ender him more
steadfast in his vengeful purpose, it, nevertheless, made him smile the
more sweetly and fawn the more obsequiously.

And not content with this, he did not limit his sycophancy to Valentina,
but sought also by a smiling persistence to ingratiate himself
with Francesco. No voice in Roccaleone--not even that of the bully
Ercole--was raised more often or more enthusiastically to praise and
glorify their Provost. Valentina, observing this, and accepting it as
another sign of his contrition for the past and purpose of amendment
for the future, grew yet more cordial towards him. He was not lacking in
astuteness, this pretty Ser Romeo, nor in knowledge of a woman's heart,
and the apprehension of the fact that there is no flattery she prefers
to that which has for object the man she loves.

Thus did Gonzaga conquer the confidence and esteem of all during that
peaceful week. He seemed a changed man, and all save Peppe saw in this
change a matter for increased trust and friendship towards him. But the
astute fool looked on and pondered. Such transformations as these were
not effected in a night. He was no believer in any human chrysalis that
shall make of the grub of yesterday the butterfly of to-day. And so, in
this fawning, smiling, subservient Gonzaga, he saw nothing but an object
of mistrust, a fellow to be watched with the utmost vigilance. To this
vigilance the hunchback applied himself with a zeal born of his cordial
detestation of the courtier. But Gonzaga, aware of the fool's mistrust
and watchfulness, contrived for once to elude him, and to get a letter
to Gian Maria setting forth the ingenious plan he had hatched.

The notion had come to him that Sunday at Mass. On all sanctified days
it was Monna Valentina's way to insist that the entire garrison, with
the exception of one single sentinel--and this only at Francesco's very
earnest urging--should attend the morning service. Like an inspiration
it came to him that such a half-hour as that would be a most opportune
season in which to throw open the gates of Roccaleone to the besiegers.
The following Wednesday was the feast of Corpus Christi. Then would be
his opportunity.

Kneeling there, with head bent in ecstatic devotion, he matured his
treacherous plan. The single sentry he could suborn, or else--if bribery
failed--poniard. He realised that single-handed he might not lower the
cumbrous drawbridge, nor would it be wise, even if possible, for the
noi