"I fear, my lord cardinal, she has retired to rest," said Lorenzo, "but if so I will deliver the letter and your Eminence's words to-morrow."
A slight smile came upon the old man's face; but notwithstanding his sternness and occasional violence, softer and kinder emotions would sometimes spring up from his heart. He crossed himself as if sorry for the mere worldly smile; and then looking up on high, where the stars were sparkling clear and bright, he murmured, "Well, after all, this pure young love is a noble and beautiful thing. Good night, my son, God's benison and mine be upon you."
They had now reached the entrance of his tent and there they parted.
CHAPTER XIX.
From the rejoicing gates of Pisa--set free by the King of France from the burdensome yoke of Florence--the royal army took its way to the daughter of Fiesole. Steadily, though slowly it marched on, and Lorenzo Visconti led the van. Oh what thoughts, what struggles of feeling, what various emotions perplexed him when he saw the walls and towers of Florence rising before him! There his early infancy had passed after his father had perished in the successful effort to rid his country of a tyrant, but only, alas, to give her another. There had his youth been protected, his life saved, his education received, his fortunes cared for, his happiest days passed. And now he approached the cradle of his youth at the head of an invading army.
With his lance upon his thigh and his beaver raised he gazed upon the beautiful city with apprehension but not without hope. He knew that Florence had no power to resist; that her walls were too feeble, her towers not strong enough to make any successful defence against the tremendous train of artillery which followed the French army. He trembled to think of what might be the consequence of one bombard fired from those battlements, one gate closed upon the foe. The scenes of Vivizano returned to his imagination, and he thought he saw the forms of well known friends and early companions exposed to the licence and brutality of the cruel soldiery.
"I at least come not as an enemy," he thought, "and perchance if it be God's good will, I may do something in return for all that Florence has done for me."
He looked anxiously round as he continued his march, but he could see no signs of resistance. Now his eyes rested upon the calm Arno flowing on, alternately seen and lost; and then he caught a glimpse of the Mugnione, and a torrent but now a brook, rushing down from the Apennines. Many a winding road caught his eye, but nothing appeared upon them but trains of peasantry seemingly seeking shelter from the apprehended pillage by the light troops of the French army.
Many a time he sent a message back to the king to say that all was quiet and peaceable; and more than once he fell somewhat into the rear of his party to speak a word or two to some one in a litter, well guarded, which had followed during the last three days' march. But still all remained quiet, and he saw no reason to suppose that the rumors which had been current in the French camp had any foundation. Those rumours had imported, that the acts of Pierre de Medici, who had sought the King of France and humbly submitted to any terms which the monarch's council thought fit to dictate, had been disavowed by the Signoria, Pierre himself obliged to fly in disgrace, and that the citizens were resolved to defend their homes to the last. It is true that he had never seen such a number of peasants seeking the city before; and he remarked that there were few, if any, women, and no children amongst them. But there stood the gates wide open, with nothing but half a dozen armed men at some of the entrances to indicate that it was a fortified place. No order had been given to halt at any particular spot, and Lorenzo rode on till he was not more than three hundred yards from the Pisa gate, when a large party of the king's fouriers and harbingers, accompanied by a trumpeter, passed him at the gallop and rode straight up to the city. The trumpet blew, and admission for the King of France was demanded in a loud tone, when one of the officers on guard stepped forward and replied, "We have no orders to oppose the king's entrance."
Just at that moment the Cardinal Julian came up on a fine swift mule, followed by numerous cross bearers and attendants, and paused by the side of Lorenzo, saying, "Follow me into the city, my son. I have the king's order to that effect. We will first carry our young charge to the house of Madonna Francesca, and then both you and I may have some charitable work on hand to mediate between the monarch and the citizens."