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Updated: May 13, 2025
And now get on!" Bracciolini pointed the way and Demetrios cringed through the door. Bracciolini followed with drawn sword. The corridors were deserted. The head-gaoler had seen to that. His position was simple. Armed, he was certainly not afraid of any combination between a weaponless man and a fettered one. If this jongleur had lied, Bracciolini meant to kill him for his insolence.
My spirits were not revived by noticing the cells on either side of me rapidly emptying, while the little party which went down into the yard in the morning began to dwindle in numbers very rapidly. When the head-gaoler came round on Friday night I decided to tackle him. The suspense was becoming intolerable.
Demetrios, having gleaned this knowledge in a pothouse, purchased a stout file, a scarlet cap and a lute. Ambrogio Bracciolini, head-gaoler at the fortress so the gossips told Demetrios had been a jongleur in youth, and minstrels were always welcome guests at San' Alessandro. The gaoler was a very fat man with icy little eyes.
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