“Signor, I could not take a flower from the bush, and carry it to your Highness, without touching it; but I will do only what is absolutely necessary.”
“Well; I trust thee. And—how wilt thou do it?”
“I was thinking, signor. It is fortunate that her cottage is at the extremity of the village; we have need of some place of concealment; and not far from her house there is that old uninhabited building in the middle of the fields, that one—but, your Highness knows nothing of these matters—which was burnt a few years ago, and, not having been repaired, is now deserted, except by the witches, who keep all cowardly rascals away from it; so that we may take safe possession.”
“Well; what then?”
Here Griso went on to propose, and Don Roderick to approve, until they had agreed upon the manner of conducting the enterprise to the desired conclusion, without leaving a trace of the authors of it: and also upon the manner of imposing silence, not only upon poor Agnes, but also upon the more impatient and fiery Renzo.
“If this rash fellow fall in your way by chance,” added Don Roderick, “you had best give him, on his shoulders, something he will remember; so that he will be more likely to obey the order to remain quiet, which he will receive to-morrow. Do you hear?”
“Yes, yes, leave it to me,” said Griso, as, with an air of importance, he took his leave.
The morning was spent in reconnoitring,—the mendicant of whom we have spoken was Griso; the others were the villains whom he employed, to gain a more perfect knowledge of the scene of action. They returned to the palace to arrange and mature the enterprise;—all these mysterious movements were not effected without rousing the suspicions of the old domestic, who, partly by listening, and partly by conjecture, came to the knowledge of the concerted attempt of the evening. This knowledge came a little too late, for already a body of ruffians were laying in wait in the old house. However, the poor old man, although well aware of the dangerous game he played, did not fail to perform his promise; he left the palace on some slight pretence, and hurried to the convent. Griso and his band left shortly after, and met at the old building,—the former had previously left orders at the palace, that, at the approach of night, there should be a litter brought thither,—he then despatched three of the bravoes to the village inn; one to remain at its entrance to observe the movements on the road, and to give notice when the inhabitants should have retired to rest; the other two to occupy themselves within as idlers, gaming and drinking. Griso, with the rest of the troop, continued in ambush, on the watch.
All this was going forward, and the sun was about to set, when Renzo entered the cottage, and said to Lucy and her mother, “Tony and Jervase are ready; I am going with them to sup at the inn; at the sound of the ‘Ave Maria,’ we will come for you; take courage, Lucy, all depends on a moment.”
“Oh, yes,” said Lucy, “courage;” with a voice that contradicted her words.