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Updated: June 17, 2025
Taylor at first baptized three of Ramiro's cousins who hail from the same village twenty miles away and recently he baptized the uncle, aunt, some more cousins and Ramiro himself. Ramiro taught the words of many hymns to his family and neighbors. Through him and his book his aged grandparents, ninety years old and bedridden, rejoice in the Savior.
"They are exacting the truth from the Governor of Cesena," said he. "I think, Madonna, that we had better move a little farther off. Ramiro's voice makes indifferent music for a lady's ear." She was white as death at the horrid noise and all the things of which it may have reminded her, and so we passed from the antechamber and sought the more distant places of the castle. Here let me pause.
The little fellow trudged home, twenty miles away, carrying his priceless present, and showed it joyously to his parents. This was the first book that ever entered their humble home, excepting, of course, Ramiro's little school book. Curious to know what the book contained, the father put Ramiro to deciphering some of its pages.
"Even if you are my father, why should I not kill you, who have forced me to your will by threats of death, you who wronged and shamed me, you because of whom I have been hunted through the streets like a mad dog, and made an outcast?" And Adrian looked so fierce, and brought down his sword so close, that hope sank very low in Ramiro's heart.
Harsh as it was, however, Ramiro's rule was salutary, its very harshness necessary in a province where lawlessness had become a habit through generations of misgovernment. Under Cesare's dominion the change already was remarkable.
He did more indeed, for presently thrusting over Ramiro's guard, he wounded him slightly in the left arm. The sting of his hurt seemed to stir Ramiro's blood; at any rate he changed his tactics and began to attack in turn.
Instantly I dropped on all fours, lest Ramiro, awaking suddenly, should turn; and I waited for the least sign that should render advisable my seeking the cover of the buffet. In the gallery above I could picture old Mariani clenching his teeth at the noise, his knees knocking together, and his face white with horror; for Ramiro's snoring had abruptly ceased.
I rose upon the instant, and my fears rose with me. But I kept a bold front as I went down into the hall, where Ramiro and the blackguards of his Court were sitting, with three or four men-at-arms at attention by the door. Close to the pulleys appertaining to the torture of the cord stood two leather-clad ruffians Ramiro's executioners.
I drew back and taking up a position behind Ramiro's chair a position more favourable to escape in the untoward event of his awaking I craned forward to read the letter over his shoulder. I thanked God in that hour for two things: that my sight was keen, and that Vitellozzo Vitelli wrote a large, bold hand.
I rose and proceeded now with a caution that must guard me from any more unlooked-for obstacles. Moreover, as I approached, the darkness was dispelled more and more at every stride in the direction of the light. At last I reached the table, and stood silent as a spectre at Ramiro's side, looking down upon the features of the sleeping man.
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