Suddenly a great voice, and I knew it for the voice of Bianca, called me by
name.
"Agostino!"
The vision was dissipated. It was night again and we were riding for
Pagliano through the fertile lands of ultra-Po; and there was Bianca
clutching at my breast and uttering my name in accents of fear, whilst the
company about me was halting.
"What is it?" cried Cavalcanti. Are you hurt?" I understood. I had been
dozing in the saddle, and I must have rolled out of it but that Bianca
awakened me with her cry. I said so.
"Body of Satan!" he swore. "To doze at such a time!"
"I have scarce been out of the saddle for three days and three nights--this
is the fourth," I informed him. I have had but three hours' sleep since we
left Rome. I am done," I admitted. "You, sir, had best take your
daughter. She is no longer safe with me."
It was so. The fierce tension which had banished sleep from me whilst
these things were doing, being now relaxed, left me exhausted as Galeotto
had been at Bologna. And Galeotto had urged me to halt and rest there! He
had begged for twelve hours! I could now thank Heaven from a full heart
for having given me the strength and resolution to ride on, for those
twelve hours would have made all the difference between Heaven and Hell.
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