its worth could have been no less than forty crowns, and this at present was wealth to me. What with the effects of the want of food, and the sudden discovery of the cross, I began to feel weak all over, and flinging the badge on the table, sank down into a chair before it to compose myself. The room was almost dark, and I sat staring at the jewels and at the diamonds on it, which sparkled through the gloom. That little trinket was linked with the one great event of my life. All the past came vividly before my excited brain. I was again in that desperate retreat of Charles of France up the valley of the Taro, with the army of the League in full cry behind us. The old boar Trevulzio commanded the rear guard, disputed every inch of the road, and now and again stood boldly at bay, and gave a taste of his tusks to the Duke of Bari, and the fine gentlemen of Venice. It was at this moment that Roderigo Gonsaga made his dash for the heights above the junction of the Ceno and the Taro. Trevulzio saw the movement; he was powerless to help, and knew that if it succeeded all was lost. At the time I was at his bridle hand.
"Ride for your life," he said, "and tell the king--that." He pointed to the black line of the infantry of Spain moving towards the heights. I was off at once, waiting no second bidding.
I found Charles mounted on Savoy, his one-eyed black charger, one of the finest horses I have ever seen. The king grasped the situation at a glance. He gave a sharp order, closed his vizor with a snap, and in five minutes, a thousand lances followed him down the long slope, up which the Spaniards were advancing. It was an absolutely silent charge. Not a cheer went up, and the only sound was the thunder of the horses' hoofs, and the clink of mail as we sped on after the king. Then there was a sullen crash, and a sea of struggling men and horses. The veteran troops of the Great Captain maintained their high reputation, fighting like dragons to the end.
Charles, whose horse had carried him far in advance of us all, was in great danger. His helmet had fallen or been struck off, and he was recognised. Gonsaga, seeing all was lost, made a despairing rush at the king with a half-dozen men at his back, and had it not been for the way Savoy kicked and plunged, would have surely slain him. Urging my horse to its utmost speed, I reached Charles just in time to ward off a furious blow aimed by the Spaniard at the king, and fading full tilt against him, brought down both horse and man. The next moment others came up, and we were safe. Philip de Comines reproached the king respectfully for running himself into peril; but Charles, wiping his sword on the mane of his charger, said with a laugh:
"All is well that ends well, my Lord of Argenton; but it is thanks to this good sword here," and he turned to me, "that our cousin of Orleans must exercise his patience yet a little longer. Come closer, sir."
I dismounted and approached helmet in hand. The king detached the Cross of St. Lazare he wore, and bending from the saddle, slipped the loop of the ribbon round my neck.
"Wear this for the sake of France," he said with a gracious smile.
And now the patience of Orleans had come to its end, and Louis XII. was king, and of my hopes and dreams, all that remained was the cross of the order blinking at me.
It had to go, and there was no help for it. With an effort I rose and, thrusting the cross into my pocket, hurried into the street. My way led to the ward of San Spirito, and it took me some little time to reach the place where I meant to dispose of the jewel. When I reached it, I was so overcome with weakness that I had to halt for a moment to rest. It was during that halt, that hesitation of a minute, that my courage came back to me, and I pulled forth the cross and held it in my cold fingers with a heart tossed by conflicting emotions. I could not do it. Death would be preferable. Well, I had faced death before, and there was no reason why I should not do so again with an equal mind. The Arno was deep enough to hold me, and God would perhaps be kinder in the next world than in this. I placed the cross back slowly, my honour was still white, and death that was coming would give me a full quittance for all my troubles. I turned my back on the pawnbroker's, and went towards the Arno; but I had miscalculated my strength, and near Santa Felicita I felt a sudden giddiness and sank downwards on the pavement. I struggled to rise, but the faintness increased, and dragging myself close to the wall I leaned against it in a sitting posture, and a kind of stupor fell upon me, through which I still felt the intolerable pangs of hunger. In a little time I felt better, and as I saw the flash of torches, and heard voices in laughing conversation, I made an effort to rise, gaining my feet just as two ladies, with their attendants, came opposite to me, and then I staggered back again.
"Poor man! He is hurt."
"I am starving," I said in the bitterness of my agony, and the next moment could have killed myself, for I recognised the ladies whom I had rescued from Luigi in the Garden of St. Michael. I had my desire and had seen her again; but how?
Madonna Angiola made a hurried search for her purse, and not finding it, with a hasty movement tore something off a bracelet, and thrust it into my hand. Before I could recover from my astonishment they had gone on, and although I called after them, they did not stop. The shame of having received charity, and from her, was all but unbearable; but with it I felt the hand of hunger knocking at me in a manner that would take no denial. My courage was gone, and urged by the fierce pangs of my hunger, I resolved to utilise the gift, and obtain some food to give me strength to die. I smile as I think of this now. Then it was no laughing matter. I plucked myself up sufficiently to go back to the pawnshop. Entering it, I placed the article, which I judged to be a jewel, but which I had not even examined, before the man in attendance, and asked for an advance thereon.
"It is one of the gold tari of Amain," he said, poising it on his finger, "and of full weight. Do you wish to sell it?"
"No," I replied, "I merely wish to pledge it."
