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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"


But, though heard, it was scarcely heard consciously, and it certainly went
unheeded until it was beneath the window and ceasing at the door.
Giuliana's fingers locked themselves upon my arm in a grip of fear.
"Who comes?" she asked, below her breath, fearfully. I sprang from the bed
and crouched, listening, by the window, and so lost precious time.
Out of the darkness Giuliana's voice spoke again, hoarsely now and
trembling.
"It will be Astorre," she said, with conviction. "At this hour it can be
none else. I suspected when I saw him talking to that boy at the gate this
afternoon that he was setting a spy upon me, to warn him wherever he was
lurking, did the need arise."
"But how should the boy know...?" I began, when she interrupted me almost
impatiently.
"The boy saw Messer Gambara ride up. He waited for no more, but went at
once to warn Astorre. He has been long in coming," she added in the tone
of one who is still searching for the exact explanation of the thing that
is happening. And then, suddenly and very urgently, "Go, go--go quickly!"
she bade me.
As in the dark I was groping my way towards the door she spoke again:
"Why does he not knock? For what does he wait?" Immediately, from the
stairs, came a terrific answer to her question--the unmistakable, slip-
slopping footstep of the doctor.


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