ook her head.

_Blast Alain. He must have overslept, too._

Sophia said, "But how will you get out of here? It is not as easy to
climb up to the roof as it is to climb down from it."

Simon went to the window and pushed the curtain aside. The rope he had
climbed down on was still dangling from above. He gave it a hard pull,
and it held firm. He looked up at the sky. It was a deep violet with
only a few faint stars and one brightly shining planet.

_The morning star might be Venus, a good omen for a lover._

His heart was light, even though he was leaving Sophia. It had been a
beautiful night.

A half-filled cup of wine stood on the table by her bed. He swigged it
to rinse his mouth, swallowed, then wiped his lips with the back of his
hand. He tried to think of some parting word worthy of a troubadour, but
none occurred to him.

She stood by the bed, her eyes warm. He held out his arms and she
slipped into them with as much ease as if they had been lovers for
years. She was so much shorter than he that he had to lean down to kiss
her, and as he did she arched her body against him.

"I love you," he whispered, embarrassed by its prosaic simplicity. But
it was simple truth.

"And I love you." She kissed him quickly on the lips and turned away.

Her words stunned him. He felt for a moment as if he were going to fall
dead on the spot. And that if he did, it would be a perfect moment to
die.

The candles were almost burned to the bottom. He looked over at the
painting of Saint Simon Stylites, whose blue eyes seemed to gleam out at
him from the shadows.

He wrapped the rope around both arms, gave it another yank to be sure it
was tied tightly above, and stepped up on the windowsill. He swung
around so that he was facing the wall of the mansion and began to climb,
his joy at her parting words making him feel stronger and more agile.
His hands gripped the rough rope; his feet in calfskin boots pressed
against the wall, pointed toes seeking out cracks. He did not look at
the stone-paved street three stories below.

He heard voices in the street--and froze. There were men gathered down
there. If they looked up, they would see him climbing up the front of
the cardinal's mansion.

_Move quickly_, he told himself. He scrambled up to the square Guelfo
merlon around which his rope was tied, pulled himself over the parapet,
and dropped with relief to the flagstones of the flat roof.

He untied the rope. Curiosity made