Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1899-05-10

SAs~A
were those of Alexander, and that he was
in his last agony, alone and friendless in his
splendid palace. Yet not alone, there was
another figure in the room. AS I looked, it
stepped out of the gloom of the rich curtains
at the window, and standing over the bed,
laughed again, that terrible laugh of devilish
joy. At the sound, the dying man moaned
through his black, foam-clothed lips, and
Corte, for it was he, bent over the body and
Knocked him.
"Roderigo Borgia, Vicar of Christ, hell
yawns for you; but few moments, Borgia,
but few moments of life; think you, that
you suffer now? There is more coming
things even cannot dream Of" In the face
of Alexander came so awful look of en-
treaty that could bear it no longer. I
stepped into the room, and putting my hand
on Corte's shoulder, said:
Come, let him die in peace"
He turned on me with snarl, but recog.
nizing me, laughed again.
"Ha! ha! Let him die in peace. Why,
man, you saw her die, and can say this?
But heis going too. It is week since his doc.
tor, Matthew Corte, bled him for an ague,
and touched him with little knife, just
little pin prick. He began to die then; but
in too much peace. Why, my dog died in
more agony! But he has felt something.
See those torn curtains! See this disordered
room! He tore those curtains in his mad
ness. He bit at the wood of the chairs, he
howled like q dog at the moon, and they
tied him here, and left him. I alone watch.
1 will let him die in peace. Ha! ha! II is
good. ! do not want him to die yet. ! give
hi fooA or,1 k<1 To ,r,1s
haps he will die. But in peace! ha! ha! I
could almost die with laughter, when hear
that. 1t is too good! Ha! hal"
saw it was hopeless to do anything with
Corte, and the pope was beyond repair. I
might have cut down the mailman, but it
would have served no purpose. For mo-
ment thought / would pass my sword
through the Borgia, and free him from pain.
1t would have been mercy, but luckily
had the sense to restrain myself. Again,
Alexander deserved his fate, and few min
utes more or less would make no difference.
So left the wretch to die the death Of a
dog, that beitted his life, and turning on my
heel, went back through the passage.
Jacopo heaved sigh of relief as we came
out, and felt a different man as ran down
the steps of the Scala Rcgia. Here l met
with De Leyva again, and told him what
had seen.
"The Camerlengo has just gone to him, /"
he answered, referring to the pope, "and you
have missed D'Amboise He has returned
to the Palazzo Corneto. can do nothing
here, and am going myself. Do you walk or
ride? l have no horse"
Walk" answered, and the Spaniard
linked his arm in mine, as, followed by
Jacopo, we took our way back to the car
dinal's house.
On reaching there I sought D'Amboise at
once. He had heard of my arrival, and was
awaitingme. Aftera brief 81 Getting, ] told him
his business was done, and handed him the
quittance had received from Hardwood.
He was nightly pleased, as may be i'm
agined. felt it my duty to inform him of
the death of st. Armande, telling him how
it occurred, without in any way disclosing
my knowledge of the secret. He was much
affected.
ut is a sad business" he said, "but we
have other things to think of now. Mon
Dieu! mon Dieu!" And to this day am
unaware if he knew or not.
But the night was not yet over, and late
as it was, there were yet things to be done.
About midnight we heard that Alexander
was dead, and few minutes later GentiP
Orsini hurried to the cardinal. They held a
hasty council, and De Briconnet and were
summoned. News had come that Cesare had
not yet left Ostia, that he was too ill to
travel, and DAmboise and Orsini resolved
on bold stroke. 1t was nothing less than
the capture of Borgia. Orsini offered to lend
200 lances for the purpose, but leader was
wanted. He could not go himself, as his
arch enemy, Fabrizio Colonna, held all Rome
on the left bank of the Mber, and was in
sufficient force to make dash for the Borgo
Ut any moment. The short of it was, that
at the cardinals Recommendation, received
the command, and about two in the morning
set out for Ostia. If the ships Cesare had
hired had arrived the matter was ended, and
we could do nothing; but if not, there was
every chance of his surrendering without a
blow, as although he had about 500 men
with him, they were not to be relied on, ex-
cept the half-dozen cut-throats who formed
his personal guard, and who might be
trusted to fight to the last. The luck which
had followed me 80 far favored me again,
and pressing on as fast as our horses could
bear US, we came up with the fugitives in the
early morning. Only one ship, too small to
hold all, had come, and they were crowded
on the banks of the Tiber, making every eff
fort to embark. The river shore was strewn
with the enormous quantity of baggage they
had with them, and scene of the utmost
confusion took place on our arrival. The
ship was drawing up to the quay, and we
could see the litter of the Borgia, surround
ed by the few men who meant to fight. The
affair was over in five minutes, and Cesare
was my prisoner. Seeing how matters
stood, the master of the ship anchored in
mid-stream, needless of the yells and exc
crations of the followers of the Borgia, who
were not spared by my men. Indeed, i had
great difficulty in keeping Cesare from harm.
He was in truth very i'll, but was able to
gasp out as he yielded:
pared for everything except being ILL.," He
then lay back in his litter, and spoke no
more.
One short and desperate attempt was
made to rescue him. About dozen horse
men charged right at us, and for moment
it appeared as if they would succeed. But
we were too strong, and although they in
ficted severe loss on us, killing Bande Mere
amongst Others, they were cut down, all
but one, who led them. This man, seeing all
was lost, and determined not to be taken
himself, galloped to the quay, and striking
his spurs home, leaped his horse far into the
river, and made for the vessel The stream
was running fast and strong, but the good
beast, despite his burden, struggled bravely
against the flood. To relieve the horse, the
cavalier, having torn off his morton, slipped
from the saddle, and with his hand on the
pommel, attempted manfully to swim be-
side the animal. The weight of his cuirass,
however, bore him down. Twice his he,'
sank below the water, twice he rose a; in
and battled with the flood. Those on the
ship made no effort to save him, and we on
shore could do nothing. He had now, fight
ing every inch Of his way, drifted astern of
the vessel, and some one flung rope ct him.
HI hand rasaAsd out 70 elAap 4 bsA nislsd,