"Of what sacrilege can I be guilty?" I asked.
"The tribunal will inform you," replied the familiar--a tall, sallow,
elderly man.
"The tribunal will need, then, to await some other opportunity," said
Cavalcanti suddenly. "Messer d'Anguissola is my guest; and my guests are
not so rudely plucked forth from Pagliano."
The Duke drew away, and leaned upon the arm of Cosimo, watching. Behind me
in the gallery I heard a rustle of feminine gowns; but I did not turn to
look. My eyes were upon the stern sable figure of the familiar.
"You will not be so ill-advised, my lord," he was saying, "as to compel us
to use force."
"You will not, I trust, be so ill-advised as to attempt it," laughed
Cavalcanti, tossing his great head. "I have five score men-at-arms within
these walls, Messer BlackÂclothes."
The familiar bowed. "That being so, the force for to-day is yours, as you
say. But I would solemnly warn you not to employ it contumaciously against
the officers of the Holy Office, nor to hinder them in the duty which they
are here to perform, lest you render yourself the object of their just
resentment."
Cavalcanti took a step forward, his face purple with anger that this
tipstaff ruffian should take such a tone with him. But in that instant I
seized his arm.
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