Had he stood before Calli thirty
seconds longer that treacherous heart would have ceased to beat.
While we were standing in the false lists, speaking with the duke, an
Italian approached Max, bowed low, and said:--
"The noble Count Calli approaches to thank you for your mercy and to
extol your bravery."
Max turned his head toward the centre of the course, and saw Calli
surrounded by a crowd of jabbering friends who were leading him toward
us. A black cloud--a very mist from hell--came over Max's face. He
stooped and took his battle-axe from the ground. I placed my hand on the
boy's arm and warningly spoke his name:--
"Max!" After a pause I continued, "Leave murder to the Italians."
Max uttered a snort of disdain, but, as usual, he took my advice. He
turned to Campo-Basso, still grasping his battle-axe:--
"Keep that fellow away from me," he said, pointing toward Calli. "My
merciful mood was brief. By the good God who gave me the villain's life,
I will kill him if he comes within reach of my axe."
An Italian ran to the men who had Calli in charge, and they turned at
once and hurried toward the south gate of the lists. All this action was
very rapid, consuming only a minute or two, and transpired in much less
time than it requires to tell of it.
While our squires were removing Max's armor, I heard the duke say:--
"Arrest Calli. We will hold him until the shot is explained. If he was
privy to it, he shall hang or boil." Then the duke, placing his hand on
Max's shoulder, continued: "You are the best knight in Christendom, the
bravest, the most generous, and the greatest fool.
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