"The Marzocco! Blood of St. John! No more Marzoccos for me," he burst in, as the red went out of his cheek at the very thought of last night's affair. "Man alive! if Florence only knew what happened last night, the whole place would be in an uproar. It was lucky for the Secretary that you came to his aid, as I had to protect La Sirani--ladies first, you know--and could not help his excellency in any way."
"I see," I replied.
"Oh!" he went on, "there were three others in the street, but presto! I disarmed one, pinked another, and the third would have met a like fate, had not La Sirani hung on my arm in her fright, so he made off. I would have pursued, but, hampered with the lady, what could I do?"
"And is not Florence to know what happened last night?" I asked.
He winked his eye, and replied--
"Between you and me, Messer Donati, I think not. You see the Secretary has a fair wife, and they say Madonna Marietta possesses a tongue as well as beauty. Apart from this, you must be aware, as a man of the world----"
"Quite so," and I rose with a smile, "but you must allow me to see that you cool that lime-kiln of yours. I am only sorry I must ask you to come a little way with me."
"Oh! I would go a long way for a can, Signor Donati, and will drink one gladly to your health."
So saying he got up, and we went down and out into the street. I took him to my ordinary, "The Double Florin," and he took a long time in quenching his thirst. When at last he had done, he wished me good day, and we parted, not deeming it desirable to be seen too much together in the streets, and besides I had much to do to get off by the evening. I made up my mind to recover the gold tari I had pledged, and after that to buy a horse and quit Florence at once. The tari itself I should have liked to have returned, as I had promised, or rather said in my anger last night that I would; but I could see no way of doing this without attracting too much attention. On my way to the pawnbroker's I kept my eyes well open, and caught a glimpse of the library scribe, walking on the other side of the road, engaged in conversation with a man, who, despite his common dress, had an air of rank. The latter parted from Ceci's nephew almost as soon as I saw them, and the scribe kept on in my direction. I saw he was again following me, and regretted the mercy I had shown last night, resolving, if opportunity afforded again, to quiet his curiosity for some time to come. I duly redeemed the tari, somewhat to the surprise of the pawnbroker, whose pledges did not as a rule pass so swiftly back into the hands of their rightful owners. On coming out of the shop, my follower was nowhere to be seen at first; but he soon appeared, always keeping on the opposite side of the road. I resolved not to go back to my lodging, but to quit Florence the moment I had secured my horse. It was necessary however to provide some change of attire. I did not intend to substitute a steel corslet for my buff-coat, having a mind to fight my way back to fortune with no defence but that over my heart, and contented myself with purchasing a light steel helmet, a pair of stout riding-boots, a cloak, and some other articles which could go into a small valise, capable of being fastened on to the back of a saddle. These I left at the vendor's, promising to call for them in an hour or so, and hurried towards the horse market, my shadow still keeping behind me, in his accustomed place. Opposite the Baptistry I heard, to my surprise, some one shouting my name, and looking in that direction, saw a man running across the pavement towards me. I recognised at once one of my lances, Jacopo Jacopi, a Lucchese, whom I had every reason to believe devoted to me. He had served with me at Fornovo and after; and although he subsequently left me for a little time, on my joining the Venetian fleet against the Turks, he returned to my banner once more, when it was spread on firm ground, and had always proved a devoted follower. He came now to me with joy on his face, shouting out, "Ah, excellency! It is I, who am a glad man to see you."
"Jacopi," I exclaimed, "but my name is no longer Savelli. It is Donati now--and what do you here?"