Adventure, June 1911 — page 63: what you’re looking at

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

‘sir John Hawkwood It is the men—curse them, they have gone mad! They say you have betrayed them and turned the Prince against them. Last night they saw the jewels the Princess wore, . and now they swear to seize them and scatter over Italy to seek fortune where they may. But first they will kill you and Messer O’Meara, and as for the women——”’ I darted down the stairs with him at my heels. There was a ringing in my ears, a quick darkness before my eyes. I was well used to danger and looked for no other fate than to die some day by the sword; nor was my life so noble a thing that I would have grieved greatly over the losing of it. But the Princess! Had I brought her here that she might fall into the hands of men like my mercenaries? Better a thousand times that I had left her to Antonio della Scala! The thought lent wings to my feet as I hurried down into the castle. The murmur of voices told me that the men were gathered in the gallery. As I drew nearer I caught the angry note in their tones, the accent of unbridled lawlessness that spelt terrible danger. For a moment I paused on the stairs, knowing better than to burst in upon them with any appearance of haste and fright; and in that moment my anxiety séemed to pass away, leaving me confident of my power to rule the storm. A great crash fell on my ears, followed by a hoarse, evil shout of triumph. Delaying no longer, I left the stairs and strode into the gallery. The crash had been caused by the break- ing in of the Princess’ door, which had flown into splinters. The men were surging for- ward now, then giving back slightly, for in the opening stood O’Meara, his face white with anger, his eyes blazing, and his drawn sword flashing in his hand. Behind him stood Madonna Giulia. She was very pale and had a look of restrained horror, but held herself proudly erect and made no sign of fear. Francesca was clinging to her in terror, trembling and hiding her face. “‘God curse ye all for a set of cowardly devils!” O’Meara was crying fiercely. ‘‘Come on, then—come on, and taste cold steel! Never fear, Princess—and you, mavourneen, keep up heart,” he encouraged the ladies, across his shoulder. ‘“‘’Tis Sir John will be after setiling the knaves in the wink of an eye when he comes.” He gave a war-whoop of delight at seeing me. ‘“‘All’s 249 well now,” he went on to the ladies, with an easy assurance most flattering to my powers. “Make yourselves easy, and never trouble to look any more at these dogs!” ; I strode across the gallery, straight through the crowd, which parted instinct- ively to give me room. I had reached O’Meara and the doorway before one of the men shrieked out, bidding the others cut me off and end me with a dagger-thrust. Again they surged forward, and I looked on a circle of fierce, evil faces full of the dangerous passions of the wild beast. All were armed. I caught the flash of many a ragged-looking knife and many a keen cutlass. Instinctive- ly I turned my head for a glance at -the Princess. Her eyes had the look of one who gazed on a vision of hell, nor did they change as they rested on me. To her I was but of the rest, as evil as they, as brutal. And I have no doubt I appeared so in that instant, for I had learned long ago that the only fashion in which one might rule a band of wild ruffians like my free lances was by playing the part of a wilder ruffian than the greatest among them; and I confronted them now with a look fierce and grim enough to put their swagger to shame. CHAPTER XVIII ONE AGAINST MANY ELL!” I said sternly. ‘‘And what does this mean, I should be glad to hear? [commanded that this gallery should be kept empty; I come down to find my en- tire force assembled in it, and a door broken to bits! Who is to blame, then? Who has led you? Faith, I would not choose to stand in his boots, for by my knightly spurs I will have him beaten to a jelly for this day’s work! Answer me, you dogs—what does this thing mean?”’ They kept silence for a moment—so strong is the habit of obedience that my un- moved front made them quail. Had I hesitated ever so little, then they would surely have struck me down, and the Prin- cess’ fate would have been irrevocably sealed. Since I confronted them threaten- ingly, they looked half shame-faced, and no one seemed anxious to make the first move against the door. - “Well, am I to stand here forever staring “at you?” I demanded, and backed the question with such a volley of camp oaths COmiclbooks (C@