ed, the fugitive secured his band and hastily slid
down it. Whether it was fatigue, or that he thought himself nearer the
ground than he really was, it is impossible to say, but he loosened his
hold, and fell, hitting his head, and lay stretched on the ground for
more than an hour.

The sharp freshness of the air just before sunrise revived him, but his
memory did not return immediately, and he fancied his head had been cut
off and that he was in purgatory. By degrees, as his senses returned, he
realised that he was no longer in the Castle, and remembered what he had
done. He put his hands to his head and withdrew them covered with blood,
but on carefully examining himself he found he had no serious wound,
though on attempting to move he discovered that his right leg was
broken. Nothing daunted, he drew from his boot his poniard with its
sheath, which had a large ball at the end; the pressure of this ball on
the bone had caused the fracture. He threw away the sheath, and cutting
off a piece of the remaining linen band with his dagger, he bound up his
leg as best he could, and then, dagger in hand, proceeded to drag
himself along on his knees towards the gate of the town. It was still
closed, but seeing one stone near the bottom, which did not look very
huge, he tried to displace it. After repeated efforts it shook, and at
length yielded to his efforts, so, forcing it out, he squeezed himself
through.

He had barely entered Rome when he was attacked by a band of savage
dogs, who bit and worried him cruelly. He fought desperately with his
dagger, and gave one dog such a stab that it fled howling, followed by
the rest of the pack, leaving Benvenuto free to drag himself as best he
could towards St. Peter's.

By this time it was broad daylight, and there was much risk of
discovery; so, seeing a water-carrier passing with his train of asses
laden with jars full of water, Benvenuto hailed him and begged he would
carry him as far as the steps of St. Peter's.

'I am a poor fellow,' said he, 'who have broken my leg trying to get out
of the window of a house where I went to see my lady-love. As the house
belongs to a great family, I much fear I shall be cut to pieces if I am
found here; so pray help me off and you shall have a gold crown for your
pains,' and Benvenuto put his hand to his purse, which was well filled.

The water-carrier readily consented, and carried him to St. Peter's,
where he left him on the steps, from whe