Think you Calli would
have spared you, boy?"
"I am not Calli, my lord," said Max.
"You certainly are not," returned the duke.
Visions of trouble with France growing out of Yolanda's "t," and of a
subsequent union between Max and the princess, floated before my mind,
even amidst the din that surrounded me. Taking the situation by and
large, I was in an ecstasy of joy. Max's victory was a thousand
triumphs in one. It was a triumph over his enemy, a triumph over his
friends, but, above all, a triumph over himself. He had proved himself
brave and merciful, and I knew that in him the world had a man who would
leave it better and happier than he found it.
Calli was arrested and brought to the duke's presence. Of course he
denied all knowledge of the shot that had killed Max's horse. Others
were questioned, including three Italian friars wearing cassocks and
cowls, who bore a most wondrous testimony.
"Your Grace," said one of the friars, "we three men of God can explain
this matter that so nearly touches the honor of our fair countryman, the
noble Count Calli."
"In God's name, do so," exclaimed the duke.
"This is the explanation, most gracious lord. When the third course was
preparing, we three men of God prayed in concert to God the
Father,"--all the friars crossed themselves,--"God the Son, and God the
Holy Ghost, to save our countryman, and lo! our prayers were most
graciously answered; for, noble lord, at the moment when this most
valiant knight was about to kill our friend, we each heard a report
marvellously like to the discharge of an arquebuse.
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