An odd laugh broke from her. She made a gesture towards
Francesco.
"Fortemani, you will place the Count of Aquila under arrest," she
commanded, in a stern, steady voice, "and as you value your life you will
see that he does not elude you."
The great bully hesitated. His knowledge of Francesco's methods was not
encouraging.
"Madonna!" gasped Francesco, his bewilderment increasing.
"Did you hear me, Fortemani," she demanded. "Remove him."
"My lord?" cried Lanciotto, laying hand to his sword his eyes upon his
master's, ready to draw and lay about him at a glance of bidding.
"Sh! Let be," answered Franeesco coldly. "Here, Messer Fortemani." And
he proffered his dagger, the only weapon that he carried.
Valentina, calling Gonzaga to attend her, made shift to quit the
apartment. At that Francesco seemed to awaken to his position.
"Madonna, wait," he cried, and he stepped deliberately before her. "You
must hear me. I have surrendered in earnest of my faith and confident
that once you have heard me----"
"Captain Fortemani," she cried, almost angrily, "will you restrain your
prisoner? I wish to pass."
Ercole, with visible reluctance, laid a hand on Francesco's shoulder; but
it was unnecessary. Before her words, the Count recoiled as if he had
been struck. He stood clear of her path with a gasp at once of unbelief
and angry resignation. An instant his eyes rested on Gonzaga, so
fiercely that the faint smile withered on the courtier's lips, and his
knees trembled under him as he hastened from the room in Valentina's
wake.
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