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Sabatini, Rafael, 1875-1950

"Love-at-Arms"

I would I
knew!"
She rose, and coming close to him, she stood with one hand resting upon
his shoulder, her eyes smiling down upon his upturned face.
"And shall such a trifle fret you--you who professed a week ago that you
would this siege might last for ever?"
"Account me not fickle, anima mia," he answered her, and he kissed the
ivory fingers that rested on his shoulder. "For that was before the
world changed for me at the magic of your bidding. And so," he repeated,
"I would I knew what is toward at Babbiano!"
"But why sigh over a wish so idle?" she exclaimed. "By what means can
news reach you here of the happenings of the world without?"
He pondered a moment, seeking words in which to answer her. A score of
times during that week had he been on the point of disclosing himself, of
telling her who and what he was. Yet ever had he hesitated, putting off
that disclosure until the season should appear more fitting. This he now
considered the present. She trusted him, and there was no reason to
remain silent longer. Perhaps already he had delayed too long, and so he
was about to speak when she started from his side, and crossed hastily to
the window, alarmed by the sound of approaching steps. A second later
the door opened, and Gonzaga appeared.
A moment he hesitated in the doorway, looking from one to the other, and
Francesco, lazily regarding him in his turn, noted that his cheeks were
pale and that his eyes glittered like those of a man with the fever.


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