The Honour of Savelli: A Romance
To say that I was grateful would be to say very little; but I will
merely add here that the gift itself was only equalled by the manner
of the giver. I accompanied Bayard into the garden, which lay to the
west of the palace, and in course of conversation told him that I had
received the sum sent by D'Amboise, and of the steps I had taken to
get together a few men, and assured him that whatever the task was
that I was to be set to perform, nothing but death itself would cut
short my endeavour. Our talk then drifted to other matters, and he
gave me some information of interest concerning Madame D'Entrangues.
It appeared that D'Entrangues, who had a friend at court in his
kinsman, Etienne de Vesci, the seneschal of Beaucaire, had forwarded a
strong petition against Tremouille's decision regarding himself, and a
prayer that the king would restore him to his position, and compel
Madame D'Entrangues to return to him. As if he himself had not
abandoned her! Owing to his influence with Cesare he had moreover
obtained an order from Alexander denying madame the refuge of a
convent. Louis had, however, declined to interfere with Tremouille's
decision, but had ordered madame to leave the court and return to her
husband. Fearing that force would be resorted to in order to compel
her to return to D'Entrangues she had fled from the protection of the
Duchesse de la Tremouille, who denied all knowledge of her movements,
and the matter stood there. By this time it was almost approaching the
dinner hour, and we separated, Bayard, followed close at his heels by
Bran, going to seek the cardinal, and I returning to my chamber, where
I found Jacopo who had just come back. He had been to the stables on
his way up, and was loud in his praise of Castor.
"They say he is fleet as the wind, excellency, and he is as gentle as
a lambkin. It is a glorious steed, and a princely gift."
"It is so; but what success have you had?"
"None as yet about the swords, signore; there has not been time; but I
have engaged a couple of grooms and a lackey, and ordered plain
liveries for them. The grooms are even now with the horses, and the
lackey will be here to-morrow."
"Very well, there is time enough. Basta! There go the trumpets. His
eminence must be served."
We made our way to the dining-hall, entering it almost at the same
time as the cardinal, his guests, and the rest of the suite. At the
high table on the _dais_ sat the cardinal, with Bayard, another prince
of the church whom I afterwards found out was the Cardinal of
Strigonia, a scion of the house of Este, and a tall, sombre-looking
man, with high aquiline features, and a complexion almost as dark as a
Moor's. He was plainly and simply dressed, wearing a light steel
corselet over his jerkin, and round his neck the ribbon of St. James
of Compostella, whilst the order itself, a red enamel sword with a
_fleur-de-lis hilt_, set in an oval white enamel medallion with a red
border, studded with brilliants, flashed at his throat. His short,
closely-cropped hair was white as snow, but the long moustache which
dropped over his mouth and short, pointed beard, was untouched by a
streak of grey. Altogether a remarkable man, one whom no one could
pass by without looking at twice; and in me he excited the greatest
interest, for he was none other than Ganalvo de Cordova, the "Great
Captain," and the most skilful general of the age. He had only a few
weeks before driven Marshal d'Aubigny out of Calabria, and was
marching straight on against Tremouille, when the cessation of
hostilities stopped his plans, and suddenly resigning his command he
had come to Rome, for what purpose no one knew, although it was said
that his resignation and difference with the Spanish Court was but a
blind.
Be that as it may, I had now an opportunity of seeing together, seated
side by side, the dark and stern grandee of Spain, as able as he was
cruel, as vindictive as he was brave; and the brilliant and polished
Bayard, who seemed to have gathered in his person all the noblest
qualities of knighthood, and on the white shield of whose honour there
was never a stain. And how different was the fate of these two men! De
Cordova, after holding the highest offices, after being practically a
king, after shedding an imperishable glory on his country by his
victories, and staining her memory indelibly by his perfidy, died at
last, with all his fine spun webs broken. And Bayard--old as I am, my
eyes grow moist when I think of that glorious day at the passage of
the Sesia, when, covered with wounds, overborne by numbers, and
fighting to the last against hopeless odds, Pierre du Terrail gave
back his soul to God. But long years were to pass before this
happened, and Bayard was at present in the hey-dey of his career.
The table for the gentlemen of the suite was placed just below the
_dais_, and extending further down the room were other tables, for all
who could obtain seats thereat, whilst at the extreme end of the room
was a high stand, whence any one was at liberty to bear away as much
of a meal as he could carry off on the point of his dagger.
Estimating roughly, I should say that fully three hundred persons
dined daily, in this manner, with D'Amboise, and this hospitality,
which he exercised in the manner of a French feudal noble, was the
subject of much amusement at the Papal Court, where they prided
themselves on a more refined and delicate style of living. At any
rate, all that was here was safe to touch, and no one had need to fear
that a dinner at the Palazzo Corneto with the Cardinal of Rouen was a
prelude to a supper with St. Peter in heaven. His eminence, who was a
notable trencherman, beamed down from his high seat on us all, and
tried valiantly to assay conclusions with the Cardinal of Strigonia;
but was compelled at last to own himself beaten, for Ippolyte d'Este
was one in a thousand at table; in fact, this jovial prelate ended his
days suddenly, after a prodigious dinner, which began at eleven in the
morning and ended at four in the afternoon, concluding with so light a
dainty as a dish of roasted cray-fish, washed down with a bottle of
vernaccia, a wine of which he was inordinately fond. At our own table,
there were about a dozen or more, and I found myself seated next to
St. Armande, whilst opposite to me was Le Clerc, the cardinal's
chaplain, and next to him an officer of the Papal Guards, a Spaniard,
who spoke little and ate much. St. Armande passed by the wine,
drinking only water, and in reply to a question of mine answered that
he was under a vow.
