ye IS yas Pets eat = sdebefetebebedetebedetaheteetatebeeteguteete THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE a BY THE SAME THE LION’S BROOD OF T ETC. * THE SECRET ” ” VES iy Ww OD) OY CSS THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE A TALE OF PERUGIA BY DUFFIELD OSBORNE WITH A FRONTISPIECE BY F. LUIS MORA AND ILLUSTRATIONS FROM PHOTOGRAPHS NEW YORK FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY PUBLISHERS Copyright, 1907, é By Freperick A. Stokes Co Copyright, 1902, TO THE MARCHESA ISABELLA GUGLIELMI WITH PLEASANT MEMORIES OF THE HOSPITALITY OF ISOLA MAGGIORE ash by IkeIk ON s aoe Foe Are CM CONTENTS . In THE SALA DEL Camsio ‘¢THe Perucian”? Menps Unwise Pians witu Wisr Counser . . Messer Ercorte Paints a Rose . Rarraetto Sees witu Boru Eyes . Tue Lapy Orravia Wits . . Monna Crecca ann Sanpro Consuttr . Tae Lavy Orravia Has Her Witt . Messer Ercote Hears a Sone . Tue Buinp Srvcer SEEs THE ‘‘ORFEO”’ . Beneatn tHe Casa Bactuiont . Messer Encore Says a Prayer . Gtanpaoto Views a Fresco . A Dream anv a Festa . 9? . Tur Great TREASON Salts. . Grtanpaoto Comes Bick to Perucia . His Maeniricence Has His Jest . M SOA aN Ds Q MAY . ILLUSTRATIONS Frontispiece Frescogs By PEruGiIno In THE COLLEGIO DEL Campio (Prudence and Justice, with Fabius Maximus, Socrates, Numa Pom- pilius, Camillus, Pittacus, and Trajan). Frescors By PERvuGINo In THE COLLEGIO DEL Campio (Fortitude and Temperance, with Lucius Sicinius, Leonidas, Hora- tius Cocles, Scipio, Pericles, and Cincinnatus . Portrait oF PERUGINO, PAINTED BY HIMSELF Puxurrr in THE Duomo Portrait or RAFFAELLO, PAINTED BY HIM- SELF Patazzo Pustico, sHowine THE Lion AND GriFFIN Tue San Gtoraio or RAFFAELLO . ILLUSTRATIONS Tue Trreunau In THE COLLEGIO DEL CAMBIO Tue Cuurncu or San Erconano. . . . Tue Pisano Fountain 1n tHE Piazza... Tue Arcu or Augustus A View or THe Via Appia In PErRuGtIA Maponna ano Sarnts or Luca SiGNorELLI IN THE Duomo THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE I IN THE SALA DEL CAMBIO HE wasa slender boy, hardly above middle height, and singularly beau- tiful: the face was one that would have brought joy to eyes that watched the cameo grow from the onyx, and the little red cap, set jauntily on one side of the shock of brown hair, lent an air of mingled impertinence and mischief to its wearer. A_ black velvet doublet slashed with cherry, together with parti-colored hose of cherry and black, set off his graceful figure. All the others wore gowns of some Coy. : SS , f \ GFa Gk THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE cheap stuff, but he claimed that it | was absurd to expect one to paint beautiful things when one’s own | appearance was not at its best. As for the age of this jackanapes, a | glance at him, as he pirouetted about | the scaffolding in the Sala del Gam- bio, might have led you to guess — it at seventeen or eighteen years ; but, on the other hand, surely ‘‘ The Perugian’’ would never permit a mere boy to touch brush to the noble fresco that was to be his masterpiece. Therefore it seemed quite certain that the would-be artist must have seen twenty summers at the very least. ‘‘Beware, my Bernardino!” he cried out to one of his companions. (uefery, pue ‘snoeq4tg ‘sni[rure snifiduiog eumnyy ‘soyes90g ‘snumIxeyy sniqe | YIM cbade me eouepnig) O1quier [op o1SeT[or) oy] ut oursnieg Lq saonsau e | TIN OTE NAAG YNOVID OGOW YUIAd AW INES 14 XOW FVAD Sv! Lst¥ Ud ANY < THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE ‘“Do you not know the cost of ultramarine, and that the Master will starve you for a week if you feed that robe so bountifully >” ‘‘There is yet enough to feed your robe also, Ercole,”’ retorted the other. ‘‘Hold you him for me, Raffaello, while I touch the cherry slashes in his doublet. If his coat be black and blue, it may do pen- ance for his skin.”’ Then there was a fine scampering about the scaffolds, encouraged by bursts of mirth from those who watched the chase, until it ended by the fugitive making a flying leap from the platform on one side of the hall to that on the other—ten feet at the least — whereat the pursuers THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE halted in surprise, and the rest made the roof ring with their ‘‘ bravoes.” Suddenly an awed silence fell upon the young men; for ‘‘ The Perugian”’ himself, with two of the leading merchant of the corpora- tion, had entered, unperceived dur- ing the excitement, and now stood gazing up in amazement and white with anger at the way his pupils were using their time and his. An instant, and Master Ercole | had sprung down to the floor, and stood, cap in hand, before Messer Pietro Vannucci, with an expression at once shamefaced, deprecating, and comical. ‘‘Ts it thou playing the zany again ?’’ exclaimed Vannucci at last. [4] oO IN SS G Qary BL (snyeuurourry pue ‘soporieg ‘ordiog ‘sapsor sniyeiopyY ‘septuoey ‘snug sntony Y}IM ‘gouesoduio J, pue opnyty10,q) O1qurery Jop O1se][orT) oY} UL OUISNIOg kq saoosau gy om a Kg O THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE Ercole bowed low, until his very abasement seemed to contain some- thing of mockery, as he replied : ‘Of a truth, and wisely, my Master; in that, having been de- tected, and awaiting punishment, I may be in the better spirit to depict for you your mask of ‘ Fortitude’ — should you trust me so far.”’ The rest of the pupils shrank within themselves at their comrade’s temerity, and their wonder knew no bounds when, after a short pause, during which the eyes of the great painter wandered from the unruly assistant to his morning’s work on the fresco, he answered with none of his customary irascibility. Per- haps the boy’s beauty appealed to ° LEG: ie WE ( © a THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE the artist’s eye ; perhaps some touch in the painting mollified him, or, perhaps yet again, there had been a substantial payment that day from the worthy signors of the corpo- ration. Whatever of these or else it might be, ‘‘The Perugian”’ answered mildly : ‘It is well for pupils when they learn it is none of theirs to employ other than their master’s thoughts on their master’s work. Not that I would seek to trammel Raffaello, or to deny that thou, Ercole, shouldst use intelligently the skill] have taught thee. Onlyremember that the spirit as well as the composing is mine: which brings me to a subject con- cerning which I would speak with THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE thee —a portrait, the robe whereof I shall entrust to thy brush fora day.” He paused, and Ercole still lis- tened, cap in hand and with a more respectful manner that fitted him oddly. The others busied them- selves ostentatiously about their work, each with one eye and one ear for the speaker; while the two citizens seemed absorbed in felicitat- ing each other upon the beauty of the frescoes. ‘‘The Perugian” spoke again, addressing his patrons. ‘« Ah, signors, how shall I express my joy at the words you utter, which tell me that you do not regret your generosity, and which bid me look THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE for promptness in the payments that are to fall due! Believe me, then, itis with the greater sorrow I beg of you to excuse my further attend- ance to-day. I must see to a commission —”’ The younger of the merchants smiled; but the other, a sharp, shrewdfaced man of perhaps fifty years, frowned slightly and shook his head. ‘* Have a care, Pietro Vannucci,”’ he said, ‘‘lest eagerness for gain tempt you to essay too much, and lest all our commissions suffer there- by. Truly, we had looked to your explaining the whole design to us on this visit.” A curious expression, part pride, sz Wig, Eas Ys cae Wt SAS) ee THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE part humility, and part malice, rested on the face of Vannucci. ‘“Why, surely, Messer Dominico, I shall be pleased to wait upon you until nightfall. Harken now, Er- cole; run to the noble Prince Gianpaolo and tell him I will obey his summons at such time as the worthy Signor Dominico Baldeschi will permit.” The face of the merchant grew pale, and his jaw dropped. Then, as Ercole turned toward the door, heseemed to recover his self-control. ‘©A jest—a jest, my good Pietro!” he cried, running forward and placing a detaining hand on Ercole’s shoulder. <‘‘ Your master, my young man, is pleased to amuse TOWN WX ES THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE himself — as if I did not sufficiently love and revere the good Prince Gianpaolo Baglioni, to whom may God give long life and honor! Surely, gentle Pietro, you will attend upon the house of our noble protec- tors before you so much as squander a thought on us, their servants.” ‘«T will indeed do so, if you really desire it,’ said Vannucci. ‘‘Come, Ercole; your cloak; farewell, si- gnors. It is Raffaello Santi who >? will speak with you of the design. He had turned and passed out of the door, but Baldeschi followed and brought his mouth close to the painter’s ear. ‘‘And you will not mention my heedless words to his Magnificence, Portrait or Perucino, PAINTED BY HIMSELF Blame PHAR ° THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE my good Pietro— you that know my devotion to him, and how, had I dreamed it was he that waited, I would sooner have cut out my tongue than spoken of detention or delay ?”’ Vannucci laughed. ‘*No; if you wish it, I will not mention how unreasonable you were —only remember, Dominico Bal- deschi, that he who seeks to control Pietro Vannucci Perugino must be prepared to run counter to the will of princes.” Crestfallen, the merchant slunk back, mumbling thanks that must have tasted like imprecations in his mouth, while ‘‘ The Perugian ”’ and Ercole pursued their way down the Via di Citta. The head of the great THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE master had sunk upon his bosom and he was discoursing aloud, but as if to himself: ‘“Thou art a good youth, Ercole —a youth of promise, and I look that thou shalt paint wonderful things when I am dead. I have only one better, and him I foresee that we shall lose. It is_ thou, Ercole, who hast never so much as squinted toward Buonarotti and his follies — his sensuous, violent gods — sensuous, not pure like those of the fathers and the good Fra Angelico, now a saint in Heaven, of whom I have told you so often. Only yesterday this Raffaello of mine had the impudence to tell me that he saw much in the Chiusan. Pat) (ABER) Ge LOSING INSFN ©' be MG SRS) Q) THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE Malediction! He