The next instant Montanelli had cut the other
one, which bound his ankles.
"Take off the irons, too, sergeant; and then
come here. I want to speak to you."
He stood by the window, looking on, till the
sergeant threw down the fetters and approached him.
"Now," he said, "tell me everything that has
been happening."
The sergeant, nothing loath, related all that he
knew of the Gadfly's illness, of the "disciplinary
measures," and of the doctor's unsuccessful attempt
to interfere.
"But I think, Your Eminence," he added,
"that the colonel wanted the straps kept on as a
means of getting evidence."
"Evidence?"
"Yes, Your Eminence; the day before yesterday
I heard him offer to have them taken off if
he"--with a glance at the Gadfly--"would answer
a question he had asked."
Montanelli clenched his hand on the window-sill,
and the soldiers glanced at one another: they
had never seen the gentle Cardinal angry before.
As for the Gadfly, he had forgotten their existence;
he had forgotten everything except the
physical sensation of freedom.
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