"We can absolve you here easily, chevalier," said Le Clerc, who
overheard the remark, "here is some Orvieto which I can recommend,"
and he pushed the flask towards St. Armande.
The latter, however, would not be tempted, and Le Clerc shook his
head.
"A wilful man must have his way, chevalier; but that Orvieto was a
present from Pierrot, Our Lord's most favoured servant."
"Indeed," said the Spaniard; "then I can safely say it is the last
present you will receive from Don Pierrot."
"How so?"
"Cesare arrived last night, very suddenly, with two men only, they
say. He has not, however, yet seen His Holiness--although he is in the
Vatican."
Le Clerc remained silent, but St. Armande asked in his low voice--
"I do not follow, sir. Could you not explain? Unless I ask too much.
You see I am a stranger to Rome."
The Spaniard smiled grimly.
"It means, chevalier, that Pierrot was found this morning with a
dagger sticking up to the hilt in his heart."
St. Armande turned pale, and Le Clerc asked in a low tone--
"Are you sure of this? When did it happen?"
"As sure as I sit here. It happened an hour or so after Cesare's
coming. The Pope is said to be overcome with grief," and the lips of
Don Diego de Leyva took a sarcastic curve.
"Great heavens!" said Le Clerc. "Poor Pierrot!"
The chaplain rose from his seat with a slight apology, and approaching
D'Amboise, leaned over him and whispered a few words in his ear. The
cardinal nodded with apparent unconcern, and Le Clerc came back; but
watching D'Amboise narrowly, I saw that although he still appeared to
laugh and jest, his eyes were grave and his brow troubled. In fact,
shortly afterwards, the high table broke up, and we followed suit very
soon. Despite his effeminate appearance, I had begun to take a liking
to St. Armande, and as the next few hours were at our disposal, I
invited him to ride out with me, as I had a mind to try Castor's
paces. This, however, he declined, with the somewhat shy air that
marked his manner, and leaving him to his devices, I ordered Castor to
be saddled and took him out. When I returned, about five in the
afternoon, I felt that all that had been said of the generous beast I
rode, underrated his value, and that I possessed a matchless steed,
who was fit to run for a kingdom.
CHAPTER XVI.
FRIEND OR FOE.
For the next few days the routine of my life was exactly the same, the
morning attendance at the cardinal's levee, the daily dinner in
public, and long rides with Castor in the afternoons, in which I was
sometimes accompanied by St. Armande; but this was not always
possible, as he was closely attached to D'Amboise's person. D'Amboise
frequently asked me to accompany him to the Vatican; but up to now I
had begged permission to decline his invitation, on the plea that,
with the business before me, it would perhaps be well for me to
live as much in retreat as possible. The cardinal said, with that
good-tempered laugh of his, which entirely belied his astute scheming
nature, that as I was as yet ignorant of my task, I need not be so
careful. I replied to his eminence, that it was just because I was in
the dark, that I was so circumspect, and he was then good enough to
agree with me. I was, however, naturally anxious to see something of
the Vatican, and one of my reasons for refusing, besides that of
prudence, was that I was not sufficiently well equipped. This,
however, with the funds at my disposal, was soon mended, but from some
cause or other, I had up to now not gone. Jacopo was not so successful
as he anticipated he would be, in raising his men. It was, above all,
necessary to have them trustworthy, and it was difficult to get men of
this class for a merely temporary employment such as I offered. At
last the matter was arranged, and by the end of the week I mustered a
body of six stout fellows, all of them fairly well mounted, and what
was better, all of them trained soldiers. I had them lodged near the
Ripetta, and the cardinal's table afforded them a free dinner, of
which they were not slow to take advantage. In order to keep them
employed, I took them out with me every afternoon, dismissing them
upon my return, with orders to join the nightly escort of the cardinal
and Bayard, to and from the Vatican. I saw a good deal of Bayard, and
at times expressed myself with impatience at being kept to cool my
heels. He told me he was not at liberty to mention the details of the
business on which I was to be employed, and advised me to bide my time
with a patient heart. Amongst other matters we spoke of was the murder
of Pierrot, and Bayard told me that Cesare Borgia had left Rome the
next day without seeing his father, the Pope, and that he was crushing
out completely the stand made against him by my old chief Vitelli of
Citta del Castello, and others.
I took Bayard's advice and held patience by the tail, although I
longed for work to begin. My men were in good fettle. They had enough
work to keep them out of mischief, the pay was good, they had
sufficient leisure for amusement, and there was therefore no
grumbling.
I used to sup alone in my rooms, occasionally asking St. Armande to