The Honour of Savelli: A Romance
"_Ciel!_" he muttered under his breath, and I heard the abbe as he
leaned forward whisper, "Courage! would you give way now? Courage!"
Clearly there was a mystery here to which I had no clue, and it
troubled me. I glanced at St. Armande, and through the moonlight saw
the white of his cheek, showing all the paler for the black patch he
wore transversely across it; but looking at him did not explain
matters.
"What the devil does this mean?" I said half aloud to myself.
"Did you speak?"
"Merely something to myself, chevalier. _Diavolo!_ But this is a dull
ride."
"Do you think so?" and his tone softened suddenly.
I made no reply, but stirred up Castor, and we jogged along. I left
the mystery to take care of itself, and mapped out a line of action. I
would take only two men with me into Perugia, and send the rest with
St. Armande to the convent of St. Jerome to await the result of my
attempt to free Angiola. It sounded like foolishness to give St.
Armande the control of the stronger party, especially if he meant
treachery; but this I was persuaded he did not. On the other hand a
following of six troopers was a trifle too many to pay a peaceful
visit to Baglioni, and might arouse suspicion, while they were too few
to attempt open force. In short, if I could not do what I wanted with
two men, I would not be able to effect it with six or a dozen, and
made up my mind to split our party, either after crossing the Paglia,
or beyond at San Fortunato.
In this manner, sometimes galloping, sometimes trotting, and at other
times walking our horses to give them a rest, we reached Castel Nuovo
but did not enter the town, skirting it by our right, although one of
the troopers suggested our going westwards by Campagnano, a useless
detour as it seemed to me. We passed the little town exactly at
midnight, and the chime of bells striking the hour fell pleasantly on
our ears. A short way beyond we found the road so cut into ruts and
fissures that it was not possible to go at any other than a snail's
pace, so that within the next two hours we barely covered as many
leagues. The moon was now on the wane, the road became worse, and one
or two of the horses showed signs of fatigue. Jacopo rode up beside
me.
"By your leave, excellency! We have the road by Soratte to cross soon,
and in the coming darkness may possibly lose our way. I would suggest,
therefore, that we halt here until dawn. It will rest the horses, and
with the light we could press on."
"Very well. Hark! Is not that the sound of water?"
"Yes, your worship."
"Then we will stop there."
A few yards beyond we came to a ruined temple, near which a fountain
was bubbling. Here I gave the order to halt, and in less time
than I take to write this, the troopers had sprung to earth, the
saddle-girths were loosened, and all the preparations for a two hours'
halt begun.
I shared a little wine with St. Armande and the abbe, and the former,
rolling himself up in his cloak, leaned his back against a fallen
pillar, and seemed to drop off at once into sleep.
The abbe followed his example; but my mind was too impatient for rest,
and I walked up and down, watching the ending of the moon, until it
finally sank out of sight, and darkness fell upon us.
Dark as it was around me, my mind was in a still greater darkness, for
I was unable to think of any plan by which I could gain access to
Angiola, after reaching Perugia. Time, too, was short; but that did
not matter, for I was prepared to let the affair of the ducats slide,
rather than lose any chance of rescuing her.
A straw yet remained. Luck might be on my side; and with luck and a
strong heart one might do anything. There was nothing for it but to
content myself for the present with this. Until I reached Perugia I
could develop no plan. So I paced up and down with an unsettled mind,
and finally, seating myself on a stone, awaited the morning,
alternately nodding and awakening with a start.
At last! The east began to whiten, and getting up stiffly, I touched
Jacopo with the end of my sword. He jumped up with an exclamation, and
recognising me, began to apologise. This I cut short, and bade him
arouse the men.
"This instant, your worship. _Cospetto!_ To think I should have
overslept myself! Ho, sluggards! Buffaloes! Awake! Think you that you
are going to snore here all night?" and he began to stir the men up.
They rose willingly enough, with tremendous yawnings, and stretching
of arms, and we were soon on the march again, through the increasing
daylight.
The coming day seemed to warm the hearts of the men, and one of them
broke into song, the chorus being taken up by the others as we jogged
along. When this had lasted some little time, I gave Castor's reins a
shake, and off we went at a smart gallop.
Shortly after passing San Oreste the road led along the side of
Soratte, and, the morning being young, besides very bright and clear,
we had a glorious view. To the left lay Civita Castellana, the walls
of the new citadel standing high above the town, which lay in the
middle of a network of deep ravines; to the right and behind us the
Sabine Hills extended in long, airy lines, and the wooded heights of
Pellachio and San Gennaro, where, close to Palembara, was an old
castle of our house, rose to the south-east. Above us was the
monastery of St. Silvestre, and Soratte itself reached towards where
Borghetto stood, on a bend of the Tiber, in a series of descending
peaks. Cool puffs of air caught us, and freshened the horses as well
as our hearts, and it was a cheery party that finally reached the
Ponte Felice, and entered the town. Here our safe-conduct again stood
us in good stead. Indeed, we had difficulty in getting away, for the
Captain Lippi, who held Borghetto for the Borghia, wished to press his
hospitality on us for a few days; but on my eventually taking him
aside, and whispering to him that I was bound on a confidential
mission, he gave in, but with some little reluctance. He, however,
invited us to share his table at dinner. I accepted, but St. Armande,
who was looking very wearied, declined, and dined quietly with the
abbe at the "Silver Eel," where I quartered my men.
