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

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

146 over the borders of Rometia, where held forth a bitter enemy of his Grace; to wit Venice) to their owners again. Now were his thieveries regarded as most sinful; and troops that had been needed for other use what time he robbed private persons, were detached to deal with him; notably a half company of the guard, under the incompetent sub-lieutenant, which half company (and the lieutenant as well) Uc- cello’s band scattered to the four corners of heaven and hell. I was on duty as sentry of the upper cor- ridor, as it chanced, when news of this dis- aster arrived; and never saw I a man in such murderous fury as the duke; what struck me most was that he cursed above all the dead lieutenant—not for losing the lives of the men of his command, but for letting the robbers make away with the convoy he had been sent to conduct, and leaving the danger in wait for the convoys of the future. When our captain, whom also he cursed in the corridor before mine eyes, took heart of grace to say the man had died in the course of his duty, Alessandro struck him heavily in the face: “What’s his death to me, fool?’ he roared. “I can recruit twelve dozen like him—or like thee, thou triple idiot—in a week. Crops take time to grow; it will be months ere those starvelings in the country will have gathered enough deniers again to be worthy the hire of a wagon. God’s body, answer me but another word, and—” He stalked into his cabinet, leaving the captain as white as a sheet; then he sent for his confessor; then for his physician (this at near midnight); and at last, when it was within five minutes of time for the change of guard, he rang for the captain, and de- manded the fellow that had dealt with Rosa Salviati. “Thank God thou’rt here,’ says the officer, great beads of sweat all over his brow. He blew his whistle down the stair- way for a man to relieve me; but in such terror he was, that he took mine arquebus in his own hands, rather than I should wait for the relief to come. ‘‘Hasten—hasten!”’ So for the third time I entered that cabi- net; saluted and closed the door. The confessor was sitting in a far corner, telling his beads with his capouche pulled up over his head; he looked like a wanderer in open country, huddling down in fear of lightning. The physician, trembling so F, R. BUCKLEY that his jaw waggled to and fro, stood close to the desk at which the duke sat frowning. ‘Dare to tell me what thou art and what thou art not,” Alessandro was saying to the wretched leech, ‘‘and what thou canst and what thou canst not! If I say thou’rt a poisoner, a poisoner thou shalt be, by God’s body, and at my whim Ill have thee burned for it to boot, dog!”’ ““Y-yes, s-sire.”’ “Have that packet made by tomorrow morn; and convey it to this fellow behind thee. Dost understand?” ““Y-yes, s-sire!”’ “Then turn look at him, God’s body!’ roars the duke, thundering on the table with his fist. ‘How canst give it to a man thou’st not seen?”’ The physician turned pale, unseeing eyes on me, and staggered so that I must lend him an arm lest he fall. “Then begone!”’ says Alessandro. ‘And thou, soldier—hither.”’ I stepped forward and saluted again. “Not so near me! Thou reekest of leath- er. Stand back!” | He regarded me with his black eyes, as a snake regards a bird; but without the same effect; I had outgrown my respect for this prince, and my fear of him likewise. “Thou hast heard of this Pietro Uccello,”’ says the duke. ‘He must cease, and I can spare no more troops for his diet; I will pro- ceed against him by stratagem, and the stratagem is this. After thou had served me a little before, I did recall thee as one I had married here, when this Uccello crossed my path before. Is’t not so?” “Yes, sire.”’ The duke smiled. “Then ’tis well. He will not know that thou hast taken service with me; and, feigning to bear me hate, thou’lt go forth, find this troop of his, and take service in’t. Dost thou understand?” I understood, already, more than he had said; and my dry tongue clove to the roof of my mouth. | “My physician will convey to thee, to- morrow, a packet of a mortal poison; some- thing painful, to boot; thou’lt watch thine opportunity, and let Messer Pietro Uccello eat it in his food. Dost understand that?”’ The confessor arose from his corner, whispered in the duke’s ear, and stood by, his rosary dangling from his fingers. “Aye. On behalf of the Church, the COnnicloo SS C@