Adventure, June 1911 — page 77: what you’re looking at

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

sir John Hawkwood stood erect, her pale face raised. ‘‘I am not brave, and I am very foolish and feather- headed,” she answered, with a pitiful little effort at mirth, “but I would gladly give my life for Madonna Giulia! Tell me how I may help her and you shall have no cause to call me coward.” “Then you must stay here in the castle while she leaves us,” I answered. ‘‘O’Meara, go get your men to horse! Choose out the most evil and greedy of the troop—the ones who would be most like to fail me when they found the pinch a hopeless one; in that way I shall have the stancher men left for the holding of the castle, and you will have no trouble, for those who ride with you will look for a rich reward in Padua.”’ He hesitated, looking at me uncertainly. “Tye said I’d leave you, and I’ll be keeping my word, though it hurts me near beyond all bearing to do it,”’ he said, coming close to me. “But Madonna Francesca there, Sir John? Sure, and death is all in the day’s work for us men, but what of a sweet little girl like that who never las looked on a drop of blood and never should? Have we got the right to bring her into peril?” She had heard him, and even at this mo- ment a faint smile played about her mouth. “TI shall not be in great danger, Messer O’Meara,” she said prettily, coming up and laying her fingers on his arm. “ Prince An- tonio will not dare do me any serious evil, no matter how far I enrage him. My family. is poor now, but we have kinsmen who are powerful, and all Verona would cry out if harm came to me. Never fear! But I would—I would——” She broke off with tears filling her eyes. “What then, mavourneen?” he cried passionately. “T would,” she repeated, between tears and laughter, “that you were not going, Messer O’Meara! You must find means to come back to Verona some day, lor i should never see you again——” “Yes? Yes? Tell me, then?” he urged eagerly. “T would find me a convent!” she an- swered, sobbing and laughing at one and the same time. ‘For I will be a nun, I vow it, before my Lord Ravignani shall call me wife, or any other noble of Verona, or any man on earth save—save-——” It was here that O’Meara forgot all the world in his rapture and caught her in his 263 arms and covered her face with kisses. She clung to him, laughing joyfully through her tears, as pretty a picture as I had ever seen; and though I well knew that every moment was precious to me, I had not the heart to interrupt the brief heaven of these two who might never meet again on earth. “SIR JOHN HAWKWOOD,” said Se the Princess’ voice in my ear. She ee was standing close beside me, pale and tense, but very composed. ‘I will not go!” she said, and with an accent of finality that chilled me. “TI have caused all this by my own fault. I shall stay, and share the evil that is coming. That is the only repara- tion I can make you now!’’ : The other two were oblivious to us, and did not see that I bent and took both the Princess’ hands in mine. “ You speak like a great lady and a brave woman,” I answered, “but you are wrong. There is a greater reparation than that which you can make me. Whether you stay or go, my death is certain; but it rests with you whether I die in all content, having redeemed my spotted life in some part, or whether I die with all my sins uncleansed and my heart in a tu- multof despair. Go—let mefeel that I have saved you, that I have not lived in vain. You will let me die in peace, Madonna Giulia? I have tried to serve you, I have risked all in your behalf, and this is my first and last prayer, the only thing that I shall ever ask you.” She was silent for a long moment, and I saw that there were heavy tears on her lashes. ‘‘Yes, I will go,” she said at last, very softly. “I thank you, Princess.” I could say no more than that in a steady voice. She raised her eyes to mine, and they had a wonderful star-like look. ‘‘Doyouremem- ber, Sir John,” she said, ‘‘that one day in the palace Joggia—it was the afternoon when you would have warned me of my cousin, and I would not listen—you took my scarf? Have you it now?” “Yes,” I answered, in amazement. “Then give it to me,” she said. “Vou desire it?” I asked, with a keen stab of pain at my heart. “T was unworthy of it when I took it, true—but am I all un- worthy now? May I not keep it until the end, the end which will soon be here?’’ She shook her head and held out her hand. Slowly, biting my lips to keep down the COMmIGDOO SoCO