By the living
God, I do! And as for the man who was to have supplanted me----" He
paused, a deadly smile on his sensual mouth completing the sentence more
effectively than lay within the power of words. "Who could it have
been?" he mused. "I've vowed that if Heaven will grant me that I
discover him, I'll burn a candle to Santa Fosca every Saturday for a
twelvemonth and go fasting on the Vigil of the Dead. Who--who could it
have been, Franceschino?"
"How should I know?" returned Francesco, evading the question.
"You know so much, Checco mio. Your mind is so quick to fathom matters
of this kind. Think you, now, it might have been the Duca Valentino?"
Francesco shook his head.
"When Caesar Borgia comes he will know no need to resort to such poor
means. He will come in arms to reduce you by his might."
"God and the saints protect me!" gasped the Duke. "You talk of it as if
he were already marching."
"Then I talk of it advisedly. The event is none so remote as you would
make yourself believe. Listen, Gian Maria! I have not ridden from
Aquila for just the pleasure of passing the time of day with you.
Fabrizio da Lodi and Fanfulla degli Arcipreti have been with me of late."
"With you?" cried the Duke, his little eyes narrowing themselves as they
glanced up at his cousin. "With you--eh?" He shrugged his shoulders
and spread his palms before him. "Pish! See into what errors even so
clear a mind as mine may fall. Do you know, Francesco, that marking
their absence since that conspiracy was laid, I had a half-suspicion they
were connected with it.
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