ent that I would not talk lest he should
destroy me at my first word. And yet, there was more than that in his
motive for choosing me to go with him in that hour, as I was to learn
once we were closeted in his chamber.

"Boccadoro," he cried, "can you not find me some way out of this?" Under
his beard I saw the quiver of his lips as he put the question.

"Out of this?" I echoed, scarce understanding him at first.

"Aye, man--out of this Castle, out of Pesaro. Bestir those wits of
yours. Is there no way in which it might be done, no disguise under
which I might escape?"

"Escape?" quoth I, looking at him, and endeavouring to keep from my
eyes the contempt that was in my heart. Dear God! Had revenge been all I
sought of him, how I might have gloated over his miserable downfall!

"Do not stand there staring with those hollow eyes," he cried, anger
and fear blending horridly in his voice and rendering shrill its pitch.
"Find me a way. Come, knave, find me a way, or I'll have you broken on
the wheel. Set your wits to save that long, lean body from destruction.
Think, I bid you."

He was moving restlessly as he spoke, swayed by the agitation of terror
that possessed him like a devil. I looked at him now without dissembling
my scorn. Even in such an hour as this the habit of hectoring cruelty
remained him.

"What shall it avail me to think?" I asked him in a voice that was as
cold and steady as his was hot and quavering. "Were you a bird I might
suggest flight across the sea to you. But you are a man, a very human, a
very mortal man, although your father made you Lord of Pesaro."

Even as I was speaking, the thunder of the besiegers reached our
ears--such a dull roar it was as that of a stormy sea in winter time.
Maddened by his terror he stood over me now, his eyes flashing wildly in
his white face.

"Another word in such a tone," he rasped, his fingers on his dagger,
"and I'll make an end of you. I need your help, animal!"

I shook my head, my glance meeting his without fear. I was of twice his
strength, we were alone, and the hour was one that levelled ranks. Had
he made the least attempt to carry out his threat, had he but drawn an
inch of the steel he fingered, I think I should have slain him with my
hands without fear or thought of consequences.

"I have no help for you such as you need," I answered him. "I am but the
Fool of Pesaro. Whoever looked to a Fool for miracles?"

"But here is death," he almost mo