'No, my lord,' said Checco. 'I am afraid I was too outspoken.'
'Well, if you were, I have forgiven you, and you must forgive me. But we will not talk of that. My children have been asking for you. It is strange that this ferocious creature, who tells me I am the worst among bad men, should be so adored by my children. Your little godson is always crying for you.'
'Dear child!' said Checco.
'Come and see them now. There is no time like the present.'
Matteo and I looked at one another. Was all this an attempt to get him in his hand, and this time not to let him go?
'I must pray you to excuse me, for I have some gentlemen coming to dine with me to-day, and I fear I shall be late already.'
Girolamo gave us a rapid look, and evidently saw in our eyes something of our thoughts, for he said good-humouredly,—
'You never will do anything for me, Checco. But I won't keep you; I respect the duties of hospitality. However, another day you must come.'
He warmly pressed Checco's hand, and, nodding to Matteo and me, left us.
The crowd had not been able to hear what was said, but they had seen the cordiality, and as soon as Girolamo disappeared behind the Palace doors, broke out into murmurs of derision. The Christian sentiment clearly gained little belief from them, and they put down the Count's act to fear. It was clear, they said, that he found Checco too strong for him, and dared nothing. It was a discovery that the man they had so feared was willing to turn the other cheek when the one was smitten, and to all their former hate they added a new hate that he had caused them terror without being terrible. They hated him now for their own pusillanimity. The mocking songs gained force, and Girolamo began to be known as Cornuto, the Man of Horns.