Cucurullo had his own opinion of what he saw during those days, and he kept it to himself for some time, though he and Pina talked together a good deal in the evenings over their late supper, in the little room next to the kitchen. The woman had interested the hunchback from the first, and when any one roused his interest he pondered much upon that person’s character and ways, and asked questions with considerable cunning. On the other hand, Pina, who was not given to exhibiting much liking for any one, seemed to have taken a fancy to her fellow-servant either out of pity for his deformity or from natural sympathy. They treated each other with a good deal of formality, however; Cucurullo, who was a Neapolitan, addressed her as Donna Pina, as if she were a lady born, and she usually called him ‘Sor Antonino,’ as though he were at least a clerk or a small shop-keeper.

‘Tell me,’ he said, one evening when they were eating the salad left over from their masters’ supper, ’what is your opinion of this young gentleman who admires our mistress?’

‘What opinion can I have?’ asked Pina, picking up a small leaf of lettuce on her two-pronged iron fork; for she ate delicately, and her fine manners were Cucurullo’s despair.

‘This is a wicked world,’ he sighed, rather enigmatically.

’If you mean also that Don Alberto is one of those who make it so, I am inclined to agree with you,’ Pina answered. ’I have seen other young gentlemen like him.’

’You have had great experience of high life, Donna Pina. That is the reason why I asked your opinion. This young gentleman may be like others you have known, but besides that he is very powerful in Rome, and can do what he likes with impunity. He is so much in love with our mistress that he no longer understands, as we say in the South. He has lost his senses.’

‘But he has his wits left,’ observed Pina sharply.

‘And he owes a grudge for that scratch in the arm,’ added Cucurullo thoughtfully.

‘He does not know who gave it to him.’

‘Therefore he means the Lady Ortensia to pay him for it.’

‘Yes,’ Pina answered. ’That is just like a man. Because he was hurt in serenading a lady, it must needs be her fault, and she must give satisfaction! First, he would like to carry her off to some lonely castle he must have, somewhere in the mountains, and at the end of a week, or a month, he would turn her out of doors and say it served her right because he had been wounded under her window. Yes, Sor Antonino, you may well say that I have some experience of high life!’

Cucurullo heard the bitter note that rang in the last words, and he partly understood, for he had known her long enough to guess that she had a sad story of her own.

‘We ought to watch the signs for the masters,’ he said. ’They see nothing, hear nothing, and think of nothing but each other. One of these days the young gentleman will lay a snare and they will step into it like a pair of sparrows.’

‘What can we do?’ asked Pina in a dull voice. ’Whatever is fated will happen.’

‘That is heresy, Donna Pina,’ said Cucurullo gravely, for he was much shocked to hear a fellow-servant express such a highly unorthodox sentiment. ’It is a heresy condemned by the Fathers of the Church, and especially by Saint Thomas.’

‘He never lived my life!’ objected Pina with a sharp little laugh; and she poured out two fingers of sour white wine and drank it.

’If the Maestro had thought as you do when I was thrown overboard, I should have drowned,’ said Cucurullo quietly.

‘When did that happen?’ asked Pina, interested at once.

’It was on a small vessel coming from Naples to Cività Vecchia, five years ago, after my mother died,’ said Cucurullo. ’I was coming to Rome because I hoped to get some clerk’s work, having had some little instruction, and the Maestro was one of the two or three passengers in the cabin. He was hardly known then, being very young, and indeed he was running away from a Neapolitan princess who was too much in love with him. Well, at first the captain was glad to have me on board, and the crew made much of me, believing that the hunchback would bring them luck and a quick passage. But we had not got as far as Gaeta when a storm came up and we were driven out to sea. It grew worse and worse for two days and nights, and our sails were torn, and other accidents happened, which I did not understand. Then the crew and the captain began to look askance at me, and I heard them say among themselves that I was the wrong kind of hunchback and had the Evil Eye; and just when it seemed as if the weather were moderating, and the sun had shone out for half an hour, the clouds in the south-west got as black as ink, and one could see the white foam driving towards us below them. Then, when the captain saw that there was no time to be lost, he ordered the men to throw me overboard, saying that I was Jonah and Judas Iscariot in one, and that nothing else could save the ship. They took me by my arms and feet and swung me twice and then threw me clean over the side; but I had already shut my eyes and was beginning to say the De profundis as well as I could. I had hardly finished the first versicle when I struck the water, and I was indeed crying unto the Lord out of the depths, for I cannot swim, and my end was clearly at hand.’

