My men, as you will observe, are even now
barring the door of the chapel to impose a further obstacle. Now while
they are thus engaged we must act. Briefly, then, if you will trust us
we will bear you out of this, for we four have worked through the night
to some purpose."
She looked at him through a film of tears, her face drawn and startled.
Then she put her hands to her brow in a gesture of bewildered
helplessness.
"But they will follow us," she complained.
"Not so," he answered, smiling. "For that, too, have we provided. Come,
Madonna, time presses."
A long moment she looked at him. Then brushing aside the tears that
dimmed her sight, she set a hand on either of his shoulders, and stood
so, before them all, gazing up into his calm face.
"How shall I know that what you say is true--that I may trust you?" she
asked, but her voice was not the voice of one that demands an
overwhelming proof ere she will believe.
"By my honour and my knighthood," he answered, in a ringing voice, "I
make oath here, at the foot of God's altar, that my purpose--my only
purpose--has been, is, and shall be to serve you, Monna Valentina."
"I believe you," she cried; to sob a moment later:
"Forgive me, Francesco, and may God, too, forgive my lack of faith in
you."
He softly breathed her name in such sweet accents that a happy peace
pervaded her, and the bright courage of yore shone in her brown eyes.
"Come, sirs!" he cried now, with a sudden briskness that startled them
into feverish obedience.
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