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The Duke's Prize; a Story of Art and Heart in Florence by Maturin Murray Ballou
page 122 of 249 (48%)





Some falls are means the happier to arise.

-Cymbeline.

THE low rough room of that roadside inn presented a wild and tragic
appearance at that moment. On the floor, her head supported by her
faithful attendant, lay the insensible form of Signora Florinda.
Just at her feet, and standing between her and Petro, was the tall,
manly person of Carlton, his right hand holding a pistol towards the
breast of the former, in whose dark countenance was depicted every
evil passion of the soul. The servants in their fright at the sudden
affray had retired to a distant corner of the apartment, while in
another, with his hands over his face, as if to shut out the horrid
scene before him, stood the person of Florinda's uncle.

"What means this scene?" asked Carlton. "Can some of ye speak and
tell me? Gita, what brought your mistress here, and under such
escort? Speak out, girl-I'll protect you."

"Treachery, signor, dark and deep!" said the girl, whom Florinda had
found it necessary to make a confidant of in relation to the
intended elopement and marriage.

"Noble business for an uncle and nephew!"

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