‘How awful!’ cried Pina in a low voice.

‘I never was in greater danger,’ said Cucurullo gravely, ’and my mouth was already full of salt water. But I did not say then “whatever is fated will happen,” Donna Pina, for I was anxious to say the second versicle of the Psalm before I was drowned, and I tried what I could to keep my head up long enough for that. Then, just as a big wave was breaking, I saw something flying through the air, and as it was a dark thing I was afraid it was the devil coming for my soul, because my mother, blessed soul, when she was dying, had recommended me to pay three Carlini which she owed for milk, and I had wickedly forgotten it. But I have since paid it. However, it was not the devil, but Maestro Stradella, who had thrown himself into the sea, as he was, to save my life, only because he had spoken two or three times to me on the voyage. The ship was not going on fast, but though one of the sailors threw him a rope he could not catch it, for he was holding up my head and telling me not to be frightened, as well as he could amongst the waves, and not to catch hold of him, for he would save me. Then the passengers and sailors took a great board ten ells long that was on the deck, and served for landing, and they threw it over; and somehow the Maestro got me to it and we climbed upon it, while the ship was getting farther and farther away, and the black squall was coming nearer and nearer.’

‘The master swims like a water-rat,’ said Pina. ’I remember that night in Venice, when the Signors of the Night were after him!’

‘Ah, you should have seen him in the sea, God bless him!’ answered Cucurullo. ’He had the strength and the long wind of a dolphin. When the squall came upon us we held each other fast, sitting astride of the plank, for it was a very heavy one, and did not sink with us. Then came the rain. Lord, how it rained, Donna Pina! You have never seen rain like that!’

’I remember how it rained that night when the master climbed into our balcony! That was enough for me!’

’Imagine ten times that, Donna Pina. The wind had blown the plank round, so that we got the rain in our backs, but even then I had to keep my mouth shut to hinder the water from running down my throat! And it must have lasted two hours, but the sea went down like magic in that time, and there was only a long, smooth, swelling motion, and the wind came from another quarter and carried us with it. That was how we were saved.’

‘The ship came back and picked you up, I suppose?’

’After the squall we did not see the ship again, though the clouds rolled away and the sun shone brightly. She went to the bottom of the sea, Donna Pina, and was never heard of again, but we drifted for many hours, half dead with cold, and were washed upon the Roman shore.’

‘And what was fated, happened,’ said Pina with a smile. ’For if you had not been thrown overboard you would have been drowned with the rest, Sor Antonino!’

Cucurullo smiled too, very quietly, and helped Pina to the last drumstick left over from a cold chicken.

‘Well, well, Donna Pina,’ he said, ’that is your way of believing, I dare say, but I have told you what happened to me; and now you will understand better why I should be glad to serve the master with my life, if I might.’

‘You are a good man,’ said Pina in a thoughtful tone. ’If there were more like you, this would not be such a bad world as it is. What you say about Don Alberto is true, and if I could see any way of being useful in watching him I would do all I could. Are the two Venetian gentlemen who helped us in Ferrara still in Rome? I do not know what they are, and sometimes I was afraid of them, but they would be strong allies if they knew that our lady was in danger and if they were willing to help us.’

’They are still in Rome, for I saw them only to-day, going into the Gesù. They must be very devout gentlemen, for I often see them in churches, and their servant has been valet to a bishop, and understands the cérémonials perfectly. It is a pleasure to talk with him. He can tell the meaning of every vestment and of every change in a pontifical high mass, and I think he knows half the Roman Breviary by heart, and all the Psalms!’

