CHAPTER III

A MAN AND A STOOL

It

So I turned, pretty sombre, into the way which led upwards through the city, and walked on. may afford some hint of my preoccupation when I say that I found myself presently in the tortuous maze of the Toscana. I was late that night, and the Rua Toscana lay certainly on my most direct homeward road from the Palazzo Reale, yet it was a street which with equal certainty I should not have ventured to penetrate at that hour under ordinary circumstances. Chance or Providence? With one thing and another my brain was in a whirl. Had I confined myself, as usual, to the larger and more frequented thoroughfares-but of what avail were it to speculate concerning might-have-beens? ceased, as it were, to be master of my actions. From that time onwards every step which I took was shutting me closer in the trap of an inevitable choice.

I had

I went that night by way of the Toscana. The street might almost have been constructed with a view to increasing facilities for ambuscade, so much did its mode of architecture adapt itself to the purposes of the assassin. Arched in throughout its length at the height of a third storey, it was closed in so completely as to exclude all air and sunshine, save where an occasional opening in its roof had been designed to admit the light of day. Here and there a narrow outlet between the houses yielded a glimpse of a winding passage leading to some unfrequented lane or alley. At irregular intervals a recess hollowed in the wall would suddenly reveal the feeble flicker of a lantern

placed there in honour of some patron saint, or served with equal facility as a convenient lair for a nocturnal cutpurse. The Rua Toscana, in a word, was a locality which, whether at noon or midnight, presented the same appearance of half-terrifying twilight. Somehow it seemed as if the very paving, with its huge uneven blocks of lava, was here more frequent in its unseen pitfalls than was the case in other streets. Cautiously as I felt my path along, I stumbled more than once. There were moments when, as I hurriedly recovered myself from a trip over some unexpected obstacle, I could have sworn that I had seen a figure glide into a doorway, only to discover on approaching that I had been deceived by some effect of light and shadow.

In this frame of mind was I when, turning a sharp corner, I happened to glance upwards. Though I knew it not, the die was cast. I stood on the threshold of my destiny.

From the angle into which I had retreated I commanded a view of a house across the roadway: a building heavily shuttered like its neighbours, and with a similar look of desolation about the once decorative mouldings which showed out in vague relief against its woodwork. Upon the first floor, almost at the level of my eyes, a single casement was open from which a feverish radiance spread itself upon the darkness. An extraordinary scene was being enacted in the dimlylighted chamber.

Across the farther corner there had been set a table from which the contents had been swept in a rough heap upon the floor. Behind this, his back planted firmly against the tattered arras, I beheld one of the most singular individuals who has ever come across my path in life. He was bareheaded, and his dress was washed to a nondescript hue by sun and rain; grimed and travel-stained, a thick mass of black hair fell to his shoulders and mingling with his unkempt beard gave him the appearance of one who for months past had neither known the use of comb nor razor. Yet I noticed that a valuable jewel gleamed at his throat, and

that his doublet was clearly of no common material or fashioning. Despite his dishevelled aspect and the incongruity of his surroundings, it did not need a second glance to tell me that he was a personage of mark and standing. There was a distinction in his bearing which must have singled him out anywhere as one apart from the ordinary ruck of humankind.

Unarmed, and as one would have thought defenceless, he had caught up a low stool and, using it alternately as buckler and as weapon, was striving to protect himself against the combined attack of no less than three assailants. Warding off cut and thrust with equal agility and skill, he fought with a dexterity and coolness which brought a cry of admiration to my lips. Now brandishing his stool about his head he dealt one of the combatants a tremendous buffet, causing him to reel backwards with an oath, now he as cleverly intercepted a sudden lunge which threatened to catch him in the moment of recoil. With a shout of encouragement I sprang across the roadway. The face of a womanpallid, appealing, agonised-had flickered across the shadow of the casement.

The door lay open an inch or more, and with a bound and a spring as I threw it wide I cleared the staircase.