"I will give you two crowns," he pushed the money to me, and with it a receipt. I gathered these up, and staggered rather than walked to the Marzocco Inn, which lay hard by. There were half-a-dozen people supping there; but I had no eyes for them, all I could think of was the pasty, the roll of white bread, and the ruby Chianti, which I ordered. It is a common belief, that those who have not eaten food for any length of time, are unable to do so when it is placed before them at first. Whether I am constitutionally stronger than the generality of men, I do not know, all I can say is, that I formed an exception to the rule, if a true one, and demolished my supper, gaining strength with every mouthful, and feeling my chilled blood warmer with every drop I drank of my goblet of wine, My courage came back to me, and I banished all thoughts of the Arno. At last I was done, and leaning back in my seat, viewed with complacency the huge orifice I had made in a most excellent pasty, and the whiles slowly sipped my wine. That feeling of sleepy comfort, which attends like a good angel on a full meal, possessed me, my sorrows had for the moment taken themselves off, and I grieve to say I did not even bestow a thought on her, to whose charity I was indebted practically for my life. I sat for the moment, lapped in a dreamy comfort, forgetful of all things. I dozed for about half an hour, and opened my eyes with my head clear again, and my pulse beating firmly. I had, somewhat recklessly, it is true, enjoyed a crown's worth of happiness, there was another fat crown still in my pouch; with care it would last some days, and during that time luck might turn. With these thoughts running in my head, I let my eyes wander over the room. It was now somewhat late, and only the night-birds were left. Of these, a party of five was seated at a table a little removed from me, and were conversing in low tones. It needed but a glance to see they were not honest men, and from the suspicious manner in which they looked around them, I gathered they were here for no good purpose. One of the party rested his eyes on me, and then whispered to a companion, who was seated with his face from me. I caught the answer, which was given in somewhat loud tones. "Even if he does, what does it matter? Cannot a few gentlemen enjoy a glass in peace at their ordinary? If he gives trouble we can quiet him."
Could it be? Yes, it was no other than the ancient Brico, who had, I perceived, got out of the clutches of his friends, the catchpolls of Montevarchi. I made certain, therefore, I would have business shortly, and leaning back again, pretended to doze, keeping my ears very wide open, and holding a watch on the scoundrels from the tail of my eye.
"He tarries late," said one, "perhaps your information is wrong."
"I have it from a sure hand, from the younger Ceci. Buonoccorsi and he will both be here. The former, however, as you know, we do not want."
I almost started at these words. Was it possible that I had stumbled on the bravos who were engaged in Ceci's plot? If so, stranger thing never happened to me, and chance was probably throwing in my way what otherwise I would never have been able to discover. Even as the last speaker finished his sentence, two persons, evidently of consequence, and a woman entered the inn, and set themselves down at a table close to mine. The men both wore masks, but the lady did not, and let her glance run with a free look on us all. One of her two companions, a very stout man, put down his mask, disclosing a jolly rubicund face, and roared out for a flagon of wine. The other, still keeping his features covered, engaged in lively badinage with his fair friend, and as he moved his hand slightly, I caught the flash of a valuable ring.
The five at the table all had their heads together now, and I saw the one nearest to me stealthily draw his sword. With an apparently careless movement I so placed my own weapon as to be at hand on the moment. Presently Brico arose, and swaggering across the room with a glass in his hand, deliberately stopped before the lady, and drained it to her health. She laughed back her appreciation, and Brico called out, "Blood of a King! Madonna, but you waste yourself with His Corpulence there," and he jerked his hand towards the stout man, who sat speechless, his cheeks purple with rage. "Come and join us good fellows here," he added, and attempted to pass his arm around her waist; but the masked stranger flashed out his rapier, and Brico only escaped being skewered by an agile retreat. This was, however, the signal for an instant assault, and with a shout of "A Medici--palle--palle," those at the table rushed on the smaller party. As they rose, I jumped up, and pushed my table with great violence in their direction. Two of the men fell over it, and this gave me time to draw my sword and join the weaker party. The lady rushed out with a scream, and the stout gentleman bellowing lustily for help followed suit, and made his exit, no attempt being made to hinder him, the attack being solely directed against the masked man, who with his back to the wall, and the table between himself and his assailants, defended himself with great spirit and skill.
Slashing one of the ruffians across the face, which put him out of the fight, I ranged alongside of the stranger, and a very pretty set-to ensued. At this juncture the innkeeper entered with half-a-dozen others, and kept dancing about, adjuring us to stop, but offering no help. I made for Brico, but could not reach him, having to engage with a better swordsman than I had met for many a day; but I saw we were now three to two, for the ancient was more bent on executing flourishes with his sword, and in cheering on the attack, than on real business. My opponent was a left-handed man, so anything like a time-thrust was out of the question. He played the usual game of left-handed men, namely, a cut over, and disengagement in tierce, but remising, I forced him to a straight riposte, and pinked him through the ribs. He fell with a howl, just as my companion ran his man through. We were now two to two, if Brico was included, but the others waited for no more and fled, no attempt being made to stay them by the host. The innkeeper, however, began to make a great to-do; but the stranger thrust his purse in his hand, and lifting his mask spoke a few words in mine host's ear. The effect was magical, and the padrone was now all civility. We had a look at the two men who were down, the one who was slashed across the face being nowhere to be seen. They were both quite dead, and an ill-looking pair of corpses did they make.
"Have these carrion removed, padrone--and beware how you say a word of what has happened, signore," and the masked man held his hand out to me, "I thank you heartily, and you will find I have a long memory. Do me the favour to accompany me to my house."
I had no reason to refuse, and bowing my acknowledgments, we left the inn.
As we reached the street, I expressed the hope that the lady and her stout companion were in safety. The stranger laughed: "Oh, Buonoccorsi, he and La Sirani are no doubt shivering in security by this time; but let us hasten, for although we have barely more than a couple of cross-bow shots to go, our bravos may return and have better luck. St. John! but it was a narrow affair."
Our way led back by Santa Felicita, past the Ponte Vecchio, and at length we came to a halt before a small side door, let into, what seemed to me, nothing but a vast blank wall. My new friend opened this door noiselessly, with a key he drew from his pocket, and invited me to enter. Pleading ignorance of the way, however, I gave him the pass, and followed him up a narrow and very dark stairway, which opened into a long gallery, likewise in semidarkness. Up this gallery we went, then there was another small passage, and lifting a curtain at the end of this, we stepped past an open door into a large room, evidently a study, for it was filled with books all but the side near the passage, which was covered by a heavy tapestry. In the middle of the room was a large table, littered with papers in much confusion, and eight tall candles burning in a pair of grotesque candelabra, threw a bright but soft light over the chamber.