Pina was not so sure about the piety of the Bravi and their servant, and as she nibbled her last bit of bread, she looked thoughtfully across the clothless deal table at the hunchback’s trusting and spiritual face. In the dramatic vicissitudes of her own youth she had not learned to put her faith in men, nor in women either; and if there had ever been a gentle and affectionate side to her strong nature, it had been trodden and tormented till it had died, leaving scarcely a memory of itself behind.

As he sat on the kitchen chair, Cucurullo’s head was not much above the edge of the table, and she looked down at him, meeting his sad eyes as they gazed up to hers. She liked him, and was glad that he did not know what was passing through her mind; for she foresaw trouble in the near future, and was afraid for herself. In some way she might yet be made to pay for what she had done in wreaking her vengeance on Pignaver. Cardinal Altieri might protect Stradella and Ortensia if the Senator tried to have them murdered, but if he demanded that Pina, his household servant, should be arrested and sent back to Venice to be punished for helping the runaways, who would protect her? At the mere thought she often turned very pale and bent nearly double, as if she felt bodily pain. For of all things, she feared that most. Sooner than suffer it again she would betray Ortensia into Alberto Altieri’s hands, as she had almost forced her into Stradella’s arms in order to be revenged on Pignaver himself.

‘I have been thinking,’ she said after a long pause. ’It would be well for you to go to those Venetian gentlemen and beg them to help us, if they will. You need not say that I suggested it, Sor Antonino.’

‘Why should I speak of you at all, Donna Pina?’ asked the hunchback, a little surprised.

’Exactly! There is no need of it, and you are very tactful. You will find out if they suspect anything, for after the affair of the serenade I am sure that they must have watched Don Alberto anxiously, to be sure that he had not found out who wounded him.’

’Perhaps I had better talk to Tommaso first. We are on very good terms, you know.’

‘By all means, talk with him first.’

A distant handbell tinkled, and as Pina heard it through the open door she rose to her feet, for it was Ortensia’s means of calling her.

Cucurullo thought over the conversation and reasoned about it with himself most of the night, and, so far as Pina was concerned, the more he reflected the farther he got from the truth. For he was grateful because she was kind to him in their daily life, and he could not possibly have believed that she was no more really attached to Ortensia than she was to the Queen of Sweden, and was even now meditating a sudden flight from Rome, which should put her beyond the reach of justice, if the law ever made search for her. In his heart he was sure that she must be as devoted to her mistress as he was to Stradella, though it was true that Ortensia had never saved her life. But Cucurullo saw good in every one, and thought it the most natural thing in the world that a faithful servant should be ready to die for his master.

On the following day he lay in wait for Tommaso near the main entrance of the inn, where the Via dell’ Orso meets the Via di Monte Brianzo, which then bore the name of Santa Lucia.

It was long before the man appeared, and then he seemed to be in a great hurry, and did not see Cucurullo till the latter overtook him and spoke to him, for the hunchback had long legs and could walk quite as fast as any able-bodied young man.

’I have been waiting a long time in the hope of seeing you this morning,’ he said.

‘And now I am in such haste that I have no time to talk with you,’ replied the other, going on.

‘We can talk while we are walking,’ suggested Cucurullo, keeping pace with him easily. ‘How are the masters, Tommaso? Quite well, I hope?’

‘Oh, perfectly well, thank you,’ answered Tommaso, increasing his speed. ’I am sorry that I am in such a hurry, my friend, but it cannot be helped.’

‘Do not mention it,’ said Cucurullo, breathing quietly. ’I generally walk briskly myself.’ Thereupon he quickened his stride a little.

‘You certainly walk surprisingly fast,’ said the ex-highwayman, who now had to make an effort himself in order to keep up with his companion.

The people in the street stared at the two in surprise, for they seemed to be walking for a match, and it looked as if the hunchback were getting the better of it.

‘I trust,’ he said in a quiet undertone, ’that Count Trombin is in no apprehension owing to his having wounded the Pope’s nephew under our windows the other night?’

‘Not at all,’ answered the other. ‘So you saw it, did you?’

’I saw it with satisfaction, for I was at the window, and I recognised the Count’s voice at once. What do you think, my friend? Will that young gentleman come serenading again?’

‘How can I tell?’ Tommaso was by this time a little short of breath.

