Claws of the Tigress, The Firebrand & The Pearls of Bonfadini (3 Historical Adventures in One Edition). Max Brand
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And then it died not of old age but fighting bravely in battle. Now the merit, relish, and the source of an elephant’s long life lies in its gall; and in this powder there is strength to make the old young again, and to make the middle-aged laugh, and to make the young dance on the tips of their toes.”
Continuing his walk and his narration of wonders, the doctor happened to drop one of his many little packages on the floor beside the chair where Tizzo was sitting. And as he leaned to pick up the fallen thing he muttered words which reached Tizzo’s ears only.
“Up, you madman! Away with me. Your face is known in Perugia and every moment you remain here is at the peril of your life.”
The doctor, saying this, straightened again and allowed Tizzo to have a glimpse of flame-blue eyes which he remembered even better than he had remembered the voice.
It was the baron of Melrose who had come into the city of his enemies in this effective disguise. Was he risking his life only for the sake of plucking Tizzo out of the danger? The heart of Tizzo leaped with surprise and a strange pleasure. A moment later he stepped into a small adjoining room which had not yet been lighted. He had been there hardly a moment before the doctor entered behind him. He gripped Tizzo by the arm, exclaiming in a quick, muffled voice: “Go before me through the court and down the street toward the northern gate of the town. There I shall join you.”
“I cannot go, my lord,” said Tizzo. “I must wait here to learn—”
“You must do as I command you,” exclaimed Melrose. “You have given me the pledge of your honor to serve me; we have made a compact and have shaken hands on it.”
“I shall serve out the terms of the contract,” said Tizzo. “I swear that I shall hunt you out tomorrow, but today I have to find the lady.”
“What lady?” asked Melrose.
“That same Tomaso.’”
“You betrayed me, Tizzo,” said the baron, angrily.
“It is true,” answered Tizzo, “and I shall betray you again if you give me the work of harrying poor girls across the country, robbing them from their homes, leaving their people—”
“Hush!” said Melrose. “Tell me—when did you know that Tomaso was a woman?”
“When I grappled with her at the moment she dropped to the ground.”
“Not until then?”
“No.”
“I understand,” said the baron, “and any lad of a good, high spirit might have done exactly as you did, Tomaso turned into a lady in distress and the gallant Tizzo sprang to her rescue—but if I had overtaken you that night—well, let it go. She told you her name?”
“No,” said Tizzo.
“But you came here into Perugia because she herself invited you!”
“I was to find her in Perugia, but I could not hear the name she called to me. The horses drowned it, thundering over a bridge.”
“You came into this big city to hunt for her face? Are you mad, Tizzo?”
“I think I am about to see her,” answered Tizzo. “I was able to describe her—”
“My lad,” said Melrose, “if you try to reach her, you’ll be caught and thrown to wild beasts. She is the Lady—”
But here a voice called from the lighted taproom, loudly: “He was in here. He was seen to enter in here. A young man with blue eyes and red hair. A treacherous murderer; a hired sword of the Oddi. Find him living or find him dead, I have gold in my purse for the lucky man who will oblige me!”
Tizzo, springing to the door, glanced out into the taproom and saw a tall, dark, handsome young man in complete body armor with a steel hat on his head and a sword naked in his hand. Behind him moved a troop of a full dozen armed men. They came clanking through the taproom, looking into every face.
“That’s Mateo Marozzo,” said Melrose, “the same fellow you bumped on the head yesterday. Run for your life, Tizzo. Try from that window which opens on the street; I’ll make an outcry to pretend that you’ve escaped into the court on the other side.”
“My lord,” said Tizzo, “for risking your life to search for me—”
“Be still—away! At the northern gate as fast as you can get there—hurry, Tizzo!”
Tizzo jumped into the casement of the window at the right and looked down into the rainy dimness of the street. One or two people were in sight; and the drop to the ground was a good fifteen feet. He slipped out, and he was hanging by his hands when he heard the loud voice of Melrose shouting inside the room: “This way! A thief! A redheaded thief! He has jumped down into the court—”
There came a trampling rush of armed heels, a muttering of eager voices. And Tizzo loosed his hold and fell. He landed lightly on his feet, pitched forward upon his hands, and then sprang up, unhurt. But from the entrance gate that led into the court of the tavern he heard a voice bawl: “There! That is he Messer Mateo wants. Quick! Quick! There is a golden price on his head!”
It was the old beggar, Ugo, who fairly danced with excited eagerness as he pointed out Tizzo to a number of loiterers about the gate.
The whole process of betrayal was evident now. One glance Tizzo cast up toward the high towers of Perugia, now melting into the blowing, rainy sky, and in his heart he cursed the pride of the town. But they were coming at him from the direction of the gate; and other yelling voices of the hunt issued from the tavern into the open of its court. They would be on the trail in another moment. He turned and ran with all his might, blindly.
It was clumsy work. He had to hold up the scabbard and sword in his left hand to keep it from tripping him; the steel breastplate which he wore under his doublet was a weight to impede him; but he held fairly even with the foremost of the pursuit until he heard the clangor of hoofs on the pavement, and he looked back to see mounted men behind, and one of them in the lead with three flowing plumes in his hat.
That would be Mateo Marozzo, of course!
He could not outrun horses, but he might dodge them for a moment, so he turned sharply to the left down a dark and narrow lane.
It was a winding way, as empty of people as it was of light, and when he turned the first corner he saw that he was trapped, for the foot of the lane was blocked straight across by a great building.
All other doors were blocked except to the right, where two figures in black hoods stood as if on guard, one of them constantly ringing a little bell. They made an ominous picture, and inside the open door of the house there was a yawning, a cavernous darkness. But Tizzo sprang straight toward this added moment of safety. In front of him, he saw the dark forms lift and stretch out their arms.
“Halt!” cried one deep voice. “Better to die in the open under a clean sky; death itself is waiting inside this house.”
But Tizzo already had brushed past the restraining hands. He entered the dimness of a long hall with the ringing hoofbeats coming to a pause in front of the entrance to the place. And he heard a long cry from the street that might be triumph, horror—he could not tell what.
A stairway climbed on the left. He went up it on the run toward the greater light that came through the upper casements of the house. And at the landings of the stairway he saw bronze figures covered with the dark green patina of great age. That was sure proof that he had entered a house of the greatest wealth; none other could afford sculpture of the Greeks or of the Romans.
He sprang into an upper hall hung from end to end with magnificent tapestries, but empty of all life. There seemed to be no servants in the great mansion; none except the two grim door-keepers at the entrance. And as he ran past a long table in the hall, he saw that the surface of it was dim with dust.
Through the first door he turned into a chamber with brightly frescoed walls and a number of crystal goblets set out