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And the count burst into a laugh; a terrible laugh, that showed he must have suffered horribly to be able thus to laugh. However, the struggle still continued, and it was dreadful to witness. The people all took part against Andrea, and twenty thousand voices cried, "Put him to death! put him to death!" Franz sprang back, but the count seized his arm, and held him before the window.
Before you come into the drawing-room you stand a moment in a great vaulted place hung round with faded tapestry, paved with bare tiles, and furnished only with three chairs. In the drawing-room, above the fireplace, is a superb Andrea del Sarto. The furniture is covered with pale sea-green." My companion listened to all this. "The Andrea del Sarto is there; it's magnificent.
It has been seen that a generous sympathy had taken place of hostile feeling, as respects Raoul, in the minds of most on board the Proserpine. Under the influence of this sentiment, an order had been passed through the sentries, not to molest their prisoner by too frequent or unnecessary an examination of the state-room. With a view to a proper regard to both delicacy and watchfulness, however, Winchester had directed that the angle of the canvas nearest the cabin-door lantern should be opened a few inches, and that the sentinel should look in every half-hour; or as often as the ship's bell told the progress of time. The object was simply to be certain that the prisoner was in his room, and that he was making no attempt on his own life; a step that had been particularly apprehended previously to the respite. Now, the whole of the dispute between the two Italians, and that which had passed beneath the ship's channels, did not occupy more than six or seven minutes; and the little cluster of officers was still gaining recruits, when Raoul was fairly in the yawl of his own lugger. At this moment the ship's bell struck the hour of eight. The marine advanced, with the respect of a subordinate, but with the steadiness of a man on post, to examine the state of the room. Although the gentlemen believed this caution unnecessary, the loud voices of Andrea and Vito Viti being of themselves a sort of guarantee that the prisoner was in his cage, they gave way to a man, fully understanding that a sentinel was never to be resisted. The canvas was opened a few inches, the light of the lantern at the cabin-door shot in, and there sat the vice-governatore and the podest
In response to his knock he was ushered into the presence of a kindly official who sat at a table littered with maps and papers of every description. There was a moment's pause, during which Andrea stood uneasily fidgeting, and his courage almost oozed away as he nervously twisted his cap. But at last the great man looked up, and somewhat abstractly asked, "Well, my boy, what can I do for you?"
One morning I thought I saw a dozen Capuchins walking slowly in front of us, but when we caught them up I found they were women of all ages. "Are they mad?" I said to Senior Andrea. "Not at all. They wear the Capuchin habit out of devotion, and you would not find a chemise on one of them."
He hailed one of the taxi gondolas and pulled Andrea by the arm along with him. They embarked and sat under the black roof, having a full view of the canal to the left and the right through the windows of the narrow cabin. "What do you have to tell me, sir?" Andrea started. "And where are you taking me to?" "Don't go to your notary tomorrow," said the Jew.
"One more thing," he said, while unlocking a small box, which stood on the table. "Step closer, and take a look at the dagger in this box. There are large factories for weapons in Brescia. Do you remember having seen any work resembling this one there?" Controlling his emotions with his last bit of strength, Andrea looked into the container, which the secretary held out to him.
"My name is Salvé Kristiansen, master of the Apollo," added Salvé, without letting her go, and feeling everything around him infinitely small at that moment. Garvloit turned round and shouted several times from the top of the stairs, raising his voice at each repetition, "Andrea!
The two fleets, bearing some sixty thousand men, that of Pisa commanded by a Venetian, Andrea Morosini, that of Genoa by Oberto Doria, met at Meloria, not far from Bocca d'Arno, when the Pisans were utterly defeated, partly owing to the treachery of the immortal Count Ugolino, who sailed away without striking a blow.
Having said so much about this pulpit of S. Andrea, I am sorry that I cannot refer the English reader to any accessible representation of it. For its sake alone, if for no other purpose, Pistoja is well worth a visit. It was long believed that he died of eating poisoned figs. See Il Duomo di Orvieto, descritto ed illustrato per Lodovico Luzi, pp. 330-339.
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