'I have discovered everything,' he said. 'The council has resolved to surrender the town to the Duke, who promises, in return for the children, to forgive everything and allow them to rule themselves, with half the council appointed by him.'
'If the conspirators make any disturbance, they are to be outlawed and a price set upon their heads.'
'How far have the negotiations gone?' I asked.
'The messengers have been sent to the Duke now.'
'In that case there is no time to lose,' I said.
'Or we shall be taken alive; and you know what to expect from Caterina and Lodovico. Do not think of their promises of pardon.'
'I put no trust in their promises,' said Checco, bitterly.
'Filippo is right,' said Bartolomeo. 'We must escape.'
'I cannot throw up the game,' said Checco. 'And without me, what will happen to my supporters?'
'They may find forgiveness in submission. But you can do no good here. If you are in safety, you may be of some assistance. Anyhow, you will have life.'
The Moratini and I insisted. We adduced every argument. Finally he consented.
'We must go together,' I said; 'we may have to fight our way through.'
'Yes,' said Scipione. 'Let us meet at the gate by the river--at two.'
'But go there separately. If the people find we are attempting to escape, they will set upon us.'
'I wish they would,' said Matteo. 'It would give me such satisfaction to put my sword into half a score of their fat bellies!'
The night was cloudy, and if there had been a moon, it would have been covered. A thin, cold rain was falling, and it was pitch dark. When I got to the river gate, four or five of them were already there. We felt too cold and miserable to speak; we sat on our horses, waiting. As new arrivals came, we peered into their faces, and then, on recognising them, bent back and sat on silently. We were all there but Checco. We waited for a time. At last Bartolomeo Moratini whispered to Matteo,--
'In the house. He told me to go on, saying he would follow shortly. Two horses were saddled besides mine.'
We waited on. The rain fell thin and cold. It struck half-past two. Immediately afterwards, we heard the sound of hoofs, and through the mist saw a black form coming towards us.
'Is it you, Checco?' we whispered, for the guard of the gate might have heard us. We were standing in a little plot of waste ground, ten yards from the walls.