The Honour of Savelli Part 20

"You must come as a simple volunteer, and must make no enquiry as to what the business is on which I am engaged. I risk my life for my own purposes; if you wish to do likewise you are welcome to join me, on the condition I have just stated."

"I accept with pleasure."

"Then that is settled, and I have a new comrade."

"Hurrah!" and he raised his gla.s.s to his lips.

After that he retired, it being late. I saw him across the courtyard as far as his apartments, and then returning to my rooms, unconsciously took the chair St. Armande had vacated. The goblet of wine he had filled was before me, and I idly lifted it in my hand. It was barely touched. In fact he could but have tasted a few drops only.

Like lightning a suspicion of treachery came on me. The man had been pretending to drink. With what object? I could not make out. Was the offer of the money a blind? Perhaps so, and if then? I had been a fool to agree to his joining me, with that sour-looking abbe of his. Yes, I had been a fool, but it was lucky I discovered my own folly in time. I should keep my eyes on this silken diplomat, and if necessary pick a quarrel with him, and run him through. Somehow I did not like the idea of this, however; but determined to get rid of him in one way or the other. I would allow nothing to stand between me and the road back to honour. So musing I sat for a half-hour or so, and was startled by Jacopo's sudden entry, so lost was I in thought. He came and stood, bolt upright, next to my chair, without saying a word. I knew from this that he had some request to make, some favour to ask, as otherwise he would not have hesitated to make play with his tongue at once.

"What is it Jacopo?"

He s.h.i.+fted uneasily from one foot to the other, and then replied--

"Your excellency, I want leave."

"Leave! What for? You are not going to be married, are you?"

"Heaven and the saints forbid, excellency. No--no--it is not that, it is only leave for the day I want, and also for our men."

"The devil! What are you going to do?"

"Only a little dinner, excellency, which I am giving."

"And wasting those crowns you got the other day. Well, that is your affair, not mine. Yes, you can have the leave."

"A hundred thanks, excellency."

"Mind you, there must be no brawling, no trouble."

"Excellency."

"Well, good night, and remember what I say. Here, you might remove this wine-cup as you go."

"Good-night, signore," and Jacopo, lifting the goblet, went out. The night being fairly warm, I kept my door open, and as he pa.s.sed into the portico, I saw him drain the contents of the goblet with a gulp, and heard him draw his lips together with a smack of approval, and march off to his quarters, chuckling at something or other.

The following afternoon I rode out with Bayard and half-a-dozen others. It was a hawking party, and there was a long gallop to our point of operation, which was to begin a little way beyond Ponte Molle. In a short time we started a n.o.ble heron, and Bayard flinging his peregrine into the air, we rode after the birds. It was a glorious ride, and Castor and Pollux far outstripped the others, so much so that when we drew rein beside the stricken heron, and Bayard slipped the hood on to his hawk, our companions were not in sight. This, however, troubled us little, and turning rein we made backwards. On our way back I seized the opportunity to mention to Bayard that St.

Armande had volunteered to aid me in my task, and that I had accepted his offer.

"It will do him good," he said; "he seems a n.o.ble youth, who has been tied too long to ap.r.o.n-strings."

"Do you think so?" I said; "he strikes me as being effeminate to a degree--and yet I cannot help liking him."

"He has a wonderful pure mind," said Bayard; "the boy, for he is no less, is as innocent as a child."

"The Vatican will not improve him then, especially if he plays for gold crowns with Colonna."

"Plays for gold crowns!" exclaimed Bayard; "you are surely mistaken, cavaliere."

"Did he not do so last night, my lord? I understood he won three hundred off Fabrizio?"

"Impossible," said Bayard, "I was at the Vatican last night, and the party in which Colonna was playing consisted of Strigonia, Monsignore Florido, our Lord the Pope, and Colonna himself--no more. St. Armande was standing hard at hand for some little time, but never took a wager. In fact, he pa.s.sed most of the evening with Giulia Bella, thrumming on a lute, much to the annoyance of his holiness. I should say it would be well for him to quit Rome."

