Love-at-Arms | Page 6

indifferent to his danger as
to his salvation. His time is spent in orgies, in dancing, in hawking and
in shameful dalliance, and if we dare throw out a word of warning,
threats and curses are the only answer we receive."

Da Lodi paused, as if growing conscious that his manner was becoming
over-vehement. But of this, his companions, at least, were all
unconscious, for they filled the pause with a murmur of angry
confirmation. Francesco wrinkled his brow, and sighed.
"I am--alas!--most fully conscious of this danger you speak of. But--
what do you expect of me? Why bear me your grievance? I am no
statesman."
"Here is no statesman needed, lord. It is a soldier Babbiano requires; a
martial spirit to organise an army against the invasion that must come--
that is coming already. In short, Lord Count, we need such a warrior as
are you. What man is there in all Italy--or, indeed, what woman or what
child--that has not heard of the prowess of the Lord of Aquila? Your
knightly deeds in the wars 'twixt Pisa and Florence, your feats of arms
and generalship in the service of the Venetians, are matters for the
making of epic song."
"Messer Fabrizio!" murmured Paolo, seeking to restrain his eulogistic
interlocutor, what time a faint tinge crept into his bronzed cheeks. But
Da Lodi continued, all unheeding:
"And shall you, my lord, who have borne yourself so valiantly as a
condottiero in the service of the stranger, hesitate to employ your skill
and valour against the enemies of your own homeland? Not so,
Excellency. We know the patriotic soul of Francesco del Falco, and we
count upon it."
"And you do well," he answered firmly. "When the time comes you
shall find me ready. But until then, and touching such preparation as
must be made--why do you not address his Highness as you do me?"
A sad smile crossed the noble face of Lodi, whilst Ferrabraccio laughed
outright in chill contempt, and with characteristic roughness made
answer:
"Shall we speak to him," he cried, "of knightly deeds, of prowess, and
of valour? I would as lief enjoin Roderigo Borgia to fulfil the sacred

duties of his Vicarship; I might as profitably sprinkle incense on a
dunghill. What we could say to Gian Maria we have said, and since it
had been idle to have appealed to him as we have appealed to you, we
have shown him yet another way by which Babbiano might be saved
and Valentino's onslaught averted."
"Ah! And this other way?" inquired the Count, his glance wandering
back to Fabrizio.
"An alliance with the house of Urbino," answered Lodi. "Guidobaldo
has two nieces. We have sounded him, and we have found him well
disposed towards such a marriage as we suggested. Allied thus to the
house of Montefeltro, we should receive not only assistance from
Guidobaldo, but also from the lords of Bologna, Perugia, Camerino,
and some smaller states whose fortunes are linked already to that of
Urbino. Thus we should present to Cesar Borgia a coalition so strong
that he would never dare to bring a lance into our territory."
"I heard some talk of it," said Paolo. "It would have been a wise step
indeed. Pity that the negotiations came to naught!"
"But why did they come to naught? Body of Satan!--why?" roared the
impetuous Ferrabraccio, as with his mighty fist he smote the table a
blow that well-nigh shattered it. "Because Gian Maria was not in a
marrying mood! The girl we proposed to him was beautiful as an angel;
but he would not so much as look. There was a woman in Babbiano
who----"
"My lord," cut in Fabrizio hastily, fearing the lengths to which the other
might go, "it is as Ferrabraccio says. His Highness would not marry.
And this it is has led us to invite you to meet us here to-night. His
Highness will do nothing to save the Duchy, and so we turn to you. The
people are with us; in every street of Babbiano are you spoken of
openly as the duke they would have govern them and defend their
homes. In the sacred name of the people, then," the old man concluded,
rising, and speaking in a voice shaken by emotion, "and with the
people's voice, of which we are but the mouthpiece, we now offer you
the crown of Babbiano. Return with us to-night, my lord, and

to-morrow, with but twenty spears for escort, we shall ride into
Babbiano and proclaim you Duke. Nor need you fear the slightest
opposition. One man only of Babbiano--that same Masuccio whom you
tell us that you saw to-night-- remains faithful to Gian Maria; faithful
because he and the fifty Swiss mercenaries at his heels are paid to be so.
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