"Again, Lanciotto."
The man obeyed him, and again and again his deep voice rang out like a
trumpet-call before sign was made from within that it had been heard. At
length, above the parapet of the tower appeared a stunted figure with
head unkempt, as grotesque almost as any of the gargoyles beneath, and an
owlish face peered at them from one of the crenels of the battlement, and
demanded, in surly, croaking tones their business. Instantly the Count
recognised Peppe.
"Good morrow, fool," he bade him.
"You, my lord?" exclaimed the jester.
"You sleep soundly at Roccaleone," quoth Francesco. "Bestir that knavish
garrison of yours, and bid the lazy dogs let down the bridge. I have
news for Monna Valentina."
"At once, Excellency," the fool replied, and would have gone upon the
instant but that Francesco recalled him.
"Say, Peppe, a knight--the knight she met at Acquasparta, if you will.
But leave my name unspoken."
With the assurance that he would obey his wishes Peppe went his errand.
A slight delay ensued, and then upon the battlements appeared Gonzaga,
sleepy and contentious, attended by a couple of Fortemani's knaves, who
came to ask the nature of Francesco's business.
"It is with Monna Valentina," answered him Francesco, raising head and
voice, so that Gonzaga recognised him for the wounded knight of
Acquasparta, remembered and scowled.
"I am Monna Valentina's captain here," he announced, with arrogance.
"And you may deliver to me such messages as you bear.
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