The Honour of Savelli: A Romance
"Come, madam," I said, "you must rouse yourself--take another day to
swoon--hold me as closely as you can--quick."
My words--and the tone they were spoken in--had the effect I wanted.
She looked a little indignant, but held on, leaving my left arm, which
was getting numbed, more free to guide the horse, and my sword arm
greater liberty should occasion arise.
The country, rugged although it was, descended in a slope towards the
basin of Trasimene, but I turned sharp aside from the road, fearing
there might be a picquet thereon, and galloped across the open, far
out-pacing my followers, who I saw were coming after me in a bunch,
and at their utmost speed--the honest knaves. The glance over my
shoulder that I took to observe this also showed me a strong body of
horse spurring from the gate, and I chuckled to myself as I thought we
had gained a mile's start and that they had to deal with Castor. Five
leagues to go--it was nothing to the brave horse; and in answer to my
call he stretched himself out as he had never done before. As for me,
such thoughts as I had when I felt the arms of the woman I loved
clasped about me are to be recalled for one's self alone, and concern
none else beside. Once or twice I glanced down, meeting her eyes, and
as she dropped her lids over them they seemed to me to be alive with a
soft light. After a little I felt her arms beginning to relax.
"Hold tight," I said.
"I cannot; my strength is going."
"Courage, take heart; see, to our left is the Tower of Magione--a few
minutes and we are safe."
I drew her closer towards me. With an effort she rallied, her arms
again tightened in their clasp, and we sped down the long slope which
led to Trasimene, Castor stretching himself like a greyhound. I looked
again over my shoulder. Far behind my men were riding for their lives,
and farther still was the dark line of our pursuers, coming on with
dogged persistence, the sun lighting up their armour and flashing from
their spears. Once beyond Magione we were comparatively safe, but a
false step, a stumble, and all was lost. Magione itself was held by
the Baglioni, and from the old watch-tower, built by the Sforza, which
stood high above the country, we might have already been spied, and a
party sent out to intercept us. The thought seemed to grow into a
reality, and a despair began to come over me. "On, on, Castor!" I
spoke to the good horse, and he laid his ears back at the sound of my
voice, and even as he did so I saw a cloud of dust coming towards our
left, and knew that the danger I feared was at hand. Going as we were
I was riding right into the party from Magione, and therefore with a
touch on the rein, I swung Castor round to the north, and we raced on,
leaving the tower over my shoulder. The double burden and the
tremendous pace, however, began to tell on the horse, and within the
next five minutes he slackened perceptibly in his stride. To my horror
I saw that the ground began to be furrowed and cut up by ravines and
that we were approaching the bed of a river. I had therefore to
slacken the pace, and at the same time our new pursuers sighting us,
came on with all the speed of their fresh horses. Castor scrambled in
and out of the ravines like a cat, but we were going slowly now, and
the enemy had all the advantage of the level ground to come up, which
they did at a dreadful rate. With the failing strength of my companion
I dared not risk jumps, weighted as I was, but the brave horse did his
utmost, as if knowing our danger.
"For God's sake hold on!" I cried out as we topped a deep ravine with
a plunge that almost caused Angiola to slip from my grasp, and as I
said this I heard a shot and a ball from an arquebus whistled over my
head. The enemy were in the rough ground now themselves, but they were
within gun-range, and I dreaded that some of them might dismount and
pick me off. This however did not occur to them, and on we went, with
every now and again a bullet, fired from horseback with an unsteady
aim singing past us. My charge had twisted her arms into my shoulder
belt and held on bravely, but I saw by her white face and the blue
coming into her lips that this could not last, and if she fainted
there was an end of all.
At the outside it was a matter of a few minutes now, one way or the
other; but as I came to the crest of another ravine I saw before me a
steep bank leading down to a small stream that was swishing along in a
white flood, and on the opposite shore a sight that made my heart
leap, for drawn up in array, evidently roused by the sound of the
shots, was a strong body of men-at-arms, and over them fluttered the
pennon of Hawkwood, a red hand on a white field. I knew in a moment we
were within the king's outposts.
"Saved!" I shouted in my joy. "Saved!"--and risking all I made the
horse fly the last ravine, and the next instant we had slid down the
bank, and the white water was churning round Castor as he dashed into
the stream.
A puff of smoke above us, a flash as of lightning, a deafening roar,
and one of Novarro's nine pounders belched out a storm of grape, that
hissed over our heads in the direction of our pursuers, and stopped
them, beaten and baffled. One effort more, we were out of the stream,
up the bank, and panting, breathless and still bleeding, with my
companion in a dead faint in my arms, I reined in Castor. In a moment
we were surrounded, but the faces were kindly, and dismounting slowly,
I placed my lifeless burden on a heap of cloaks that were flung to the
earth for her, and then turning round, saw Hawkwood before me. It was
the first time we had met since the affair at Arezzo, when I was cast
forth a dishonoured man. I did not know how to greet him, and there
was a constraint in his face, for I saw he knew me, and was like
myself at a loss for speech. I had, however, to take the matter in my
hand.
