The Honour of Savelli: A Romance
should have disclosed St. Armande's identity to me. Now I knew it, it
was all so simple and clear, that I wondered at my denseness in not
having guessed through the disguise before. Now that I had discovered
it however, now that my blindness was cured, what was I to do? I
resolved on keeping the secret I had probed, and never once letting
St. Armande know he was other than what he pretended to be. A great
pity came up in my heart, for there was a time when I almost thought I
loved this woman, and it required little conceit to see, after what
had happened, that madame was prepared to make almost any sacrifice
for my sake. I was sorry, more sorry than I can tell, for I knew my
own hands were not clean in this matter, and I paced up and down,
flinging bitter reproaches at myself, and utterly at a loss to plan
out some way of escaping from the difficulty in which I was placed. I
made up my mind that St. Armande, as I will still speak of the
disguised chevalier, should be placed in no danger, resolving that as
soon as the affair on which we were engaged was over, that I would
send him, or rather her, with a message to the cardinal, and the
message was to be one that, I hoped and trusted, would have the effect
of making madame cease her foolish prank--I had it at this moment
almost in my heart to be angry with her; but I could not, for the
small voice that kept whispering to me--
"Thou art not free from blame." I was not; but nothing would induce me
to add another wrong to the one I had committed. That in itself was
sufficient to haunt me to the grave, and I shivered as I thought of
the abbe's words, "It is what one carries beyond the grave that the
Signor Cavaliere should think of."
So alternately reproaching myself, and praying for aid, prayers that
brought no relief, I passed the night, and in the small hours of the
morning stole back into the castle. Round the fire in the great hall,
the figures of my followers were stretched, all but one, who kept
watch, but recognising me did not challenge. I passed by softly, and
entered the other room. The abbe had dropped asleep over his breviary,
the lamp burning low beside him.
Rolled in a cloak, and half reclining against a saddle, St. Armande
was in a profound slumber. I took the lamp in my hand, and holding it
aloft, surveyed the sleeping figure. A last hope had come to my mind
that I was mistaken, that perhaps I was jumping too quickly to
conclusions. But no, there was not a doubt of it. There could be no
mistaking that fair face with its delicate features, the straight
nose, the curved bow of the lips, half hidden under its disguise, the
small shapely head with its natural curls of short golden hair--oh! I
knew all these too well. It was Doris d'Entrangues without shadow of
doubt, and no blind beggar, who groped his way through a life-long
darkness, was blinder than I had been. I set down the lamp softly, and
with a sick heart stepped back into the hall, where I found room for
myself until the morning, which indeed it was already. With the
sunrise, I was awakened from a fitful sleep by hearing Bande Nere's
voice.
"What news?" I asked as I drew the old soldier aside.
"I have been as far as Sinigaglia, excellency, and all goes well. The
party left Sinigaglia the morning I arrived, and I followed in their
track, letting them keep well ahead of me to avoid suspicion. Last
night, however, I passed them. They will be here about noon, maybe a
little before."
"The numbers?"
"Ten lances, excellency, for escort. It is those we have to deal with.
Then there are about a score of mounted servants, four laden mules,
and Monsignore Bozardo."
"_Um!_ That is rather strong, if the servants carry weapons."
"But they march as through a friendly country, signore, the servants
going on ahead to prepare for Monsignore's arrival. He himself keeps
close to the mules, with one or two men, and of course the escort."
"Do you know who commands the escort?"
"No, excellency--I did not wish to risk anything, and asked no
questions."
"You are right, and have done well--here are ten crowns."
"Your excellency is generosity itself."
"It is not more than you deserve. Go and get something to eat now, and
take as much rest as you can within the next hour."
"Excellency," and Bande Nere stepped back to join his fellows, who
surrounded him with eager questions, and there was a bustling and a
buckling-to of arms and armour.
When we met a little later my face showed no signs of my discovery to
St. Armande, and whilst we breakfasted together I told him that the
time was come for which we had been waiting.
"Remember your promise," he said with an affected gaiety, but his
voice nearly broke down and I saw the abbe glance at him with a deep
compassion.
"I will not forget," I answered, "but God grant there may be no need
to keep it."
"I should say 'Amen' to that," he answered, "only I cannot."
My plans were already made, and as soon as we had breakfasted we set
forth from the castle. The road, as I have already explained, ascended
abruptly a short distance from the base of the rock on which the
castle was perched. Between the base of the rock and the road was a
narrow but thick belt of forest, which afforded admirable concealment,
and here we posted ourselves secure from all view. The abbe and St.
Armande insisted on accompanying us, and in order to put the chevalier
from harm I placed him a little way up the rock, with instructions to
charge down as soon as he heard my whistle, which I never intended to
blow. The abbe took his station beside him, saying where the chevalier
was it was his duty to be. St. Armande held out a small hand to me as
I was turning away, and I took it gently for a moment in mine. The
quick impulsive movement reminded me much of that day when madame had
held the flowers I gathered to her husband's face. Something almost
choked me as I turned away hastily, having only strength to repeat my
warning--
"Do not move till you hear my whistle."
