cried Andrea. 'For God's sake be quick! They will be here in a moment!'
I looked to the door, and Pietro, seeing my thoughts, said,—
'Not that way! Here is another door which leads along a passage into a side street.'
He lifted the tapestry and showed a tiny door, which he opened. I ran to old Orso and shook him.
'Wake up!' I said; 'wake up and come with me!'
'What is it?' he asked.
'Never mind; come with me!'
I took his arm and tried to lift him out of his chair, but he caught hold of the handles and would not stir.
'I will not move,' he said. 'What is it?'
'The mob is coming to sack the Palace, and if they find you here they will kill you.'
'I will not move. I am Orso Orsi. They dare not touch me.'
'Be quick! be quick!' screamed Andrea from the window. 'The first of them have appeared in the street. In a moment they will be here.'
'Quick! quick!' cried Pietro.
Now the roar had got so loud that it buzzed in one's ears, and every instant it grew louder.
'Be quick! be quick!'
'You must come,' I said, and Pietro joined his prayers to my commands, but nothing would move the old man.
'I tell you I will not fly. I am the head of my house. I am Orso Orsi. I will not fly like a dog before the rabble.'
'For your son's sake—for our sake,' I implored. 'We shall be killed with you.'
'You may go. The door is open for you. I will stay alone.'
He seemed to have regained his old spirit. It was as if a last flame were flickering up.
'We will not leave you,' I said. 'I have been put by Checco to protect you, and if you are killed I must be killed too. Our only chance is to fly.'
'Quick! quick!' cried Andrea. 'They are nearly here!'
'Oh, master, master,' cried Pietro, 'accept the means he offers you!'
'Be quick! be quick!'
'Would you have me slink down a back passage, like a thief, in my own house? Never!'
'They have reached the doors,' cried Andrea.
The noise was deafening below. The gates had been closed, and we heard a thunder of blows; stones were thrown, sticks beaten against the iron; then they seemed to take some great instrument and pound against the locks. Again and again the blows were repeated, but at last there was a crash. A mighty shout broke from the people, and we heard a rush. I sprang to the door of the Orso's room and locked and bolted it, then, calling the others to help me, I dragged a heavy chest against it. We placed another chest on the first, and dragged the bedstead up, pushing it against the chests.
We were only just in time, for, like water rushing at once through every crevice, the mob surged up and filled every corner of the house. They came to our door and pushed it. To their surprise it did not open. Outside someone cried,—
'It's locked!'
The hindrance excited them, and the crowd gathered greater outside.
'Break it open,' they cried.
Immediately heavy blows thundered down on the lock and handle.
'For God's sake, come,' I said, turning to Orso. He did not answer. There was no time to lose, and I could not conquer his obstinacy.
'Then I shall force you,' I cried, catching hold of both his arms and dragging him from the chair. He held on as tight as he could, but his strength was nothing against mine. I caught hold of him, and was lifting him in my arms when the door was burst open. The rush of people threw down the barricade, and the crowd surged into the room. It was too late. I made a rush for the little door with Orso, but I could not get to it. They crowded round me with a shout.
'Take him,' I cried to Pietro, 'while I defend you.'
I drew my sword, but immediately a bludgeon fell on it and it smashed in two. I gave a shout and rushed at my assailants, but it was hopeless. I felt a crushing blow on my head. I sank down insensible.
XXXIII
When I opened my eyes I found myself on a bed in a darkened room. By my side was sitting a woman. I looked at her, and wondered who she was.
'Who the devil are you?' I asked, somewhat impolitely.
At the words someone else stepped forward and bent over me. I recognised Andrea; then I recollected what had occurred.
'Where is the Orso?' I asked. 'Is he safe?'
'Do you feel better?' he said.
'I am all right. Where is the Orso?' I tried to sit up, but my head swam. I felt horribly sick and sank back.
'What is the matter?' I moaned.
'Only a broken head,' said Andrea, with a little smile. 'If you had been a real serving-man, instead of a fine gentleman masquerading, you wouldn't think twice about it.'
'Have pity on my infirmities, dear boy,' I murmured faintly. 'I don't pretend that my head is as wooden as yours.'
Then he explained.
'When you were beaten down they made a rush for the old master and bore him off.'
'Oh!' I cried. 'I promised Checco to look after him. What will he think!'
'It was not your fault.' At the same time he renewed the bandages round my head and put cooling lotions on.
'Good boy!' I said, as I enjoyed the cold water on my throbbing head.
'When I saw the blows come down on your head, and you fall like a stone, I thought you were killed. With you soft-headed people one never knows!'
'It appears to amuse you,' I said. 'But what happened afterwards?'
'In the excitement of their capture they paid no attention to us, and my uncle and I dragged you through the little door, and eventually carried you here. You are a weight!'
'And where am I?'
'In my mother's house, where you are requested to stay as long as it suits your convenience.'
'And Orso?'
'My uncle went out to see, and reports that they have put him in prison. As yet no harm has been done him. The palace has been sacked; nothing but the bare walls remain.'
At that moment
