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Updated: August 31, 2025
"It wasn't very grey not so grey as a goat's. Well, he was always following Annina about, making her presents, cadging for favours. Accidente! I couldn't stand it, you must know. So, thinking of Annina, and of Gesù Cristo, and one thing and another, I decided to follow him back to the Via Gatta and so I did." "Say, Silvestro, what colour was the Jew's blood?"
It was a scented night, the air heavy with the burden of midsummer. The fireflies spread a jewelled web before their faces, great white moths flapped and droned about them. On they pushed, their hands locked through all hazards of brake or briar: neither would let go for a whole world, but Silvestro was always in front, leading Castracane for this once.
It happened one Sunday that Francis paid a visit to his friend Lattanzio Tolomei, who had gone abroad, leaving a message that he would be found in the Church of S. Silvestro, where he was hoping to hear a lecture by Brother Ambrose of Siena on the Epistles of S. Paul, in company with the Marchioness. Accordingly he repaired to this place, and was graciously received by the noble lady.
He cannot be severe. He is born merciful. Silvestro is honest as the day, but he hides things from the marchesa; he is honest, but he cannot no, he cannot grind and vex the poor, as she would have him do. Yet she has no one to take his place in that God-forgotten town so they pull on, man and mistress a truly ill-matched pair pull on, year after year.
Their tongues wagged against each other about nothing at all. Silvestro strengthened his position by hints and shrewd winks, but it was decided that the Jew should be kept for the night fire. That was too choice a morsel to be eaten on the road; that must be rolled on the palate, to get the flavours.
"I will see you again; yes, I will certainly see you again, since you so desire it," said Silvestro, after a good deal of this. "And I will give you what you ask, if it is in my power. But you must trust me so far: you must go away from here, and wait till I send word. I shall owe you every gratitude, every reward I can give you.
The sound of his footsteps brings a whole pack of dogs rushing out upon the gravel. One noble mastiff, with long white hair and strong straight limbs the leader of the pack pursues Silvestro up the dark, tiring stairs. When the mastiff has reached him and smelt at him he stands still, wags his tail, and thrusts his nose into Silvestro's hand. "Poor Argo!" says the steward, meekly.
In about half an hour Silvestro, who had been fidgeting in the cave, came out, restless to have stayed so long beyond sight or hearing of his Pilade. His reception by Andrea was shocking. The gaping boy sprang forward with his arms out. "Ha! Here is a terrible affair," he wailed. "Our Castracane is taken, and for your fault; he will be hanged, and for you! Make your supper of it, you Jew-jerker.
As the room had felt a little chilly from want of use, a large fire of unbarked wood had been kindled. The fire blazes fiercely on the flat stones within an open hearth, unguarded by a grate. Having nodded to Silvestro, the marchesa takes no further notice of him. From time to time she flings a loose paper from those lying before her over her shoulder toward the fire, which is at her back.
"Your accusation that 'I am here to insult you. If you will do me the honor, Count Nobili, to speak to me in private" Guglielmi glanced at Silvestro, Adamo, and Angelo, peering out half hid by the altar "if you will do me this honor, I will prove to you that I am here to serve you." "That is impossible," answered Nobili. "Nor do I care. I leave this house immediately."
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