"Reverend father," he said, "you are continent in diet and drink, as in all things else, I know; nevertheless, your vow forbids you not to touch wine for mere health's sake. Albeit we are neither of us in mood for feasting, a draught of this rare liquor may serve as a cordial now, to keep our hearts from fainting in their heaviness. Do me right, I pray you, in this one goblet." So Messer Marco took up the flagon; and with a steady hand poured out the precious liquor, that sparkled in the lamp-light, though it gurgled out slowly like oil. The monk drank with such fierce eagerness, that I doubt if a fly could have slaked its thirst from his empty goblet; but Messer Marco's was scarcely tasted when he set it down; he half concealed the cup with the broad sleeve of his mantlet, so that for a while Fra Rèmo noticed this not. "Now shall we be better able to speak of my loss,”—Vidoni said. "A cruel one, is it not, reverend father? And so cruelly sudden too! I fear me, I never prized aright my sainted Maddalena, while she tarried with me. Ah! she was too good for earth, and too gentle for one rude and unmannerly as I; yet, peradventure-I speak this humbly and under correction-it might have been better, if she had thought her husband's soul worth caring for when her own was safe; and if she had beckoned him sometimes to follow along the narrow path whereof you priests discourse, instead of letting him hurry down the broad road after his own devices." "Nay, nay, fair son "-the monk answered, huskily. "Wrong not so the dead, I beseech you. That devout lady was no less anxious, I well believe, for your eternal weal than for her own; and you were ever named in her prayers." My master's laugh was like the bark of an angered hound. "Then she had her own method of showing her carefulness, even as she had her own method of discharging wifely duty. You were her confessor, Fra Rèmo; wherefore you have not to learn that, for these years past, I have won from her neither favour nor mark of tenderness— more than sister might bestow on brother. Ay! even of such she waxed more niggard day by day. Yet I strove for her love harder than many men strive for heaven; and,-even when my mood seemed roughest, unless my brain were distraught by drink, I watched for some sign of softening or glance of pity, as one perishing of famine waits for the food that will never come. I deemed it mine own fault, for having mated myself with one far above my level; and tried to think it not strange that angels should keep their wings from soil ing. I well nigh laughed at first, when, two days agone, Giuseppe, my falconer, came to me with a strange tale. 'Tis a shrewd knave, though a sullen, and hath eyes like one of his own hawks-eyes, Fra Rèmo, that from the top of a high pine-tree can pierce even into a lady's bower. Ha! why look you so aghast? Can it be that your favourite penitent kept back somewhat at her last confession? Take another cup of Monte-pulciano. "Twill stop the fluttering of your pulse, may hap. 'Her last confession,' said I? No, no. Her last, you heard not; I will tell you why." My heart stopped beating,-as, looking through the keyhole, I saw the friar's face turn from sallow to ashen-grey, till its colour might have matched his robe. "What think you of my scheme ?" Messer Marco went on. "The maddest freak surely that ever crossed a drunkard's brain,—yet rare sport came of it. I knew that my pious dame purposed to attend at your church of San Francisco this morning-there, in your reverence's absence, to confess herself to Fra Anselmo. So I rode down, and lay in Gallano yesternight; and caused a fashioner with whom I have dealt to provide me with a Franciscan habit. Also, very early in the morning I caused a forged message to be conveyed to the said Fra Anselmo, bidding him set off instantly, to attend the death-bed of that wealthy and devout widow Catania Pratellesi. The holy man, unwitting of the more honourable penitent then on her road, went forth with speed. It repented me to beguile his age and infirmity; but there was no other way; and so only could I compass mine end. In my Franciscan's robe and cowl I lurked in shady corners of the church— peering out from the porch now and then-till my Maddalena's litter drew up at the gate. Then I slid stealthily into a certain confessional, and drew the bolt. So my wife came; and, finding the door shut, guessed that none other than Fra Anselmo could be within. And thus it came about that I heard Fra Rèmo, can you guess what I heard? Aha! There's blood enough in your cheeks now, even without a second draught of Monte-pulciano." In truth, a dark red flush had surged over the monk's face and brow, up to the tonsure. I thought the falling sickness was upon him as he stood up-rocking on his hands that rested on the table-with awful fear and rage in his staring eyes. Messer Marco rose up too, and with his strong arm, thrust the priest back rudely into his chair. "Sit down!" he went on, low through his teeth. "Sit down-or, by Christ's body! you shall feel my dagger-point. I have not yet said all my say. I noted that oftentimes she shrunk from my lawful caress as though it were taint. I learnt too, who it was that trained her to dishonour, taught her to carry her shame haughtily, and how to hoodwink her husband. I let her finish, and mumbled out something that passed for absolution-I doubt if it helps her much now-so she departed, lightened in spirit, and ready to sin again. I called her by no hard names when we met; cnly I prayed earnestly that she would sup with me. She did so to-night, and she drank of that same liquor which so tickled your palate. An hour later she lay within there; waiting-as she had done a score of times before, Fra Rèmo-waiting for you-cold as you found her. Ha! have I touched you more nearly now? And do you feel aught working in your veins-save Monte-pulciano a century old? Per Dio! You have rare luck : never an one in Sacred College hath tasted better liquor than that which brings you death-you a simple priest. Now, whether ye like it or not, you shall drain one more cup to the days that are gone, and your pleasant paramour. Ye will not? Nay then "-leaping up, he caught the monk by the throat. I could find no voice to scream; but I beat on the door till my hands bled, and made shift to call on my master by his name. If he heard, he heeded not; for he never turned his head nor shifted his knee or his hand after once he got the friar down. I could not take my eye from the keyhole, though the iron seemed to burn it. I could not faint either, or shut mine ears against the hard breathing, and the horrible choking gurgle, and the hoarse rattle that ended all. When at last Messer Marco rose, shaking himself, there lay on the floor, beyond, a ghastly tumbled grey heap; from which stretched out two sandalled feet, still quivering. After a pause, my master walked towards the door. The power to move came back to me then, in the very extremity of my fear; for I thought that he was angered at my watching, and was coming forth to slay me likewise. So I staggered to one of the windows-I know not how-and strove to hide myself under the curtains. Whilst I was cowering there, Messer Marco's voice sounded close to my ear, speaking low and gently, as I had never heard it speak since the night his mother died. "Ah! my poor Giacinta, thou hast seen, then, and knowest all. I have a lie ready for the rest of mine household to account for yonder carrion, but I palter not so with thee. Thou mayest betray me if thou wilt-I think thou wilt not. Fear not that any, save one, shall come to blame for what hath been done here; if needs be, I will avouch my own handiwork. Go and call Pietro now: for I must to Pisa to-night-there to take counsel with my trusty cousin, who shall advise me whether it be best for me to bide or flee." Betray him! He might well be safe against that. I straightened myself and strove hard to be calm, whilst my master's call rang through the corridor; and, shortly after, I heard him charge the page to see his sorrel saddled instantly, and to send once again for the leech-who had already left the castle-for that Fra Rèmo had fallen down in a fit. Then he returned and passed into the innermost chamber, closing the door behind him. Besides this, there was between us the chamber in which the other corpse lay: nevertheless, I could hear quite plainly, my lord Marco sobbing as though his heart were broken-so in very truth it was--and I could hear him calling the dead woman by all manner of fond names, such as he had never used since the old days when he did not think the winning of her love was utterly hopeless. Then, by Heaven's grace, I too fell a-weepingfor I think, without those tears, my brain would have turned with grief and horror. At last the steps of Sêr Geronimo the leech, and others, were heard in the corridor without, and they knocked for admittance. Then my master came forth and crossed the second chamber, without glancing aside at the friar's corpse. Indeed, I think he would have gone out without noticing me; but I felt, I cannot tell why, that I should look upon his face no more: so I stopped him, and knelt down before them all, and pressed my lips upon his handthough it was blackened with guilt now, it had stroked my head kindly when I was a little child—and prayed that God would help and forgive him. I doubt if he understood my words; but he tried to smile as he stooped his haggard face down close to mine, and just touched my forehead with his lips. Then-speaking to none else, and staring always straight before him-he went out; and, two minutes later, I heard the rattle of his horse's hoofs in the courtyard beneath. I dared not go with the rest into the second chamber; but they told me afterward that Sêr Geronimo shook his head as he knelt by Fra Rèmo's corpse, and that others beside him noticed purple marks on the throat that could scarce be accounted for by the fit of the falling sickness. But it was the business of none there to be over-curious; and the Franciscans, when they heard the news and、 came to fetch their dead away, raised no question: perchance Fra Anselmo had warned his brethren to avoid unprofitable scandal. Unprofitable, of a truth, it would have been: before dawn, the sorrel wandered back with splashes of blood on saddle and housing; and those who went forth to search, found Marco Vidoni stone-dead in a pine-wood, not a league from his own gate. Riding through the dark at furious speed, his skull had been dashed against a trunk leaning somewhat athwart the road, and he could not have lived a second after the shock. Bernando Vidoni, the cousin of whom my poor master spake, soon came from Pisa, and saw the double funeral celebrated with due pomp and solemnity. He was a good man and a kindly, and would have driven none of the old household forth. But few of us had the heart to take service under a new master; and I went with the rest to this city, where some of my kindred abode; and before I had tarried very long with these, my good Matteo found me out and wooed and wedded me. We have been very happy since, in our hum-drum fashion; but always when this day comes round, I rise with a heart as heavy as lead, and it is never lightened till I have recited many Aves, and spent some space in prayer. And, should bread be harder to win than it hath ever been with us, I will still find coins enow to provide a mass in behalf of all who passed to their compt that night unaneled, and a special one to boot for poor Messer Marco's soul. CHAPTER XXXVII. BRAKESPEARE RIDES WESTWARD. BEFORE Sir Ralph Brakespeare was fit to sit in saddle, his term of service was ended. The honest burghers were greatly discouraged by the defeat at Cascina ; and, looking at their empty treasury, they dared no longer maintain those terrible mercenaries, who were apt to wax disorderly on less pretext than arrears of pay. So it was resolved to let them depart, so soon as the city could clear scores with the White Company. From their financial difficulty the council was relieved by Giovanni Agnello-a man of ambition larger than his fortune who proffered a loan of 30,000 crowns, on condition he should be at once invested with the Doge's mantle. The money came from much deeper coffers than those of Agnello; for it was found by Barnabo Visconti, |