idding, he turned to me and ordered the executioner beside me
to unbind my hands and set me at liberty.

"I owe you a heavy debt, Messer Biancomonte," he said, without any
warmth, even now that his voice was laden with a message of gratitude.
"It shall be discharged. It is thanks to your daring and resource that
the seneschal Mariani was able to bring me this letter, this piece of
culminating proof against Ramiro del' Orca. It is fortunate for you that
Mariani was not put to it to ride to Faenza to find me, or else I am
afraid we had not reached Cesena in time to save your life. I met him
some leagues this side of Faenza, as I was on my way to Sinigaglia."

He turned abruptly to Ramiro.

"In this letter which Vitelli wrote you," said he, "it is suggested that
there are others in the conspiracy. Tell me now, who are those others?
See that you answer me with truth, for I shall compel proofs from you of
such accusations as you may make."

Ramiro looked at him with eyes rendered dull by agony. He moistened his
lips with his tongue, and turning his head towards his men--

"Wine," he gasped, from very force of habit. "A cup of wine!"

"Let it be supplied him," said Cesare coldly, and we all stood waiting
while a servant filled him a cup. Ramiro gulped the wine avidly, never
pausing until the goblet was empty.

"Now," said Cesare, who had been watching him, "will it please you to
answer my question?"

"My lord," said Ramiro, revived and strengthened in spirit by the
draught, "I must ask your Excellency to be a little plainer with me.
To what conspiracy is it that you refer? I know of none. What is this
letter which you say Vitelli wrote me? I take it you refer to the Lord
of Citta di Castello. But I can recall no letters passing between us. My
acquaintance with him is of the slightest."

Cesare looked at him a second.

"Approach," he curtly bade him, and Ramiro came forward, one of the
Borgia halberdiers on either side of him, each holding him by an arm.
The Duke thrust the letter under his eyes. "Have you never seen that
before?"

Ramiro looked at it a moment, and his attempt at dissembling
bewilderment was a ludicrous thing to witness.

"Never," he said brazenly at last.

Cesare folded the letter and slipped it into the breast of his doublet.
From his girdle he took a second paper. He turned from Ramiro.

"Don Miguel," he called.

From behind his men-at-arms a tall man, all dressed in black, stood
forward.