Next morning I mounted my horse and set out with Matteo, who was to
accompany me for a little way.
But at the town gate a guard stopped us and asked where we were going.
'Out!' I answered shortly, moving on.
'Stop!' said the man, catching hold of my bridle.
'What the devil d'you mean?' said Matteo. 'D'you know whom we are?'
'I have orders to let no one go by without the permission of my
captain.'
'What tyrants they are!' cried Matteo. 'Well, what the hell are you
standing there for? Go and tell your captain to come out.'
The man signed to another soldier, who went into the guard-house; he was
still holding my bridle. I was not very good-tempered that morning.
'Have the goodness to take your hands off,' I said.
He looked as if he were about to refuse.
'Will you do as you are told?' Then, as he hesitated, I brought down the
butt-end of my whip on his fingers, and with an oath bade him stand
off. He let go at once, cursing, and looked as if he would willingly
stab me if he dared. We waited impatiently, but the captain did not
appear.
'Why the devil doesn't this man come?' I said; and Matteo, turning to
one of the soldiers, ordered,--
'Go and tell him to come here instantly.'
At that moment the captain appeared, and we understood the incident, for
it was Ercole Piacentini. He had apparently seen us coming, or heard of
my intended journey, and had set himself out to insult us. We were both
furious.
'Why the devil don't you hurry up when you're sent for?' said Matteo.