Adventure Magazine Cover — page 148: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Grand Cham away contemptuously; nevertheless he kept a wary glance on the jester. “We will wait for Master Bearn,”’ he said shortly. ‘When he returns he must answer on the spot for the death of the three var- lets.” Now Bembo would have given a leg to be able to run off and acquaint his friend with what had happened. ‘The fool, like most unfortunates who are crippled in body, was sensitive to impressions. He was afraid of Rudolfo, and more afraid of Gian. He looked upon Michael as his sole protector and Michael would pres- ently walk back, armed only with a sword, to where his enemy waited with a half- dozen men-at-arms. These same men were alert and eager, pleased at the chance of reaching Trebizond again. Bembo noticed that they did not seem surprized at the turn in affairs, and that Gian was a-grin. “Saint Bacchus aid me and keep good Cousin Michael away,” he prayed. “Or our guts are in the saucepan!” They had not long to wait. Michael stepped from between two trees against which the men-at-arms were sitting at the road’s edge. He had come through the dense thorn thicket without a sound. Rudolfo and Soranzi were not a little disturbed by this sudden apparition in their midst of the man for whom they were look- ing down the road. The captain of mer- cenaries glanced at the thicket and saw that half-hidden within it was a queer kind of native shrine—a mere heap of stones with rags stuck upon sticks hanging over it. Soranzi tried to read the Breton’s harsh face—a task that was no longer easy. Michael’s brown eyes were half-closed and the merchant noted that he worked the - fingers of his right hand slowly as if testing _ long unused muscles. “Signor,” said Michael to Rudolfo, “T heard, while I was coming through yonder thicket, some words of yours. You made bold, methinks, to say that I slew the three varlets. Is it not so?” _ Michael glanced around the ring of faces that had gathered close to him. The men- at-arms were gaping, fingering their wea- pons, intent on Rudolfo. It was significant of the natures of the leaders that Michael seemed, for the moment at least, to enjoy the mastery of the situation. His dark face was lighted by a kind of 147 inward amusement, while Rudolfo was pulling at his mustache with lowered eyes. The watching attendants ignored Soranzi and Clavijo, knowing that the test of leadership lay between the Breton and their own captain. “‘And reason enow!”’ said the latter curtly. ‘*°Fore , masters, here have we a low- born churl who stinks of the sea and who bears the scars of slavery on his wrists and back. Since our landing he has held inter- course with the pagans of the countryside. Aye, did he not interfere on behalf of the knavish robbers of Cabasica? And warn my good Gian from his excursion into the native village some time since? What more of reason would you have?”’ This arraignment, although it satisfied the servitors, raised grave doubts in the keen mind of Soranzi—dorfbts which were heightened when Michael responded gravely that he had slept in a tent with Clavijo the night before and that the Spaniard could testify that he had not left the tent until aroused by the others. “Yet,” growled Rudolfo, who was gaining confidence, “‘you can walk out of ‘a wood | without a sound. Why can you not move even more silently in the hours of darkness when.the evil powers are strong? There is black magic in the air, by the rood! How else could riders gallop like the wind—as those we heard anon—when an _ honest Christian can not see where to put his foot to earth?” : “Master Bearn speaks the truth,” broke in Clavijo bluntly, ““aand—my head on it— he is an honest Christian.” “You are not lacking in lies,” growled Rudolfo. ‘We may no longer believe you. Moreover, by the mouth of his friend Bembo, the Breton stands accused.” Michael glanced at the hunchback keenly. He would have staked his life on the fool’s faith. The tie between the two had been strengthened by the hardships of the journey. In fact it was pity for the hunchback that had impelled Michael to join the party again. He, had been approaching them through the'thicket, moving silently as was his custom, when Rudolfo’s loudly spoken threats arrested him. Understanding that the condottiere had taken the leadership of the party - from Clavijo, and that the Italian’s first blow would be against himself, Michael had been EOmichbooksrco