Galeotto stood an instant looking at him and turning very white. Suddenly
he stepped forward, leaving Falcone upon his knees.
"What is this?" he said, his voice a rumble of thunder. "Where is the boy?
I say."
The Lord of Pagliano could not meet the gaze of those steel coloured eyes.
"0 God!" he groaned. "How shall I tell you?"
"Is he dead?" asked Galeotto, his voice hard.
"No, no--not dead. But...But..." The plight of one usually so strong, so
full of mastery and arrogance, was pitiful.
"But what?" demanded the condottiero. "Gesu! Am I a woman, or a man
without sorrows, that you need to stand hesitating? Whatever it may be,
speak, then, and tell me."
"He is in the clutches of the Holy Office," answered Cavalcanti miserably.
Galeotto looked at him, his pallor increasing. Then he sat down suddenly,
and, elbows on knees, he took his head in his hands and spoke no word for a
spell, during which time Falcone, still kneeling, looked from one to the
other in an agony of apprehension and impatience to hear more.
Neither noticed the presence of the equerry; nor would it have mattered if
they had, for he was trusty as steel, and they had no secrets from him.
At last, having gained some measure of self-control, Galeotto begged to
know what had happened, and Cavalcanti related the event.
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