“Another?”
“Courage, most excellent; ’tis but half a man when all’s said. He was a State prisoner in the Vicaria, until the mob released him with the rest. Then he disappeared, God knew whither; but he was retaken, with a few more, in the prisoner Pissani’s company. Well then, his day will come, no doubt; and in the meantime, waiting orders, we keep them caged together.”
De’ Medici grunted, rubbing his chin, “I should have been told; but, hurry, friend.”
The man waved him back.
“Let me entreat messer, in case of an attempt.”
The chief withdrew a little.
“Open, and come thou too,” said he. “Madam would speak alone with the condemned.”
The key grated in the lock; the creature flung wide the door.
“Pissani!” cried he, on a sharp note; and that was all.
Even as he retreated, having uttered his cry, she stood in the opening. A dank and mortal odour came with her, a reel of filthy darkness unbroken but by the dim splotch of a tiny grating, which, set in the wall opposite, made an aureole behind her head as she stood.