"Sit you down there," said my host, pointing to a chair, "and we will have something to drink.Diavolo!You are wounded! Why did you not say?"
I looked at my left arm, and sure enough the coat-sleeve was red, with an enlargening patch. It was only a trifle, however, as we found on examination; but my companion, who still kept his mask on, insisted on bandaging it, which he did with deft fingers, and then turning to a curiously inlaid cabinet let into the wall, brought thenceforth a flagon of green crystal and two long-stemmed Venetian glasses.
Whilst he was thus engaged my eyes rested on a book on the table, and I saw at a glance that it was the copy of Plutarch's Lives which Ceci had lent me on payment, so that it was most probable that I was in the presence of the noble, against whom the Medici plot was directed, and in whose library the intendant's nephew was employed, partly I guessed as a spy. My hand was on the book as my host placed the glasses on the table, and observing the movement, he said with a smile:
"I see, Signore, you not only carry a sharp sword; but know a book as well."
"As for books, Signore," I answered, "I know but little of them. This one, however, I thought I had seen before."
"Indeed," he said, "that is odd, for I believe this is the only rendering of Plutarch into Italian which is in existence. Strange, too, as for over a week I could not find it anywhere."
"Very," I answered shortly, and my host, pouring out a glass for me, helped himself, and settling comfortably in a chair opposite to me, slowly removed his mask and laid it aside. I saw before me, a man in the prime of life, of middle height and slender figure, with however a great dignity of carriage. His head, covered with short dark hair, was small, but well-shaped, his dark eyes sparkled with intelligence, and a slightly aquiline nose curved over a pair of thin, sarcastic lips, which were however now smiling at me with as much good-humour as they could express.
"Books," he said, "are the delight of my life, without them all would be stale. Here," and he held up a volume, "is a priceless treasure. It is a manuscript copy of Cicero's De Gloria. I obtained it from my friend, poor Angelo Poliziano."
"I am afraid," I said, "I could only look at it, for I have not studied the ancients."
He laid down the book: "Of a truth, men were giants in those days--but hark! That is too loud for a rat." At this moment we heard a distinct rustling behind the tapestry, which hung on one side of the wall. My host sprang up, and with his drawn rapier in his hand, lifted the arras. I followed him; but we observed nothing but a door, which was concealed behind the curtain. "This is a private door leading to the corridor, and confound it--it is open. How the devil did this happen? However, this will make things sure." He turned the key which was in the lock, and removing it, placed it carefully aside in a drawer, and his face was shaded a little with anxiety. This however he brushed off like a fly, and resuming our seats, he poured out some more wine for both of us, and said:
"Signore, now that I observe you closely, it appears to me that your sword, good as it is, has not helped you to fill your purse."
"It was able to save your life, Messer--I know not your name," I answered with a little heat, and rose as if to take my leave. He laughed cheerfully, and putting his hand on my shoulder, pressed me back into my chair.
"Sit down, signore, I meant no offence, and my name is Niccolo Machiavelli. Will you give me yours in return?"
I was then before the Secretary of the Council of Ten, the crafty politician who at that time held Florence in his hand, and with whose name all Italy was full. I now understood Ceci's plot at once, but the question was, should I give my right name? Sooner or later the Secretary would find out, and I accordingly answered him as honestly as possible.
"I pass under the name of Donati, your excellency, will that do?"
He leaned back reflectively. "I like confidence when I give it," he said, "and yet perhaps it does not matter. You had no idea who I was when you helped me?" he added with a quick look.
"Not in the slightest." I did not feel justified in adding more.
"Well, Signore Donati, I have work for which I want a brave man, and if you care to accept it, I offer it to you."
"Your excellency, I will plainly say that I hardly know where to turn for employment, in fact, I am in such straits that I cannot afford to look for a hair in any egg that may fall my way; at the same time your business must be such as I can take with honour."
"With honour of course," he smiled sarcastically, and then added, "I suppose I can trust you?"
"You need not give me the employment, signore, if you do not think you can trust me--and pardon me--it is getting late."
"Sit down, man, I did but try you, and you are the man I want. Where do you lodge?"
"In the Albizzi Palace, in the street di Pucci."
"Could you leave Florence at a moment's notice?"
"It is a matter of funds."
"They will be provided."
"Then, yes."
"Enough! To-morrow a man will call on you, precisely at noontide, with a letter. I want that letter delivered into the hands of the Cardinal of Rouen at Rome. It is a secret matter, and if you fail in it you may forfeit your life. If you succeed, his eminence will give you further occupation. Do you accept?"
"Yes."
As I said this we again heard the creaking noise, and Machiavelli jumped up as agilely as a panther, and sprung to the door behind the arras. It was open; but no one was there.
"Maldetto!" he exclaimed. "Signore, there are spies in my own house--help me to tear down this tapestry."
I did so, and in a few minutes we laid bare the side of the room, and piled the tapestry in a heap against a bookshelf.
"That is better," Machiavelli said, "you see--the spy, whoever he is, must have a master key. There is no use going into the passage after him; but for the present I fancy we are safe. I must have a bolt put on and keep a watch. To resume business however. You say you accept, and only need funds."
"Exactly so."
He pulled from a drawer a bag, which chinked with a pleasant sound to my ears.
"Here," he said, "are a hundred crowns. It is your fee for the task I set you."
"It is ample."
"And now, Messer--Donati--farewell! You will always find a friend in me. You know your way--I have left the side door open--and bear a loose sword."
"A word, your excellency."
"Say on."
"Prom what has happened to-night, I see plainly that the plotters against your life have friends very near you. If they failed this time they may not fail again. One of the men who made the attack to-night I recognised. He is called Brico, formerly an ancient, perhaps still so, in the army of Tremouille."