I borrowed an arquebus from one of my men, and the arrangement was
that we were to charge out after a volley, the first shot of which I
was to fire. All being now ready, it was only necessary for us to
wait. I would merely add that in order to prevent discovery by the
neighing of the horses, we had muzzled ours as far as possible. There
was now a dead silence, that was only broken by the rustle of the
leaves overhead, an occasional crack amongst the dry boughs as a
squirrel moved against them, or the uneasy movement of a horse, which
caused a clink of a chain-bit, and a straining sound made by the
leathers of the saddlery, that was not in reality so loud as it
seemed; but caused Jacopo and Bande Nere to scowl fiercely at the
unfortunate rider, a scowl which was only equalled by their own
stolidly impassive faces, when their own beasts sinned. We had not
long to wait; presently we heard voices shouting, the clatter of
horses trotting, a rapid reining in at the ascent, and a number of
followers and lackeys, some mounted on horses, others on mules, with
led mules beside them, came past, and went on, heedless of the eager
faces watching them through the trees. One or two of our horses became
so uneasy that I was afraid of immediate discovery, but so occupied
were the knaves in babbling together, all at once, that what with
this, and the thwacking of their animals, and in some cases the
efforts to remain on, we remained unnoticed. Then there was a short
interval, and the suspense was strained to breaking point. In a while
we heard the firm beat of a war-horse's hoof, and our quarry came in
view. First came Monsignore Bozardo, a tall thin man, wrapped in a
purple cloak, with a fur cap on his head. He rode a strong ambling
mule, and by his side was the commander of the escort. Immediately
behind were four troopers, then the mules with the ducats, behind
these again six other lances, whilst the rear was brought up by
half-a-dozen lackeys, without a sword amongst them. But what struck me
almost dumb with surprise was that the leader of the escort was none
other than D'Entrangues himself. There could be no mistake, his visor
was up, and I saw the sallow face, the long red moustaches, and almost
caught the cold glint of his cruel eye. At last! I raised my arquebus
and covered him. At last! But a touch of my finger and the man was
dead. I could not miss, my heart was mad within me, but my wrist as
firm as steel. In another moment he would be dead, dead, and my
revenge accomplished. It was already in my hand. I looked aside for a
second at the line of breathless faces watching me, then back again to
the muzzle of my weapon. D'Entrangues was now not twenty yards away. I
could scarcely breathe as I pointed the arquebus at his heart. I had
already begun to press the trigger, when something seemed to come
across my mind like lightning. I saw in a moment that lonely room in
the Albizzi Palace, where I had kneeled to my God and sworn to put
aside my vengeance. The weapon shook in my grasp.
"Fire, signore," whispered Jacopo hoarsely.
With an effort I jerked the muzzle in the air, and pulled the trigger.
The report was followed by four others, and two of the troopers fell.
The next moment we were on them with a shout, and there was the clash
of steel, as fierce blows were struck and received, now and again a
short angry oath, and sometimes a cry of pain. I did not want to take
life, but a trooper came at me, so I had to run him through the heart,
and the man fell forward under Castor's hoofs, with a yell I shall
never forget. The next instant D'Entrangues and I crossed blades, and
whether he recognised me or not I do not know, but he fought with a
skill and fierceness I have never seen equalled. At last I lost my
temper, and cut savagely at him. He parried on the forte of his blade,
but so furious was the stroke that it broke the weapon in his hand,
and almost unhorsed him. Reining back skilfully he avoided another cut
I made at him, and drawing a wheel lock pistol from his holster, fired
it straight at me. At the flash, someone dashed between us. I heard a
scream which froze the blood in me, and a body lurched forwards and
fell to my side, whilst a riderless horse plunged through the press,
and galloped away. I saw the light of the golden head as it fell, and
forgetting everything, forgetting D'Entrangues, forgetting all but the
fact that a dreadful deed was done, I sprang down from Castor, and
raised St. Armande in my arms. As I did this a hoarse yell from my men
told me the day was won; but I had no ears for this, no eyes for
anything, except the slight figure, which lay in my arms gasping out
its life.
"Congratulations, signore, we have taken the lot," and Jacopo,
bleeding and dusty, rode up beside me.
"At too great a price," I groaned; "help me to carry----," I could say
no more.
"Here, two of you secure those mules--Bande Nere, see to the
wounded--Queen of Heaven--the chevalier----" and Jacopo, giving his
sharp orders, sprang down beside me, and together we bore our
unconscious burden under the shadow of the oaks. A dark figure stepped
to our side, and kneeling down supported the lifeless head on his arm,
whilst hot tears fell from his eyes, as he prayed over her. It was the
abbe.
"How did this happen?" I asked, "did I not say you were not to move?"
"It was done at once," he answered, "I could not prevent it--alas! How
can I carry this tale back to St. Armande?"
"Water, excellency."
Jacopo had brought some clear water in his helmet. I thanked him with
a look, and he stepped back, leaving us three together, two who were
living, and one who was going away.
I bathed the forehead and drawn lips, from which flowed a thin stream