He was prone to forget his God, and the lessons that as a babe he had learnt at his mother's knee--for I take it that even Ramiro del' Orca had once been a babe--but deep down in his soul there had remained the fear of Hell and an almost instinctive obedience to the laws of Mother Church.

He could perform such ruthless cruelties as that of hurling a page into the fire to punish his clumsiness; he could rack and stab and hang men with the least shadow of compunction or twinge of conscience, but to slay a man who professed himself to be in mortal sin was a deed too appalling even for this ruthless butcher.
He hesitated a second, then he lowered his hand, his face telling me clearly how deeply he grudged me the respite which, yet, he dared not do other than accord me.
"Where shall I find me a priest ?" he grumbled.

"Think you the Citadel of Cesena is a monastery?
I will wait while you make an act of contrition for your sins.

It is all the shrift I can afford you.

And get it done, for it is time I was abed.