"I will attend to the Signor Brico."
"Yet a little more. If your excellency's movements are known it is probably from within your own house. I would keep an eye on your library scribe."
"Per Bacco!Signor Donati, but you know too much. I am more and more your debtor."
"The hundred crowns have repaid me," I replied as I took my departure, having said all I dared say of the plot without breaking my pledge of secrecy to Ceci.
Now it happened that as I gained the corridor, I saw in the dim light a figure retreating hastily before me; but with noiseless footsteps, and having in mind the strange attempt to play the spy on us, I made no doubt but that here was the culprit, and followed up. I saw the figure turn at the end of the corridor and enter another gallery, then another, and yet another, finally vanishing as it were against the wall. Owing to my not knowing the way properly, and to the semi-gloom, I was unable to follow fast enough to overtake the spy, who flitted before me like a ghost, but in a very human hurry. When at length I came up to the wall, I looked to see if there was a door of any kind; but could discern nothing, and was so astonished that for a moment I felt a little chilled, thinking that it may have been a spirit after all. Fortifying myself, however, with the thought that if it was a spirit, it seemed in no way anxious to meet me, I went to a closer examination, and saw by the moonlight that I was before a door, painted in exact imitation of the marble wall. This settled my doubts, and putting my shoulder to it, I made a trial, with all my strength, to force the passage, but in vain. I therefore gave up the matter, and turned to find my way back. This was, however, easier said than done. I could not find the gallery I wanted, and after groping about hopelessly for a little time, thought that I had best give a shout, which would no doubt summon some one to my aid. I was just about to carry this into execution, when, on further reflection, it struck me that I might be landed in other difficulties thereby, and that I might make another try to free myself, without bringing the house about my ears, and perhaps compromising the secretary, who had, I saw, an active and enterprising enemy under his own roof. So I stilled my tongue and made further exploration, with the result that I found myself before a stairway, that led to the floor below me, and determined to see where this would take me. Accordingly I descended as softly as possible, and arrived in a few steps at a small landing, covered by a carpet so thick, that I felt as if I was treading on the softest of moss. At the end of the landing, and opposite to me, was a half-opened door, the room inside being in light. Stepping noiselessly up to the door I peered in, and saw a chamber furnished with the utmost luxury, and apparently just vacated by its occupants. In a corner of the room stood a harp, lying on a table close to a low luxurious seat were some articles of dainty feminine embroidery; soft silken curtains shrouded the walls, and the ceiling was painted, apparently with some representation of the history of the house. A white marble figure of Cupid held out at arm's length a lamp, whose opal shade softened its bright light; and on a gilded triangle, set in an alcove, swung a blue and scarlet macaw--a rare Eastern bird--who, with his head tucked under his wing, slept in a position which would be intolerable torture to any other created thing except a bird. It was clear that I had invaded the private sitting-room of the ladies, or lady of the household; and I was about to beat a hasty retreat, when the screen of an inner room was swung aside, and I saw before me my two unknowns of the Garden of St. Michael, and the giver of the tari which had saved me from death. It was too late to go back now, as the sound of my feet on the marble stairs would certainly reach, and perhaps alarm them, tread I ever so softly; so I resolved to stay where I was until they retired again, and then go back. This I judged would be very shortly as it was late. I had not however sufficient experience then, of the lengths to which those nocturnal confidences, in which the fair sex indulge with each other, extend. In the meantime I could not but admire the graceful figures before me, and especially of her, who had given me the tari. Clad in a soft clinging robe, clasped by a jewel at her throat, and a silver girdle round her waist, with her pale proud features set in a mass of dark hair, she seemed to me an embodiment of pure womanhood, and I thought how lucky the man would be who could have such a companion to help him through life. I guessed also that the other was the wife of Machiavelli, being aided thereto by her statement, when I drove Luigi off, that her husband was one who could help me much. At the same time I could not but feel some pity in my heart for her, when I thought she was wedded to a man of a character so contradictory as that of the Secretary, who could leave a fair wife for the sake of indulging in low dissipation, and come back after a narrow escape with his life, to bury himself in matters of state, or in the perusal of the ancients. However there was no sign of sorrow on her fair and mirthful face, as with all the teasing nature of a kitten, she walked up to the macaw and stirred him up with her white fingers, an attention he did not appear to relish, for he ruffled his plume, and let forth an ear-piercing shriek.
"Heavens!" she laughed, "how that bird screams! He is almost as cross as you, Angiola."
"Thanks," replied the other; "I do sympathise with the bird though, for you never leave off teasing. It is enough to make a saint cross, Marietta."
"Well, I won't tease any more," and Marietta put her hand on her friend's shoulder. "I am sure though it was he, and I will have that last word."
I wondered to whom the reference was made, as Angiola replied: "I really do not care if it was; but there is a draught, and I must shut this door."
She came up so quickly that there was no time to retreat, and in a moment I was discovered.
She gave a little cry, and stepped back.
"Who are you, sir? How dare you----!"
I saw that the other was going to scream out, and burst forth: "Madam, I implore you to be still. There is absolutely no danger. I have had business with his excellency, and missed my way. Pardon the intrusion," and I stood with my cap in my hand.
"Well, sir," said the Lady Angiola, "as you have found out that you have missed your way, had you not better turn back?"
"Why, Angiola, it is the gentleman who rescued us in the gardens!" called out Madonna Marietta, with a sudden recognition.
"Who looks as if he were here now, to make up for it by cutting our throats. According to you he should have been dying of starvation at Santa Felicita."
"Madam," I cut in, "I wish I had died of starvation rather than heard this. I will however restore what I have received. If you can only show me the way out of this house I shall be grateful, and I again seek pardon for disturbing you."
"I suppose you are speaking the truth. Come, give me that candle, Marietta."