"Signore," I said, "accept my thanks. This lady is the Countess
Angiola Castellani, a ward of the Florentine secretary, whom I have
brought off from Perugia, and have to take to the convent of St.
Jerome."
He tugged at his tawny moustache.
"I have merely carried out orders--you have nothing to thank me for,
signore. My instructions were to prevent any of Baglioni's men
crossing the Sanguinetta, and to protect all fugitives from the
territories of the Borgia."
I bowed and added, with a pain in my tone I could not conceal, for
this man was once my friend--
"All the same I thank you, signore; I have, however, four followers."
"I can do nothing for them if they are on the other bank," he
interrupted, and went on, "St. Jerome is not a half-league from here.
My men will make up a litter, and help to bear the lady there. It will
be easier for her. I wish you a good day." He turned on his heel and
gave some orders to his men in English, a language I do not know,
leaving me standing by the body of Angiola. All the misery of the past
came back to me in a flash. Would the stain never be wiped out? All
the kindness I had received from Bayard and the cardinal, all the
efforts made by those who believed in me, seemed to be swept away as
dust in the wind. Almost did I feel that I would accept the ban cast
on me, and turn wolf in earnest. It cost me much to restrain myself
from drawing on Hawkwood, but a glance at the still pale face before
me recalled me to my duty. A man very kindly brought me a little wine,
I knelt down and forced some of it between her blue lips. In a short
time she revived, some colour came into her cheeks, and she attempted
to rise, with a look of fear on her face at the number of armed men
she saw around her.
"There is nothing to fear, madam," I said to reassure her, "you are
safe, and in an hour will be at St. Jerome--a litter is being made
ready for you."
Without a word she held out her hand, and thanked me with this and the
look in her eyes.
The litter was now ready, half-a-dozen men volunteered their services,
and placing her therein, we started for the convent. Ere we had gone
half a mile we heard shouts behind us, and I was more than glad to see
Jacopo and my men riding up.
"How did you get off?" I asked as they came up.
"In the rear of the troop from Magione, excellency," was Jacopo's
reply, "they did not observe us, having eyes only for you; and seeing
you were safe, we forded the stream lower down and crossed--but,
excellency, your face--are you hurt?"
"Somewhat, but at St. Jerome I will have it attended to."
In truth the left side of my face appeared to be laid open, and
although I felt that the wound was not so dangerous as it seemed, yet
I had bled freely, and now that the excitement was over, began to
suffer much pain. Indeed at times I felt as if I could hardly hold
myself straight in the saddle, succeeding in doing so only by an
effort of will. I did not approach the litter. I was afraid that the
sight of my face would alarm Angiola, for now she was probably able to
look about her, and see that which she had not been able to observe
before. Once, however, in a bend of the road, that fortunately went to
the left and hid my wounded side, our eyes met, and I caught so bright
a smile of thanks, that it paid me for my hurt. I reined in, for I
knew my face showed too much, and henceforth kept well behind. I sent
Gian on to the convent with the good news of Angiola's rescue, and on
nearing the gates was met by St. Armande and the rest of my followers,
whom I was glad indeed to see.
He came up with a merry greeting. "Welcome," he cried, "so, gallant
knight, you have saved the damsel in distress;" then catching sight of
my wounded face his tone changed. "Good God! you are hurt."
"A little."
"You should have it seen to at once--come--we are not allowed to enter
the convent; but the abbess has done all she can for us, and we camp
or lodge, whichever way you put it, in that house there," he pointed
to a small villa, set in what seemed a wilderness of holm-oak that hid
all but its roof from view.
"Not so fast, chevalier. I must leave my charge at the convent first."
He had to rest satisfied with this, but I was surprised that he made
no inquiry as to the condition of Angiola, an ordinary civility that
might have been expected.
At the gates of the convent, within which we were not allowed to
enter, we were met by the lady abbess and her train. I dismounted,
intending to assist Angiola out of the litter, but as it was set down,
she sprang out of it of her own accord, and the next minute she was in
the arms of the abbess, and there was much kissing and many
congratulations, mingled with tears of joy.
I did not stay to receive the thanks I saw would shortly be showered
on me, and thrusting a handful of crowns into the hands of the leader
of the good fellows who bore the litter, as some reward for himself
and his men, I looped Castor's reins into my arm, and set forward to
walk to the villa. The chevalier came with me, and by the time I
reached it I was quite giddy, being weak with the pain and the loss of
blood. The saturnine old abbe was there, with more concern in his face
than I had seen for a long time, and seeing me stagger, he put an arm
round me and, aided by St. Armande, assisted me to a couch. The
chevalier himself dressed my wound, with a gentle and skilful hand,
making as much of me as if I had been run through the vitals. As he
finished dressing the wound, the abbe remarked that I would have to
rest for a few days to enable it to heal, and I had replied with some
difficulty, my jaw being bandaged up, that this was impossible, when
Gian came in with a note. It was from Angiola, chiding me gently for
not waiting to receive her thanks and those of the abbess, and begging
me to come the following day, with a postscript to the effect that the