g with fiendish glee, roared out, "See, Michaele, my brother,
the wretch is dead!"

Raising the body of the still breathing Duke, his murderers threw it
upon the bed and covered it with the sheets. Then Lorenzino opened a
window and looked out upon the Via Larga, to see if anybody was about.
Not a soul was there. It was early morning, and by the new light of day
he tore off a piece of paper and scribbled upon it, with Alessandro's
blood, "_Vincit amor patriae laudumque immensa cupido_," and pinned it
over Alessandro's heart!

Both he and Michaele washed their hands and their swords--their clothes
they could not cleanse--and Lorenzino, having filled his pouch with the
money and jewels he possessed, they picked up their cloaks and hats,
and, locking the door behind them, departed. In the basement they
encountered Fiaccio, Lorenzino's faithful body-servant, groom and valet
combined, and he was bidden to follow his master.

The three made their way with haste to the residence of Bishop Angelo
Marzi, the chief custodian of the City Gates, of whom Lorenzino demanded
post-horses, showing to the servant Alessandro's signet-ring, which he
had pulled off his victim's finger. The Bishop made no demur, being well
accustomed to the erratic ways of the cousins. They took the road to
Bologna, where Lorenzino had the two broken fingers removed, and his
hand dressed, and then on they posted without further halt.

Lorenzino made at once for the house of Filippo negli Strozzi, the
leader of the exiled Florentines in that city, and rousing him from his
slumbers, embraced him with emotion, and said: "See, this is the key of
the chamber where lies the body of Alessandro. I have slain him. Look at
my clothes, this blood is his, no more shall Florence suffer at his
hands. Revenge is sweet, but freedom is sweeter!"

Filippo could scarcely believe the glad tidings, and surveyed his
visitor from head to foot. Lorenzino, noting his hesitation, called
Michaele into the room crying, "Here is Scoronconcolo the Assassin, and
I am Lorenzaccio the Terrible!"

"Thou art our Brutus, my Lord Lorenzino!" exclaimed Filippo, with tears
running down his cheeks. "Tarry awhile, till I can summon our chief
allies, and rest yourselves. Bravo! Bravissimo!"

Next day alarm spread through the Medici Palace when the Duke failed to
make his appearance, especially as at noon he had summoned a meeting of
his new Grand Council of Two Hundred. No one knew where he h