The Making of a Saint

by W. Somerset Maugham

'He shall hear of this,' growled the Piacentini.

'Tell him what you like. Do you think I care? You can tell him that I consider his captain a very impertinent ruffian. Now, let me go.'

'You shall not pass till I choose.'

'By God! man,' I said, absolutely beside myself, 'it seems I cannot touch you here, but if ever we meet in Città di Castello—'

'I will give you any satisfaction you wish,' he answered hotly.

'Satisfaction! I would not soil my sword by crossing it with yours. I was going to say that if ever we meet in Castello I will have you whipped by my lacqueys in the public place.'

I felt a ferocious pleasure in throwing the words of contempt in his face.

'Come on,' said Matteo; 'we cannot waste our time here.'

We put the spurs to our horses. The soldiers looked to their captain to see whether they should stop us, but he gave no order, and we passed through. When we got outside, Matteo said to me,—

'Girolamo must be planning something, or Ercole would not have dared to do that.'