We are not torturers, we of the
Colonne," answered Marc'antonio, gravely.
A clock on the mantelpiece tinkled out the hour of nine.
"No, nor shall be murderers," I interposed. "The Princess is yet
your mistress, O Marc'antonio, and I am her husband. In the
Princess's name I command you both that you do not harm him."
To my amazement the wretched youth drew himself up, his cowardice
gone, his face twisted with sudden venomous passion.
"_You? You_ will protect me? Dog, I can die, but not owe _that!_"
I leapt forward, disregarding him, seeing that Marc'antonio's hand
was lifted, and that in it a dagger glittered. But before I could
leap the Prince had snatched one of the steel rods from the brazier--
a charcoal rake. And as I struck up Marc'antonio's arm, the rake
crashed down on my skull, tearing the scalp with its white-hot teeth.
I staggered back with both hands held to my head. I did not see the
stroke itself; but between my spread fingers I saw the Prince sink to
the floor with the handle of Marc'antonio's dagger between his
shoulder-blades. I saw the blood gush from his mouth.
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