I’m not Gerald, remember. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. He led her unerringly, pushing her down the narrow stairway that had been the servants’ access to the upper floors, and thence through a small door that led into the chapel. He begged their attention for the next turn. Should be home soon. Spare him! spare him!" "On one condition I will spare him," returned Wild; "on one condition only. You might be able to use the picture some day. But he had been forewarned by his great-nephew. CHAPTER XVI.
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