“It is not,” said I, “a question of what a vow may be to you and yours, but of what a vow is to me. It is a thing I cannot break.”
“Sangue di Cristo!” he snarled, “we will break it for you, then—that or your bones. Resolve yourself, beast, the motley or the rack—or yet, if you prefer it, there is the cord yonder.” And he pointed to the far end of the chamber where some ropes were hanging from a pulley, the implements of the ghastly torture of the cord. Of such a nature was this monster that he made a torture-chamber of his dining-hall.
“Let the rogue make acquaintance with it,” laughed Lampugnani, showing a mouthful of yellow teeth behind the black beard that bushed his lips. “I’ll swear his dancing would afford us more amusement than his quips. Swing him up, Illustrious.”
But the Illustrious seemed to ponder the matter.
“You shall have five minutes in which to decide,” he informed me presently. “They say that I am cruel. Behold how patient is my clemency. Five minutes shall you have where many another would hang you out of hand for bearding him as you have done me.”
“You may begin at once,” said I. “neither five minutes nor five years will alter my determination.”
His brow grew black with anger. “We shall see,” was all he said.
There was a silence now in which we waited, a storm of thoughts battling in my mind. Presently Ramiro caught up one of the flagons and applied it to his cup. It proved empty, and in a gust of passion he hurled it against the wall where it burst into a thousand pieces. Clearly he was very angry, and it taxed my wits to account for the little measure of patience he was showing me.
“Beppo!” he called. A page lounging by the buffet sprang to attention. He was a slender, rather delicate lad, fair of hair and blue of eyes, not more than twelve years of age. An elderly man who stood beside him—one Mariani, the seneschal of Cesena—stepped forward also, solicitude in his glance.
“Bring me wine,” bawled the ogre. “Must I tell you what I need? If you do not put those eyes of yours to better service, I’ll have them plucked from your empty head. Bestir, animal.”