Andrea a large sum of money and bade him buy the
best pictures he could find, and afterwards return without fail.

So Andrea journeyed back to Florence, and when he was once again with
his wife, his joy and delight in her were so great that he forgot all
his promises, forgot even the king's trust, and allowed Lucrezia to
squander all the money which was to have been spent on art treasures
for King Francis.

Then returned the evil days of trouble and quarrelling. Added to that
the terrible feeling that he had betrayed his trust and broken his
word, made Andrea more unhappy than ever. He dared not return to
France, but took up again his work in Florence, always with the hope
that he might make enough money to repay the debt.

Years went by and dark days fell upon the City of Flowers. She had made
a great struggle for liberty and had driven out the Medici, but they
were helped by enemies from without, and Florence was for many months
in a state of siege. There was constant fighting going on and little
time for peaceful work.

Yet through all those troubled days Andrea worked steadily at his
painting, and paid but little heed to the fate of the city. The stir of
battle did not reach his quiet studio. There was enough strife at home;
no need to seek it outside.

It was about this time that he painted a beautiful picture for the
Company of San Jacopo, which was used as a banner and carried in their
processions. Bad weather, wind, rain, and sunshine have spoiled some of
its beauty, but much of the loveliness still remains. It is specially a
children's picture, for Andrea painted the great saint bending over a
little child in a white robe who kneels at his feet, while another
little figure kneels close by. The boy has his hands folded together as
if in prayer, and the kind strong hand of the saint is placed lovingly
beneath the little chin. The other child is holding a book, and both
children press close against the robe of the protecting saint.

But although Andrea could paint his pictures undisturbed while war was
raging around, there was one enemy waiting to enter Florence who
claimed attention and could not be ignored. When the triumphant troops
gained an entrance by treachery, they brought with them that deadly
scourge which was worse than any earthly enemy, the dreadful illness
called the plague.

Perhaps Andrea had suffered for want of good food during the siege,
perhaps he was overworked and tired; but, whatever