The Banner of the Bull by Rafael Sabatini

Author:Rafael Sabatini
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: House of Stratus

‘Can it really hurt a man to die?’ wondered Almerico. ‘Matteo being dead, shall yet live. But that poor thing being living is yet dead.’

‘Shall we come to business?’ quoth Pantaleone, breaking in upon what promised to develop into an eloquent discourse upon life and death, chiefly derived from Seneca. ‘Will you send for Matteo Orsini, or shall I bid my men drag him from the lazar-home where he skulks. It is idle to resist, futile to delay. My knaves have hemmed the place about, and none goes in or out save at my pleasure.’

He saw a change of expression sweep across both faces. The girl’s eyes dilated – with fear, as he supposed; the old man uttered a short, sharp laugh – of stoicism he opined.

‘Why, sir,’ said Almerico, ‘since you are so well informed, you had best yourself complete your task of infamy.’

Pantaleone looked at him a moment, and then shrugged.

‘Be it so,’ he said shortly, and swung upon his heel to go about it.

‘No, no!’ It was Madonna Fulvia who arrested him with that cry, sharp with a new anxiety. ‘Wait, sir! Wait!’

He paused obediently, and half-turned. He beheld her standing tense and straight, one hand pressed upon her bosom as if to quell its tumult, the other held out to him in a gesture of supplication.

‘Give me leave to speak with my father alone, ere…ere we decide,’ she panted.

Pantaleone sniffed, and raised his eyebrows.

‘Decide?’ quoth he. ‘What remains to be decided?’

She wrung her hands in a pathetic intensity of mental stress.

‘We…we may have a proposal to make to you, sir.’

‘A proposal?’ He said, and scowled. Did they seek to bribe him? ‘By the Host…’ he began hotly, and there checked. The cupidity of his nature leapt up instantly, aroused and alert. After all, he bethought him, there would be no harm in hearing this proposal. The man is a fool who neglects to learn anything from which he may cull personal advantage. He considered further. After all, none save himself was aware of Matteo Orsini’s presence at Pievano, and if the price were high enough – who knew? – he might be induced to keep that knowledge to himself. But the price must needs be high to compensate him not only for the loss of the thousand ducats offered by the Duke but for the hurt his vanity would suffer in the admission of failure.

Seeing him silent, and conceiving that he hesitated, Madonna renewed her prayer.

‘What harm can it do to grant me this?’ she asked. ‘Have you not said yourself that the place is hemmed about by your men? Are you not therefore master of the situation?’

He bowed stiffly.

‘I will concede it you,’ he said. ‘I shall await your pleasure in the ante-chamber.’ And upon that he went out, his spurs jingling musically.

Left alone father and daughter looked long at each other.

‘Why did you hinder him?’ asked the Lord of Pievano at length. ‘Surely you were not moved by any thought of pity for such a man?’

Her lip curled in a scornful smile.

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