can die!'
'It will be the ruin of your family. What will happen to your wife and children if you are dead?'
'If need be they can die too. No one who bears the name of Orsi fears death.'
'You cannot sacrifice their lives in cold blood.'
'I cannot kill a fellow-man in cold blood. Ah, my friend, you don't know what is in me. I am not religious; I have never meddled with priests; but something in my heart tells me not to do this thing. I don't know what it is—conscience or honour—but it is speaking clearly within me.'
He had his hand on his heart, and was speaking very earnestly. We followed his eyes and saw them resting on a crucifix.
'No, Bartolomeo,' he said, 'one cannot forget God. He is above us always, always watching us; and what should I say to Him with the blood of that man on my hands? You may say what you like, but, believe me, it is best to be honest and straight-forward, and to the utmost of one's ability to carry out the doctrines which Christ has left us, and upon which he set the seal with the blood of His hands and feet and the wound in His side.'
Bartolomeo looked at me as if it were hopeless to attempt anything against such sentiments. But I signed him energetically to go on; he hesitated. It would be almost tragic if he gave the matter up before Checco had time to surrender. However, he proceeded,—
'You are a good man, Checco, and I respect you deeply for what you have said. But if you will not stir to save yourself, think of the others.'
'What do you mean?' said Checco, starting as if from a dream.
'Have you the right to sacrifice your fellowmen? The citizens of Forli depend on you.'
'Ah, they will easily find another leader. Why, you yourself will be of greater assistance to them than I have ever been. How much better will they be in your strong hands than with me!'
'No, no! You are the only man who has power here. You could not be replaced.'
'But what can I do more than I am doing. I do not seek to leave Forli; I will stay here and protect myself as much as I can. I cannot do more.'
'Oh, Checco, look at their state. It cannot continue. They are ground down now; the Count must impose these taxes, and what will be their condition then? The people are dying in their misery, and the survivors hold happy those who die. How can you look on and see all this? And you, you know Girolamo will kill you; it is a matter of time, and who can tell how short a time? Perhaps even now he is forging the weapon of your death.'
'My death! My death!' cried Checco. 'All that is nothing!'
'But what will be the lot of the people when you are gone? You are the only curb on Riario's tyranny. When you are dead, nothing will keep him back. And when once he has eased his path by murder he will not fail to do so again. We shall live under perpetual terror of the knife. Oh, have mercy on your fellow-citizens.'
'My country!' said Checco. 'My country!'
'You cannot resist this. For the good of your country you must lead us on.'
'And if my soul—'
'It is for your country. Ah! Checco, think of us all. Not for ourselves only, but for our wives, our innocent children, we beg you, we implore. Shall we go down on our knees to you?'
'Oh, my God, what shall I do?' said Checco, extremely agitated.
'Listen to my father, Checco!' said Scipione. 'He has right on his side.'
'Oh, not you, too! Do not overwhelm me. I feel you are all against me. God help me! I know it is wrong, but I feel myself wavering.'
'Do not think of yourself, Checco; it is for others, for our liberty, our lives, our all, that we implore you.'
'You move me terribly. You know how I love my country, and how can I resist you, appealing on her behalf!'
'Be brave, Checco!' said Matteo.
'It is the highest thing of all that we ask you,' added Bartolomeo. 'Man can do nothing greater. We ask you to sacrifice yourself, even your soul, may be, for the good of us all.'
Checco buried his face in his hands and groaned,—
'Oh, God! Oh, God!'
Then, with a great sigh, he rose and said,—
'Be it as you will.... For the good of my country!'
'Ah, thanks, thanks!'
Bartolomeo took him in his arms and kissed him on both cheeks. Then suddenly Checco tore himself away.
'But listen to this, all of you. I have consented, and now you must let me speak. I swear that in this thing I have no thought of myself. If I alone were concerned I would not move; I would wait for the assassin's knife calmly. I would even sacrifice my wife and children, and God knows how dearly I love them! I would not stir a finger to save myself. And I swear, by all that is most holy to me, that I am actuated by no base motive, no ambition, no thought of self, no petty revenge. I would willingly forgive Girolamo everything. Believe me, my friends, I am honest. I swear to you that I am only doing this for the welfare of the men I love, for the sake of you all, and—for Liberty.'
They warmly pressed his hands.
'We know it, Checco, we believe it. You are a great and a good man.'
A little later we began to discuss the ways and means. Everyone had his plan, and to it the others had the most conclusive objections. We all talked together, each one rather annoyed at the unwillingness of the others to listen to him, and thinking how contemptible their ideas were beside his own. Checco sat silent. After a while Checco spoke,—
'Will you listen to me?'
We held our tongues.
'First of all,' he said, 'we must find out who is with us and who is against us.'
'Well,' interrupted Scipione, 'there are the two soldiers, Jacopo Ronchi and Lodovico Pansecchi; they are furious with the Count, and said to me a long while since that they would willingly kill him.'
'Our six selves and those two make eight.'
'Then there are Pietro Albanese, and Paglianino, and Marco Scorsacana.'
They were devoted adherents of the house of Orsi, and could be trusted to follow the head of the family to the bottomless pit.
'Eleven,' counted Bartolomeo.
'And then—'
Each mentioned a name till the total was brought to seventeen.
'Who else?' asked Matteo.
'That is enough,' said Checco. 'It is as foolish to have more than necessary as to have less. Now, once more, who are they?'
The names were repeated. They were all known enemies of the Count, and most of them related to the Orsi.
'We had better go to them separately and talk to them.'
'It
