Adventure Magazine Cover — page 162: what you’re looking at

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

160 whispers, that the next offer would be their greatest, or near enough; but—old Salviati was shaking his head again. The delegates separated. “We have decided,” says the chief of them, clearing his throat, “to offer you ten— thousand—crowns.”’ It was enough; under the circumstances, it would even be a handsome profit; but the white head with the velvet cap shook again, and the Venetians, at that time, were such customers as no captain would dare to offend. “T have decided not to accept the sum.” And I rose again. “Twelve thousand!” ‘Signore, you have my profound regrets; both for your wasted time, and for mine.” “Fifteen!” Now, by God’s body, that was a fine price; very fine; my mouth watered for it, and I scarce dare look at Salviati, for fear that beard should be moving once more in the gesture of negation. But look at him I did; and the beard was so moving; and forthwith, I declined the amount. And this was their last effort; as I bowed to them, and reached for my cap in the hands of Benedetto, the spokesman sank back in his chair despairing. “T would not have you think me rapa- cious, my masters,” I lied with a lively de- light, “but in these days, with wars hither and yon and great demand for fighting in all styles, the price of gunpowder and man- flesh hath become so high, that—” Here old Salviati arose, and interrupted me. He addressed the delegates. “My friends,” says he, in a thin voice, “this is great pity; none knoweth better than I how your city would benefit by this affair; none knows better what sacrifices ye have made to—in short—to bring the mat- ter so far. Perchance if I were to consult with the captain a little in private—” “Oh, willingly, willingly!’ cries the spokes- man, bolting out of his chair as if he would have left us private by flinging himself into the canal. “T have, meseems, the case well in mind,” adds Salviati, looking down at the paper. “H’m. The amounts of taxation to be raised—h’m. Government to be—h’m— I would have your escort also withdraw, Captain.” ‘Dismissed,”’ says I to Benedetto, hand- ing him my cap again—poor fellow, he was F, R. BUCKLEY in an agony to see this rich offer refused; not daring to speak, he winked, and writhed his mouth, and contorted his face at me in protest until his features must have ached. Then I was left alone with Messer Ri- cardo, who immediately beckoned me close to the table. “Thou hast done very well,” he told me in a low voice, tossing the Sienese paper to one side as if it were of no interest at all. ‘“‘And now thou hast done so, Captain, I will tell thee that there is to be no war of the kind these folk desire. When ’twas first broached, we thought well enough; but since then, divers of us—myself among them—have gathered great interests of merchandise in the very city they would attack, which any sort of assault would prejudice. It would be well for thee to speak of the matter to what other free cap- tains thou may encounter. I speak of the matter to thee, rather than to another, be- cause it would seem that thou and Matteo Scarlatti are become the leaders of the pro- fession here northerly.” “Matteo Scarlatti is weak in cavalry,’’ I remarked. “But his tongue and his desire for gold are as strong as thine,” replied the old Vene- tian, smiling, ‘wherefore I have despatched a courier to him, with the same injunctions I have laid on thee.”’ This was a great relief—that Scarlatti should not have the work I had been forced to refuse; but, no matter, the loss to mé re- mained; and of set purpose, I let regret for it show clearly in my face. The which Ri- cardo saw, and smiled again. “No need to ask for compensation,” says he, “it is ready prepared for thee—though not in the form of money to be handed across this table. Were that the case, how much wouldst thou expect—considering that thou hast no powder to buy, no men to lose, and that in refusing these Sienese, thou hast obliged the Republic of Venice?” “Four thousand crowns.” “It is not unreasonable,” says Ricardo, running his fingers through his beard. “I rejoice to see thee reasonable. H’m. For this convinces me that thou’lt see the reason of what I am about to propose in lieu of compensation direct— It was indeed thou that wast banished from Rometia?”’ He shot the question at me suddenly, so that I started in my seat. “If not banished,” old Salviati corrected GOMIGIOO SS (©