The other handed her a candlestick, and refusing my proffer to bear it, and with a curt request to walk in front, she directed and led me along the interminable galleries until I recognised the corridor from which I entered. I was again about to thank her, but she simply pointed to the door.
"Your way lies there, sir."
I opened the door and stepped on to the stairway without another word. In shutting the door behind me I glanced once more in her direction. She was already on her way back, the single candle throwing its soft light on her loose robes and graceful figure.
I made my way down the stairs, at the end realising the sensation of suddenly finding my foot meet the ground after the last step. I thought there was yet another and was brought up with a nasty jerk. Stepping out softly into the street, and holding my drawn sword in my hand, I hurried towards my abode. When I had gone about fifty paces, I heard the sound of a door opening and shutting behind me, but thinking it was the wind playing with the door I had left unlocked, having no key, I took no notice, and went on; but soon became aware I was being followed. I stopped therefore, and deliberately faced round. The footsteps behind me instantly ceased, and I could make out through the moonlight, the shadowy figure of a man, stooping as if to search for something. This was of course nothing but a pretence, and I had half a mind to go back and question him. Reflecting, however, that it would be wiser to avoid any further adventures for the night, and that after all it was but one man, I went on, and my pursuer did likewise, but at a greater distance than before, until finally apparently gave the matter up seeing I was on my guard. Crossing the square of Santa Felicita, however, I saw some one running swiftly a little ahead of me, and then disappear behind the shelter of the small casino of the Medici which stood there. I felt sure it was my shadower. He had passed me by some short cut, and was now probably intending to bring matters to a head. Keeping well in the middle of the road I went on, and to my surprise saw nothing, but in a short time again became conscious that I was dogged, and dropping into an artifice quickened my pace to a run. The sound of rapid footsteps behind me, showed that my curious friend was doing likewise, and not to deprive him of the exercise, I kept up the pace, until we reached the street di Pucci and were close to my lodging. Here I faced about and ran back full speed at my pursuer, feeling sure that the burst I had given him would try all his speed to get away. He so little calculated on my change of front, that he ran on about twenty yards, before realising what was the matter. Then he turned round and was about to make off, when I reached him, and driving him against the wall held him there, with the point of my sword at his breast. Imagine my surprise on seeing before me the young man with whom Ceci had gone away on our return from the funeral of Corte's daughter. He was doubtless also the spy of the evening, and now, with a face white with either terror or anger crouched against the wall, holding a dagger in his hand; but any attempt to use it would have been useless.
"Well," I said, "have you had enough of this?" and I emphasised the question with a sharp prick.
"Mercy!" he called out, thinking his last hour come, and scrabbled on to the pavement.
"Be off with you then!" I said, and assisted his departure with a hearty kick as he rose. He needed no second bidding, but made off at a good pace.
When his figure mingled up with the haze, and was lost to view, I proceeded on my way wondering a little at the incident. I could not help connecting it with the affair in the Secretary's room--the man I had chased up the endless galleries of his house, and the attempt at murder in the Marzocco Inn. Why was I followed? I could not make this out; but thankful that I had escaped with a whole skin, climbed up the winding stairway of the tower which led to my chamber. Carefully shutting the door, I lit my candle, and emptied out the contents of the bag I had received from Machiavelli on to my bed so that the coins might make no sound.
I could have thrown my cap over the housetops, I could have shouted for joy, as I saw the coins spread out before me. I stooped over them, holding the candle aloft in one hand, whilst I ran the fingers of the other through the clinking metal. There they lay! broad, shining pieces of silver, flecked, here and again, with the mellower light of gold. At one stroke, when my luck was apparently at its lowest ebb, it had turned again, and was coming up in high tide. Not only this, I was to go to Rome, the very place of all others where I was likely to meet D'Entrangues; and I breathed an impious prayer, that good angels might see he came to no hurt until we met, and even as I prayed the vision of that dying woman who forgave with her last breath, came before me. My hand shook so that I could barely hold the candle, and turning away, I placed it on the table and went up to my window. Midnight was long past and we were touching the morning. The only sound that broke the stillness was the distant clang of the martinello, keeping up its insistent beat; but the wind was from me, and the chime came softened to my ears. Already the east was whitening, and the moon was sinking to rest. All the old half-formed resolutions I had made, to let my enemy's crime pass, to leave vengeance in the hands of God, came up and fought with the fierce desire that the apparent opportunity of meeting D'Entrangues again, had fanned into life. What had not that man done to me? How could I forgive? We are all not framed in the same way. A tender woman might condone what man would never pass over. Why should I not be the instrument of God's punishment on that man? Without Him nothing was possible, and if I succeeded in killing D'Entrangues would it not mean that the deed had his sanction? On the other hand, there were the words of Savonarola's text, and the forgiveness I had seen with mine own eyes. Tossed by doubt, now resolved, now wavering--at one time certain I was right to be my own law, at another encompassed by a terrible fear of sin--I did what all men have to do at some time or other: I sank down on my knees, and wrestled with the temptation. I do not know what words of prayer I used, or how long I was there; but I can say this, that when I rose, my mind was at rest, and I had won a fight with myself. I would leave D'Entrangues to the justice of God. And for my honour? I would win it back again, not in distant lands, but here--here, where it was taken from me, and then--what a fool I was! When my shield was white once more, I would sheathe my sword, rebuild our old castle in the Sabine Hills, and there, perhaps--oh! I dreamed mad things when that peace fell upon me. But there was such a prosaic matter as sleep, and I had work for the morrow, so I pulled myself together, and with a mind more comfortable than for many a day, swept the coins into the bag, saw again to the fastening of the door, and, seeking my bed, slept a dreamful sleep until aroused by the cooing of my friends the pigeons. It was with a very different air that I went down the stairs that morning, and I realised, from contrast, how brave a heart a full purse can make. I meant to have paid Ceci at once, but he was not in his office, so I breakfasted in a leisurely manner, at the sign of the Double Florin and then returned.
