INtheeveningBartolomeoreturnedtothePalaceandaskedforChecco.AthisrequestMatteoandIjoinedhiminChecco'sstudy,andbesidestherewerehistwosons,ScipioneandAlessandro.Bartolomeowasgraverthanever.
'Ihavecometoyounow,Checco,impelledbyaverystrongsenseofduty,andIwishtotalkwithyouonamatterofthegreatestimportance.'
Heclearedhisthroat.
'Firstly,areyouconvincedthattheattemptonyourlifewasplottedbyGirolamoRiario?'
'Iamsorryforhissake,but—Iam.'
'Soareweall,absolutely.Andwhatdoyouintendtodonow?'
'WhatcanIdo?Nothing!'
'Theanswerisnotnothing.Youhavesomethingtodo.'
'Andthatis?'
'TokillGirolamobeforehehastimetokillyou.'
Checcostartedtohisfeet.
'Theyhavebeentalkingtoyou—MatteoandFilippo.Itistheywhohaveputthisinyourhead.Iknewitwouldbesuggestedagain.'
'Nothinghasgivenmetheideabuttheirresistibleforceofcircumstances.'
'Never!Iwillneverconsenttothat.'
'Buthewillkillyou.'
'Icandie!'
'Itwillbetheruinofyourfamily.Whatwillhappentoyourwifeandchildrenifyouaredead?'
'Ifneedbetheycandietoo.NoonewhobearsthenameofOrsifearsdeath.'
'Youcannotsacrificetheirlivesincoldblood.'
'Icannotkillafellow-manincoldblood.Ah,myfriend,youdon'tknowwhatisinme.IamnotreligiousIhavenevermeddledwithpriestsbutsomethinginmyhearttellsmenottodothisthing.Idon'tknowwhatitis—conscienceorhonour—butitisspeakingclearlywithinme.'
Hehadhishandonhisheart,andwasspeakingveryearnestly.Wefollowedhiseyesandsawthemrestingonacrucifix.
'No,Bartolomeo,'hesaid,'onecannotforgetGod.Heisaboveusalways,alwayswatchingusandwhatshouldIsaytoHimwiththebloodofthatmanonmyhands?Youmaysaywhatyoulike,but,believeme,itisbesttobehonestandstraight-forward,andtotheutmostofone'sabilitytocarryoutthedoctrineswhichChristhasleftus,anduponwhichhesetthesealwiththebloodofHishandsandfeetandthewoundinHisside.'
Bartolomeolookedatmeasifitwerehopelesstoattemptanythingagainstsuchsentiments.ButIsignedhimenergeticallytogoonhehesitated.Itwouldbealmosttragicifhegavet