At his very first cry the monatti had rushed towards the bed, and the most active of the two was upon him before he could make another movement; jerking the pistol from his hand, and throwing it on the floor, he forced him to lie down, crying in an accent of rage and mockery, “Ah, scoundrel! against the monatti! against the ministers of the tribunal!”
“Keep him down until we are ready to carry him out,” said the other, as he advanced to a strong box. Griso entered the room, and with him commenced forcing its lock. “Villain!” shouted Don Roderick, struggling to get free: “let me kill this infamous rascal,” said he to the monatti, “and then you may do with me what you will.” He then called again loudly on his other servants, but in vain; the abominable Griso had sent them far away with orders as if from his master, before he himself went to propose this expedition, and a share of its spoils, to the monatti.
“Be quiet, be quiet,” said the man, who held him extended on the bed, to the unhappy Don Roderick; then, turning to those who were taking the booty, he said, “Behave like honest men.”
“You! you!” murmured Don Roderick to Griso, “you! after—— Ah, demon of hell! I may still be cured! I may still be cured!”
Griso spoke not a word, and was careful to avoid looking at his master.
“Hold him tight,” said the other monatto, “he is frantic.”
The unfortunate man, after many violent efforts, became suddenly exhausted; but from time to time was seen to struggle feebly and vainly, for a moment, against his persecutors.
The monatti deposited him on a hand-barrow which had been left in the outer room; one of them returned for the booty, then raising their miserable burden, they carried him off. Griso remained awhile to make a selection of such articles as were valuable and portable; he had been very careful not to touch the monatti, nor be touched by them; but, in his thirst for gain, his prudence forsook him; taking the different articles of his master’s dress from off the bed, he shook them, for the purpose of ascertaining if there was money in them.
He had, however, occasion to remember his want of caution the next day; whilst carousing in a tavern, he was seized with a shivering, his eyes grew dim, his strength failed, and he fell lifeless. Abandoned by his companions, he fell into the hands of the monatti, who, after having plundered him, threw him on a car, where he expired, before arriving at the lazaretto to which his master had been carried.
We must leave Don Roderick in this abode of horror, and return to Renzo, whom our readers may remember we left in a manufactory under the name of Antony Rivolta. He remained there five or six months; after which, war being declared between the republic and the King of Spain, and all fear on his account having ceased, Bortolo hastened to bring him back, both because he was attached to him, and because Renzo was a great assistance to the factotum of a manufactory, without the possibility of his ever aspiring to be one himself, on account of his inability to write. Bortolo was a good man, and in the main generous, but, like other men, he had his failings; and as this motive really had a place in his calculations, we have thought it our duty to state it. From this time Renzo continued to work with his cousin. More than once, and especially after having received a letter from Agnes, he felt a desire to turn soldier; and opportunities were not wanting, for at this epoch the republic was in want of recruits. The temptation was the stronger, as there was a talk of invading the Milanese, and it appeared to him that it would be a fine thing to return there as a conqueror, see Lucy again, and have an explanation with her; but Bortolo always diverted him from this resolution. “If they go there,” said he, “they can go without you, and you can go afterwards at your leisure. If they return with broken heads, you will be glad to have been out of the scrape. The Milanese is not a mouthful to be easily swallowed; and then the question, my friend, turns on the power of Spain. Have a little patience. Are you not well here? I know what you will say; but if it is written above that the affair shall succeed, succeed it will, without your committing more follies. Some saint will come to your assistance. Believe me, war is not a trade for you. It needs men expressly trained to the business.”