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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"


We stood at gaze, the length of the little low-ceilinged chamber between
us, both of us breathing hard.
Then I looked round for something with which to defend myself; for it was
plain that he meant to have my life. By a great ill-chance it happened
that the sword which I had worn upon that day when I went as Giuliana's
escort into Piacenza was still standing in the very corner where I had set
it down. Instinctively I sprang for it, and Fifanti, never suspecting my
quest until he saw me with a naked iron in my hand, did nothing to prevent
my reaching it.
Seeing me armed, he laughed. "Ho, ho! The saint-at-arms!" he mocked.
"You'll be as skilled with weapons as with holiness!" And he advanced upon
me in long stealthy strides. The width of the table was between us, and he
smote at me across it. I parried, and cut back at him, for being armed
now, I no more feared him than I should have feared a child. Little he
knew of the swordcraft I had learnt from old Falcone, a thing which once
learnt is never forgotten though lack of exercise may make us slow.
He cut at me again, and narrowly missed the lamp in his stroke. And now, I
can most solemnly make oath that in the thing that followed there was no
intent. It was over and done before I was conscious of the happening.


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