The soldiers were
crossing the square, dragging their
prisoner after them by the rope with which his
hands were tied. His face was livid with pain and
exhaustion, and he panted fearfully for breath;
but he looked round at the Cardinal, smiling with
white lips, and whispered:
"I c-cong-gratulate your Eminence."
. . . . .
Five days later Martini reached Forli. He
had received from Gemma by post a bundle of
printed circulars, the signal agreed upon in case of
his being needed in any special emergency; and,
remembering the conversation on the terrace, he
guessed the truth at once. All through the journey
he kept repeating to himself that there was
no reason for supposing anything to have happened
to the Gadfly, and that it was absurd to
attach any importance to the childish superstitions
of so nervous and fanciful a person; but the
more he reasoned with himself against the idea,
the more firmly did it take possession of his mind.
"I have guessed what it is: Rivarez is taken, of
course?" he said, as he came into Gemma's room.
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