ll me, sir, what did you at Acquasparta
on the morning of the Wednesday before Easter?"

The Count's impassive face remained inscrutable, a mask of patient
wonder. By the sudden clenching of his hands alone did he betray how
that thrust had smitten him, and his hands none there remarked. Fabrizio
da Lodi, standing behind the Duke, went pale to the lips.

"I do not recall that I did anything there of much account," he
answered. "I breathed the good spring air in the woods."

"And nothing else?" sneered Gian Maria.

"I can bethink me of little else that signifies. I met a lady there with
whom I had some talk, a friar, a fool, a popinjay, and some soldiers.
But,"--he shifted abruptly, his tone growing haughty--"whatever I did,
I did as best seemed to me, and I have yet to learn that the Count of
Aquila must give account of what he does and where he does it. You
have not told me yet, sir, by what right, or fancied right, you hold me
prisoner."

"Have I not, indeed? See you no link between your offence and your
presence near Sant' Angelo on that day?"

"If I am to apprehend that you have had me brought here with this
indignity to set me riddles for your amusement, I am enlightened and yet
amazed. I am no court buffoon."

"Words, words," snapped the Duke. "Do not think to beguile me with
them." With a short laugh he turned from Francesco to those upon the
dais. "You will be marvelling, sirs, and you, my lady mother, upon what
grounds I have had this traitor seized. You shall learn. On the night of
the Tuesday before Easter seven traitors met at Sant' Angelo to plot
my overthrow. Of those, the heads of four may be seen on the walls
of Babbiano now; the other three made off, but there stands one of
them--the one that was to have occupied this throne after they had
unseated me."

The eyes of all were now upon the young Count, whilst his own glance
strayed to the face of Lodi, on which there was written a consternation
so great that it must have betrayed him had the Duke but chanced to look
his way. A pause ensued which none present dared to break. Gian
Maria seemed to await an answer from Francesco; but Francesco stood
impassively regarding him, and made no sign that he would speak. At
length, unable longer to endure the silence:

"E dunque?" cried the Duke. "Have you no answer?"

"I would submit," returned Francesco, "that I have heard no question.
I heard a wild statement, extravagant and mad, the accusation of one