As soon as I reached the Albizzi Palace, I went straight to Ceci's office, and found him engaged in conversation with a man. The latter started when he saw me, and hurriedly took his departure; but not before I recognised in him Ceci's nephew, and my shadow of last night. He gave me no friendly look as he went out; perhaps he was sore with the memory of the end of my boot, and I had a mind to give him the day, but prudently held my tongue between my teeth. Ceci was looking much disturbed and annoyed, and I laughed secretly to myself as I thought that, after all, I had been the instrument of upsetting the political plot to murder, in which the old conspirator had a share.
"A good day to you, Messer Ceci," I said. "I have come to settle my account."
"It is of long standing," he replied, somewhat brusquely; but I was not going to lose my temper, as I had things to find out.
"All the more pleasure in receiving it," and placing a couple of gold pieces on the table, I received my quittance and change.
"Messer Ceci," I went on, "I leave Florence to-day and there has been ill blood between us--your making entirely. I cannot forget, however, that when I was ill you helped me much, and that in other ways you were kind. Let us part friends--and, Messer Ceci, you are old. I would advise you to let matters of state alone."
He looked at me, and the corners of his mouth hardened, as he said, "Leave me and my age alone, Messer Donati. If it was not for you, there would have been a deed done last night at which all Florence would have rung again."
"So your precious nephew brought the news to you this morning?" I answered with a question, hazarding a shot.
Ceci remained silent, and drawing my conclusions, I went on, "Had what you plotted succeeded, you would have been in a fair way to taste the arms of the rack. Even now you are not safe. You see, Ceci, I know too much, and it would be wise to be civil."
"Not safe," and he laughed scornfully--"who says I am not safe?"
"I do--remember the Secretary has long arms."
"There are others who have longer, Messer Donati, and a dead tongue can tell no tales."
"I take your warning," I replied, and, turning on my heel, sought my chamber to await Machiavelli's messenger. I could not help thinking I had been wise to force the conversation with the intendant as I had done, and was sure, now that Ceci and the other conspirators were aware who had spoiled their soup, they would devote a little attention to me. It behooved me therefore to wear a loose sword for the future, and look well into corners before I passed them. I was not sure moreover whether I should still consider myself bound by my promise of secrecy, now that I had been as much as told that the conspirators were likely to include me in their plans, and turn their knives on me. I could well see that the Secretary would not be able to retaliate by the open process of the law, against the attack made on him, considering the circumstances under which it took place. That he would do so, however, under the mask, I felt sure, and he had received sufficient warning. Whilst thus reflecting I heard the gong in the yard below me strike twelve, and shortly after heavy steps ascended the stairs, with the sound of much puffing and blowing. The new arrival stopped at my landing, and knocked firmly at my door. Thinking it best to be careful, I unsheathed my sword, and letting down the bolt, stepped back a pace before I called out, "Come in." The door opened, and in walked my stout friend, who had retreated so rapidly from the bravos at the Marzocco.
"Messer Donati?" he said with an inquiring look.
"The same," I bowed, and offered him a chair.
"The devil!" he exclaimed, sinking into it, "but it is like an ascent to heaven for a sinner to reach you," and he mopped his face with a large handkerchief, "that curmudgeon downstairs, the intendant, flatly refused to inform me where you were, until I mentioned I came from the Secretary."
"You mentioned that!"
"Yes--ordiavolo!--how was I to find you? Let me tell you, sir, your consequence was much increased thereby," he puffed rather than spoke.
"I do not doubt it," and I marvelled at Machiavelli having selected this garrulous fool to be the bearer of his letter.
Subsequently I discovered that the Secretary did this deliberately, in order, if complications arose, to be able to deny that he had any hand in a transaction, in which an obscure soldier like myself, and a notorious old scamp like Buonoccorsi had borne part. In fact he very often adopted an artifice such as this, namely first sending public despatches solemnly by a known official of state, and following them up at once by a secret letter, which either confirmed them, or put quite a different complexion on their meaning; taking care to choose his messengers in such a manner that he would have nothing to fear from failure of theirs.
"I have come with a letter for you," Buonoccorsi continued, and pulling from a breast pocket a sealed but unaddressed packet, he handed it to me. "His excellency," he said, "tells me you know what to do with this."
"I do," I gave answer, and examining the seals carefully, put the letter in the pocket of a vest, which I wore under my buff-coat.
"Then that is done," he replied, "and now, signore, have you anything to drink--my throat is like a limekiln?"
"I am sorry I have not, but if you will accompany me to the Marzocco."
"The Marzocco! Blood of St. John! No more Marzoccos for me," he burst in, as the red went out of his cheek at the very thought of last night's affair. "Man alive! if Florence only knew what happened last night, the whole place would be in an uproar. It was lucky for the Secretary that you came to his aid, as I had to protect La Sirani--ladies first, you know--and could not help his excellency in any way."
"I see," I replied.
"Oh!" he went on, "there were three others in the street, butpresto!I disarmed one, pinked another, and the third would have met a like fate, had not La Sirani hung on my arm in her fright, so he made off. I would have pursued, but, hampered with the lady, what could I do?"
"And is not Florence to know what happened last night?" I asked.
He winked his eye, and replied--
"Between you and me, Messer Donati, I think not. You see the Secretary has a fair wife, and they say Madonna Marietta possesses a tongue as well as beauty. Apart from this, you must be aware, as a man of the world----"
"Quite so," and I rose with a smile, "but you must allow me to see that you cool that lime-kiln of yours. I am only sorry I must ask you to come a little way with me."
"Oh! I would go a long way for a can, Signor Donati, and will drink one gladly to your health."
