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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"

And then with the hum of their
voices gradually receding, it ceased altogether for me, and I was asleep
with my head pillowed upon my arms.
It would be an hour later when I awakened, a little stiff and cramped from
the uncomfortable position in which I had rested. The peasants had
departed and the surly-faced host was standing at my side.
"You should be resuming your journey," said he, seeing me awake. "It wants
but a couple of hours to sunset, and if you are going over the pass it were
well not to let the night overtake you."
"My journey?" said I aloud, and looked askance at him.
Whither, in Heaven's name, was I journeying?
Then I bethought me of my earlier resolve to seek shelter in some convent,
and his mention of the pass caused me to think now that it would be wiser
to cross the mountains into Tuscany. There I should be beyond the reach of
the talons of the Farnese law, which might close upon me again at any time
so long as I was upon Pontifical territory.
I rose heavily, and suddenly bethought me of my utter lack of money. It
dismayed me for a moment. Then I remembered the mule, and determined that
I must go afoot.
"I have a mule to sell," said I, "the beast in your stables."
He scratched his ear, reflecting no doubt upon the drift of my
announcement.


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