Lippi was an old soldier risen from the ranks, with a head more full
of drill than suspicion; but in order to remove any such weed that
might be growing there, I affected to be so delighted with his
conversation at dinner, that I begged the favour of his accompanying
me for a league or so on my way, after we had dined. To this he agreed
with alacrity, and I was subsequently sorry for my pains, for the old
bore did not quit me until we had all but reached the Nera, and saw
the campanile of St. Juvenalis rising above Narni. We did this portion
of the journey at a rapid pace, as I wanted, if possible, to shake off
the captain, but, mounted on an Apulian, he stuck to me like a burr,
dinning into my ears his opinion as to how the cross-bow was a weapon
as superior to the arquebus as the mangonel was above even Novarro's
new cannon. At length he wished us the day and departed, and the
horses, scenting the end of their day's journey, put on fresh speed as
we galloped through the oaks that studded the valley of the Nera. The
river here was hemmed into a narrow ravine, and crossing by an ancient
bridge of three spans, supposed to have been built by the Romans, we
climbed up the steep ascent that led to Narni, and there found food
and lodging for both man and beast, at an albergo, the name of which,
somehow, I have forgotten. St. Armande was quite worn out, and I saw
he was unfitted for any long strain. We supped together, and he
retired almost at once. After supper I had a detailed examination of
the horses, and found that one of them had a sore back. The trooper
who owned him, vowed he would not part with him, so I had to dismiss
the man, which I did. This reduced my fighting strength to six men,
including Jacopo. I did not include St. Armande and his followers in
estimating this, putting them down to so much encumbrance, of which I
would soon take care to be rid. I was anxious, however, to hurry on,
and so altered my original plans a little, and in the morning, after
we had gone about a league, I turned to St. Armande, and said:
"Chevalier, it is necessary for me to press on with all speed. I want
you, therefore, to do me a favour."
"Anything you like, cavaliere; but we do not part, do we?"
"It is this. I am going on at once; I want you to take four of my
troopers, and with your own following make for the convent of St.
Jerome. It lies a little beyond Magione. Your arrival will be
expected. If not, say you are awaiting me. Await me for a week. If I
do not come then, go back to Rome, and tell the cardinal what you have
done."
"But I thought I was to go with you, and share your adventure."
"I give you my word of honour, St. Armande, that you will share
in the adventure for which I agreed you should come--share up to the
elbows--but you will spoil everything if you do not do what I say."
"There is no danger to you?"
"No more than there is to you; in one word, St. Armande, do you agree
or not?"
"Very well."
"Then there is no time to lose. Jacopo!"
"Excellency."
"Pick out a man, and he, you, the lackey, and myself, will go on
ahead. The rest can follow. I have given all other orders to the
signor, St. Armande."
"There is Bande Nere, your worship."
"I am ready, cavaliere;" and a tall, thin, grey-moustached trooper
saluted as he spoke.
He looked the man I wanted. My lackey was a stout horseman, and at a
pinch might hold a sword as well as he held my valise. So, shaking
hands with St. Armande, I put spurs to Castor, and we dashed off.
Turning the corner of a belt of forest land, I looked back and waved
my hand in further adieu to the chevalier. I caught the flutter of the
white handkerchief the young dandy carried, as he loosed it to the air
in reply to my salute, and the next moment the trees hid them from
view.
We rode hard now, Castor going almost as freely as when we started.
Indeed, I would have far outpaced the others, if I did not let him
feel the bit once, and the noble beast, as if knowing his duty,
required no further warning not to outstrip his companions.
Going as we were now Perugia was but a few hours away; but the pace
was too great to last long, and from Todi to Perugia there were nine
leagues and a trifle over of an ascending road. Castor might do it,
the others I was sure would not. In order, therefore, to rest the
horses, as well as to avoid question, I resolved that we should dine
at Rosaro, and after an hour or so of rest press forwards, passing by
Todi, and travelling all night, so as to reach Perugia in the morning.
If we went faster, we would only reach at night, and so late as to
find entrance into the town impossible.
We clattered past the villages of San Gemini and Castel Todino, and
about noon drew up our now somewhat blown beasts at the gates of the
"Man-at-Arms," the only inn in the village.
It was a poor place I saw at a glance, and as we pulled up, a crowd of
yokels in holiday attire gathered around us. The inn seemed full, too,
for the yard swarmed with people, and a half-score heads of contadini
were at each window, staring at us open-eyed.
As I took this in, the landlord came running out, cap in hand and full
of apologies.
"_Ohime!_ But my house is full to the garrets, signore; and it is
nothing I can do for you to-day. To-morrow is the feast of St. Mary of
the Consolation, and all the country is going to Todi----"
"I do not want to stay. We merely halt here to bait our horses and to
dine. Can you not manage that?"
"If that is all, excellency, yes, oh, yes. The beasts, they can rest
anywhere, and there is a polenta and room for your excellency's