So saying he got up, and we went down and out into the street. I took him to my ordinary, "The Double Florin," and he took a long time in quenching his thirst. When at last he had done, he wished me good day, and we parted, not deeming it desirable to be seen too much together in the streets, and besides I had much to do to get off by the evening. I made up my mind to recover the gold tari I had pledged, and after that to buy a horse and quit Florence at once. The tari itself I should have liked to have returned, as I had promised, or rather said in my anger last night that I would; but I could see no way of doing this without attracting too much attention. On my way to the pawnbroker's I kept my eyes well open, and caught a glimpse of the library scribe, walking on the other side of the road, engaged in conversation with a man, who, despite his common dress, had an air of rank. The latter parted from Ceci's nephew almost as soon as I saw them, and the scribe kept on in my direction. I saw he was again following me, and regretted the mercy I had shown last night, resolving, if opportunity afforded again, to quiet his curiosity for some time to come. I duly redeemed the tari, somewhat to the surprise of the pawnbroker, whose pledges did not as a rule pass so swiftly back into the hands of their rightful owners. On coming out of the shop, my follower was nowhere to be seen at first; but he soon appeared, always keeping on the opposite side of the road. I resolved not to go back to my lodging, but to quit Florence the moment I had secured my horse. It was necessary however to provide some change of attire. I did not intend to substitute a steel corslet for my buff-coat, having a mind to fight my way back to fortune with no defence but that over my heart, and contented myself with purchasing a light steel helmet, a pair of stout riding-boots, a cloak, and some other articles which could go into a small valise, capable of being fastened on to the back of a saddle. These I left at the vendor's, promising to call for them in an hour or so, and hurried towards the horse market, my shadow still keeping behind me, in his accustomed place. Opposite the Baptistry I heard, to my surprise, some one shouting my name, and looking in that direction, saw a man running across the pavement towards me. I recognised at once one of my lances, Jacopo Jacopi, a Lucchese, whom I had every reason to believe devoted to me. He had served with me at Fornovo and after; and although he subsequently left me for a little time, on my joining the Venetian fleet against the Turks, he returned to my banner once more, when it was spread on firm ground, and had always proved a devoted follower. He came now to me with joy on his face, shouting out, "Ah, excellency! It is I, who am a glad man to see you."
"Jacopi," I exclaimed, "but my name is no longer Savelli. It is Donati now--and what do you here?"
He looked a trifle embarrassed, as he replied, "I am seeking service--I left the army when your excellency left."
Knowing the man to be a stout soldier, I decided on the instant what to do.
"See here," I said, "I have no time to lose. Will you follow me once more? I am bound to Rome on an urgent affair, and leave to-day."
"Will a dog sniff at a bone? Will a cat pass by cream? Will an ass turn up his nose at a carrot? I will follow to the devil, let alone Rome, excellency, and at once if you will."
"Have you a horse?"
"Nothing, signore, but an arquebus and my sword, which I have at my lodging."
"Then come with me, we must buy two horses, and leave at once."
"I am ready, your worship," and taking his place a little behind me we hurried on.
"We will have a hard task to get at Rome, now that the whole country is up, signore," said Jacopo as we walked along.
"I have thought of that," I answered, "I propose to go by Leghorn, and taking ship there, proceed to Rome by sea."
Jacopo gave such a groan at this, that I turned round in surprise, and became at once aware that my shadower had crossed the road, and come so close up to us that he must have overheard every word of our conversation. This was most annoying, and a disaster of which the future consequences might be most serious. I determined however to be rid of him for the rest of my stay in Florence at any rate, and addressed him sharply--
"Signore, I seem to have excited much curiosity in you. May I ask what it is you want?"
He stood for a moment, at a loss for reply, and then said, "The road is as free to me as to you."
"I admit that," I said; "but I object to your stopping to listen to my conversation, and therefore will be obliged by your passing on, unless you want a more severe punishment than you received last night."
He turned pale with anger, and slipped his hand into his vest; but as suddenly pulled it out again, and without another word hurried past us.
"Mark that man, Jacopo;" I said, "wherever he is, there is danger for us."
"Your excellency has only to say the word," and Jacopo put his hand to his belt.
"Not so, my friend. Florence is not a safe place for a man to use his dagger in broad daylight, unless covered by the cloak of a great man. Besides it is not to my taste. Merely keep your eyes open, and if you see him anywhere, tell me at once."
"It shall be so," he answered; "but who would inquire about a mere citizen like that?"
"Never mind, Jacopo; rest assured I know what I am about, and now tell me some news of the army."
"The duke is in full march on Perugia, and means to drive Cesare thence. The whole country is awake, as you know. The general, Ives d'Alegres, is come on a mission to Florence."
"Ives d'Alegres here!"
"Yes, excellency, and the Lord of Bayard has hurried to Rome."
"Then this means something that I cannot follow."
"Nor can I explain, excellency."
"And tell me, has the Duchesse de la Tremouille gone back to France?"
"Yes, by sea from Leghorn, with a great train of ladies, just before war was declared again. It is said she has gone to the court of the king at Maçon, and the escort was commanded by the Count Carlo Visconti."
"Do you know any who went with her?"
"Nearly all the ladies who were at Arezzo, for the duke, it is said, would have none of them, now that war was begun again."
I had to come to the question direct, "Was Madame d'Entrangues in the train of the duchess?"
"I am sure of that, excellency. I was with them as far as Siena, when I took my leave."
So she had gone, and I felt a relief at the news. Once in France, she would be safe with her family, and I was honestly glad she was out of the dangers of the time.