‘You might have heard your two gentlemen say something about it,’ Cucurullo said. ’Am I walking too fast for you? You said you were in a hurry, you know.’

‘Yes,’ Tommaso said, rather breathlessly. ’I was that is I am in in a moderate hurry!’

‘My reason for going with you is that I want your valuable advice,’ Cucurullo went on, still keeping up the tremendous pace without the least apparent difficulty.

‘About what?’ gasped the highwayman, ashamed to be beaten by a hunchback.

’Your gentlemen have already helped my master and mistress so much, that even without the Maestro’s knowledge I should like to ask their protection for his wife. That is, if you approve, my friend. I want your advice, you see.’

‘You will have to to walk slower if you want to get it!’

Tommaso was by this time puffing like a porpoise, for he was not as young as when he had been the terror of the Bologna road, and he had been living on the fat of his masters’ plentiful leavings for weeks, with a very liberal allowance of the white wine of Marino. Moreover, knowing what he did of the Bravi’s intentions, Cucurullo’s suggestion seemed at once highly comic and extremely valuable. But Cucurullo himself, good soul, was pleased at having forced Tommaso to slacken his pace and listen to him.

‘I come of my own intention, dear friend,’ he said, ’because I am in constant anxiety about the Lady Ortensia. For Don Alberto is nephew to both the Popes, as they say here, and it would be an easy matter for him to carry her off into the country; the more so as she and my master are living in his own palace, and it sometimes happens that the Maestro goes out alone to a rehearsal of music, leaving only me and Pina to protect his lady, and what could we do if Don Alberto came at such a time with a band of men and simply carried the lady downstairs to his own coach and drove away with her?’

‘My dear friend,’ answered the other, who had now recovered his breath, ’I do not know what you could do. Am I a prophet, that you ask me riddles? The book of wisdom is buried under the statue of Pasquin, as these Romans say! If such a thing happened to me, I should consider the safety of my own skin, which is worth more to me than many other skins, even than the skins of lions for which His Holiness pays a great price, they tell me, when travellers bring them from Africa! For you might as well resist the Tiber in a flood, as try to hinder the Pope’s favourite nephew from doing what he likes! Not that the Pope, or even the Cardinal, knows what he does; but he has a golden key to every door in Rome, a papal pass for every gate of the city, and a roll of blank pardons, duly signed and sealed, for any misdeed his servants may commit! What could you or I do against such a man?’

Having had his haste fairly run out of his legs, Tommaso was now inclined to be talkative, though what he said led to no particular conclusion, except that it would not be safe to interfere with Don Alberto’s plans. The truth was that he saw magnificent possibilities for his masters in Cucurullo’s request for protection, and he had not the smallest intention of risking a mistake by answering for them, still less of discouraging Cucurullo’s hope that they would protect Ortensia.

Cucurullo answered a little despondently.

‘I know it,’ he said. ’All you say is true. And yet when I remember how your gentlemen wounded him and then drove the watch before them like sheep, and yet never so much as showed their faces, I cannot help hoping that they will do something for us.’

’Hope by all means, my dear friend, for, as you say very well, my masters are no ordinary fine gentlemen, made up of curls and lace collars, and paste buckles and satin, and drawing-room small-swords of about the size and temper of a silver hairpin! Why, most of these young dandies are no better than girls, and are not half such men as some priests I have known! Either of my masters could skewer a round dozen of them while the bells are ringing for noon, and sit down to dinner at the last stroke as cool as if I had just shaved them and smoothed their clean collars over their coats! But after all, dearest Cucurullo, they are only two, and I might bear them a hand with my cudgel, and we should be three only three men against the whole army of the Pope, horse, foot, and artillery, besides the Swiss Guard and the five or six hundred sbirri in plain clothes whom the Cardinal maintains in the holy city! It would not be a fair fight, my friend!’

Cucurullo smiled at Tommaso’s voluble statement of the odds, for the hunchback was not without a certain sense of humour.

‘No doubt you are right,’ he said, ’but if Don Alberto tried to carry off my master’s lady, he would avoid the publicity of an escort of three or four thousand men! Indeed, I doubt whether he would take more than two or three of his servants with him, for whom you three would certainly be a match.’

