Chapter 59

The command and the movement were lost in the confusion. The horsemen were forming up behind Visconti, the walls and street crowded; from every distant window and house-top shouting spectators gazed on the gorgeous scene below. Visconti drew his sword, and held its glittering cross high up against the sapphire sky. "Now glory be to God, His angels, and San' Apollinare, my patron saint, that I am entered into my city again; and for my most miraculous escape, there shall be an altar of jasper and serpentine in the Lo…