United States or Syria ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
It happened to be Cristofero Colon's day to do the southward journey, and despite the lank dog's most strenuous efforts, he continued his way, gravely carrying the dusty mail-bags to their destination. The dog remained behind with the Mule, pessimistically sniffing at his clothing, recognizing, no doubt, that which, next to an earthquake, is the easiest thing to recognize in nature.
"If you do," cried the other, passionately, with a bang on the stock of his gun that startled Cristofero Colon "if you do, I will shoot you." The Mule smiled slowly, just as he smiled when the people cried "Ai- i-ieah" as he passed them. "I am going to marry her," he said, with a shake of the head.
Franchi is in the Keep Wing, dining with the delegates," Signor Cristofero informed his companions. "This man will conduct us there and admit us. He has the pass keys." The party, led by the scowling Baptist, trooped into the château like a party of eager tourists ciceroned by a sulky guide.
But history does record the splendors and display of the ceremonial with which the gray-haired old doge, Cristofero Moro, in the great hall of the palace, surrounded by the senators of the Republic and all the rank and power of the State of Venice, formally adopted Catarina as a "daughter of the Republic." Thus to the dignity of her father's house was added the majesty of the great Republic.
You have carte blanche in the matter of money, and you shall be paid an immense sum for success." "This man," said Signor Cristofero, "undertook the mission.
He obviously did not desire to lead the way any farther. After a short, low-toned conversation with Signor Cristofero, he went back through the triple-locked door. "He fears his master," the detective remarked, with a shrug. "He is going to make his escape from the château, lest the other servants execute vengeance on him. No matter. We are now arrived."
The great Council Hall was one mass of color; the splendid dresses of the ladies, the scarlet robes of the senators and high officials of the Republic, the imposing vestments of the old doge, Cristofero Moro, as he sat in state upon his massive throne, and the bewildering array of the seventy-two candidates for a king's choice.
Herr Ritter!" cried 'Tista, bursting open the door of the little chamber, in a state of great delight; "look what Cristofero has just given me! These beautiful roses! Will you have them?" "Not I, 'Tista, thank you. Gay colors and sweet odours are not for me. Put them here in this cup by your mother's side. Now, Frau 'Lora, I will not be contradicted!"
Franchi, looking at him for the first time, "the passage she will take.... So, Angelo, this is your work. I might have guessed. Gentlemen, my only and distinguished brother." With a bow he introduced Signor Cristofero to his guests. The detective smiled grimly at him, and addressed him in the Italian of the Lombardy Alps. "This point is mine, I think, Silvio.
Then came a picture of a cheerful and corpulent ecclesiastic in a shovel hat, sitting opposite a very thin European, and the inscription: "Lunch with Fra Cristofero at Rosario."
Word Of The Day