‘A match!’ cried Tommaso, suddenly indignant. ’We would make sausage meat of them! We would mince them as fine as forcemeat in five minutes! Their bones would be nothing but a cloud of dust before you could count ten! A match, indeed! My dearest friend, you do not know what you are saying!’

‘I do, but you have a greater command of language than I,’ answered Cucurullo quietly. ’When I said that you would be a match for them, I meant that you could destroy them in an instant.’

‘I see,’ said Tommaso, pacified. ’But if you think I can talk, you should hear Count Trombin! Now listen, most worthy friend. If you desire it, I will speak with my masters for you; for the truth is, they are two very noble cavaliers, and would ask nothing better than to help a lady in distress, and I will meet you where you please, and tell you what they say. Or, if you prefer to speak with them yourself, go back to the inn now, and you will find them upstairs eating their morning dish of fruit. Do as you please, but perhaps I shall be able to speak to them at a moment when they are particularly well disposed. When they have dined well, for instance, they are always in a pleasant humour. They often give me a Giulio then.’

‘You will do me the greatest service, my friend,’ Cucurullo said. ’Pray speak for me with your gentlemen, telling them that I came to you entirely on my own responsibility. That is important, for I would not have them think that my master would approach them through his servant, which would be beneath their dignity and unworthy of his good manners.’

‘I shall be most careful,’ answered Tommaso blandly. ’But listen to me again. If, for instance, my gentlemen should desire to meet your gentleman and his lady in some quiet out-of-the-way place, in order to talk over the circumstances at leisure, do you think there would be any objection?’

‘Why should there be?’ asked Cucurullo in surprise. ’Are they not the best of friends?’

‘Indeed they are!’ replied the other with alacrity. ’I wish you could hear how my masters talk of the Maestro Stradella’s genius, and of his voice, and then of his noble air and manner, and of the Lady Ortensia’s beauty and modest deportment! It would do your heart good, most estimable friend!’

‘It is a pleasure even to hear you tell me of it,’ Cucurullo answered, much delighted, for he worshipped Stradella, and thought him perfection now that he was at last properly married, and there was an end of his love-scrapes, and of carrying letters to his sweethearts, and of silk ladders and all the rest of it.

‘I have not told you half,’ said Tommaso readily. ’And now, as I have an important errand, and my gentlemen are waiting to be shaved, I shall say good-bye. Will it suit you to meet me this afternoon about twenty-three o’clock, at the Montefiascone wine-cellar in the Via dei Pastini? It is a quiet place, and there is a light white wine there which is cooling in this warm weather.’

‘I will be there,’ Cucurullo answered with a friendly nod by way of taking leave.

Though they had slackened their pace to an ordinary walk that suited Tommaso’s breathing powers, they had covered a good deal of ground in the five or six minutes during which they had been talking, and they were close to the Church of the Minerva, not far from the Altieri palace. As it was quite clear that Tommaso wished to go on his errand alone, Cucurullo turned into a narrow street when he left him, and walked slowly, picking his way over the uneven pavement. It was an unsavoury lane, that ran between tall houses, from the windows of which everything that was objectionable indoors was thrown out; and as His Eminence the Cardinal Vicar’s sweepers were only supposed to pass that way once a week, on Thursdays, and sometimes forgot about it, the accumulations of dirt were pestiferous. Rome in those days was what all Naples was twenty years ago, and still is, in parts; it was full of the most astounding extremes of splendour and incredible poverty, of perfect cleanliness and abominable filth, and the contrast between the stringency of the law and the laxity of its execution was often not less surprising. Under the statutes, a man could be punished with torture and the galleys for owning a dark lantern, for carrying a pointed knife in his pocket, or for wearing a sword without leave; but, as a matter of fact, the detailed manuscript accounts of scores of crimes committed in Rome in the seventeenth century, and later, show that almost every one went armed, that any one who could dress like a gentleman wore a rapier when he pleased, and that dark lanterns were commonly used in defiance of the watch, the sbirri in plain clothes, the Bargello who commanded both, and the Governor who was his only superior in matters relating to public order.

