Название | Leonora D'Orco |
---|---|
Автор произведения | G. P. R. James |
Жанр | Языкознание |
Серия | |
Издательство | Языкознание |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 4064066216498 |
He spoke in the calmest and most good-humoured tone, without moving in his seat, his feet stretched out before him, and his head thrown back; and the man to whom he spoke approached the French officer who was seated sleeping at the table, and took him by the shoulder.
"Shake him," said De Vitry; "shake him hard; he sleeps soundly when he does sleep."
Sacchi did as he was bid, and the officer started up, exclaiming:
"What is it? Aux armes!"
"No need of arms, Montcour," answered his commander; "only do me the favour of taking that gentleman by the collar, and placing him in arrest."
He spoke at first slowly, but increased in rapidity of utterance as he saw his officer's sleepy senses begin to awaken. But Montcour was hardly enough roused to execute his orders, and though he stretched out his hand somewhat quickly towards Sacchi's neck, the Italian had time to jump back and make toward the door.
De Vitry was on his feet in a moment, however, and barred the way, sword in hand. The other servants of Buondoni rushed to the only other way out; but there were officers of De Vitry's band not quite so sleepy as Montcour, and, without waiting for orders, they soon made three out of the four prisoners. The other leaped from the window and escaped.
"My lord, my lord, this is too bad!" exclaimed Sacchi; "you came here as friends and allies of the noble regent, and you are hardly ten days in the country before you begin to abuse his subjects and servants."
For a moment or two De Vitry kept silence, and gazed at his prisoner with a look of contempt. The man did not like either the look or the silence. Each was significant, but difficult to answer; and in a moment after, De Vitry having given him over to one of the subaltern officers, nodded his head, quietly saying:
"We understand you, sirrah, better than you think. If I were to consider you really as a servant of Prince Ludovic, I might remark that the regent invited us here as friends and allies, and we had been scarcely ten days in the land ere he sent you and others to murder one of our officers, and a kinsman of our king; but I do not choose to consider you as his servant, nor to believe that he is responsible for your acts. The king must judge of that as he finds reason, and either hang you or your master, as in his equity he judges right. As to other matters, you know your first word was a lie, that you do not come from Pavia at all, and that the beginning and end of your journey was the Villa Rovera. What you have done there I do not know, but I know the object of your master."
"But, sir, I have nought to do with my master's business," replied Sacchi. "I know nought of his objects; I only know that I obey my orders."
"Hark ye! we are wasting words," said De Vitry. "Doubtless you will be glad to know what I intend to do with you. I shall keep you here till an hour before daybreak, and then take you on to the villa. If I find that one hair of Lorenzo Visconti's head has suffered, I will first hang your master, the worshipful Signor Buondoni, on the nearest tree, and then hang you three round him for the sake of symmetry. I swear it on the cross;" and he devoutly kissed the hilt of his sword.
Sacchi's face turned deadly pale, and he murmured:
"It will be too late--to-morrow--before to-morrow it will be done."
"What is that you mutter?" said De Vitry; "what do you mean will be done?"
"Why, my lord," replied the man, "my master--my master may have some grudge against the young lord Lorenzo. He is a man of quick action, and does not tarry long in his work. I know nought about it, so help me Heaven! but it is hard to put an innocent man's life in jeopardy for what may happen in a night. Better set off at once and stop the mischief rather than avenge it."
"So, so!" said De Vitry; "then the story is all too true. Bayard! Bayard!"
"He has just passed into the court, seigneur," replied one of the young officers who was standing near the window; "he and some others are mounting their horses now. Shall I call him?"
"No, let him go," answered the leader; "he is always prompt and always wise. We can trust it all to him. As for these fellows, take them and put them in an upper room where they cannot jump out. Set a guard at the door. You, signors, best know whether your consciences are quite clear; but if they be not, I advise you to make your peace with Heaven as best you may during the night, for I strongly suspect, from what you yourselves admit, that I shall have to raise you a little above earthly things about dawn to-morrow. There, take them away. I do not want to hear any more. Our good King Louis, eleventh of the name, had a way of decorating trees after such a sort. I have seen as many as a dozen all pendent at once when I was a young boy, and I do not know why it should go against my stomach to do this same with a pack of murderous wolves, who seem made by Heaven for the purpose of giving a warning to their countrymen."
CHAPTER IX.
When Lorenzo awoke--and his sleep was not of such long duration as fully to outlive the darkness--he found more than one person watching him. Close by his side sat Ramiro d'Orco, and near the foot of his bed the lamplight fell upon the well-known face of his faithful follower, Antonio. He felt faint and somewhat confused, and he had a throbbing of the brow and temples, which told him he was ill; but for some moments he remembered nothing of the events which had taken place the night before.
"How feel you, my young friend?" asked Ramiro, in a far more gracious tone than he commonly used; "yet speak low and carefully, for, though the antidote has overwrought the poison, you must long be watchful of your health, and make no exertion."
"You are very kind, Signor Ramiro," replied the young man. "I believe I was wounded last night, and that the blade was poisoned--yes, it was so, and I owe you my life."
"I speak not of that, Lorenzo," replied Ramiro; "I am right glad I was here, and could wish much that I could remain to watch you in your convalescence, for a relapse might be fatal; but I will trust you to hands more delicate, if not so skilful as my own. Men make bad nurses; women are the fit attendants for a sick room, and your pretty little cousin, Bianca Maria--as gentle and sweet as an angel--and my child Leonora, whom you know, shall be your companions. I will charge them both to watch you at all moments, and, under their tender care, I warrant you will soon recover. I myself must ride hence ere noon, for I must be in Rome ere ten days are over. Ere that you will be quite well; and should it be needful that Leonora should follow me, I will trust to your noble care to bring her on through this distracted country. I know you will reverence her youth and innocence for her father's sake, who has done all he could for you in a moment of great peril."
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