to see against my eyes — a kitten whose eyes have not yet opened to the ight of art! Look thou, Ercole, beware of those who would tempt thee with dainty dishes. They are fair to the look and taste — that I deny not — but they shall not nourish the soul, and it is death that must follow their partaking. Yes—thou paintest well. Itis thou |] shalt do the robe. But canst thou also overcome thy nature so far as to be discreet—to add thirty years to thosenow thine?” Hestopped short and, turning, faced his companion. Ercole looked drolly serious. ‘*Have I not kept silent since you began speech with the Signor Baldeschi? ” > Ses THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE ‘‘ Truly, yes; and it is much for thee,’’ said ‘‘ The Perugian,” smil- ing. ‘Therefore thou shalt paint the Princess Ottavia’s robe.”’ He had turned again as he spoke, | and was descending one of the nar- row streets that branched off to the right. ‘*Thou hast not seen her,” he went on; ‘‘for she is come now to Perugia for the first time, having | spent the seventeen years of her | young life at Spello.” ‘* The Princess Ottavia Baglioni!” exclaimed Ercole, and his eyes shone. ‘‘I have heard of her.” ‘‘Yes; itis the beautiful lady of Spello herself, the daughter of the high and mighty lord, Gianpaolo, THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE and one whom it behooves silly boys to look aside from. Mark you, it is the robe thou art to paint —not the face. The portrait is for a wedding-gift to her uncle, the Lord Astorre, in honor of whose approaching nuptials she is come to our city.” “THE PERUGIAN” MENDS UNWISE PLANS WITH WISE COUNSEL ‘THEY had reached a small piazza that lay between the gates of San Carlo and Eburnea, and before them rose a cluster of lofty buildings, above whose doors were carven in threefold cognizance the Perugian griffin, the Guelphic lion, and the azure with golden bar of the Ba- glioni. An aged servitor, with griffin’s head embroidered upon his doublet, answered the artist's summons, and, with a gesture of recognition, threw open the door. Then, casting a hasty but searching glance at the pupil, he turned and hobbled away. ew KHOR ne THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE ‘*] will announce your coming,” he said. ‘“Once again, madcap, let me warn thee, no tricks!” whispered Vannucci, impressively, when they were left alone. ‘‘The Baglioni brook no liberties. A single indis- | creet word might be thy ruin and mine,’ and he glanced around at the walls of the court. ‘‘Do not fear for me, Master,” said Ercole. ‘‘I can run and leap like a goat, and Raffaello and I sleep in the attic of the second house from this. It would be rare sport to escape all the swords of Baglioni; still I forego the pleasure : —for your sake, my Mas- ter, I will not speak to the lady C a () LiNee Keay NS THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE oS of the love I already bear her, though the unspoken word suffo- cate me; no, and I[ will not so much as kiss the tip of her little finger — for which, who knows? she may not commend your caution’’; and he thrust his cap far over on one side of his shock of curls, and strutted around the enclosure, while Vannucci com- pressed his lips to restrain his agitation and tried with warning gestures to check the flow of words. Ercole skipped up close to him. ‘‘Ah, my Master; you are no minister of state or ambassador, like the wise Messer Nicolo Machia- velli of the Florentines. If you Le i > a AG. eS ey, S Y THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE cried out to me to be silent, only the spies at the lower windows might hear it, but when you shake your fist and put your finger to your lip every crevice that looks upon the court must perceive that I am talk- ing treasons. See, now, here comes old Cerberus. [I amdumb. Soon I will be blind if you will have it so.” Annoyed, indignant, terrified, but powerless to change his plans at this hour, Vannucci followed his conductor, and Ercole came after, uninvited, ignored, and with a look of mock humility upon his face. Up several carved stairways, through long halls, until at last they paused before a curtained doorway, ie WN C ae THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE opened for them at that moment by a woman older even and more decrepit than the porter. ‘Tt is the Lady Ottavia? Ah, how lovely she is!” whispered Ercole in his master’s ear; then, seeing that the great painter was really frightened at hisindiscretions, and being also interested in the appearance of the young princess he was about to see, he held his peace and resumed his expression of lugubrious gravity. A step for- ward and they came upon a pretty picture indeed: a girl leaning far over the arm of a great Gothic chair in which she had perched herself, and striving to rescue a small vol- ume from the tender mercies of an \ \ " wiGars Se Hi (| eee : ROK THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE angry spaniel, who seemed to regard it as a rival for his mistress’s favor. Her back was toward them, as she peered down behind the chair, but the poise of readiness to pounce upon the abductor, should he venture out from his refuge beneath, showed the lines of her form in all the charm of slender and girlish grace. A cloud