"
Maso moved a little aside with the intention to pass Sigismund, when Pippo
and Conrad threw themselves on him from behind, pinning his arms to his
sides by main force. The face of the Italian grew livid, and he smiled
with the contempt and hatred of an inveterately angered man. Assembling
all his force, he suddenly exerted it with the energy and courage of a
lion, shouting--
"Nettuno!"
The struggle was short but fierce. When it terminated, Pippo lay bleeding
among the rocks with a broken head, and the pilgrim was gasping near him
under the tremendous gripe of the animal. Maso himself stood firm, though
pale and frowning like one who had collected all his energies, both
physical and moral, to meet this emergency.
"Am I a brute, to be set upon by the scum of the earth?" he cried: "if
thou wouldst aught with me, Signor Sigismondo, raise thine own arm, but
strike not with the hands of these base reptiles; thou wilt find me a man,
in strength and courage, at least not unworthy of thyself."
"The attack on thy person, Maso, was not made by my order, nor by my
desire," returned Sigismund, reddening.
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