Adventure, June 1911 — page 71: what you’re looking at

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

sir John Hawkwood time, then she turned her head and looked atme. ‘Perhaps, Sir John,” she said, “you have thought better of my offer to out-bid the Duke of Padua? Is it of that you wish to 4peak?”’ “No,” I answered grimly. Why had I sought speech with one who had such power to hurt me with every word? “Tt would have been better for you had you accepted that offer when I made it,” she murmured, and I thought there was a tinge of regret in her voice. ‘‘ Now I shall escape in spite of you, and the Prince will not show you any mercy.” ~“T do not need his mercy yet,” I an- swered more cheerfully, “‘and I hope that I never shall.” We were silent again. I turned and walked the length of the room twice or thrice, seeking for words to express the things I wished to tell her. Looking up sud- denly, I caught her regarding me with a gaze that held reluctant pity, and my thoughts went back to Violante’s strange visit. -Then I forgot all else in the con- sciousness of Madonna Giulia’s softer atti- tude toward me, the sadder look in her proud eyes, the gentler curve of her scarlet lips. It was she who broke the long silence, and I started, fearing an angry word; but her voice was curiously sad and gentle. “I wonder why you ever came to Italy, Sir John,” she said, as if to herself. “I wonder what evil fate ever brought you to Verona.” : I did not answer her, lest my voice should break the spell. “You fought bravely in France,” she went on, “you won a knight’s spurs, all men honored you. What trick of destiny turned ‘you into such a path as this? Now you will come to a most cruel end, you that might have lived out a long and honored life in your own land. It isa sad thought, and against my will it hurts me.’ “T, too, have often wondered why fate played such tricks with me,” I answered soberly, ‘‘and have cursed destiny and my- self. But now, Princess, I am content.” She would not understand, I knew, that I was content because I was now standing between her and Antonio della Scala, the one defense that kept her evil kinsman from her. Surely this was payment enous for all the sufferings of my life. The trouble in her beautiful face was growing steadily. She clasped her hands 257 and pressed them against her heart. “’There is something under all this that I can not understand,’”’ she said, looking at me strangely. “There is more in you than I can read, Sir John. I have felt it from the first, and struggled against the belief, and tried to think you entirely evil. But to-night— when it is too late—T find myself doubting. and regretting.’ The pride was allgone from her eyes now, and only anxiety re- mained. ‘Sir John, ? she said in a low, un- certain voice, ‘‘tell me the truth! Tell me why you brought me to this place!” “Will you hear me without anger?” I asked. ve Will you listen with an open mind to a strange story?” She bowed her head. answered. “Then you shall hear,” said I, “and I swear by the soul of the Black Prince that I will say no word that is not the truth!” “T will try,” she CHAPTER XXII FOR LOVE OF A WOMAN OR a time there was silence in the dim room, while I gathered my thoughts and tried to still the beating of my heart, and the Princess sat motionless, gazing at me with that strange look of trouble always in her eyes. At last I spoke. “Before I tell you why I brought you here,” I said, ‘“‘there is something else that you should know—something that has ruled my actions for a long time, that has led us both where we stand to-night. Will you listen, Princess?”’ ; “Yes,” she said, in a low voice. “YT have been in Verona for some eight months,” I began. ‘‘I came here for no love of the Scaligeri, but because Prince Antonio offered me good payment for my sword. You know what I am—a free companion, wandering where my service takes me, fight- ing now for one man and now another. It is not a very noble profession, though as I have practised it there is no dishonesty in the trade. As for the life I have led, you know that, too—I should be foolish to de- fend it. I heard you tell O’Meara what you held me—a swaggering cut-throat, a drunken mercenary.” “Perhaps,” she said wistfully, “‘I did you wrong.” “No, you were right,” I answered, for I hadswornasolemn oath that sheshould hear Go DOOKS ANUC (©