"So I have, Mardocchi," answered Antonio; "and, as these good people have brought you back to life, I wish to save you from being sent out of it again more quickly than you fancy."
"Where is the danger?" asked Mardocchi, hesitating.
"That is just what I want to discover," said the other; "not vaguely, not generally, but particularly, in every point. General dangers I can see plenty, but I must know all the particular ones, in order to place you in safety. Do you know that your lord, Buondoni, is dead?"
"Ay, so the good woman told me," replied the other; "killed by that young cub of the Viscontis. Curses on him!"
Antonio marked both the imprecation and the expression of countenance with which it was uttered; but he did not follow the scent at once. "Do you know at whose prayer you were cut down?" he asked.
"They tell me at the instance of the Signorina de Rovera," replied Mardocchi; "a young thing I think she is. I saw her once, I believe, with the Princess of Ferrara. If I live, I will find some way to repay her."
"Well, that is just the question," replied Antonio, "if you are to live or die? Hark you, Mardocchi! you must tell me all, if you would have me save you."
"But can you, will you save me?" inquired the man; "and yet why should I fear? The Frenchmen cut me down themselves, I am told."
"Ay, but they are very likely to hang you up again, if they find you out of sight of the pretty lady who interceded for you. Nay, more, Mardocchi: all men believe that you were deep in the secrets of Buondoni and of the Count Regent through him. Now, as you know, the King of France is very likely to put you to the rack if he finds you, to make you tell those secrets; and your good friend Ludovic the Moor, is very likely to strangle you, to make sure that you keep them."
Mardocchi made no reply, for he knew there was much truth in Antonio's words; but, after a moment's pause, the other proceeded, "You must get out of Lombardy as fast as possible, my good friend."