of hair, half loosed from its net of pearls and golden with the purest tint of the Etruscan refiners, floated across her neck and cheek, while the broad sleeve of a blue gown, through whose slashes the white of her satin vest seemed ready to burst, trailed almost to the floor in her eagerness to effect a capture or a rescue. = vs THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE A. footfall—a sudden intuition —a whisper of Messer Cupid’s — who knows? warned the lady of the presence of strangers. Like a flash | she sat upright; digmity, become almost forbidding in her conscious- ness of its former lack, drew her face into lines whereat one hardly — | knew whether to be frightened or amused. The gown and golden hair were still sadly tumbled, and the spaniel growled beneath the chair and worried the hated volume. Vannucci and the duenna had bowed their heads in grave deference, ob- livious of all but the duty owed to wy Si; rank and the blindness owed to its | relaxations. Ercole stood bolt- upright and gazed spellbound. He VINY =. SOAS Ve, ( ; ay ey Ni aR, S ) EDIE RES THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE had, indeed, snatched his cap from his head, then he had dropped it on the floor and clasped his hands in utter unconsciousness of the fervor of his gaze. Neither of his com- panions noted his attitude, so intent were they on convincing the young lady that they had observed nothing of dog or book or theft or ambuscade; but she had let her eyes, golden also like her hair, wander lightly from these two, and now they rested | thoughtfully on the younger man. - Gradually the look of prim dignity melted away and her cheeks took on a shade of rose; the tremulous forerunners of a smile crept into the corners of her mouth; thenshe grew white and blushed again. At last THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE she spoke, to Vannucci, but with eyes still fixed on Ercole, to whose ears her voice came as from the lute of Heaven. ‘“You must pardon me, Messer Pietro, that I have not received you with more fitting ceremoniousness. Monna Cecca will tell you ; it is all Amanto’s fault: he is a very wicked dog, and it was my uncle, the Lord Troilo, who gave me the beautiful book of Messer Petrarca.”’ Vannucci and the old woman were bowing low again and mumbling protests that all proper ceremony had been observed and that the mere delight of gazing on the beauty of the Princess Ottavia was enough to make one blind to any default, THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE had such existed. Suddenly they were conscious of a quick move- ment. Like the stoop of a falcon, Ercole had darted upon the revenge- ful Amanto, who was taking ad- vantage of the seeming diversion in his favor to sneak away unobserved and enjoy the sonnets of Messer Petrarca in appropriate seclusion: there was a momentary scuffle, an indignant snarl, and the rescuer knelt on one knee before the Gothic arm- chair, holding out the wounded but still living volume, while the baffled culprit danced about in a frenzy of rage, but ata safe distance, and made the walls ring with his indignation. The old woman gazed, shocked and speechless, while the great THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE painter’s anxiety was not unmodified by a consciousness that, as a com- position, the picture was more than charming. As for the lady, she was now full mistress of the situation, and her smile added new beauty to | her voice. ‘‘Andwhoismy brave knight who | rescues the gentle poet from the | teeth of the wicked dragon ?”’ Vannucci hastened to answer, fear-_| ful of what reply his pupil might | make: ‘It as one of my young men, who, by your noble father’s per- mission, and with that of your Magnificence, will paint the folds of the robe in the portrait your beauty has set upon my poor canvas : Messer Saale THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE Ercole da Passigno, a good youth and clever, though country-bred and prone to heedless indiscretions, which [I pray your Noble Magnifi- cence may pardon for the sake of the love, devotion, and reverence I bear your house.”’ ‘ THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE of a mountain brook, broke in upon his ecstasy. ‘See, Monna Cecca ; 1s my robe truly of the blue [ bade you tire me in? Itis blue as the sea unto my eyes also, but our good Messer Ercole is a painter, and his brush proclaims me clad in cloth of gold.” Rudely awakened from his rey- eries, Ercole gazed blankly from the portrait to the model. When had he mixed the gold upon his palette ? —or had he done it at all? — yet truly all that he had painted was golden like her hair; and the blue strokes with which his master had sketched in the garment she wore had wellnigh vanished, or showed but as a shadowy imridescence. THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE | The effect was strange, unearthly, beautiful. He was looking into her eyes at last — eyes brimming over with the laughter that curled the corners of | her mouth; and a new madness came to his brain and drove out that which had been its tenant. She was not one of God’s angels, after all. She was a Princess of the house of Baglioni; a mortal like himself, fashioned to love and be loved. What should prevent - him seizing her in his arms — up to the roof! — out and over — down into the attic he shared with Raffa- ello? —and whither then? Ah yes ; then he and his friend would hold the stair against all the bravoes in ZF Wi, THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE Perugia; and, having won, they | would be lords of the city. The harsh cackle of Monna Cecca broke in upon his dream. ‘¢ What basketful of follies is this ? | you little imp-of-nothing-at-all! Is it to obtain the punishment of an old woman that your master’s pupil plies his art? and here I have been speaking wise and prudent things ! and under my very eyes—ah! how shall this day’s work end for me?