The next day as the big gun from the citadel boomed out the twelfth hour, and all the bells of the town clanged forth the time, five horsemen rode through the gate of St. Angelo, whose doors were spread wide open. The single sentry on duty paced sleepily up and down, he was longing for his noontide siesta, and the guard of a half-score of Baglioni's lances, lay with their armour off, basking in the mellow sun. A subaltern officer, who had evidently dined to some purpose, reclined on his back, half in half out of the shade of a few olive trees that grew to the left of the gate, and the ruby on his cheeks showed up all the brighter against the green of the grass on which he was stretched. The horsemen were myself and my four followers. We had taken the route I went the day before with Gian, and the plan I had formed was this. On my gaining admittance to the house, Jacopo and Bande Nere were to put themselves at the door, and engage the guard there in conversation. Gian and the lackey were to hold the horses. As soon as I ascertained the position of Angiola's room, I would blow shrilly on a whistle I had purchased for the purpose. My men at the door, who were armed with arquebuses as well as their swords, would hold the passage, and I should try and account for the Cavaliere Paolo and bear off the prize. If we succeeded, we could easily make the gate, and then, the road to St. Jerome lay open before us. The fact that the attempt was to be made in broad daylight too would be a safeguard, as no one would deem that such a deed, usually done under cover of night, was to be adventured at this hour. I had partly paved the way for my entrance by my call of yesterday, and was provided with a sufficiently plausible story to keep the cavaliere engaged, whilst I took stock of his surroundings. Jacopo too had been carefully drilled as to how he was to announce me, and the question resolved itself into hard hitting, and a little luck. I had dressed myself with particular care, wearing my buff-coat under a gay jerkin, and a short velvet cloak hung from my shoulders. This almost gala attire was to act as a further blind, and give all the appearance of a mere visit of ceremony. There was of course the possibility of my being refused admittance, and of the Cavaliere Paolo declining to see me; but this was not probable, and if it did happen, I was ready for a bold stroke, and for this Bande Nere carried with him a grenade with which to blow open the door. As it turned out, however, we had no difficulty on this score. On reaching the house I glanced up, and saw a face peering at us through the caging of one of the windows above; but it was almost immediately withdrawn. Jacopo dismounted and knocked firmly. The same performance, I have described, of opening a grating was gone through, but on my name being mentioned the porter shut his peep-hole, there was the sound of the removal of a bar, the clank of chains, and the door swung open with a sullen groan, disclosing a hall, in which stood two men, completely armed, their arquebuses at the ready in their hands, whilst the doorkeeper himself, a sturdy knave, stood full in the entrance, swinging a bunch of keys.
"Is the Cavaliere Paolo Baglioni within?" I asked as I dismounted, taking it for granted I was to be received, from the preparation I saw was made.
"He is, signore--be pleased to follow."
With a warning glance to Jacopo I stepped in, finding myself in a hall of middle size, the walls discoloured with age, and chipped and cracked in many places--clearly the Casino Baglioni needed repairs. At the end of the hall was a spiral staircase, whose stone steps, worn to a hollow in the middle, by the passing and repassing of feet, marked its great age. Up this narrow stairway I followed the man, until we reached a corridor, hung on each side with rusty suits of armour, and old and tattered banners. The place was very damp, and there was a musty smell about it, as if no pure air ever came that way. It was evident that the cavaliere was on the alert, for a man was on guard here, armed like those below, with sword and arquebus. To him my guide addressed himself.
"He has come," he said, jerking his thumb backwards at me.
"Well, announce him," said the sentinel.
"That is for you," answered the janitor, "I had enough of Pluto this morning." With this he turned on his heel and ran back downstairs, jingling his keys.
The sentry stood still, however, and after waiting for half a minute, I spoke, my blood rising a little within me.
"Will you be good enough to announce the Cavaliere di Savelli--on an urgent affair?"
The man turned round to a closed door behind him, rapping at it with his mailed hand. From inside I heard a shuffling noise, a heavy body lurched against the door, and there was a scratching at the wood. No answer, however, came to the knock.
"Knock again," I said, a little impatiently, and this time a deep voice called out--
"Enter."
I placed my hand on the door to open it when the sentry spoke with unexpected civility.
"Take care of the beast, signore!"
"The beast--what beast?" I asked, pretending not to know anything of Pluto's existence.
"His excellency's bear--do not fear it--else it might injure you--cospetto! But it is a perfect fiend if you run from it. It killed a poor woman the other day."
"Thanks, friend, I will beware," I answered, and pushed open the door, springing back a yard as I did so, for with a short roar that echoed through the house, a huge bear rose on his hind legs, and struck out at my face with his claws.
"Diavolo! go back," shouted the sentry to the brute, and I whipped out my sword; but the animal merely stood in the open doorway, making no further advance, his great jaws open, and puffing like a blacksmith's bellows.
