He drove it before him—it opened outwards—and, descending the dark stairs with his patron, passed into the night.
An hour later he was spurring for Vigevano, while the Prince was engaged in preparing against his own journey to Genoa on the morrow.
CHAPTER XXI
Carlo kept his room all day, gnawing and tramping out his problem, and extracting nothing from it. Not till it was deep dark did he call for lights, and then he cursed his page, Ercole, who brought them, because they dazzled his brain from thinking. Swerving on his heel, he was in the act of bidding the boy let no one enter, unless it might be Messer Bembo, when, the door being ajar, there hurried into the chamber the figure of a fantastic hag, who, upon noting his company, stopped suddenly, and stood mumbling and sawing the air.
'Begone!' he roared, astounded, and took a furious step towards her.
She laughed harshly. His clenched fists dropped to his sides. There was no mistaking that bitter cackle. He flung his arm to the page, dismissing him.
The moment the door was shut upon them, off went the cloak and sequins, off went the hood and snaky locks, and the Fool Cicada, clean and lithe in a tight suit of jarnsey, stood revealed.
Carlo leapt upon him, mouthing.
'What mummery, beast, and at such a time? Wait while I choke thee.'
In the tumult of his fury he remembered his promise to Bernardo, and fell back, breathing.