A puff of smoke above us, a flash as of lightning, a deafening roar, and one of Novarro's nine pounders belched out a storm of grape, that hissed over our heads in the direction of our pursuers, and stopped them, beaten and baffled. One effort more, we were out of the stream, up the bank, and panting, breathless and still bleeding, with my companion in a dead faint in my arms, I reined in Castor. In a moment we were surrounded, but the faces were kindly, and dismounting slowly, I placed my lifeless burden on a heap of cloaks that were flung to the earth for her, and then turning round, saw Hawkwood before me. It was the first time we had met since the affair at Arezzo, when I was cast forth a dishonoured man. I did not know how to greet him, and there was a constraint in his face, for I saw he knew me, and was like myself at a loss for speech. I had, however, to take the matter in my hand.
"Signore," I said, "accept my thanks. This lady is the Countess Angiola Castellani, a ward of the Florentine secretary, whom I have brought off from Perugia, and have to take to the convent of St. Jerome."
He tugged at his tawny moustache.
"I have merely carried out orders--you have nothing to thank me for, signore. My instructions were to prevent any of Baglioni's men crossing the Sanguinetta, and to protect all fugitives from the territories of the Borgia."
I bowed and added, with a pain in my tone I could not conceal, for this man was once my friend--
"All the same I thank you, signore; I have, however, four followers."
"I can do nothing for them if they are on the other bank," he interrupted, and went on, "St. Jerome is not a half-league from here. My men will make up a litter, and help to bear the lady there. It will be easier for her. I wish you a good day." He turned on his heel and gave some orders to his men in English, a language I do not know, leaving me standing by the body of Angiola. All the misery of the past came back to me in a flash. Would the stain never be wiped out? All the kindness I had received from Bayard and the cardinal, all the efforts made by those who believed in me, seemed to be swept away as dust in the wind. Almost did I feel that I would accept the ban cast on me, and turn wolf in earnest. It cost me much to restrain myself from drawing on Hawkwood, but a glance at the still pale face before me recalled me to my duty. A man very kindly brought me a little wine, I knelt down and forced some of it between her blue lips. In a short time she revived, some colour came into her cheeks, and she attempted to rise, with a look of fear on her face at the number of armed men she saw around her.
"There is nothing to fear, madam," I said to reassure her, "you are safe, and in an hour will be at St. Jerome--a litter is being made ready for you."
Without a word she held out her hand, and thanked me with this and the look in her eyes.
The litter was now ready, half-a-dozen men volunteered their services, and placing her therein, we started for the convent. Ere we had gone half a mile we heard shouts behind us, and I was more than glad to see Jacopo and my men riding up.