"Then I am wrong," I said; "yes, I fancy it would be well for him to quit Rome."

By this time the others came up, and we said no more. As we went back to Rome, I dropped a little behind, reflecting on what Bayard had told me. It was certain that St. Armande had lied to me, and I began to feel sure he had done this not for my good. In short, it seemed to me that this innocent looking boy, with his shy retiring manners and apparent want of knowledge of the world, was nothing more or less than an accomplished actor. Then again he was a Frenchman, and how came he, obviously fresh from France, to become an agent of the Medici plotters, for so I put him down to be? There were the letters from Madame de la Tremouille, his introductions were unimpeachable, the cardinal believed in him--the whole thing was contradictory. Above all, there was my strong personal liking for St. Armande. In his presence I never felt that secret warning which all men feel when they are with an enemy. I have never known it fail with me, and with St.

Armande there was no such warning, no such silent signal which goes straight from soul to soul. On the contrary, I felt he was almost more than friendly towards me, and I felt, in my turn towards him, despite our short acquaintance, very nearly the same protective feeling that one has towards a defenceless child. As may be imagined, I was in no very comfortable frame of mind about this, and rode back silently, revolving the point. When we reached the palace, almost the first person I met was St. Armande, and as I dismounted he came up to me with a cordial greeting and asked--

"Well, cavaliere, good sport I trust?"

"Very," I replied shortly, and then looked him straight in the face as I added, "Do you intend to give the Colonna his revenge to-night?"

Something in my tone caught him, he met my eyes for a moment, then dropped his gaze, and looked towards the ground. We stood thus before each other for a little time before he replied, and his voice was almost inaudible.

"Perhaps--I am not sure," he added with an effort.

I was standing, holding Castor's reins; but as he spoke I handed the horse over to a groom, and, linking my arm in St. Armande's, said loudly, and with a tone of affected gaiety:

"You missed a great ride, chevalier--come take a turn with me in the garden."

He yielded pa.s.sively, and in a few steps we had crossed the courtyard and were in a secluded portion of the palace gardens that was called the Lemon Walk. This I may add was subsequently improved out of existence by the architect, in the course of completion of the palace and grounds. When we reached this spot I unslipped my arm, and turning round faced St. Armande, having resolved to end my suspicions.

"See here, chevalier," I said, "I am playing for heavy stakes, I am walking on dangerous ground, and must know where I put my feet; will you answer a plain question, are you friend or foe?"

He looked round him in a helpless sort of way, his colour coming and going, but said nothing. Was it possible the man was a coward?

"If you do not reply," I said, "I will take the risk, and treat you as an enemy, do you hear? you lied to me when you said last night you had played at the Vatican with Colonna--now draw." I pulled out my weapon, and stood before him, expecting every instant to see his rapier in his hands; but he stood absolutely still, his head hanging down.

"Man," I said, "have you not heard? Am I to think you a coward as well as a liar?"

"How dare you say that!" he burst out. "You--you of all men--Oh! what am I saying! Yes, I did not play with Colonna; but I thought you were hard pressed for money, and--and invented the fiction, thinking that perhaps----"

"That perhaps I would accept your winnings over the gambling table, rather than the offer of a friend. You do me much honour, chevalier."

"You wrong me, Savelli,--nay, start not. I know your name and story, and, before heaven, I say I am your friend."

"You know me!"

"Yes, and am working for you; come, put by your sword. Look at me! Do I look like an enemy?"

He had recovered himself, and met my gaze fearlessly. Where could I have seen that face before? I drew my hand over my forehead as if to sweep the cobwebs from my memory, but with no avail.

"Well," he went on, with a smile, "do I look like an enemy? If I do, your sword is ready. Strike now, it will be a quick riddance, come!"

I put back my sword with a snap.

"I do not understand, but I accept your explanation."