Bartolommeo turned as he spoke and ran toward the stern-castle. He wrenched at the door of the cabin, and when it refused to open, raised his mace to shatter the panels.
"Quick, Messer Hugh!" shrieked Ralph. "He would murder Lady Edith!"
The mace rose and fell, but before it could achieve Bartolommeo's purpose the comrades were upon him. He ran to meet them, roaring like a bull.
"Out of my path! Who seeks to stay Bartolommeo? By St. Bacchus, a few have sought to do that who did not tell their fate in the wine-shops! Back! Back, there! Bartolommeo comes!"
He gained the rail and mounted it, clinging to the rigging of the mast with one hand.
"Spare your swords, fair sirs," he said, bowing courteously. "I have a mind to test the accomplishment of that sorcerer who bargained for my soul. An he spoke sooth, doubt not the Devil will save me. Farewell! Sir James, I had ever a warm place in my heart for you! Messer Hugh, you had the makings of a youth who would give fine sport on the rack. May you come to a good end."
He leaped, mace in hand, into the water. The ripples closed over him, as Ralph reached the railing where he had stood.
"Certes, my masters, he hath gone," said the bowman in an awed tone.
"A right valiant rogue," remarked Sir James.
"A rare treat he will provide for his master in hell," quoth Matteo.