Where is he? Tell me at once--if
only to save YOURSELF trouble!"
Overcome by fear, and to do her justice, horror as well, the
miserable Pon-Pon threw herself on her knees.
"I swear he has gone to Naples!" she cried--"On my word!--as I
live!--I swear it!--he has gone! He seemed as usual,--he was not in
any haste--he left no message--he said he would be back in two or
three days--he sent flowers to la Donna Sovrani--he wrote to her
. . . O Santissima Virgine! . . . I swear to you I know nothing!"
The Prince eyed her with grim attention.
"They are shouting it in the streets--" he said--"Listen!" He held
up one hand,--she cowered on the floor--she could hear nothing, and
she stared at him in fascinated terror--"They are telling all Rome
of the death of my child! First Rome--and then--the world! The world
shall hear of it! For there is only one Angela Sovrani,--and earth
and heaven cry out for justice in her name! Tell this to the devil
who has bought you for his pleasure! I leave the message with you,--
tell him that when the world clamours for vengeance upon her
murderer, I KNOW WHERE TO FIND HIM!"
With that, he put the dagger-sheath back in his breastpocket with
jealous care, and left her where she crouched, shivering and
moaning.
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