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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"


These are lies which have been uttered to my hurt. In dooming me you doom
an innocent man. Be it so. I do not know that I have found the world so
delectable a place as to quit it with any great regret. My blood be upon
your own heads and upon this iniquitous and monstrous tribunal. But spare
yourselves at least the greater offence of asking my confession of a
falsehood."
The little eyes had vanished. The face grew very evil, stirred at last
into animosity by my denunciation of that court. Then the inscrutable mask
slipped once more over that odious countenance.
He took up a little mallet, and struck a gong that stood beside him.
I heard a creaking of hinges, and saw an opening in the wall to my right,
where I had perceived no door. Two men came forth--brawny, muscular,
bearded men in coarse, black hose and leathern waistcoats cut deep at the
neck and leaving their great arms entirely naked. The foremost carried a
thong of leather in his hands.
"The hoist," said the inquisitor shortly.
The men advanced towards me and came to replace the familiars between whom
I had been standing. Each seized an arm, and they held me so. I made no
resistance.
"Will you confess?" the inquisitor demanded. There is still time to save
yourself from torture."
But already the torture had commenced, for the very threat of it is known
as the first degree.


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