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goyles, flooding the crenellated battlements and
turning green the ivy and lichen that but a moment back had blackened
the stout, projecting buttresses. Thence it leapt to the ground, and
drove the shadow before it down the grassy slope, until it reached
the stream and sparkled on its foaming, tumbling waters, scattering a
hundred colours through the flying spray.

And all that time, until the sun had reached him and included him in the
picture it was awakening, the Count of Aquila sat in his saddle, with
thoughtful eyes uplifted to the fortress.

Then, Lanciotto following him, he walked his horse round the western
side, where the torrent was replaced by a smooth arm of water, for
which a cutting had been made to complete the isolation of the crag of
Roccaleone. But here, where the castle might more easily have become
vulnerable, a blank wall greeted him, broken by no more than a narrow
slit or two midway below the battlements. He rode on towards the
northern side, crossing a footbridge that spanned the river, and at
last coming to a halt before the entrance tower. Here again the moat was
formed by the torrential waters of the mountain stream.

He bade his servant rouse the inmates, and Lanciotto hallooed in a voice
that nature had made deep and powerful. The echo of it went booming up
to scare the birds on the hillside, but evoked no answer from the silent
castle.

"They keep a zealous watch," laughed the Count. "Again, Lanciotto."

The man obeyed him, and again and again his deep voice rang out like a
trumpet-call before sign was made from within that it had been heard.
At length, above the parapet of the tower appeared a stunted figure with
head unkempt, as grotesque almost as any of the gargoyles beneath, and
an owlish face peered at them from one of the crenels of the battlement,
and demanded, in surly, croaking tones their business. Instantly the
Count recognised Peppe.

"Good morrow, fool," he bade him.

"You, my lord?" exclaimed the jester.

"You sleep soundly at Roccaleone," quoth Francesco. "Bestir that knavish
garrison of yours, and bid the lazy dogs let down the bridge. I have
news for Monna Valentina."

"At once, Excellency," the fool replied, and would have gone upon the
instant but that Francesco recalled him.

"Say, Peppe, a knight--the knight she met at Acquasparta, if you will.
But leave my name unspoken."

With the assurance that he would obey his wishes Peppe went his errand.
A slight delay ensued, and then upon the battlements appeared Gonzaga,
sleepy and contentious, attended by a couple of Fortemani's knaves, who
came to ask the nature of Francesco's business.

"It is with Monna Valentina," answered him Francesco, raising head
and voice, so that Gonzaga recognised him for the wounded knight of
Acquasparta, remembered and scowled.

"I am Monna Valentina's captain here," he announced, with arrogance.
"And you may deliver to me such messages as you bear."

There followed a contention, conducted ill-humouredly on the part of
Gonzaga and scarcely less so on the Count's, Francesco stoutly refusing
to communicate his business to any but Valentina, and Gonzaga as stoutly
refusing to disturb the lady at that hour, or to lower the bridge. Words
flew between them across the waters of the moat, and grew hotter at each
fresh exchange, till in the end they were abruptly terminated by the
appearance of Valentina herself, attended by Peppino.

"What is this, Gonzaga?" she inquired, her manner excited, for the fool
had told her that it was the knight Francesco who sought admittance,
and at the very mention of the name she had flushed, then paled, then
started for the ramparts. "Why is this knight denied admittance since
he bears a message for me?" And from where she stood she sought
with admiring eyes the graceful shape of the Count of Aquila--the
knight-errant of her dreams. Francesco bared his head, and bent to
the withers of his horse in courteous greeting. She turned to Gonzaga
impatiently.

"For what do you wait?" she cried. "Have you not understood my wishes?
Let the bridge be lowered."

"Bethink you, Madonna," he remonstrated. "You do not know this man. He
may be a spy of Gian Maria's--a hireling paid to betray us."

"You fool," she answered sharply. "Do you not see that it is the wounded
knight we met that day you were escorting me to Urbino?"

"What shall that signify?" demanded he. "Is it proof of his honesty of
purpose or loyalty to you? Be advised, Madonna, and let him deliver his
message from where he is. He is safer there."

She measured him with a determined eye.

"Messer Gonzaga, order them to lower the bridge," she bade him.

"But, lady, bethink you of your peril."

"Peril?" she echoed. "Peril from two men, and we a garrison of over
twenty? Surely the man is a coward who talks so readily of perils. Have
the drawbridge lowered."

"But if----" he began, with a desperate vehemence, when again she cut
him short.

"Am I to be obeyed? Am I mistress, and will you bid them lower the
bridge, or must I, myself, go see to it?"

With a look of despairing anger and a shrug of the shoulders he turned
from her, and despatched one of his men with an order. A few moments
later, with a creaking of hinges and a clanking of chains, the great
bridge swung down and dropped with a thud to span the gulf. Instantly
the Count spurred his horse forward, and followed by Lanciotto rode
across the plank and under the archway of the entrance tower into the
first courtyard.

Now, scarcely had he drawn rein there when through a door at the far end
appeared the gigantic figure of Fortemani, half-clad and sword in hand.
At sight of Francesco the fellow leaped down a half-dozen steps, and
advanced towards him with a burst of oaths.

"To me!" he shouted, in a voice that might have waked the dead. "Olá!
Olá! What devil's work is this? How come you here? By whose orders was
the bridge let down?"

"By the orders of Monna Valentina's captain," answered Francesco,
wondering what madman might be this.

"Captain?" cried the other, coming to a standstill and his face turning
purple. "Body of Satan! What captain? I am captain here."

The Count looked him over in surprise.

"Why, then," said he, "you are the very man I seek. I congratulate you
on the watch you keep, Messer Capitano. Your castle is so excellently
patrolled that had I been minded for a climb I had scaled your walls and
got within your gates without arousing any of your slumbering sentries."

Fortemani eyed him with a lowering glance. The prosperity of the past
four days had increased the insolence inherent in the man.

"Is that your affair?" he growled menacingly. "You are over-bold, sir
stranger, to seek a quarrel with me, and over-pert to tell me how I
shall discharge my captaincy. By the Passion! You shall be punished."

"Punished--I?" echoed Francesco, on whose brow there now descended a
scowl as black as Ercole's own.

"Aye, punished, young sir. Ercole Fortemani is my name."

"I have heard of you," answered the Count co

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