The condottiero
took it and placed his finger upon the four letters P L A C--the
abbreviation of "Placentia" in the inscription.
"P--L--A--C," he spelled. "That contains your fate, magnificent, and you
may read it for yourself." And he returned the coin to the Duke, who
stared at the letters foolishly and then at this reader of omens.
"But what is the meaning of PLAC?" he asked, and he had paled a little with
excitement.
"I have a feeling that it is a sign. I cannot say more. I can but point
it out to you, my lord, and leave the deciphering of it to yourself, who
are more skilled than most men in such matters. Have I your excellency's
leave to go doff this dusty garb?" he concluded.
"Ay, go, sir," answered the Duke abstractedly, puzzling now with knitted
brows over the coin that bore his image.
"Come, Falcone," said Galeotto, and with his equerry at his heels he set
his foot on the first step.
Cosimo leaned forward, a sneer on his white hawk-face, "I trust, Ser
Galeotto, that you are a better condottiero than a charlatan."
"And you, sir," said Galeotto, smiling his sweetest in return, "are, I
trust, a better charlatan than a condottiero."
He went up the stairs, the gaudy throng making way before him, and he came
at last to the top, where stood the Lord of Pagliano awaiting him, a great
trouble in his eyes.
Pages:
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399