I have digressed a little, both to explain the affair of the serenade under the Altieri palace, and to prepare my readers for what followed, and especially for the lawless doings of Trombin, Gambardella, and Don Alberto, which came to a climax during the night of Saint John’s Eve, in spite of the many admirable regulations about lanterns and weapons which should have made the city a paradise of safety for unprotected females. But, after all, progress has not done much for us since then, for the cities are always growing faster than the police possibly can, so that it is in the very greatest capitals that the most daring crimes are committed with apparent impunity in our own time.

Cucurullo picked his way through the dirty side street, and was just emerging into a broader and cleaner one, when some one overtook him and tapped him on his hump, though he had not noticed the sound of footsteps behind him. He stopped, and saw a man in dusty and shabby black clothes, whom he took for a sbirro.

‘Good-morning, Master Alessandro,’ said the man with some politeness.

‘That is my master’s name,’ answered Cucurullo, ’not mine, and he is not deformed. Therefore, if you are jesting with me, I beg you to pass on in peace.’

‘Your pardon, sir,’ the man said, lifting his hat, ’have I not the honour of addressing Signor Alessandro Guidi, the poet, for whom I have a message from Her Majesty the Queen of Sweden, whose servant I am?’

‘No,’ replied the other, pacified at being taken for the misshapen bard. ‘I am only a servant like yourself, and my name is Cucurullo.’

The man seemed reassured and much amused, for he was a Piedmontese.

‘Cuckoo-rulloo-cuckoo what?’ he asked, laughing. ’I did not catch the rest!’

Cucurullo fixed his unwinking blue eyes on the speaker’s face with a displeased expression, and after a moment the man turned pale and began to tremble, for he saw that he had given grave offence, and to rouse the anger of a hunchback, especially in the morning, might bring accident, ruin, and perhaps sudden death before sunset. He shook all over, and the blue eyes never winked, and seemed to grow more and more angry till they positively blazed with wrath, and, at last, the fellow uttered a cry of abject fright and turned and ran up the dirty street at the top of his speed. But Cucurullo went quietly on his way, smiling with a little satisfaction; for, after all, it was something to command kindness and hospitality, or inspire mortal terror, by the deformity that afflicted him. Possibly, too, in his humble heart he was pleased at having been taken for such a social personage as a scholar and a man of letters; for he had always been very careful to keep himself very clean and neat, and if he had any vanity it was that no one could ever detect a spot on his clothes. For instance, he always carried with him a little piece of brown cotton, folded like a handkerchief, which he spread upon the pavement in church before he knelt down, lest the knees of his breeches should be soiled, and he treasured a pair of old goatskin gloves which he had bought at a pawnshop in Venice, and which he put on when he cleaned his master’s boots or did any other dirty work.

After he had parted from Tommaso, the latter went about his business, though not in breathless haste. His errand, as he had called it, took him amongst the dealers in coaches, new and second-hand, who had their warehouses near the Massimo palace and in the neighbourhood of Saint Mark’s, and in other regions near by, from which the public conveyances started and where private carriages could be bought or hired.

The Bravi, who were practical men, judged that a former highway robber should be a good judge of such vehicles, and had commissioned Tommaso, who had stopped and plundered hundreds of them on the Bologna road, to find one that would suit their purpose. It was to be perfectly sound, not large, comfortably cushioned and provided with solid shutters to draw up outside the windows. There were to be good locks to the doors, with keyholes inside and out, and a boot for luggage, also provided with a safe fastening. It was no easy matter to find exactly what the Bravi wanted, without paying a high price for a perfectly new carriage, and it was a prime necessity that the one Tommaso was to buy for them should be able to stand a rather unusual journey without once breaking down.

They also needed good horses of their own, for there were several reasons why they could not hire a team from the post for the start, and they meant to trust to luck for exchanging or selling theirs at the end of the first stage. Tommaso was a capital judge of horseflesh, as they had found out on the journey from Venice, and they confidently left the whole matter in his hands while they occupied themselves with graver affairs, or sought relaxation in the pleasures which the city afforded.