I knocked again, more imperatively, and at last the postern in the door was
opened by an elderly serving-man.
"What's this?" he asked, and thrust a lanthorn into my face.
"We seek Messer Cosimo d'Anguissola," I answered. He looked beyond me at
the troop that lined the street, and his face became troubled. "Why, what
is amiss?" quoth he.
"Fool, I shall tell that to your master. Conduct me to him. The matter
presses."
"Nay, then--but have you not heard? My lord was wed to-day. You would not
have my lord disturbed at such a time?" He seemed to leer.
I put my foot into his stomach, and bore him backward, flinging him full
length upon the ground. He went over and rolled away into a corner, where
he lay bellowing.
"Silence him!" I bade the men who followed us in. "Then, half of you
remain here to guard the stairs; the rest attend us."
The house was vast, and it remained silent, so that it did not seem that
the clown's scream when he went over had been heard by any.
Up the broad staircase we sped, guided by the light of the lanthorn, which
Falcone had picked up--for the place was ominously in darkness. Cavalcanti
kept pace with me, panting with rage and anxiety.
At the head of the stairs we came upon a man whom I recognized for one of
the Duke's gentlemen-in-waiting.
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