Adventure Magazine Cover — page 151: what you’re looking at

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

The Way of Sinners or the protestations of Stella Olivieri and her mother, concerning the worshipfulness of love and marriage. Strange, that with truth and fasehood before it, humanity should have chosen to build its world of lies! A sentry spoke to me as I passed his place of watch. “Reinforcements arrive, Captain,” he said. Here was one thing true, at any rate; Count Roberto had not only gone forth to seek guns, but he had found them. As the dusk fell, I perceived a cavalcade, escorting several great brutes of cannon on wheeled carriages, which had emerged from the wood by the same road we had taken, and was progressing toward the remnants of the de- tachment we had fought; it was camped well out of range of us now, and its fires were beginning to gleam. I watched until the two forces had merged about the fires, and continued my walk of inspection. Everything was in order; I had almost returned to the bridge-way leading from the walls to my quarters when a horn blew over the main-gate, and from sentry to sentry, the word flew that the enemy de- manded a parley. As I started for the gate, Benedetto came rushing along the wall, with news that the Count Roberto was waiting before the portcullis, under truce, and with an escort of two men. “Let him wait a little. Go summon the Countess Anita.” He saluted and went hastily; I strolled easily toward the place best adapted for a parley. I had picked it out earlier in the in- spection, for the reason that it was between two wall-guns, which could be fired quickly in case of need; and before showing myself, I called two gunners, and bade them light their matches. “Do not fire until I give the word; keep the matches well away; if there is a dis- charge, we shall have to stay here forever, or be hanged if we surrender.”’ “Aye, Captain.” ~ Now the countess hastened up, wrapped in a great dark cloak and hooded; and, with her at my side, I stepped to the breastwork between the gun-muzzles. “Both aim at the count,” I said to the men in a low tone; and then called forth, “T am ready to parley!”’ So—to make a long matter short, for I will not detail the conversation—parley we 10 145 did for the quarter of an hour, in a classi- cal manner somewhat complicated by the count’s infirmity of speech. Gravely, the tradition-bound old idiot called upon me to surrender, well witting that I was there for the sole end of defying him; gravely I re- fused. Then, in the prescribed forms, he offered me mercy if I would accept the same while I stood in no need of it; threatening that if in the future I should apply for quar- ter, it would be withheld. These, and a few similar foolishnesses of the last century, made up all my part of the parley; for just as Count Roberto began to stutter forth his real feelings concerning the affair, out of the corner of my eye did I perceive Bene- detto, arrived behind me and wishful to speak. “‘He is demanding me,”’ says the Countess Anita, rapping on my back-plate. ‘Give place, and I will entertain him. Talk thou with the lieutenant.”’ ‘“‘The messenger is ready,” says Bene- detto. ‘“‘Meseemed it would be better to get him gone while this parley holds, Cap- tain; doubtless the count knows the sorties from his own castle, and will guard them.” “°Tis well thought of. Aye, let him go without delay. Lower him down the face of the rock, by a rope from the turret win- dow—thou knowest?”’ “Aye. And the message?” “He is to find the Duke Alessandro as quickly as may be, and tell him we have no more provisions than may suffice us for a fortnight; we must be relieved by then, if his Grace would have this castle. It will take five hundred horse to do the relieving — for the rest, we can sally and aid them. Is the messenger one that can remember so much?” ‘‘Aye; one of the countess’ guard, and not thick-skulled.”’ ‘Good. Bid him begone forthright.” Benedetto hastened away; and, turning mine eyes and my attention to the parley between the Countess Anita and her spouse, I perceived that the time of formalities was long since passed. As I spoke my last words to Benedetto, the noble lady between the guns had called forth something which I had not heard but which, by its tone, was no compliment; and now, unintelligible to me by reason of his mangled tongue, the count was bellowing a torrent of words in reply. What was their purport, I have never COMmMiCoooks C©