"You saw nothing of the paper that I held?
Nay, by the Host! I'll take no risks.

You were born 'neath an unlucky star, fool; for be your reason for your presence here no more than you assert, you have come in a season that must be fatal to you." He set the candle on the table, then carrying his hand to his girdle he withdrew it sharply, and I caught the gleam of a dagger.
In that instant I thought of Mariani waiting above, and like a flash it came to me that if I could outpace this drunken brigand, and, gaining the gallery well ahead of him, transfer that letter to the old man's hands, I should not die in vain.

Cesare Borgia would avenge me, and Madonna Paola, at least, would be safe from this villain.

If Mariani could reach Valentino at Faenza, I would answer for it that within four-and-twenty hours Messer Ramiro del' Orca would be the banner on that ghastly beam that he facetiously dubbed his flagstaff; and he would be the blackest, dirtiest banner that ever yet had fluttered there.
The thought conceived in the twinkling of an eye, I acted upon without a second's hesitation.

Ere Ramiro had taken his first step towards me, I had sprung to the stairs and I was leaping up them with the frantic speed of one upon whose heels death is treading closely.
A singular, fierce joy was blent with my measure of fear; a joy at the thought that even now, in this extremity, I was outwitting him, for never a doubt had he that the burnt paper he had found on the table was all that was left of Vitelli's letter.