t. With his foot in the stirrup he made the cord taut and set
the shaft in position.

And now he closed the door, and, going to the window, which was little
more than an arrow-slit, he shouldered his arbalest. He took careful aim
in the direction of the ducal tent, and loosed the quarrel. He watched
its light, and it almost thrilled him with pride in his archery to see
it strike the tent at which he had aimed, and set the canvas shuddering.

In a moment there was a commotion. Men ran to the spot, others emerged
from the tent, and amongst the latter Gonzaga recognised the figures of
Gian Maria and Guidobaldo.

The bolt was delivered to the Duke of Babbiano, who, with an upward
glance at the ramparts, vanished into the tent once more.

Gonzaga moved from his eerie, and set wide the door of the tower,
so that his eyes could range the whole of the sun-bathed ramparts.
Returning to his window, he waited impatiently for the answer. Nor was
his impatience to endure long. At the end of some ten minutes Gian
Maria reappeared, and, summoning an archer to his side, he delivered
him something and made a motion of his hand towards Roccaleone. Gonzaga
moved to the door, and stood listening breathlessly. At the least sign
of an approach, he would have shown himself, and thus, by the provision
made in his letter have cautioned the archer against shooting his bolt.
But all was quiet, and so Gonzaga remained where he was until something
flashed like a bird across his vision, struck sharply against the
posterior wall, and fell with a tinkle on the broad stones of the
rampart. A moment later the answer from Gian Maria was in his hands.

He swiftly unwound it from the shaft that had brought it, and dropped
the bolt into a corner. Then unfolding the letter, he read it, leaning
against one of the merlons of the wall.

"If you can devise a means to deliver Roccaleone at once into my
hands you shall earn my gratitude, full pardon for your share in Monna
Valentina's rebellion, and the sum of a thousand gold florins.

"GIAN MARIA."

As he read, a light of joy leapt to his eyes. Gian Maria's terms were
very generous. He would accept them, and Valentina should realise when
too late upon what manner of broken reed she leaned in relying upon
Messer Francesco. Would he save her now, as he so loudly boasted? Would
there indeed be no mutiny, as he so confidently prophesied? Gonzaga
chuckled evilly to himself. She should learn her lesson, and w