ses. If
so be that he intends in truth to bombard us, let him begin forthwith.
We are ready for him, as you perceive. Maybe he did not suppose us
equipped with cannon; but there they stand. Those guns are trained upon
his camp, and the first shot he fires upon us shall be a signal for
such a reply as he little dreams of. Tell him, too, that we expect no
quarter, and will yield none. We are unwilling for bloodshed, but if he
drives us to it and executes his purpose of employing cannon, then the
consequences be upon his own head. Bear him that answer, and tell him to
send you no more with empty threats."

The herald bowed upon the withers of his horse. The arrogance, the cold
imperiousness of the message struck him dumb with amazement. Amazement
was his, too, that Roccaleone should be armed with cannon, as with his
own eyes he saw. That those guns were empty he could not guess, nor
could Gian Maria when he heard a message that filled him with rage, and
would have filled him with dismay, but that he counted upon the mutiny
which Gonzaga had pledged himself to stir up.

As the herald was riding away a gruff laugh broke from Fortemani, who
stood behind the Count.

Valentina turned to Francesco with eyes that beamed admiration and a
singular tenderness.

"Oh, what had I done without you, Messer Francesco?" she cried, for
surely the twentieth time since his coming. "I tremble to think how
things had gone without your wit and valour to assist me." She never
noticed the malicious smile that trembled on Gonzaga's pretty face.
"Where did you find the powder?" she asked innocently, for her mind had
not yet caught that humour of the situation that had drawn a laugh from
Fortemani.

"I found none," answered Francesco, smiling from the shadow of his helm.
"My threats"--and he waved his hand in the direction of that formidable
array of guns--"are as empty as Gian Maria's. Yet I think they will
impress him more than his do us. I will answer for it, Madonna, that
they deter him from bombarding us--if so be that he ever intended to. So
let us go and break our fast with a glad courage."

"Those guns are empty?" she gasped. "And you could talk so boldly and
threaten so defiantly!"

Mirth crept now into her face, and thrust back the alarm, a little of
which had peeped from her eyes even as she was extolling Francesco.

"There!" he cried joyously. "You are smiling now, Madonna. Nor have
you cause for aught else. Shall we descend? Th