"Cospetto! excellency, call off the bear," shouted the sentry again, indeed he seemed positively to hate the animal, and from inside came a low deep-toned but mocking laugh. "Come back, Pluto--down, you brute--down!" then there was a heavy "thud," the tinkling of shivered glass, and the bear dropping on its fore feet, shambled back into the room. I was considerably startled, and not a little angry; but concealing these feelings, stepped boldly into the room, keeping my drawn sword still in my hand.
"The Cavaliere di Baglioni?" I enquired.
"At the Cavaliere di Savelli's service," and a tall figure rose from a lounge chair and surveyed me. I confess that my heart began to beat a little fast when I saw the man against whom I was to pit myself. He was far above the middle height, and proportionately broad. His grizzled hair, parted in the middle, hung down straightly to his neck, and a thick grey beard and moustache hid his mouth and chin. A cruel hooked nose, almost Hebraic in shape, was set between a pair of small and piercing eyes. His complexion was deathly pale, and by the light which fell from the barred window, I saw beneath the skin the little red lines of swollen veins which marked an intemperate life. At a small table beside the chair was a pack of cards, and a glass half filled with red wine, the bottle from which the wine was taken was lying in fragments at the door, where it had fallen and broken to bits, after being flung at Pluto. The bear was now beside his master, facing me, his huge head held down and swaying from side to side. We remained for a half minute staring at each other, and then Baglioni spoke again, with his deep sneering accent, "Is it usual for the Cavaliere di Savelli to pay visits with a drawn sword in his hand?"
"Is it usual," I replied, "for gentlemen to be received by having a savage beast set at them?"
"Oh, Pluto!" and he touched the bear, "Pluto was not set at you, man--you would not be here if he was."
"Probably--if however you will call the beast to one side, I would like to discuss my business with you, cavaliere."
"Shut the door, and sit down there," he replied, "Pluto will not disturb us--you can put back your sword. It would avail you little," he grinned.
It cost me an effort, but I did as I was bidden, and Baglioni sank back into his lounge, the bear still standing, and keeping its fierce eyes on me. Its master however kept running his hand up and down its shaggy coat, whilst he asked in his measured voice--
"Well, and to what do I owe the honour of this visit?"
"You would prefer no beating about the bush?"
"It is my way."
"Well, then, cavaliere, I have come from Rome with a special object, and that is to ask you to change sides, and to use your influence with your cousin, Count Carlo, to do likewise."
"I follow the head of my house."
"Exactly. You are aware that His Holiness is now over seventy years of age."
"The lambkin of God, Alexander--yes."
"Well, he cannot go on for ever, and if he were to die, it is an end to the Borgia."
"Ho! ho!" he laughed, "it is an end to the Borgia--Cavaliere, your employers are mad. It will take not a little to break Cesare--Cesare Borgia, Duke of Romagna, Imola and Faenza, Marquis of Rimini, Count of Forli, Lord of Pesaro and Fano, Gonfaloniere of the Church--good for a low-born bastard--eh? Ho! ho! break Cesare! Not you."
"Stronger trees have fallen, signore--remember we have France, and the Florentines on our side, and twenty thousand men, under Tremouille and Trevulzio, are not twenty miles from you."
I was playing a risky game. If I did succeed in inducing this man to listen to my proposals, and he actually persuaded his cousin to do likewise, it would be a terrible blow to the Borgia. On the other hand I ran the immediate risk of being arrested, and kept a prisoner, or killed outright. But it was the only way to gain time, and look about me; and whilst Baglioni reflectively stroked his strange pet, making no reply to my last speech, I glanced cautiously but carefully around the room. Like the passage outside, the walls were hung with old armour and old flags. Time had defaced the pictures on the ceiling, and such furniture as there was, was old, and the coverings of the chairs and tables moth-eaten and wine stained. The stale odour of wine mingled with the must of a long untouched room, and everywhere, on the tables, on the chairs, and strewn here and there on the floor, were cards. Evidently the cavaliere had a weakness in this direction, and like lightning it flashed upon me, that if he were a gambler the game was probably in my hands, and I would drop policy and turn to the cards. My thoughts were interrupted by Baglioni, who broke the silence. "What evidence have you, to show you are the person you represent yourself to be?"
"I can offer you none. In matters like this one does not carry evidence about--but if you like to send a trusted messenger to Rome, to the Cardinal d'Amboise--see the reception he will get--or nearer still to Tremouille?"
"And why come to me?"
"Because of your influence with your cousin, and because you are a man who will play for a big stake," and I risked the shot. His eyes flashed, and his hand stopped in its movement through the fur of the bear.
"My influence with my cousin is--that," he snapped his fingers, "but a big stake--yes--I like playing for big stakes."
I stooped and picked up a card, holding it idly up between my finger and thumb.
"This, what I propose, is a bigger stake than you could ever get on the king, cavaliere," and with a twist of my wrist I sent the card from me, it hit the wall opposite with a smart tap, and then floated slowly and noiselessly down to the floor of the room.
