And with that
I heard scream after scream from the doorway where Bianca stood
swaying, and shouts from the garden answering her screams.
"Foolish girl!" said Marc'antonio, quietly. "And yet, perhaps, so
best!"
He stepped over the Prince's body, and taking me by both shoulders,
hurried me through the room where the priest hung, and forth into the
vestibule. Stephanu did the same with Bianca, halting on his way to
catch up the crown and wrap it carefully in the girl's cloak. At the
garden gate he thrust the bundle into my hands, even as Marc'antonio
pushed us both into the lane.
Outside the door I caught at the wall and drew breath, blinking while
the hot blood ran over my eyes. I looked for them to follow and help
me, for I needed help. But the door was closed softly behind us, and
a moment later I heard their footsteps as they ran back along the
vestibule, back towards the shouting voices; then, after a long
silence, a shot; then a loud cry, "CORSICA!" and another shot.
"They have killed him?"
I turned feebly to Bianca; but Bianca had not spoken. She leaned,
dumb with fright, against the wall of the alleyway, and stared at the
Princess, who faced us, panting, in the whirls of snow.
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