Pulp Fiction, 1947 · page 68 of 132
Avon Modern Short Story Monthly #36 — page 68: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1947. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
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wy Tee: | RAFAEL SABATIN a But Charles a Ducwce was not of the company. It j is not e the _ player, himself, to become a piece upon the board. _____-He had caught a whisper that the thing he had so slyly prompted Bot) to Bertrand d’Artois was to be done here at Aversa, and so Charles had remained at Naples. He had discovered very opportunely that his _.. wife was ailing, and he developed such concern for her that he could not bring himself to leave her side. He had excused himself to Andreas with a thousand regrets, since what he most desired was to enjoy with him the cool, clean air of Aversa and the pleasures of the chase; and he had presented the young King at-parting with the best of all his falcons in earnest of affection and disappointment. The night wore on, and at last, at a sign from the Queen, the ladies rose and departed to their beds. The men settled down again. The cellarers redoubled their activities, the flagons circulated more briskly, and the noise they made must have disturbed the monks entrenched in their cells against these earthly vanities. The laughter of Andreas grew louder and more vacuous, and when at last he heaved himself up at midnight and departed to bed, that he might take some rest against the morrow’s hunt, he staggered a little in his walk. _ But there were other hunters there whose impatience could not keep until the morrow, whose game was to be run to death that very night. They waited—Bertrand d’Artois, Robert of Cabane, the Counts of Terlizzi and Morcone, Melazzo and Andreas’s body- servant Pace—until all those who lay at Aversa were deep in slumber. _ Then at two o’clock in the morning they made their stealthy way to _ the loggia on the third floor, a long colonnaded gallery above the Abbot’s garden. They paused a moment before the Queen’s door which opened upon this gallery, then crept on to that of the King’s room at the other end. It was Pace who rapped sharply on the panels thrice before he was answered by a sleepy growl from the other side. ‘ee > Plane ; oid Sa he 3 tS —* * Sat \ § -<, fad ENS ee Sars Wee cope ast. foe ~ « » ra Se eS er aa. 2) é o> . ~~ <: Aad 4 &.. ' ag i Seta py oe 8 we) en See eee a Ex peg Sr _ - — arty 7 : 7 > > ‘a - obs ” i? o~ = nee Sa gl D> sill, > oe: peers . ee “she re : “Tt is I—Pace—my lord,” he announced. “A courier has arrived oa from Naples, from Friar Robert, with instant messages.” From within there was a noisy yawn, a rustle, the sound of an 3 overturning stool, and, lastly, the rasp of a bolt being withdrawn. The a door opened, and in the faint light of the dawning day Andreas ap- ' peared, drawing a fur-lined robe about his body, which was naked of all but a shirt. Aa | 3 comicbooks.com