head, and grunted.

"Arnaldo, there, made no mistake. He told us what he saw."

"Now Heaven help a poor, deserted maid, who set her trust in curs!" she
exclaimed, between grief and anger.

I had been no better than those hinds of hers had I remained unmoved. I
have said that I hated the very name of Sforza; but what had this tender
child to do with my wrongs that she should be brought within the compass
of that hatred? I had inferred that her pursuers were of the House of
Borgia, and in a flash it came to me that were I so inclined I might
prove, by virtue of the ring I carried, the one man in Italy to serve
her in this extremity. And to be of service to her, her winsome beauty
had already inflamed me. For there was I know not what about this child
that seemed to take me in its toils, and so wrought upon me that there
and then I would have risked my life in her good service. Oh, you may
laugh who read. Indeed, deep down in my heart I laughed myself, I
think, at the heroics to which I was yielding--I, the Fool, most base of
lacqueys--over a damsel of the noble House of Santafior. It was shame of
my motley, maybe, that caused me to draw my cloak more tightly about me
as I urged forward my horse, until I had come into their midst.

"Lady," said I bluntly and without preamble, "can I assist you? I have
inferred your case from what I have overheard."

All eyes were on me, gaping with surprise--hers no less than her
grooms'.

"What can you do alone, sir?" she asked, her gentle glance upraised to
mine.

"If, as I gather, your pursuers are servants of the House of Borgia, I
may do something."

"They are," she answered, without hesitation, some eagerness, even,
investing her tones.

It may seem an odd thing that this lady should so readily have taken a
stranger into her confidence. Yet reflect upon the parlous condition in
which she found herself. Deserted by her dispirited grooms, her enemies
hot upon her heels, she was in no case to trifle with assistance, or
to despise an offer of services, however frail it might seem. With both
hands she clutched at the slender hope I brought her in the hour of her
despair.

"Sir," she cried, "if indeed it lies in your power to help me, you could
not find it in your heart to be sparing of that power did you but know
the details of my sorry circumstance."

"That power, Madonna, it may be that I have," said I, and at those words
of mine her servants seemed to honour me with a gre