"I do not wish to
see his face again."
A light gleamed in Gonzaga's eye, and was extinguished on the instant.
"Best make certain," he suggested, rising. "I have ordered Fortemani to
bring Lanciotto here. He will be waiting now, without. Shall I admit
them?"
She nodded without speaking, and Gonzaga opened the door, and called
Fortemani. A voice answered him from the gloom of the banqueting-hall.
"Bring Lanciotto here," he commanded.
When Francesco's servant entered, a look of surprise on his face at these
mysterious proceedings, it was Valentina who questioned him, and that in
a voice as cold as though the issue concerned her no whit.
"Tell me, sirrah," she said, "and as you value your neck, see that you
answer me truly--what is your master's name?"
Lanciotto looked from her to Gonzaga, who stood by, a cynical curl on his
sensual lips.
"Answer Monna Valentina," the courtier urged him. "State your master's
true name and station."
"But, lady," began Lanciotto, bewildered.
"Answer me!" she stormed, her small clenched hands beating the table in
harsh impatience. And Lanciotto, seeing no help for it, answered:
"Messer Francesco del Falco, Count of Aquila."
Something that began in a sob and ended in a laugh burst from the lips of
Valentina. Ercole's eyes were wide at the news, and he might have gone
the length of interposing a question, when Gonzaga curtly bade him go to
the armoury tower, and bring thence the soldier and the man Gonzaga had
left in his care.
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