Cosimo bowed, and Galeotto moved at last, for the first time since the
trial's inception.
Until now he had sat like a carved image, save when he had thrust out a
hand to restrain Falcone, and his attitude had filled me with an
unspeakable dread. But at this moment he leaned forward turning an ear
towards Cosimo, as if anxious not to miss a single word that the man might
utter. And Cosimo, intent as he was, did not observe the movement.
"I saw its fellow at the Vatican," said my cousin, "and since the Pope in
his wisdom and goodness judged worthless the witnesses whose signatures it
bears, his holiness thought well to issue the brief upon which your
excellency has acted in summoning Agostino d'Anguissola before you here.
"Thus is that memorial disposed of as a false and lying document."
"And yet," said Gonzaga thoughtfully, his heavy lip between thumb and
forefinger, "it bears, amongst others, the signature of the Lord of
Pagliano's confessor."
"Without violation of the seal of the confessional, it is impossible for
that friar to testify," was the answer. "And the Holy Father cannot grant
him dispensation for so much. His signature, therefore, stands for
nothing."
There followed a moment's silence. The Ten whispered among themselves.
But Gonzaga never consulted them by so much as a glance.
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