ry and where did you first know her?"

Gamba's face darkened. "You will remember, cavaliere," he said, "that
some time after your departure from Pianura I passed into the service of
the Marquess of Cerveno, then a youth of about twenty, who combined with
graceful manners and a fair exterior a nature so corrupt and cowardly
that he seemed like some such noble edifice as this, designed to house
great hopes and high ambitions, but fallen to base uses and become the
shelter of thieves and prostitutes. Prince Ferrante being sickly from
his birth, the Marquess was always looked on as the Duke's successor,
and to Trescorre, who even then, as Master of the Horse, cherished the
ambitions he has since realised, no prospect could have been more
distasteful. My noble brother, to do him justice, has always hated the
Jesuits, who, as you doubtless know, were all-powerful here before the
recent suppression of the Order. The Marquess of Cerveno was as
completely under their control as the Duke is under that of the
Dominicans, and Trescorre knew that with the Marquess's accession his
own rule must end. He did his best to gain an influence over his future
ruler, but failing in this resolved to ruin him.

"Cerveno, like all your house, was passionately addicted to the chase,
and spent much time hunting in the forest of Pontesordo. One day the
stag was brought to bay in the farm-yard of the old manor, and there
Cerveno saw Momola, then a girl of sixteen, of a singular wild beauty
which sickness and trouble have since effaced. The young Marquess was
instantly taken; and though hitherto indifferent to women, yielded so
completely to his infatuation that Trescorre, ever on the alert, saw in
it an unexpected means to his end. He instantly married Momola to
Giannozzo, whom she feared and hated; he schooled Giannozzo in the part
of the jealous and vindictive husband, and by the liberal use of money
contrived that Momola, while suffered to encourage the Marquess's
addresses, should be kept so close that Cerveno could not see her save
by coming to Pontesordo. This was the first step in the plan; the next
was to arrange that Momola should lure her lover to the hunting-lodge on
the edge of the chase. This lodge, as your excellency may remember, lies
level with the marsh, and so open to noxious exhalations that a night's
sojourn there may be fatal. The infernal scheme was carried out with the
connivance of the scoundrels at the farm, who had no scrup