The Honour of Savelli Part 33
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"Very well," he said, and taking a large key from his girdle, went on before me.
It cost me a great effort to keep cool, up to now my luck had been so great that every moment there was a temptation to put all to the hazard of one stroke. I smiled, under my beard, as I thought of the imposing fool Count Carlo had placed in charge of his prize, and when I saw the huge shaking hand clutching the key, I could not help thinking that nerves like that would never hold a sword straight, and that for all his size and courage, the cavaliere was not a very formidable foe.
In a few steps we reached the door he wanted, and Baglioni, after knocking once, simply turned the key and pushed open the door.
Looking over his shoulder I saw a small but well-furnished room, and standing in the middle of it, in startled surprise at this sudden intrusion, the figure of Angiola. Quick as thought I made a warning gesture, and almost at the moment Baglioni turned round with--
"A visitor for you, madam."
She did not seem to recognise me, but at the warning gesture I made, a faint flush came into her cheek. She stood looking at us half frightened, half indignant, and at last spoke.
"I do not recognise----"
"Ugo di Savelli, madam," and I bowed.
Her lips curled a little as she answered--
"Well, Messer Ugo di Savelli--Cavaliere Ugo di Savelli I should say--is it not so? May I ask your business? If it is any message from your master, I decline to hear it," and she turned away with a motion of supreme disdain, thinking no doubt that I was a follower of Count Carlo.
"Ho! ho!" laughed Baglioni, at my look of discomfiture, "the future countess can speak her mind. I pity Carlo. You had best cut short your five minutes, cavaliere, and come back to the cards."
At this moment I heard the bear whining below, impatient for his master, and I knew his bonds were all too slender to hold him. There was nothing for it, but to save Angiola in spite of herself. All this happened in a flash, and with my full strength I hit Baglioni below the left ear, just where the neck and head united. So sudden, so unexpected was the blow, that the huge man rolled over like an ox, and a short shrill scream broke from Angiola. My sword was out in a moment, and I stood over Baglioni.
"A cry, a movement, and I kill you like a dog," I gasped out, my breath coming thick and fast; "throw the key to the lady--pick it up, girl--quick--now run to the door and stand there--I am here to save you." It was done at once, for Baglioni saw he must obey or die, and springing back, I closed the door quickly and turned the key. Almost as I did so, I heard footsteps hurrying below, and blew loudly on my whistle. The sound of the whistle was followed by an angry shouting that was drowned by a terrible roar, and I saw Pluto before me, rus.h.i.+ng up the stair, with the end of his broken chain still hanging to him. Baglioni was battering at the door behind me. He was safe enough, but my companion had dropped in a faint, and I wanted all my hands and all my nerve to meet the beast, who was now on the stairway, not ten feet away from me. Close to me was a heavy stool, I seized this, and flung it at the animal with all my strength, and getting between his forefeet, it caused him to stumble and slip back a half-dozen steps; but with another roar Pluto gathered himself together, and rushed up again, his jaws agape, and white with foam. I gave him the point deep into his neck. It might have been a pinp.r.i.c.k, and he dented the steel with his teeth. Rising to his feet, he struck at me, tearing my short cloak clean off my shoulders, and then, my sword was up to the hilt in his side, and we grappled. My left cheek was once touched by his claws, and seemed to be hanging in ribbons; but although almost blinded with blood, and choked by his f[oe]tid breath, I held my head well down, and drove my dagger again and again into the beast. Angiola had recovered from her faint, and above the grunting of the bear, the battering at the door, and the clash of steel below, I heard her laughing in shrill hysterics. My strength was failing. I was about to give up all for lost, when there was a loud report, and with a howl the bear fell backwards. My hand somehow fastened itself to the hilt of my sword, sticking in the animal's side, and the weight of him, as he fell back, and as I shook myself clear, freed the blade. I stood half dazed, watching the huge black body sliding limply down the stairs, until it lay in a shapeless heap on the landing. Jacopo's voice brought me to myself.
"For the love of G.o.d--quick, excellency--quick!"
G.o.d, I suppose, gives men strength sometimes, for his own purposes.
And so it must have been with me, for I picked my dear up in my arms, and half giddy, and staggering, made my way to the entrance door. I need not say I had no time to look about me; but Jacopo helped me with my burden. Lifting her to the pommel of the saddle, I sprang up behind, and drawing my darling close to me, with a shout of triumph, I set free my plunging horse and let him go with a loose rein.
CHAPTER XXII.
THE RIDE TO ST. JEROME.
We galloped at a break-neck pace to the gate, but the guard was already alarmed, and half-a-dozen men came hastening towards us.
They were on foot, however, and had no mind to stand the shock of meeting horses coming at full speed down an incline, so skipped nimbly aside. The officer alone held his ground, paying for his courage with his life, for Bande Nere sliced his head in two like a ripe water-melon--poor wretch. Had they only closed the gates we were lost, but we reached them just in time, and pa.s.sing through like a flash were free of the town. A bullet or two whizzed past us, but did no damage. It was done, and another half hour of the pace we were going would place us beyond pursuit. It was no easy matter, however, to sit the horse and hold Angiola as I was doing, and I very soon began to feel that the strain on my arm was getting beyond me, and that she was slipping from my grasp. She lay still and pa.s.sive, her eyes closed, her head resting on my shoulder, and seemed in a faint.
Perhaps I spoke roughly, but it was no time to mince words.
"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 flas.h.i.+ng 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 G.o.d'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 swis.h.i.+ng along in a white flood, and on the opposite sh.o.r.e 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 rea.s.sure 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 G.o.d! 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.
The Honour of Savelli Part 33
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The Honour of Savelli Part 33 summary
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