On the instant the officers of Ludwig laid hands upon the Duke, fearing that the indignity might spur him to retaliation.
“You are very opportune,” said Ludwig; and added coldly, “Dispatch him.”
Charles screamed a moment, even as Andreas had screamed on that same spot, when he found himself staring into the fearful face of death. Then the scream became a cough as a Hungarian sword went through him from side to side.
They picked up his body from the tessellated floor of the loggia, carried it to the parapet as Andreas's had been carried, and flung it down into the Abbot's garden as Andreas's had been flung. It lay in a rosebush, dyeing the Abbot's roses a deeper red.
Never was justice more poetic.
XI. THE NIGHT OF HATE—The Murder Of The Duke Of Gandia
The Cardinal Vice-Chancellor took the packet proffered him by the fair-haired, scarlet-liveried page, and turned it over, considering it, the gentle, finely featured, almost ascetic face very thoughtful.
“It was brought, my lord, by a man in a mask, who will give no name. He waits below,” said the scarlet stripling.
“A man in a mask, eh? What mystery!”