'You must give way. We shall all be massacred.'
Checco stood for a moment undecided, then, without speaking, he turned
into a room looking on the court. We took it for consent, and Bartolomeo
handed the frightened children to the councillors. A shout of joy broke
from the people and they marched off with their prize in triumph....
I sought Checco and found him alone. As he heard the shouts of the
people, a sob came from him in the misery of his humiliation.
* * * * *
But Jacopo Ronchi and the two sons of Bartolomeo were sent out to
discover what was going on. We could not think what had driven the
council to their step; but we felt sure they must have good reasons for
acting so courageously. We felt also that we had lost all power, all
hope. The wheel had turned, and now we were at the bottom. After several
hours, Alessandro Moratini came back and said,--
'The council has been meeting again, and it has been receiving
messengers; but that is all I know. Everyone looks upon me with an evil
eye and becomes silent at my approach. I ask questions and they say
they know nothing, have seen nothing, heard nothing.'
'Brutes!' said Matteo.
'And for these people we risked our lives and fortunes!' said
Bartolomeo.
Checco looked at him curiously; and, like him, I thought of our
disinterestedness! Alessandro, having given his news, filled a glass
with wine and sat down. We all kept silence. The time went on, and the
afternoon began to close; the hours seemed interminable. At last Jacopo
Ronchi came panting.
'I have discovered everything,' he said. 'The council has resolved to
surrender the town to the Duke, who promises, in return for the
children, to forgive everything and allow them to rule themselves, with
half the council appointed by him.'
We sprang up with a cry.
'I will not allow it,' said Checco.
'If the conspirators make any disturbance, they are to be outlawed and a
price set upon their heads.'
'How far have the negotiations gone?' I asked.
'The messengers have been sent to the Duke now.'
'In that case there is no time to lose,' I said.
'What do you mean?' said Checco.
'We must escape.'
'Escape!'
'Or we shall be taken alive; and you know what to expect from Caterina
and Lodovico. Do not think of their promises of pardon.'
'I put no trust in their promises,' said Checco, bitterly.
'Filippo is right,' said Bartolomeo. 'We must escape.'
'And quickly!' I said.
'I cannot throw up the game,' said Checco. 'And without me, what will
happen to my supporters?'
'They may find forgiveness in submission. But you can do no good here.
If you are in safety, you may be of some assistance. Anyhow, you will
have life.'
Checco buried his face in his hands.
'I cannot, I cannot.'
The Moratini and I insisted. We adduced every argument. Finally he
consented.
'We must go together,' I said; 'we may have to fight our way through.'
'Yes,' said Scipione. 'Let us meet at the gate by the river--at two.'
'But go there separately. If the people find we are attempting to
escape, they will set upon us.'
'I wish they would,' said Matteo. 'It would give me such satisfaction to
put my sword into half a score of their fat bellies!'
'There is no moon.'
'Very well; at two!'
* * * * *
The night was cloudy, and if there had been a moon, it would have been
covered. A thin, cold rain was falling, and it was pitch dark. When I
got to the river gate, four or five of them were already there. We felt
too cold and miserable to speak; we sat on our horses, waiting. As new
arrivals came, we peered into their faces, and then, on recognising
them, bent back and sat on silently. We were all there but Checco. We
waited for a time. At last Bartolomeo Moratini whispered to Matteo,--
'Where did you leave Checco?'
'In the house. He told me to go on, saying he would follow shortly. Two
horses were saddled besides mine.'
'Whom was the second for?'
'I don't know!'
We waited on. The rain fell thin and cold. It struck half-past two.
Immediately afterwards, we heard the sound of hoofs, and through the
mist saw a black form coming towards us.
'Is it you, Checco?' we whispered, for the guard of the gate might have
heard us. We were standing in a little plot of waste ground, ten yards
from the walls.
'I cannot go with you,' said Checco.
'Why?' we cried.
'Ssh!' said Checco. 'I intended to bring my father, but he will not
come.'
None of us had thought of old Orso Orsi.
'He says he is too old, and will not leave his native town. I did all I
could to persuade him, but he bade me go, and said they would not dare
to touch him. I cannot leave him; therefore go, all of you, and I will
remain.'
'You must come, Checco; without you we are helpless.'
'And what of your wife and children?'
'Your presence will exasperate the tyrants. You can do no good, only
harm.'
'I cannot leave my father unprotected.'
'I will stay, Checco,' I said. 'I am not well known as you are. I will
take care of your father, and you can watch over your family and your
interests in safety.'
'No, you must go. It is too dangerous for you.'
'Not half so dangerous as for you. I will do my best to preserve him.
Let me stay.'
'Yes,' said the others, 'let Filippo stay. He may escape detection, but
you would have no chance.'
The clock struck three.
'Come, come; it is getting late. We must be thirty miles away before
daybreak.'
We had already arranged to go to Citta di Castello, which was my native
place, and in case of accident I had given them letters, so that they
might be housed and protected for the present.
'We must have you, Checco, or we will all stay.'
'You will take care of him?' said Checco to me at last.
'I swear it!'
'Very well! Good-bye, Filippo, and God bless you!'
They advanced to the gate, and Checco summoned the captain.
'Open the gate,' he said shortly.
The captain looked at them undecisively. I stood behind in the shade, so
that I could not be seen.
'If you make a sound, we will kill you,' said Checco.