"Body of a dog! I had not known that the German Guard was so anxious to protect me. No matter, signore. In consideration of your sword I will go so far as to forgive your uniform. If you will kindly deal with these two upon my right I will see to it that you have no cause to regret your valuable assistance. fancy that I can contrive to hold my own against this gentleman. A poor thrust, my friend, a poor thrust! It was not thus that Paradiso taught you unless I am mistaken!"

I

The man spoke as calmly as if he had been indulging in a fencing-bout. I dashed to his assistance, but before I reached him he had scored a point, for the sword of one of his adversaries shivered to the hilt against that three-legged stool which in his hands

With a snarl the

seemed so redoubtable a weapon. fellow, falling back, clutched at his dagger and, wheeling about swiftly with a string of foul imprecations, stabbed viciously over at the woman. But my eye had been upon him, and I intercepted the cowardly thrust upon my blade, securing the wall with a rapid backward leap just as the other swordsman lunged in my direction. He was a low-looking fellow, for the mask he wore merely threw into higher relief his hanging under-lip and coarse-shaped chin. Nor was his companion-a short, thick-set figure with a scrubby growth of beardmore likely than himself to be mistaken for a gentleman. I knew them for what they were: a pair of tavern loafers, whose prowess might safely be measured in ratio to the handful of carlini which had bought them.

I shouted to the woman to stand clear, and for a few seconds we fought silently and watchfully. Then I saw my opportunity. A sharp thrust of the dagger upon my left, a sudden lunge upon my right: had either touched me, it had been the end. I could have laughed at the clumsiness of the attempt as I leapt forward from the wall between them. Ere the swordsman could regain his balance I turned on him abruptly and ran him through the body. Then I faced the other. I kept him at a distance with my point, and, stooping warily, seized hold of the sword which had fallen from the nerveless fingers at my feet.

"Take this, signore!" I cried, and flung it exultantly across the table. "If you can use it as you use your furniture you will be in no need of my assistance!"

Before the words were out of my mouth he had caught the weapon and vaulted lightly to my side.

"Sir," he said hurriedly, but with surpassing calmness, "I look to you for a few moments to divert the attention of these gentlemen while I continue my conversation with my sister."

I looked up in amazement. The woman had advanced towards us and, with arms outstretched, was confronting me, majestic as a pagan goddess. Her

eyes were sparkling with a fierce light, her lips were red beyond the ordinary, her tones were impassioned with the joy of battle.

'Naples and Liberty!" she cried. "Keep them in play, brave soldier. You will learn all later. Strike now for Liberty and Naples!"

Taken aback and hardly understanding, I found myself confronted by the leader of the attacking party.

"Your pardon, cavaliere," I exclaimed desperately, fired as I was by the imperious gesture of the woman, "but if it would be convenient for you to cross swords with me until our friend is ready

A

He seemed to hesitate, and scrutinised me closely through the eye-slits of his mask. I profited by the delay to glance at my gentleman of the dagger who, truth to tell, evinced but little desire to detain me. gentle prick of my weapon and I sent him scrabbling to the nearest wall. My present business lay wholly with his leader, who with a quick flourish of his blade now set upon me.

He disengaged in tierce in an endeavour to break down my guard, and, retreating a pace, I made a pretence of lowering my weapon and returned his stare with interest. He was of middle height and, as I judged, nearer fifty than forty years of age. He wore a short beard trimmed to a point after the Spanish fashiona mode then much affected by the nobles of the cityand his whole attire was indicative of rank. There was a mystery about him which put me on my mettle, for, try as I would, I could not bring him to speak. In vain I attempted to pierce the concealment of his mask. He was a clever swordsman, as the first half-dozen passes showed me, and it piqued me that he should preserve this unfathomable secrecy.

"This is not the first time, cavaliere, that I have had the honour," I said suddenly and at a venture, parrying not without difficulty one of his ripostes.

The remark appeared to disconcert him, for with a sharp exclamation he sprang back a step. I pressed the advantage, but in an instant he had redoubled the