tend him at the Vatican at his morning
levee. Presently, too, a man in Cesare's livery brought me the basket
of fruit and the rope-ladder which I had sent to Caterina.

"My master bade me return this to you," said the lackey, "as you may
find it useful for your own needs in future."

I understood the cold sarcasm of the message. I was to be imprisoned,
and I did not flatter myself that any opportunity for use of a
rope-ladder would be left me. But in that supreme moment it was not my
own doom that I thought upon but that of the unfortunate Lady of Forli.

As I prepared to obey the papal summons my landlady brought me a letter
which had arrived during my absence, the long-expected instructions from
Cardinal d'Amboise. They called me and my troop to Milan--the Pope would
not dare controvert that command; and as my eye sought eagerly for an
answer to my appeal for Caterina it caught at the bottom of the page
this line:

"As for Caterina Sforza Riario de' Medici and her children----"

Trembling with excitement I turned the leaf but my hopes died within me
as I read on:

"----that belligerent and unwomanly woman hath but received her
just deserts. We are to be congratulated that her fortresses and
her army fell into the power of our ally before it was possible for
her to aid her uncle Lodovico Sforza, usurper of Milan, at present
our prisoner.

"Our fortunes are now so assured either by conquest or alliance
that all the leading families of northern Italy are on our side.
Even the Medici are with us. Sooner or later"----

Here I turned a page again.

"They must be returned to Florence, as the King desires the good
will of the Medici."

There was more to the effect that the Cardinal desired me to kiss for
him the hands of his Holiness, and to assure both him and Cesare
that--if their promise to the King of France were carried out--they
would ever find in the French army a sure defence. But all this seemed
of little moment to me since the letter contained no hope for Caterina.
I thrust it in my pouch and pursued my way to the Vatican, cudgelling my
brains for some other means by which to save her.

Was there, I questioned, no motive within the complicated mechanism of
Cesare's mind upon which I could play? Was there nothing which he held
sacred, no terror in earth or hell which could daunt his inexorable
will?

Then suddenly I remembered the flaw in his armou