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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"

Falcone ran to him. But Cavalcanti swore like a man possessed.
"It is nothing!" he snapped. "By the horns of Satan! it is nothing. A
flesh wound, and like a fool I gave back before it. After him! In there!
Kill! Kill!"
Out came Falcone's sword with a swish, and into the dark closet beyond went
the equerry with a roar, Cavalcanti after him.
It seemed that scarce had Farnese got within that closet than, flattening
himself against the wall, he had struck at Cavalcanti as the latter
followed, thus driving him back and gaining all the respite he needed. For
now they found the closet empty. There was a door beyond, that opened to a
corridor, and this was locked. Not a doubt but that Farnese had gone that
way. They broke that door down. I heard them at it what time I comforted
Bianca, and soothed her, stroking her head, her cheek, and murmuring fondly
to her until presently she was weeping softly.
Thus Cavalcanti and Falcone found us presently when they returned. Farnese
had escaped with one of his gentlemen who had reached him in time to warn
him that the street was full of soldiers and the palace itself invaded.
Thereupon the Duke had dropped from one of the windows to the garden, his
gentleman with him, and Cavalcanti had been no more than in time to see
them disappearing through the garden gate.


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