— oully-— oulne Ercole sat still under this tirade, like one newly awakened, but the Lady Ottavia spoke soothingly, hav- ing banished the laughter from her mouth and eyes : ‘Nay, be wise, mother, with EZ PA RR SO SO THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE your own wisdom, and do not send the young man away because he has fallen into a very pardonable error. See, rather, how necessary it is that he should correct it — lest others find it thus and wonder.”’ Without more ado, and as if the matter were settled once for all, she resumed her pose; only her eyes met Ercole’s for a moment and saw in them gratitude and a strange new word as well — a word that had never come to her before, but which she saw now, and, seeing, knew that she had known it well long before sight or hearing or thought had dwelt with her. Then she blushed and looked down, and Ercole mixed his colors anew and fell furiously ee eH THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE to work, while Monna Cecca grum- bled and shook her head and at last grew silent. Suddenly her mistress addressed her, asif in an outburst of thoughts that the long silence had bred : ‘«Truly, good Monna Cecca, I have decided that I will not wed the Malatesta.” The duenna’s eyes grew round despite their wrinkles and their lids drooping with age. LErcole’s heart gave a great leap in his bosom. ‘‘But your father —the gentle lord, Gianpaolo—>”’ gasped the old woman. ‘* My father loves and will never compel me,”’ pursued the girl, with a pretty air of decision that matched THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE well with her lineage. ‘‘ The Ba- glioni do not drive easily, and I have decided that the Malatesta is an evil man — and that there is another I love better.”’ She was looking far away, out through the window, as she spoke. Monna Cecca, old and withered as she was, seemed struggling with an apoplexy. Ercole had shot one glance at the Princess’s averted face and felt that it was consciously averted. Then his eyes dropped to _ his palette and he strove to collect his thoughts. A noise at the door interrupted the new silence that had fallen upon the group. A man stood there, looking from one to the other with piercing eyes deeply set THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE } in a face that was stern, cold, haughty, and yet strangely beau- tiful. His tall, slender figure, dressed in black velvet relieved by | slashes of red satin, added to the impression of a personality that the artist would glory in and the pru- dent man take good care to stand well with, or, better yet, stand far from : — a human tiger or leop- ard — beautiful, strong, relentless. Ercole was no coward, but he knew, for a brief moment, all the power of terror. Surely every thought, every dream, must be legible to those sombre eyes. What then? Well, he would be stabbed. Many men had died thus, and why should he fear? The pain was trifling, \ NOS ee ee a ee Puupit 1n THE Duomo THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE and he had confessed to old Fra Geronimo at the Duomo only two days ago, since when he could hardly have accumulated a very long stay in Purgatory. Thus, rendered more serene by an analyt- ical consideration of the worst out- come of his perl, and by the consciousness that now was the time to show forth his noble blood before the most lovely eyes in Perugia, he rose, palette in hand, and made an obeisance so profound as to be almost ironical. Monna Cecca was mumbling her beads behind her skirt, and even the Lady Ottavia wore a pallor on her cheeks that her smiling greeting could not quite cover. NEN THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE ‘“It is most gracious in you, sweet father, to come unannounced. What think you of my portrait?” Though the Lord Guianpaolo seemed to smile, yet it changed scarce a line of his inscrutable face, as, turning slowly from Ercole’s to his daughter’s greeting, he moved forward with a step half gliding and full of power — still the great cat in every action — and stood ponder- ing before the easel. There was silence for a moment. ‘« It is indeed yourself, my Otta- via,” he said at last. ‘* When I have said that, I have said all. It is very beautiful.”’ Then to Ercole: ‘“ Young sir, my steward will give you a purse for your master and by Os THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE a largess for yourself as you go out.” There was no change in his manner or voice, but Ercole felt a little shudder pass through him. ‘‘Your Magmificence is_ satis- fied?” he said; ‘‘and yet,” with a dash of his old boldness, ‘‘I had it in purpose to help the robe still more.” ‘¢Tam satisfied. I have said that the portrait of my daughter is per- | fect. For me, then, it is also finished — and for you.” There was cold steel in the tones now, and it pierced like the point of a rapier. Still the face had not changed, except that the speaker stood at full gaze. THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE Again bowing, to take the thrust with a better grace, Ercole replied : ‘) Bee COS ee 5 : Maw LX Vil THE LADY OTTAVIA HAS HER WILL Durine these days, observed by none save a few monks, the As- sumption at San Severo grew apace. It was a work upon which ‘‘ The Perugian”’ had done little save the cartoon and the heads of the prin- cipal figures — for the convent was not rich. ‘To Ercole had fallen the faces of angels bending down to welcome the Mother of their King | into their august assemblage, or bearing up her blessed form upon | their hands and wings; and _ to these the young painter had im- parted such beauty that the good brothers gazed wondering, enrap- tured, blessing God that He had THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE indeed permitted them to look upon beings from His own glorious house- hold depicted for His servants’ hap- piness and confident repose. A day more had come and well- nigh gone. Who but Brother Benedetto, that watched at the chapel gate, saw the three visitors who demanded ad- mittance when dusk was falling? —two women,—he knew they were women, despite his dim eyes and however closely they were -veiled and masked, and he knew well the livery of the Baglioni and the badge upon the breast and shoulder and cap of the bravo who guarded them. Recognizing it he trembled, [ 89 | THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE and, when he of the high and mighty house whispered in his ear words of an appointed meeting for private confession in the closet against the chapel, Brother Bene- detto only nodded and pointed, as if eager to pass such visitors into other hands and presences. These unavoidable infractions of rules, he deemed, were for higher powers to pass upon, and if the meeting were by appointment— well, then there was no need for him to bear word li of it. He would confess and do the prescribed penance: an easy escape enough. Meanwhile Sandro led his charges to a little closet, and, the women having hurried within, he closed THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE the door and stood in the passage, that he might bar even priestly interruption. Drawing the curtain aside, Otta- via looked out, trembling, into the chapel. In every corner of the vaulted room lay the fast gathering dark- ness; the paintings on the walls seemed vague and formless, the altars loomed dim in the shadows : but it was none of these things she noted. Ercole was there, and her eager eyes flew to him. To these three visitors what different thoughts were present. Sandro, in the pas- sage, thought of young Simonetto and wondered which lady of Madonna Lavinia’s household this ae CE VW DIN Oe Ome THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE was — for that she was such he felt well assured. Not that he cared, but only because it was his business to think such things. Monna Cecca waited impatiently for the hour of Sb Ercole’s outgoing, when he should surely break the charm that held her SS { : MG sweet lady so unworthily and at so A much peril. Ottavia thought noth- ing. Even her gratitude for this indulgent connivance of her nurse had left her mind. Ercole sat upon a low stool before his work, now indistinguishable in the gloom; his bowed head rested upon his folded arms, and his dark hair fell about his face. He sighed deeply. Then he turned toward one of the little altars; and, as he [ 92 ] GO) we —_—~ G O MG THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE crossed the room, the last ray of light, shining through a narrow window, fell upon a face older by years than when Ottavia had seen it last in its spirit of mingled boyish bravado and chivalric devotion. He threw himself on his knees before some sculptured saint who shone ghostly in the darkness. Several moments passed, and then, rising to his feet, he walked quickly from the chapel. Monna Cecca was plucking nervously at Ottavia’s gown. ‘* Quick, quick now!” she said. ‘¢To the other window with you! You shall see him go out by the postern.”’ Ottavia’s eyes were brimming with tears, and the gladness of her yO, (@) Oo WS Z) 9 YG Ke THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE face, as she turned, pierced the old woman’s heart like a pomard thrust. She wondered, too, and even wa- vered in her hope. But no, he would surely fail if her judgment of a face and carriage were aught. | There had been no space for her | also to look through the window _ into the chapel; — he would fail, and her nursling would be happy, and the boy, too, would live — all of which was well. And now the young monk had un- _ barred the postern, and Ercole glided out, knowing nothing of those who saw him go. He was vaguely con- scious that a girl with black eyes, big and sparkling, stood before him and smiled and held out a flower. THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE Ottavia saw him put out his hand and take it with a murmured, ‘‘ May the saints bless you,” and she saw him turn aside to pass on, for the girl had planted herself in his path. The effort to detain him seemed hardly to break his stride, and he hurried away, his head drooping upon his breast as he walked. Astonished, Sandro’s accomplice gazed after him and took a few steps as if to follow, while Ottavia, at her post by the window, / clenched both her hands tight. | Then she gave a contented little sigh and the girl in the street uttered an angry hiss and stamped her foot. They had both seen the flower drop from Ercole’s fingers as he vanished in the shadows of the houses. MESSER ERCOLE HEARS A SONG IN their attic that night it was Raffaello who laughed and chattered of nothings, while Ercole sat with deaf ears and knitted brows, pon- dering — ‘‘ Matters of statecraft )”’ Rising at last, he threw out both arms as if to be rid of thoughts, | like a dog that shakes himself, leaping from the water. ‘The sky hangs low upon my heart to-night,” he said. ‘* What manner of air is this that we breathe )”’ He turned toward the door. Raffaello sprang up, with eyes at once grown serious, and laid a detaining hand upon his sleeve. THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE ‘« It is better to breathe this than to breathe no air at all.” Ercole shook his head slowly. ‘“You do not truly think so,” he said; ‘‘ but whether you do or no, my demon, as your philoso- phers held, beckons me to the streets to-night.” ‘«] pray you —” ‘Pray for me, if you will. Per- haps I shall go to the Casa Baglioni. Is it not to-night they play the ‘Orfeo’ of the Florentine ?”’ He spoke with a ring of defiance in his voice. Then it softened, and he went on dreamily : ‘“It was the poor Messer Orfeo who lost his love because he could not forbear to look upon her. I, THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE too, am minded to look, and if the Baglioni be as cruel as the wicked Prince Pluto, I promise you I shall at least return with her to the shades.” ‘Tt is madness,” cried Raffaello. ‘*Then this madness and I are one.” They stood facing each other: Raffaello, alert, seeming to weigh in his mind what argument or force might check the project; Ercole with the inlooking eyes of one in a trance—a sleep-waker. Suddenly he turned, sprang through the door- way and, hurling it to behind him, dashed headlong down the stair. Raffaello, lulled into a sense of safety by the mood or craft of his THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE friend, scarce gathered himself to follow until the footsteps rang dis- tant on the stones below. Then he too rushed down and, reaching the street, paused, gazing right and left into the hurrying © crowd. He ran toward the Casa Baglioni, but the pikemen stopped — him and forbade his passing before it, lest his feet should soil the © rich carpets spread there for the guests. He dared not cry out, or even ask questions that might draw attention and excite inquiry. Real- izing, at last, that his friend, sane or mad, had escaped him and must take what chance the saints sent, he returned slowly to their attic, minded now to prayers for DESI =N THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE Ercole’s safety and again to curses upon his folly. Meanwhile the truant, divining that Raffaello would pursue in the other direction, ran up toward the corso and, paying little heed to the anger of those he jostled, soon reached the main street of the town. There, feeling safer against pursuit, he turned toward the piazza and held his way at a more moderate ace. Ercole had spoken truly of his desire to escape the burden of oppressive thoughts. No definite plan had prompted his act save the one wish to go out under the sky ; only his defiant threat that he would go to the Casa Baglioni, to VZZVIq aHL NI NIVINAOY ONVSIq aH], POE PO, Peace RIE sesamiae. ¥ THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE - Ottavia, had thrust the idea into his head, and now it kept surging, surging there with each pulse of blood that seemed to fill his skull to the bursting. Yes, he would go, he would see her; why not? Who should stay him ? only how? how? He had reached the piazza at last. The crowd was dense enough, though less so than in the narrow streets that led to the houses of the Baglioni. He made his way toward a group clustered about Pisano’s fountain, whence came the music of a lute and a voice singing the words of a villotta. Something in their sadness, so foreign to the sentiment of rustic dance songs, attracted him; but THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE the peasants and town rabble sensed none of this. So be the musician marked the time well, they danced and laughed and exchanged ribald jests and were content to give him | coppers. Ercole listened. The singer seemed a man little older than himself, with clothes that were at once gay and old and very clean. He was repeating the song now at the command of his patrons : | ‘* Many there are who when they hear me sing _ Cry: There goes one whose joy runs o’er in song; But I pray God to give me succoring, For when I sing ’t is then I grieve full strong.” ‘«It is I could sing villottas were it only grief that bred them,” thought Ercole. He drew nearer, THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE