“It was my honour. I will go and pay it, and die.”
He caught at and held me.
“To whom?”
“To de’ Medici. Let me go. Only you could have saved me, and you will
not; and it is right.”
Never quitting his hold, he turned from me, with a wild gesture of his
free arm.
“It was her life or yours,” I said. “Make it my curse, if you will,
that I chose the dearer to me.”
With a mad groan, he snatched me from my feet, and, holding me
fiercely against his breast, carried me out and to the foot of the
steps.
[The End]