"Farewell!" blubbered the executioner's wife, pressing his hand to her lips. “All right. Little woman, you have been brave enough before. They would arrest him for the French spy they had thought her at first. This is simply a chapter of coincidences. I had not the time to formulate the decoctions that would have saved him— they take weeks to create and must come from your own blood! You were perilously close to death, and had I not watched you constantly for the week you were unconscious they would have buried you alive! Gianfrancesco was ready to give up after two days, 172 ready to throw you in the plague cart! Of course he had no use for you after bearing witness to the loss of your womanly organs. He wanted to know what the joke against him was—if any. "But we must be getting along if we are to lunch in the tower of the water-clock. I have a new cult to teach, a new enthusiasm. He ventured to the great gates, and by inserting his gimblets into the wood at intervals, so as to form points upon which he could rest his foot, he contrived, to ascend them; and when at the top, having fastened a portion of his dress to the spikes, he managed, not without considerable risk, to draw up his female companion.
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