spirit were inclined to become the servant of my will and
hold my battered flesh alive until we got that far, Pesaro's gates I had
the joy of entering ere I was constrained to give way.

Dimly I remember--for very dim were my perceptions growing--that as we
crossed the bridge and passed beneath the archway of the Porta Romana,
the officer turned out to see who came. At sight of me be gaped a moment
in astonishment.

"Boccadoro?" he exclaimed, at last. "So soon returned?"

"Like Perseus from the rescue of Andromeda," answered I, in a feeble
voice, "saving that Perseus was less bloody than am I. Behold the
Madonna Paola Sforza di Santafior, the noble cousin of our High and
Mighty Lord."

And then as if my task being done, I were free to set my weary brain
to rest, my senses grew confused, the officer's voice became a hum that
gradually waxed fainter as I sank into what seemed the most luxurious
and delicious sleep that ever mortal knew.

Two days later, when I was conscious once more, I learned what
excitement those words of mine had sown, with what honours Madonna Paola
was escorted to the Castle, and how the citizens of Pesaro turned out
upon hearing the news which ran like fire before us. And Madonna, it
seems, had loudly proclaimed how gallantly I had served her, for as they
bore me along in a cloak carried by four men-at-arms, the cry that was
heard in the streets of Pesaro that morning was "Boccadoro!" They
had loved me, had those good citizens of Pesaro, and the news of my
departure had cast a gloom upon the town. To have their hero return in
a manner so truly heroic provoked that brave display of their affection,
and I deeply doubt if ever in the days of greatest loyalty the name of
Sforza was as loudly cried in Pesaro as, they tell me, was the name of
Sforza's Fool that day.

CHAPTER VII. THE SUMMONS FROM ROME

If Madonna Paola did not achieve quite all that she had promised me so
readily, yet she achieved more than from my acquaintance with the nature
of Giovanni Sforza--and my knowledge of the deep malice he entertained
for me--I should have dared to hope.

The Tyrant of Pesaro, as I was soon to learn, was greatly taken with
this fair cousin of his, whom that morning he had beheld for the first
time. And being taken with her, it may be that Giovanni listened the
more readily to her intercessions on my poor behalf. Since it was she
who begged this thing, he could not wholly refuse. But since he