Clarice was Checco's wife. He kept silence for a while, then he broke out again,—
'I want Fabrizio.'
'Will I not do instead?' I asked.
'Who are you?'
I repeated patiently,—
'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.
'Yes.'
'No, it is not! Why do you tell me your name is Fabio? I know your face. You are not a serving-man.'
'You are mistaken,' I said.
'No, no. You are not Fabio. I know your face. Who are you?'
'I am Fabio.'
'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,—
'What is that?'
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.
'What is it?' asked Pietro again.
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!'
'What is it?'
'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.
'Wake up!' I said; 'wake up and come with me!'
'What is it?' he asked.
'Never mind; come with me!'
I took his arm and tried to lift him out of his chair, but he caught hold of the handles and would not stir.
'I will not move,' he said. 'What is it?'
'The mob is coming to sack the Palace, and if they find you here they will kill you.'
'I will not move. I am Orso Orsi. They dare not touch me.'
'Be quick! be quick!' screamed Andrea from the window. 'The first of them have appeared in the street. In a moment they will be here.'
'Quick! quick!' cried Pietro.
Now the roar had got so loud that it buzzed in one's ears, and every instant it grew louder.
'Be quick! be quick!'
'You must come,' I said, and Pietro joined his prayers to my commands, but nothing would move the old man.
'I tell you I will not fly. I am the head of my house. I am Orso Orsi. I will not fly like a dog before the rabble.'
'For your son's sake—for our sake,' I implored. 'We shall be killed with you.'
'You may go. The door is open for you. I will stay alone.'
He seemed to have regained his old spirit. It was as if a last flame were flickering up.
'We will not leave you,' I said. 'I have been put by Checco to protect you, and if you are killed I must be killed too. Our only chance is to fly.'
'Quick! quick!' cried Andrea. 'They are nearly here!'
'Oh, master, master,' cried Pietro, 'accept the means he offers you!'
'Be quick! be quick!'
'Would you have me slink down a back passage, like a thief, in my own house? Never!'
'They have reached the doors,' cried Andrea.
The noise was deafening below. The gates had been closed, and we heard a thunder of blows; stones were thrown, sticks beaten against the iron; then they seemed to take some great instrument and pound against the locks. Again and again the blows were repeated, but at last there was a crash. A mighty shout broke from the people, and we heard a rush. I sprang to the door of the Orso's room and locked and bolted it, then, calling the others to help me, I dragged a heavy chest against it. We placed another chest on the first, and dragged the bedstead up, pushing it against the chests.
We were only just in time, for, like water rushing at once through every crevice, the mob surged up and filled every corner of the house. They came to our door and pushed it. To their surprise it did not open. Outside someone cried,—
'It's locked!'
The hindrance excited them, and the crowd gathered greater outside.
'Break it open,' they cried.
Immediately heavy blows thundered down on the lock and handle.
'For God's sake, come,' I said, turning to Orso. He did not answer. There was no time to lose, and I could not conquer his obstinacy.
'Then I shall force you,' I cried, catching hold of both his arms and dragging him from the chair. He held on as tight as he could, but his strength was nothing against mine. I caught hold of him, and was lifting him in my arms when the door was burst open. The rush of people threw down the barricade, and the crowd surged into the room. It was too late. I made a rush for the little door with Orso, but I could not get to it. They crowded round me with a shout.
'Take him,' I cried to Pietro, 'while I defend you.'
I drew my sword, but immediately a bludgeon fell on it and it smashed in two. I gave a shout and rushed at my assailants, but it was hopeless. I felt a crushing blow on my head. I sank down insensible.
XXXIII
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