and at that moment the dancers seemed to weary ; the music ceased, and, casting a few coins into the musician's cap, they moved away. As the man took the money Ercole looked at him more closely. Surely his were the motions of the blind, — ah! yes, and now he remembered that he had heard Raffaello tell of such an one who had come in from somewhere on the country- side — perhaps from the North — he could not recall. His eyes wandered to the fountain that lay clear for a moment in the glare of the torches and cressets, and he fell to tracing the reliefs carved there : brave deeds of King Saul and King David and the holy prophets THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE of God’s word, and, strangely min- gled with them, pictures of the quaint scenes of which that wisest of pagans, Messer /Ksop, had told. A feeling of kinship in sorrow seized upon him and, going up to the singer, he took his hand. ‘“Do you not know, friend, how beautiful is this fountain by which you sit? Come, it is the touch shall tell you”’; and setting the blind man’s fingers to the heads and limbs and drapery, he guided him slowly along the outlines. ‘‘They are smooth and daintily rounded, truly,” murmured the other, ‘‘ but, oh! they are hard and cold, like the rich and great.” And then, touching Ercole’s cap and. |I{¢: 5) 1} SOOKE ea) WAS y (Oe Gy C02} KOI Wo 7, SID AVS ZING RE Ae ; S THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE > shoulder with his free hand: ‘‘ But you, too, are of the noble —of God’s truly noble, mayhap, who love the poor and the unfortunate.”’ ‘*That is to tell me that I love myself,’’ said Ercole. ‘‘ What is a full belly and a gay cap and cloak, if one have not his desire? ”’ ‘* Yet there are those whose need of cloak and food is so great that they have no thought of other desires,’ said the blind man. Ercole paused and leaned on the fountain. Suddenly an idea flashed through his brain. ‘ robbery as a motive. Weapons? The searcher could find none, but, as he rose and stepped back, his foot struck against something that slid noisily upon the stone. A moment, | and he held in his hand a short, stout | dagger witha sharp cutting edge and _ |/4 a rough file-like back — such a knife as he knew thieves often carried, useful alike to cut flesh or iron. : Here, then, was the story. This fellow had gotten no more than his deserts: a cutpurse, in all likeli- hood, who had worked his way into the show to ply his craft, and the victim now of rude justice, that differed little in its execution from the crimes it punished. THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE Suddenly a new thought leaped : into Ercole’s mind. Was not this weapon and tool, half knife, half file, fashioned expressly to cut through bars like those that fenced the window of his cell? To think was to act, for every moment might. bring new peril. With the dagger in his teeth, he crouched low under the win- dow, and, springing up, caught the bars. Winding one arm around them to hold himself there, he grasped the hilt in the other hand and drew the file edge across the iron. A few strokes showed him that it was tempered well for its work. He could see out now into the IAS ES yp D a | (/ Ue C6 = Sy vy —_—~> KBs 7A SS RS AE EP ES SE Sa co) NES \ THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE court that lay above him and be sure that it remained empty, that no one came within hearing of the low gritting of the file that was winning his way to freedom. Yet it was necessary to work cautiously, to press hard and draw the blade slowly across the bar. One was severed, now, at the lower end, so that it could be bent up. Two, he measured, would give space enough for a slender fugitive like him to slp through; but his arm was numb from sustaining his weight, so he dropped to the floor and rubbed it back into life. Then he sprang up again. The pain of the drawn and com- pressed muscles came quickly this [ 141 | WY Es O Geen aI Qa THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE time, but he clenched his teeth and > struggled with the second bar until it also was cut through. All that remained was to regain his strength, to leap once more, bend the two loose bars back and pull himself through into the court. Thence there would be at least a fair chance to reach the street. While he was resting for this final effort, voices and footsteps again came to his ears. Now | was no time to take chances of | friends or foes. What must be done must be done at once, and he sprang toward the window, draw- ing himself slowly up and pushing with all his strength against the severed bars. THE ANGELS OF MESSER ERCOLE Gradually they bent outward, and, writhing and struggling, he forced himself through the broadening space. That much was over. His clothes were torn and soiled, his hands bleeding, and every muscle ached, but he was under the stars at last;—not many, to be sure, for the court was small and the walls straight and high, but free for such better or worse fortune as might befall. Turning back toward his prison, he quickly bent the bars into their places again, and, as he did so, he heard the bolt creaking. Friends or foes? and if neither surely the latter. He need not wait now to learn. Gliding swiftly around the YAS ES WAY S\ QUE OO)