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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"


She screamed in that embrace, and sought to battle, swinging round so that
her back was fully towards us, and Farnese, swinging round also in that
struggle, faced us and beheld us.
It was as if a mask had been abruptly plucked from his face, so sudden and
stupendous was its alteration. From flushed that it had been it grew livid
and sickly; the unholy fires were spent in his eyes, and they grew dull and
dead as a snake's; his jaw was loosened, and the sensual mouth looked
unutterably foolish.
For a moment I think I smiled upon him, and then Cavalcanti and I sprang
forward, both together. As we moved, his arms loosened their hold, and
Bianca would have fallen but that I caught her.
Her terror still upon her, she glanced upwards to see what fresh enemy was
this, and then, at sight of my face, as my arms closed about her, and held
her safe--
"Agostino!" she cried, and closed her eyes to lie panting on my breast.
The Duke, fleeing like a scared rat before the anger of Cavalcanti,
scuttled down the room to a small door in the wall that held the fire-
place. He tore it open and sprang through, Cavalcanti following
recklessly.
There was a snarl and a cry, and the Lord of Pagliano staggered back,
clutching one hand to his breast, and through his fingers came an ooze of
blood.


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