ed his fore-arm.

"What will you do?" she questioned, in a whisper, her eyes dilating with
alarm.

"Stem the treachery of that rabble," he answered shortly. "Stay you
here, Madonna. Fortemani and I will pacify them--or make an end of
them." And so grimly did he say it that Gonzaga believed it to lie
within his power.

"But you are mad!" she cried, and the fear in her eyes increased. "What
can you do against twenty?"

"What God pleases," he answered, and for a second put the ferocity from
his heart that he might smile reassurance.

"But you will be killed," she cried. "Oh! don't go, don't go! Let them
have their way, Messer Francesco. Let Gian Maria invest the castle. I
care not, so that you do not go."

Her voice, and the tale it told of sweet anxiety for his fate overruling
everything else in that moment--even her horror of Gian Maria--quickened
his blood to the pace of ecstasy. He was taken by a wild longing to
catch her in his arms--this lady hitherto so brave and daunted now by
the fear of his peril only. Every fibre of his being urged him to gather
her to his breast, whilst he poured courage and comfort into her ear. He
fainted almost with desire to kiss those tender eyes, upturned to his
in her piteous pleading that he should not endanger his own life. But
suppressing all, he only smiled, though very tenderly.

"Be brave, Madonna, and trust in me a little. Have I failed you yet?
Need you then fear that I shall fail you now?"

At that she seemed to gather courage. The words reawakened her
confidence in his splendid strength.

"We shall laugh over this when we break our fast," he cried. "Come,
Ercole!" And without waiting for more, he leapt down the steps with an
agility surprising in one so heavily armed as he.

They were no more than in time. As they gained the courtyard the
men came sweeping along towards the gates, their voices raucous and
threatening. They were full of assurance. All hell they thought could
not have hindered them, and yet at sight of that tall figure, bright
as an angel, in his panoply of glittering steel, with that great sword
poised on his left shoulder, some of the impetuousness seemed to fall
from them.

Still they advanced, Cappoccio's voice shouting encouragement. Almost
were they within range of that lengthy sword, when of a sudden it
flashed from his shoulder, and swept a half-circle of dazzling light
before their eyes. Round his head it went, and back again before them,