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Sabatini, Rafael, 1875-1950

"The Strolling Saint; being the confessions of the high and mighty Agostino D'Anguissola, tyrant of Mondolfo and Lord of Carmina in the state of Piacenza"

0 Agostino!" she cried, and the
smiles all vanished from her face. "Will you grow cruel and suspicious,
too?"
I was disarmed. I realized my meanness and unworthiness.
"Have patience with me," I implored her. "I...I am not myself to-day." I
sighed ponderously, and fell silent as I watched them ride away. Yet I
hated them all; and most of all I hated the dainty, perfumed, golden-headed
Cardinal-legate.
He came again upon the morrow, and we learnt from the news of which he was
the bearer that he had carried out his threat concerning Messer Caro. The
poet was on his way to Parma, to Duke Pier Luigi, dispatched thither on a
mission of importance by the Cardinal. He spoke, too, of sending my cousin
to Perugia, where a strong hand was needed, as the town showed signs of
mutiny against the authority of the Holy See.
When he had departed, Messer Fifanti permitted himself one of his bitter
insinuations.
"He desires a clear field," he said, smiling his cold smile upon Giuliana.
"It but remains for him to discover that his Duke has need of me as well."
He spoke of it as a possible contingency, but sarcastically, as men speak
of things too remote to be seriously considered. He was to remember his
words two days later when the very thing came to pass.
We were at breakfast when the blow fell.


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