Читать книгу W. Somerset Maugham: Novels, Short Stories, Plays & Travel Sketches (33 Titles In One Edition) - Уильям Сомерсет Моэм - Страница 51

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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 Pietro came in panting.

'Two of the conspirators have been taken.'

'My God, not Checco or Matteo!'

'No; Pietro Albanese and Marco Scorsacana.'

'How did the others escape?'

'I don't know. All I heard was that the horse of Marco broke down, and Pietro refused to leave him. At a village close to the frontier Pietro was recognised, and they were both arrested and sent here for the sake of the reward.'

'My God!'

'They were brought into the town on asses, with their hands tied behind their backs, and the mob yelled with derision, and threw stones and refuse at them.'

'And now?'

'They have been taken to the prison, and—'

'Well?'

'The execution is to take place to-morrow.'

I groaned. Pietro Albanese and Marco had been like Damon and Pythias. I shuddered as I thought of the fate in store for them. They had been conspicuous in their hatred of the Count, and it was they who had helped to throw the body into the piazza. I knew there would be no forgiveness in Caterina's heart, and all the night I wondered what vengeance she was meditating.