“Not so loud Peppe,” said he. “You over-estimate the harm. At worst, we have but anticipated by a little what the Duke must have learnt from other sources.”
“But it is just that little–the few hours or days–that will do the mischief,” snapped the jester testily, for all that he lowered his voice. “In a few days Gian Maria will be back. If he were met with the news that the Lady Valentina were missing, that she had run away with Romeo Gonzaga–for that, you’ll see, will presently be the tale–do you think he would linger here, or further care to pursue his wooing? Not he. These alliances that are for State purposes alone, in which the heart plays no part, demand, at least, that on the lady’s side there shall be a record unblemished by the breath of scandal. His Highness would have returned him home, and Madonna would have been rid of him.”
“But at a strange price, Peppe,” answered Franeesco gravely. “Still,” he added, “I agree that I would have served her purpose better by keeping silent. But that such an affair will cool the ardour of my cousin I do not think. You are wrong in placing this among the alliances in which the heart has no part. On my cousin’s side–if all they say be true–the heart plays a very considerable part indeed. But, for the rest–what harm have we done?”
“Time will show,” said the hunchback.
“It will show, then, that I have done no hurt whatever to her interests. By now she is safe in Roccaleone. What, then, can befall her? Guidobaldo, no doubt, will repair to her, and across the moat he will entreat her to be a dutiful niece and to return. She will offer to do so on condition that he pass her his princely word not to further molest her with the matter of this marriage. And then?”
“Well?” growled the fool, “And then? Who shall say what may befall then? Let us say that his Highness reduces her by force.”
“A siege?” laughed the Count. “Pooh! Where is your wisdom, fool! Do you think the splendid Guidobaldo is eager to become the sport of Italy, and go down to posterity as the duke who besieged his niece because she resisted his ordainings touching the matter of her wedding?”
“Guidobaldo da Montefeltro can be a violent man upon occasion,” the fool was answering, when the officer who had left them reappeared with the announcement that his Highness awaited them.
They found the Prince in a very gloomy mood, and after greeting Francesco with cool ceremony, he questioned him on the matter of the company they had met yesternight. These inquiries he conducted with characteristic dignity, and no more show of concern than if it had been an affair of a strayed falcon. He thanked Francesco for his information, and gave orders that the seneschal should place apartments at his and Fanfulla’s disposal for as long as it should please them to grace his court. With that he dismissed them, bidding the officer remain to receive his orders.
“And that,” said Francesco to Peppe, as they crossed the ante-chamber in the wake of a servant, “is the man who would lay siege to his niece’s castle? For once, sir fool, your wisdom is at fault.”
“You do not know the Duke, Excellency,” answered the fool. “Beneath that frozen exterior burns a furnace, and there is no madness he would not commit.”
But Francesco only laughed as, linking arms with Fanfulla, he passed down the gallery on his way to the apartments to which the servant was conducting them.
Chapter XIII.
Gian Maria Makes A Vow
In a measure the events that followed would almost tend to show that the fool was right. For even if the notion of besieging Valentina and reducing her by force of arms was not Guidobaldo’s own in the first place, yet he lent a very willing ear to the counsel that they should thus proceed, when angrily urged two days thereafter by the Duke of Babbiano.
Upon hearing the news Gian Maria had abandoned himself to such a licence of rage as made those about him tremble from the highest to the meanest. The disappointment of his passion was in itself justification enough for this; but, in addition, Gian Maria beheld in the flight of Valentina the frustration of those bold schemes of which had talked so loudly to his councillors and his mother. It was his confidence in those same schemes that had induced him to send that defiant answer to Caesar Borgia. As a consequence of this there was haste–most desperate haste–that he should wed, since wedding was to lend him the power to carry out his brave promises of protecting his crown from the Duke of Valentinois, not to speak of the utter routing of the Borgia which he had wildly undertaken to accomplish.
That the destinies of States should be tossed to the winds of Heaven by a slip of a girl was to him something as insufferable as it had been unexpected.
“She must be brought back!” he had screeched, in his towering passion. “She must be brought back at once.”
“True!” answered Guidobaldo, in his serene way; “she must be brought back. So far, I agree with you entirely. Tell me, now, how the thing is to be accomplished.” And there was sarcasm in his voice.
“What difficulties does it present?” inquired Gian Maria.
“No difficulties,” was the ironical reply. “She has shut herself up in the stoutest castle in Italy, and tells me that she will not come forth until I promise her freedom of choice in the matter of marriage. Clearly, there are no difficulties attached to her being brought back.”
Gian Maria showed his teeth.
“Do you give me leave to go about it in my own way?” he asked.
“Not only do I give you leave, but I’ll render you all the assistance in my power, if you can devise a means for luring her from Roccaleone.”
“I hesitate no longer. Your niece, Lord Duke, is a rebel, and as a rebel is she to be treated. She has garrisoned a castle, and hurled defiance at the ruler of the land. It is a declaration of war, Highness, and war we shall have.”
“You would resort to force?” asked Guidobaldo, disapproval lurking in his voice.
“To the force of arms, your Highness,” answered Gian Maria, with prompt fierceness. “I will lay siege to this castle of hers, and I shall tear it stone from stone. Oh, I would have wooed her nicely had she let me, with gentle words and mincing ways that maidens love. But since she defies us, I’ll woo her with arquebuse and cannon, and seek by starvation to make her surrender to my suit. My love shall put on armour to subject her, and I vow to God that I shall not shave my beard until I am inside her castle.”
Guidobaldo looked grave.
“I should counsel gentler measures,” said he. “Besiege her if you will, but do not resort to too much violence. Cut off their resources and let hunger be your advocate. Even so, I fear me, you will be laughed at by all Italy,” he added bluntly.
“A fig for that! Let the fools laugh if they be minded to. What forces has she at Roccaleone?”
At the question Guidobaldo’s brow grew dark. It was as if he had recalled some circumstance that had lain forgotten.
“Some twenty knaves led by a notorious ruffian of the name of Fortemani. The company was enrolled, they tell me, by a gentleman of my court, a kinsman of my Duchess, Messer Romeo Gonzaga.”
“Is he with her now?” gasped Gian Maria.
“It would seem he is.”
“By the Virgin’s Ring of Perugia!” spluttered Gian Maria in increased dismay. “Do you suggest that they fled together?”
“My lord!” Guidobaldo’s voice rang sharp and threatening. “It is of my niece that you are speaking. She took this gentleman with her just as she took three of her ladies and a page or two, to form such attendance as befits her birth.”
Gian Maria took a turn in the apartment, a frown wrinkling his brow, and his lips pressed tight. Guidobaldo’s proud words by no means convinced him. But the one preponderating desire in his heart just then was to humble the girl who had dared to flout him, to make her bend her stubborn neck. At last:
“I may indeed become the laughing-stock of Italy,” he muttered, in a concentrated voice, “but I shall carry my resolve through, and my first act upon entering Roccaleone will be to hang this knave Gonzaga from its highest turret.”
That very day Gian Maria began his preparations for the expedition against Roccaleone, and word of it was carried by Fanfulla to Francesco– for the latter had left his quarters at the palace upon hearing of Gian Maria’s coming, and was now lodging at the sign of the “Sun.”