de their stealthy way to the loggia on the third floor, a long
colonnaded gallery above the Abbot's garden. They paused a moment before
the Queen's door which opened upon this gallery, then crept on to that
of the King's room at the other end. It was Pace who rapped sharply
on the panels thrice before he was answered by a sleepy growl from the
other side.

"It is I--Pace--my lord," he announced. "A courier has arrived from
Naples, from Friar Robert, with instant messages."

From within there was a noisy yawn, a rustle, the sound of an
overturning stool, and, lastly, the rasp of a bolt being withdrawn. The
door opened, and in the faint light of the dawning day Andreas appeared,
drawing a furlined robe about his body, which was naked of all but a
shirt.

He saw no one but Pace. The others had drawn aside into the shadows.
Unsuspecting, he stepped forth.

"Where is this messenger?"

The door through which he had come slammed suddenly behind him, and he
turned to see Melazzo in the act of bolting it with a dagger to prevent
any one from following that way--for the room had another door opening
upon the inner corridor.

Instead, Melazzo might have employed his dagger to stab Andreas behind,
and so have made an instant end. But it happened to be known that
Andreas wore an amulet--a ring that his mother had given him--which
rendered him invulnerable to steel or poison. And such was the credulity
of his age, such the blind faith of those men in the miraculous power
of that charm, that none of them so much as attempted to test it with a
dagger. It was for the same reason that no recourse was had to the still
easier method of disposing of him by poison. Accepting the amulet at
its legendary value, the conspirators had resolved that he must be
strangled.

As he turned now they leapt upon him, and, taking him unawares, bore
him to the ground before he could realize what was happening. Here they
grappled with him, and he with them. He was endowed with the strength of
a young bull, and he made full use of it. He rose, beating them off, to
be borne down again, bellowing the while for help. He smote out blindly,
and stretched Morcone half senseless with a blow of his great fist.

Seeing how difficult he proved to strangle, they must have cursed that
amulet of his. He struggled to his knees again, then to his feet, and,
at last, with bleeding face, leaving tufts of his fair hair in their
murderous hands, he broke through and w