"That this matter may be finished," said Antonio; and, coming to Paul,
he laid a hand on his shoulder and turned him to the path up the hill.
But Paul, seeing his face and the swords of Tommasino and Martolo that
barred all escape, seized his hand, saying, "Before God, I mean you
true, Antonio! As Christ died for us, I mean you true, Antonio!"
"Of that I know not, and care not; yet do not swear it now by Christ's
name if it be not true. How meant you, my lord, by your brother and your
brother's son?"
Paul licked his lips, for they had gone dry, and he breathed as a man
pants who has run far and fast. "You are three to one," he hissed.
"We shall be but man to man on the top of the hill," said Antonio.
Then suddenly Tommasino spoke unbidden. "There is a priest in the
village a mile away," said he, and there was pity in his voice.
"Peace, Tommasino! What priest has he provided for his brother?"
And Tommasino said no more, but he turned his eyes away from the face of
Duke Paul: yet when he was an old man, one being in his company heard
him say he dreamed yet of it. As for Martolo, he bent his head and
crossed himself.
Then Paul threw himself on his knees before Antonio and prayed him to
let him go; but Antonio seemed not to hear him, and stood silent with
folded arms. Yet presently he said, "Take your sword then, my lord. If I
fall, these shall not touch you. This much I give, though it is more
than I have right to give."
But Paul would not take his sword, but knelt, still beseeching Antonio
with tears, and mingling prayers and curses in a flow of agonised words.
At last Antonio plucked him from the ground and sternly bade him mount
the hill; and finding no help, he set out, his knees shaking beneath
him, while Antonio followed close upon him. And thus Tommasino and
Martolo watched them go till the winding of the path hid them from view,
when Martolo fell on his knees, and Tommasino drew a breath as though a
load had rested on his chest.
It was but a short way to the summit, but the path was steep, and the
two went slowly, so that, as they came forth on the top, the first gleam
of dawn caught them in its pale light. The city lay grey and drab below
them, and the lonely tree, that stands to this day upon the hill, swayed
in the wind with mournful murmurings. Paul stumbled and sank in a heap
on the ground. And Antonio said to him, "If you will, pray," and went
and leant against the bare trunk of the tree, a little way apart. But
Paul, thinking on man's mercy, not on God's, crawled on his knees across
the space between and laid hold of Antonio's legs. And he said nothing,
but gazed up at Antonio. And at the silent appeal Antonio shivered for
an instant, but he did not fly the gaze of Paul's eyes, but looked down
on him and answered, "You must die. Yet there is your sword, and there a
free road to the city."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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