We now reached the horse market, and with some search discovered two likely-looking animals, whose price was within the measure of my purse. I could not afford to pick and choose to any great extent, but for forty crowns became the owner--after a little trial, which showed they were as sound as I could see--of two nags, one a bay, and the other a russet, with an off foot white above the pastern, an unlucky colour, and the white marking denoted devilty. But he was a shrewd-looking beast, and I kept him for myself, giving the bay to Jacopo. Having paid on the spot for these, together with the necessary saddlery, we rode to the shop where I had left my purchases, and collected them. It was here that the idea struck me that there was an opportunity to keep my word, and return her gift to Madonna Angiola; therefore asking messer the shopkeeper for sealing-wax and some parchment, which he willingly supplied on a small payment, I carefully folded up the tari, and sealed up the packet. Taking it in my hand, I went out to Jacopo, who was holding the horses, and said--
"See here, Jacopo. Take this packet to the house of the secretary Machiavelli. It lies in the ward San Spirito, near Santa Felicita, and cannot be missed. Deliver it into the hands of the Lady Angiola, say nothing, and come away. There is no reply needed, you follow?"
"Excellency."
"Right. Then after doing this you may dine, collect your arms, and meet me in an hour and a-half at the San Frediano Gate. And you might as well bring a feed for the horses with you. Stay, here are two crowns."
"It shall be done, your worship. I know the Secretary's house, and the rest is simple."
He mounted his horse, and trotted off; and reflecting that a chaffinch in a cage is better than a mavis in a bush, and that I might as well dine now whilst I had the chance, I swung myself into the saddle, and proceeded at a smart pace towards the Double Florin.
I had to cross the piazza of the Signory on my way there, and whilst doing so came face to face with a riding party. It was composed of several ladies and gentlemen, and amongst them was Machiavelli, who glanced at me with a friendly twinkle in his eye, and gave me an imperceptible nod of approval. Almost immediately behind him was old Ives d'Alegres, riding with a bolt upright seat, and making himself agreeable, in his bear-like manner, to the Lady Angiola, who rode beside him. There was no avoiding them, and yielding to a sudden impulse I saluted as they came up. A look of contempt spread over the features of the general, who made no response, and Madonna Angiola kept her eyes fixed before her, as if she had seen nothing. They passed by in a moment, leaving me speechless with anger, for owing to my failure to preserve a disguise, I had allowed my beard to grow again, and D'Alegres without doubt recognised me. There was some excuse perhaps for him; but none, I could think of, for her, and to add to my chagrin, I thought that Jacopo would probably waste hours in awaiting her return. I let my horse out to a hand gallop, notwithstanding the pavement, and luckily doing no injury to any of the passers-by or to him, pulled up in a few minutes at the door of my ordinary. Here, although I tried to eat, I was so angry that I could only trifle with my food, and raging within myself, I drank a full measure of wine, swallowed such morsels as I could, and went to see after my horse. By my directions he had a light feed, and was being rubbed down. As provision against accidents, I purchased a bottle of Chianti, together with a roast fowl and a loaf of white bread, and these I placed in my saddle-bags. Then, seeing to the saddling of the horse myself, I exchanged my velvet cap for the steel helmet, and drawing my sword-belt in by a hole, sprang into the saddle, and went on at a leisurely pace towards the San Frediano Gate. There was still plenty of time, so I made no hurry, and indeed, when I reached the gate, the gong there boomed out five o'clock, leaving a half-hour still to spare before Jacopo was due. I pulled up therefore at the side of the road, and dismounting, led my horse up and down. It was whilst thus engaged, that I noticed a priest, mounted on a smart cob, trotting in the direction of the gate, and knowing that a misfortune and a friar are seldom apart, I observed him narrowly as he passed. He drew his cowl, however, over his face, so that I could make nothing of him; but on reaching the gate he stopped to ask some questions of the sentry there, and the man, in raising his hand to salute, slightly startled the horse, which threw back its head. This sudden movement made the hood the rider wore fall back a little, but it was enough to enable me to see it was the library scribe, old Ceci's nephew; and I augured no good from this, resolving nevertheless to be on my guard more than ever. The pretended priest received an answer to his inquiry, and giving his benediction, in true sacerdotal manner, rode off at a pace that showed his seat on the library stool had not interfered with his seat in the saddle. It was now fully the half hour, and yet Jacopo did not come. I waited until the gong struck six, and was just about to ride off, leaving a message with the guard, when I saw him approaching.
"Make haste," I cried as I mounted, "you are late."
"Pardon, excellency! But the lady was not there. I had to wait a full hour before she came back from riding, and the General d'Alegres was with her."
"Did you give the packet?"
"I did, excellency. I rode up, asked who the Lady Angiola was, and presented the packet, saying it was from the Cavaliere di Savelli, my master."
"Oh, glorious fool! Did I not tell you my name was Donati? Did I not tell you to say nothing, but merely give the packet into the lady's hands?"
"Body o' me, excellency! But there were so many about, my wits almost went a wool-gathering. I gave madame the packet, however, and she took it."
"Said anything?"
"Nothing, excellency--never a word."
There was no use crying over spilt milk, and cursing Jacopo in my heart for a muddle-headed fool, we started off. On reaching the sentry, I thought I might as well try and find out what the sham friar was looking after. The man raised his hand in salute as I came up, and flinging him a crown I bade him drink to the health of the Signory therewith.
"Marry! I will with pleasure, and yours, too, excellency," he said, as he pocketed the money, evidently stirred by the amount.
"Instead of mine, drink to the health of my good friend the monk, who has just gone on. Can you tell me if he inquired for any one here?"
I relied on the simplicity of the man, and on taking him by surprise with the question, and as it happened I hit my mark.
"In truth, excellency, the reverend father did inquire about a party of five horsemen, who took the road to Leghorn about four o'clock this afternoon. He doubted much if he could overtake them ere nightfall he said, and would have to ride hard."
I poised another crown on my finger absently. "Do you know any of the party who went ahead?"
"No, excellency; but their leader was an old man with a long white beard, and I think I heard him addressed as Ceci. Excellency, the wine will flow to-night--a hundred thanks."
I dropped the crown into his palm, moving him to his closing words.
"Come on, Jacopo. It grows late," and setting spurs to our horses, we rode out at a gallop.