Міжзірковий мандрівник
Chapter 11
’”
AndwhenPonshadsaidthename,Iknewitatonceforthepriest,Martinelli,whohadbeenknockinghisheelstwomortalhoursintheroomwithout.
WhenMartinelliwaspermittedtoenterandashesalutedmebytitleandname,Iknewatoncemynameandallofit.IwasCountGuillaumedeSainte-Maure.(Yousee,onlycouldIknowthen,andrememberafterward,whatwasinmyconsciousmind.)
ThepriestwasItalian,darkandsmall,leanaswithfastingorwithawastinghungernotofthisworld,andhishandswereassmallandslenderasawoman’s.Buthiseyes!Theywerecunningandtrustless,narrow-slittedandheavy-lidded,atoneandthesametimeassharpasaferret’sandasindolentasabaskinglizard’s.
“Therehasbeenmuchdelay,CountdeSainte-Maure,”hebeganpromptly,whenPonshadlefttheroomataglancefromme.“HewhomIservegrowsimpatient.”
“Changeyourtune,priest,”Ibrokeinangrily.“Remember,youarenotnowinRome.”
“Myaugustmaster—”hebegan.
“RulesaugustlyinRome,mayhap,”Iagaininterrupted.“ThisisFrance.”
Martinellishruggedhisshouldersmeeklyandpatiently,buthiseyes,gleaminglikeabasilisk’s,gavehisshouldersthelie.
