'No, Checco, I will not come. Go alone. They will not touch me. I am Orso Orsi. They will not touch me; they dare not. Go alone, and give my love to Clarice.'
Clarice was Checco's wife. He kept silence for a while, then he broke out again,--
'I am the servant placed here to serve you instead of Fabrizio. My name is Fabio.'
'Your name is Fabio?' he asked, looking at me.
'No, it is not! Why do you tell me your name is Fabio? I know your face. You are not a serving-man.'
'No, no. You are not Fabio. I know your face. Who are you?'
'Who are you?' he asked again querulously. 'I cannot remember whom you are. Why don't you tell me? Can't you see that I am an old man? Why don't you tell me?'
His voice broke into the moan, and I thought he would cry. He had only seen me twice, but among his few visitors the faces of those he saw remained with him, and he recognised me partly.
'I am Filippo Brandolini,' I said. 'I have remained here to look after you and see that no harm happens. Checco wished to stay himself, but we insisted on his going.'
'Oh, you are a gentleman,' he answered. 'I am glad of that.'
Then, as if the talk had tired him, he sank deeper down in his chair and fell into a dose.
I sent Andrea, the steward's nephew, to see what was happening in the town, and Pietro and I sat in the large window talking in undertones. Suddenly Pietro stopped and said,--
We both listened. A confused roar in the distance; it resembled the raging of the sea very far away. I opened the window and looked out. The roar became louder, louder, and at last we discovered that it was the sound of many voices.
There was a scrambling up the stairs, the noise of running feet. The door was burst violently open, and Andrea rushed in.
'Save yourselves!' he cried. 'Save yourselves!'
'They are coming to sack the Palace. The Countess has given them leave, and the whole populace is up.'
The roar increased, and we could distinctly hear the shouting.
'Be quick!' 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.