he Duke had dropped from one of the windows
to the garden, his gentleman with him, and Cavalcanti had been no more
than in time to see them disappearing through the garden gate.

The Lord of Pagliano's buff-coat was covered with blood where Pier Luigi
had stabbed him. But he would give the matter no thought. He was like a
tiger now. He dashed out into the antechamber, and I heard him bellowing
orders. Someone screamed horribly, and then followed a fierce din as if
the very place were coming down about our ears.

"What is it?" cried Bianca, quivering in my arms. "Are... are they
fighting?"

"I do not think so, sweet," I answered her. "We are in great strength.
Have no fear."

And then Falcone came in again.

"The Lord of Pagliano is raging like a madman," he said. "We had best be
getting away or we shall have a brush with the Captain of Justice."

Supporting Bianca, I led her from that chamber.

"Where are we going?" she asked me.

"Home to Pagliano," I answered her, and with that answer comforted that
sorely tried maid.

We found the antechamber in wreckage. The great chandelier had been
dragged from the ceiling, pictures were slashed and cut to ribbons, the
arras had been torn from the walls and the costly furniture was reduced
to fire-wood; the double-windows opening to the balcony stood wide, and
not a pane of glass left whole, the fragments lying all about the place.

Thus, it seemed, childishly almost, had Cavalcanti vented his terrible
rage, and I could well conceive what would have befallen any of the
Duke's people upon whom in that hour he had chanced. I did not know
then that the poor pimp who had acted as our guide was hanging from the
balcony dead, nor that his had been the horrible scream I had heard.

On the stairs we met the raging Cavalcanti reascending, the stump of his
shivered sword in his hand.

"Hasten!" he cried. "I was coming for you. Let us begone!"

Below, just within the main doors we found a pile of furniture set on a
heap of straw.

"What is this?" I asked.

"You shall see," he roared. "Get to horse."

I hesitated a moment, then obeyed him, and took Bianca on the withers in
front of me, my arm about her to support her.

Then he called to one of the men-at-arms who stood by with a flaring
torch. He snatched the brand from his hand, and stabbed the straw with
it in a dozen places, from each of which there leapt at once a tongue of
flame. When, at last, he flung the torch int