That sudden, unexpected order struck dumb the vociferous Fortemani. He
ceased, and gaped at his men, who eyed one another now in doubt; but the
doubt was quickly dispelled by the lady's own words:
"You will make him prisoner, and conduct him to the guardroom, or I will
have you and him swept out of my castle," she informed them, as
confidently as though she had a hundred men-at-arms to do her bidding on
them.
A pace or so behind her stood the lily-cheeked Gonzaga, gnawing his lip,
timid and conjecturing. Behind him again loomed the stalwart height of
Francesco del Falco with, at his side, Lanciotto, of mien almost as
resolute as his own.
That was the full force with which the lady spoke of sweeping them--as if
they had been so much foulness--from Roccaleone, unless they did her
bidding. They were still hesitating, when the Count advanced to
Valentina's side.
"You have heard the choice our lady gives you," he said sternly. "Let us
know whether you will obey or disobey. This choice that is yours now,
may not be yours again. But if you elect to disobey Madonna, the gate is
behind you, the bridge still down. Get you gone!"
Furtively, from under lowering brows, Gonzaga darted a look of impotent
malice at the Count. Whatever issue had the affair, this man must not
remain in Roccaleone. He was too strong, too dominant, and he would
render himself master of the place by no other title than that strength
of his and that manner of command which Gonzaga accounted a coarse,
swashbuckling bully's gift, but would have given much to be possessed of.
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