ued my violence.

Nevertheless I went on, "You smiled to see your spite succeed. You
smiled to see that poor child driven hence by your contriving; you
smiled to see your broken snares avenged. And you were following after
her no doubt to tell her all this and to smile again. This is all so, it
is not?"

"Heh! By Bacchus!" said he for the third time, and at that my patience
gave out utterly. Ere any could stop me I had seized him by throat and
belt and shaken him savagely.

"Will you answer me like a fool?" I cried. "Must you be taught sense and
a proper respect of me?"

"Agostino! Agostino!" wailed my mother. "Help, Ser Giojoso! Do you not
see that he is mad!"

I do not believe that it was in my mind to do the fellow any grievous
hurt. But he was so ill-advised in that moment as to attempt to defend
himself. He rashly struck at one of the arms that held him, and by the
act drove me into a fury ungovernable.

"You dog!" I snarled at him from between clenched teeth. "Would you
raise your hand to me? Am I your lord, or am I dirt of your own kind?
Go learn submission." And I flung him almost headlong down the flight of
steps.

There were twelve of them and all of stone with edges still sharp enough
though blunted here and there by time. The fool had never suspected in
me the awful strength which until that hour I had never suspected in
myself. Else, perhaps, there had been fewer insolent shrugs, fewer
foolish answers, and, last of all, no attempt to defy me physically.

He screamed as I flung him; my mother screamed; and Giojoso screamed.

After that there was a panic-stricken silence whilst he went thudding
and bumping to the bottom of the flight. I did not greatly care if I
killed him. But he was fortunate enough to get no worse hurt than a
broken leg, which should keep him out of mischief for a season and teach
him respect for me for all time.

His father scuttled down the steps to the assistance of that precious
son, who lay moaning where he had fallen, the angle at which the half of
one of his legs stood to the rest of it, plainly announcing the nature
of his punishment.

My mother swept me indoors, loading me with reproaches as we went. She
dispatched some to help Giojoso, others she sent in urgent quest of Fra
Gervasio, me she hurried along to her private dining-room. I went very
obediently, and even a little fearfully now that my passion had fallen
from me.

There, in that cheerless room, which not