here was their cousin, Giovanni Borgia, Cardinal of
Monreale, portly and scarlet, at Madonna's side.

All turned to glance at this masked intruder who had the power so oddly
to excite their beloved Gandia.

"From the lady of the rose," Giovanni announced himself softly to the
Duke.

"Yes, yes," came the answer, feverishly impatient. "Well, what is your
message?"

"To-night her father is from home. She will expect your magnificence at
midnight."

Gandia drew a deep breath.

"By the Host! You are no more than in time. I had almost despaired,
my friend, my best of friends. To-night!" He pronounced the word
ecstatically. "Wait you here. Yourself you shall conduct me. Meanwhile,
go sup."

And beating his hands, he summoned attendants.

Came the steward and a couple of Moorish slaves in green turbans, to
whose care the Duke commanded his masked visitor. But Giovanni neither
required nor desired their ministrations; he would not eat nor drink,
but contented himself with the patience of hatred to sit for two long
hours awaiting the pleasure of his foolish victim.

They left at last, a little before midnight the Duke, his brother
Cesare, his cousin Monreale, and a numerous attendance, his own retinue
and those of the two cardinals. Thus they rode back to Rome, the Borgias
very gay, the man in the mask plodding along beside them.

They came to the Rione de Ponte, where their ways were to separate, and
there, opposite the palace of the Cardinal Vice-Chancellor, Gandia drew
rein. He announced to the others that he went no farther with them,
summoned a single groom to attend him, and bade the remainder return to
the Vatican and await him there.

There was a last jest and a laugh from Cesare as the cavalcade went on
towards the papal palace. Then Gandia turned to the man in the mask,
bade him get up on the crupper of his horse, and so rode slowly off
in the direction of the Giudecca, the single attendant he had retained
trotting beside his stirrup.

Giovanni directed his brother-in-law, not to the main entrance of the
house, but to the garden gate, which opened upon a narrow alley. Here
they dismounted, flinging the reins to the groom, who was bidden to
wait. Giovanni produced a key, unlocked the door, and ushered the Duke
into the gloom of the garden. A stone staircase ran up to the loggia
on the mezzanine, and by this way was Gandia now conducted, treading
softly. His guide went ahead. He had provided himself with y