But I had shut the thought out of my mind to keep me from utter distraction.

The only little thing in which I held that my salvation could lie would be in the miraculous arrival of Cesare Borgia, and of that not the faintest hope existed.

If the greatest luck attended Mariani's errand and the greatest speed were made by the Duke once he received the letter, he could not reach Cesena in less than another eight hours.

And another eight minutes, to reckon by the swift sinking of the sun would see the time appointed for my hanging.

I thought of Joshua in that grim hour, and in a mood that approached the whimsical I envied him his gift.