XXXVII
關燈
小
中
大
alace.AndItoldhimhowoldOrsohadrefusedtoflyandhadbeenseized,whileIhadlainsenselessonthefloor.
'Youdidyourbest,Filippo,'saidChecco.'Youcoulddonothingmore.Butafterwards?'
ItoldthemhowMarcoScorsacanaandPietrohadbeentakenprisoners,andledintothetownlikethievescaughtintheacthowthecrowdhadgatheredtogether,andhowtheyhadbeenbroughttothesquareandhangedfromthePalacewindow,andtheirbodiestorntopiecesbythepeople.
'Oh,God!'utteredChecco.'Andallthisismyfault.'
ItoldthemthattheoldOrsowasbroughtforwardandtakentohispalace,andbeforehiseyesitwastorndown,stoneafterstone,tillonlyaheapofruinsmarkedthesite.
Checcogaveasob.
'Mypalace,myhome!'
Andthen,asiftheblowwastoogreat,hebenthisheadandburstintotears.
'Donotweepyet,Checco,'Isaid.'Youwillhavecausefortearspresently.'
Helookedup.
'Whatmore?'
'Yourf
