not much, after all. Peppe had seen Messer Gonzaga
repair to the armoury tower. Through an arrow-slit he had watched him
take down and examine an arbalest, place it on the table and sit down to
write.

"Well?" demanded Ercole. "What else?"

"Naught else. That is all," answered the hunchback.

"Heaven and hell!" roared the swashbuckler, coming to a standstill and
glowering down upon his impatient companion. "And you have made me run
for this?"

"And is it not enough?" retorted Peppe testily. "Will you come on?"

"Not a foot farther," returned the captain, getting very angry. "Is this
a miserable jest? What of the treachery you spoke of?"

"A letter and an arbalest!" panted the maddened Peppe, grimacing
horribly at this delay. "God, was there ever such a fool! Does this mean
nothing to that thick, empty thing you call a head? Have you forgotten
how Gian Maria's offer of a thousand florins came to Roccaleone? On an
arbalest quarrel, stupid! Come on, I say, and afterwards you shall have
my motley--the only livery you have a right to wear."

In the shock of enlightenment Ercole forgot to cuff the jester for his
insolence, and allowed himself once more to be hurried along, across the
outer court and up the steps that led to the battlements.

"You think----" he began.

"I think you had best tread more softly," snapped the fool, under his
breath, "and control that thunderous wheeze, if you would surprise Ser
Romeo."

Ercole accepted the hint, meek as a lamb, and leaving the fool behind
him on the steps, he went softly up, and approached the armoury tower.
Peering cautiously through the arrow-slit, and favoured by the fact that
Gonzaga's back was towards him, he saw that he was no more than in time.

The courtier was bending down, and by the creaking sound that reached
him Ercole guessed his occupation to be the winding of the arbalest
string. On the table at his side lay a quarrel swathed in a sheet of
paper.

Swiftly and silently Ercole moved round the tower, and the next instant
he had pushed open the unfastened door and entered.

A scream of terror greeted him, and a very startled face was turned upon
him by Gonzaga, who instantly sprang upright. Then, seeing who it was,
the courtier's face reassumed some of its normal composure, but his
glance was uneasy and his cheek pale.

"Sant Iddio!" he gasped. "You startled me, Ercole. I did not hear you
coming."

And now something in the bully's face heightened th