The Chronicles of Count Antonio

by Anthony Hope

But the men grumbled, saying, "It is the way to death that you ask us to lead, sir."

Then the Lieutenant drew his men back, and as they retreated they made a noise great hoping to make Tommasino think they were gone. And, having thus withdrawn some five hundred paces, they rested in utter quiet for half an hour. And it was then late afternoon. And the Lieutenant said, "I will go first alone, and in all likelihood I shall be slain; but do you follow immediately after me and avenge my death." And this they, being ashamed for their first refusal, promised to do. Then the Lieutenant rode softly forward till he came within twenty yards of the rock, and he clapped spurs to his horse and shouted, and, followed close by his men crying, "For God and our Duke!" charged round the jutting rock.

And behold, on the other side of it was not a man! And of Tommasino and his company naught was to be seen—for they had used the last hour to put a great distance between them and their pursuers—save that away, far up the road, in the waning light of the sun, was to be dimly perceived the figure of a man on horseback, who waved his hat to them and, turning, was in an instant lost to view. And this man was Bena, who, by himself and without a blow, had held the passage of the jutting rock for hard on an hour, and thus given time to Tommasino to ride on and come upon the rear of Lorenzo's company before the Lieutenant and his men could hem them in on the other side.

Thus had the day worn to evening, and long had the day seemed to Antonio, who sat before the mouth of the cave, with Venusta by his side. All day they had sat thus alone, for Luigi and the two youths had gone to set snares in the wood behind the cave—or such was the pretext Luigi made; and Antonio had let them go, charging them to keep in earshot. As the long day passed, Antonio, seeking to entertain the lady and find amusement for her through the hours, began to recount to her all that he had done, how he had seized the Sacred Bones, the manner of his difference with the Abbot of St. Prisian, and much else. But of the killing of Duke Paul he would not speak; nor did he speak of his love for Lucia till Venusta pressed him, making parade of great sympathy for him. But when he had set his tongue to the task, he grew eloquent, his eyes gleamed and his cheek flushed, and he spoke in the low reverent voice that a true lover uses when he speaks of his mistress, as though his wonted accents were too common and mean for her name. And Venusta sat listening, casting now and again a look at him out of her deep eyes, and finding his eyes never on hers but filled with the fancied vision of Lucia. And at last, growing impatient with him, she broke out petulantly, "Is this girl, then, different from all others, that you speak of her as though she were a goddess?"

"I would not have spoken of her but that you pressed me," laughed Antonio. "Yet in my eyes she is a goddess, as every maid should be to her lover."

Venusta caught a twig from the ground and broke it sharp across. "Boys' talk!" said she, and flung the broken twig away.

Antonio laughed gently, and leant back, resting on the rock. "May be," said he. "Yet is there none who talks boys' talk for you?"

"I love men," said she, "not boys. And if I were a man I think I would love a woman, not a goddess."

"It is Heaven's chance, I doubt not," said Antonio, laughing again. "Had you and I chanced to love, we should not have quarrelled with the boys' talk nor at the name of goddess."

She flushed suddenly and bit her lip, but she answered in raillery, "Indeed had it been so, a marvel of a lover I should have had! For you have not seen your mistress for many, many months, and yet you are faithful to her. Are you not, my lord?"