Pipa nodded. She could not speak, it was too horrible.
"Santo Dio! I did not know it!" He struck upon his breast. "Assassin!
I have killed her! Assassin! Beast! what have I done?"
Again the air rang with Pipa's shrill cries. The Corellia men, who with eager hands pass the buckets down the hill, stop, and stare, and wonder. Fra Pacifico, who had eyes and ears for every one, turned, and ran forward to where Pipa sat wringing her hands upon the ground, the marchesa leaning against her.
"Is Enrica in the tower?" asked Fra Pacifico.
"Yes, yes!" the marchesa answered feebly. "You must save her!"
"Then follow me!" shouted the priest, swinging his strong arms above his head.
Adamo leaped from the ladder. Others—they were among the very poorest—stepped out and joined him and the priest; but at the very entrance they were met and buffeted by such a gust of fiery wind, such sparks and choking smoke, that they all fell back aghast. Fra Pacifico alone stood unmoved, his tall, burly figure dark against the glare. At this instant a man wrapped in a cloak rushed out of the wood, crossed the red circle reflected from the fire, and dashed into the archway.
"Stop him! stop him!" shouted Adamo from behind.
"You go to certain death!" cried Fra Pacifico, laying his hand upon him.
"I am prepared to die," the other answered, and pushed by him.