The man's eyes followed the card, and he muttered as if to himself--
"A big stake--yes--Carlo gives me nothing--I am his jailor--I, who in a single night have lost two lordships to Riario, have now not a ducat to fling in the air, except what the niggard allows me."
I did not like the part I was playing; but I knew enough of the state of affairs to be certain that D'Amboise would richly reward the person who could detach Baglioni from the Borgia. I said no more than the truth therefore when I added quietly--
"You would have another lordship, or two maybe, to stake, if my proposal were carried out."
"Cospetto!" he said, "it is useless."
"Then I am sorry," I replied, rising as if to depart, "but must wish you good day."
"Diavolo! Cavaliere, you are not going without some refreshment. Ho! without there," and his deep voice pealed out like a great bell.
The bear, which had stretched itself on the floor, rose with a grunt, but Baglioni pressed its head down, and it sank back, and began to hum to itself between its paws, like an enormous bee, or rather with the sound a thousand bees might make.
After a little delay there was a knock at the door, but apparently, as usual, the person outside, whoever he was, did not feel disposed to come in. My host rose in anger, and stepped across the room, followed by his beast, the latter passing unpleasantly close to me.
There was an altercation at the door, my host went out with his pet, and for a minute or two I was left alone. I moved my seat nearer to the small table beside Baglioni's lounge, and taking up the pack of cards began to shuffle and cut them.
The cavaliere came back very soon, a flask in one hand and a glass in the other.
"Blood of St. John!" he exclaimed as he set them down with a clink on the table, "those rascals--I will have their ears cut off--they fear this poor lamb," and he fondled the great bear, which rose on its hind feet and began muzzling its master.
"I am not surprised. Corpo di Bacco! The king again!" and I flung down the pack in apparent disgust.
"Down, Pluto!" and Baglioni turned to me, "The king again. What was that you said?"
"Cutting left hand against the right. I lost three times."
"I lost ten thousand one night over cutting--but help yourself," and he pushed the flask towards me, and then filled his own, which he drained at a gulp.
"Come, cavaliere--you are in no hurry--cut me through the pack."
"With pleasure; but my purse-bearer is downstairs--will you permit me to see him?"
"By all means--the heavier the purse the better for me."
"A favour--I cannot play with that beast near me--could you not send him away?"
"Send him away--my familiar," he said with an awful smile, "No, no, Di Savelli--he is my luck; but I shall keep him at a distance if you like."
I rose and went down to Jacopo, and found him and Bande Nere already on friendly terms with the guard. I took my purse from him, and found time to whisper a warning to strike the moment he heard my whistle. When I came back, I was relieved to find the bear fastened by a chain to a ring in the wall. The chain itself was weak, and could have been snapped with ease, but the animal made no effort to strain at it, and lay down as contentedly as a dog. Baglioni had pulled a table into the centre of the room, and was seated at it, impatiently ruffling the cards.
"Back at last," he said, and his voice had lost its measured cadence, "heavens, I have not spread the cards for a whole year--what stakes?"
"Simply cutting the cards?"
"Yes. It is the quickest game I know."
"Say a crown each turn to begin with."
We cut through four times, and I paid over two crowns. Baglioni laughed as he put them on one side, "peddling stakes these, cavaliere--make them ten crowns a cut."
"Agreed--three cuts and a shuffle."
He nodded, and I paid ten crowns, feeling at this rate that my purse would soon be empty; but I saw that the fever was taking hold of him, and offered to double the stakes and won. From that moment luck favoured me, and at the end of half an hour's play the cavaliere had lost all his ready money, about sixty crowns, and owed me five hundred besides. He did not take his losses well, all the restrained self-command which he first exhibited, gave place to a wild excitement, and his hands shook as he shuffled the cards, his white face paling whiter than ever.
"Curse the cards!" he said, "I have no luck."
The moment had come for which I had been watching. Time after time I felt inclined to strike a sudden blow; but held myself in.
"No more to-day, cavaliere," I said, filling my glass, "I have business and must away."
A red flush came to his forehead, "I cannot pay you at once," he said in a low tone.
"Tush!" I replied, "the word of Baglioni is enough--but if you want a last try for your revenge, I will cut you----"
"Double or quits?" he burst in.
"No, cavaliere," and I dropped the words out slowly, "the five hundred against a five minutes' interview with the Lady Angiola."
He leaned back in his chair in amaze, and I went on, "Listen to me, I only want five minutes' speech with her--in your presence if you will--come, shall I cut or will you?"
"Diavolo!" he muttered, "if Carlo hears of this--well, yes--I will cut first--the ten--a bad card to beat."
I cut carelessly, and faced my card. It was a king.
"Hell and Furies!" he burst out. "You have won. Come, sir," and rising he advanced towards the bear.
"A moment, cavaliere. I said in your presence. I did not include Messer Pluto there in the interview."
He gave me an unpleasant look; but stopped short.
"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, rushing 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 pinprick, 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 God--quick, excellency--quick!"
God, 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.
