“That they kill Christian children to mix the blood in the dough with which they make the bread used at their religious ceremonies,” answered the sbirro.
“Depend upon it. Isaachar has murdered a Christian child for that purpose!” said one of his companions.
This atrocious idea gained immediate belief among the ignorant sbirri; and as the Jew now quitted the room for a few moments to secure the gold which he had just received, in his coffer in the adjacent apartment, the police officers had leisure to point out to their superior the traces of blood which they had noticed, and the suspicion which these marks had engendered.
The lieutenant was not further removed beyond the influence of popular prejudice and ridiculous superstition than even his men: and though by no means of a cruel disposition, yet he thought it no sin nor injustice to persecute the Hebrew race, even when innocent and unoffending. But, now that suspicion, or what he chose to consider suspicion, pointed at Isaachar ben Solomon as a dreadful criminal, the lieutenant did not hesitate many moments how to act.
Thus, when the Jew returned to the room with the fond hope of seeing his visitors take their speedy departure, he was met by the terrible words, uttered by the officer of the sbirri. “In the name of the most high inquisition, Isaachar, do I make you my prisoner!”
The unhappy Jew fell upon his knees, stunned, terrified by the appalling announcement; and although he assumed this attitude of supplication, he had not the power to utter a syllable of intercession or of prayer. Horror had for the moment stricken him dumb: and a thousand images of terror, conjured up by the fearful words, “the inquisition,” suddenly sprung up to scare, bewilder and overwhelm him.
“Bind him, gag him!” ejaculated the lieutenant: and this order was immediately obeyed: for whenever a prisoner was about to be conveyed to the dungeons of the inquisition, he was invariably gagged, in order that no questions on his part might evoke answers at all calculated to afford him a clew to the cause of his arrest.
This precaution was originally adopted in reference to those only who were ignorant of the charges laid against them: but it had subsequently become common in all cases of arrest effected in the name or on the part of the holy brotherhood.
The Palazzo del Podesta, or ducal palace, was one of the most celebrated edifices in Florence. In strong contrast with the various beautiful specimens of composite Tuscan, combined with a well-assimilated portion of the Grecian character, which abounded in Florence, the ducal palace was remarkable for the stern and gloomy character of its architecture. Its massive and heavy tower, crowned with embattled and overhanging parapets, seemed to frown in sullen and haughty defiance at the lapse of Time. The first range of windows were twelve feet from the ground, and were grated with enormous bars of iron, producing a somber and ominous effect. Within were the apartments of the duke’s numerous dependents; and the lower portion of the palace had been rendered thus strong to enable the edifice to withstand a siege in those troublous times, when the contentions of the Guelphs and Ghibelines desolated Florence. On the second floor there was in front a plain and simple architrave, and on that story the windows were high and arched; for those casements belonged to the ducal apartments. The upper stories were in the same style; but the general aspect was stern and mournful to a degree.
The palace was built, as indeed nearly all the Florentine mansions then were, and still are, in the form of a square; and around this court, which was of an antique and gloomy cast, were numerous monumental stones, whereon were inscribed the names of the nobles and citizens who had held high offices in the state previous to the establishment of the sway of the Medici.