smiss your hopes of that," put in the Count, with a solemn shake
of his head. And then, before another word was uttered, young Fanfulla
degli Arcipreti leapt of a sudden to his feet, his brows knit, and an
expression of alarm spreading upon his comely face. A second he
remained thus; then, going swiftly to the door, he opened it, and stood
listening, followed by the surprised glances of the assembled company.
But it needed not the warning cry with which he turned, to afford them
the explanation of his odd behaviour. In the moment's tense silence that
had followed his sudden opening of the door they had caught from without
the distant fall of marching feet.

CHAPTER II. ON A MOUNTAIN PATH

"Armed men, my lords!" had been Fanfulla's cry. "We are betrayed!"

They looked at one another with stern eyes, and with that grimness that
takes the place which fear would hold in meaner souls.

Then Aquila rose slowly to his feet, and with him rose the others,
looking to their weapons. He softly breathed a name--"Masuccio Torri."

"Aye," cried Lodi bitterly, "would that we had heeded your warning!
Masuccio it will be, and at his heels his fifty mercenaries."

"Not less, I'll swear, by the sound of them," said Ferrabraccio. "And we
but six, without our harness."

"Seven," the Count laconically amended, resuming his hat and loosening
his sword in its scabbard.

"Not so, my lord," exclaimed Lodi, laying a hand upon the Count's arm.
"You must not stay with us. You are our only hope--the only hope of
Babbiano. If we are indeed betrayed--though by what infernal means I
know not--and they have knowledge that six traitors met here to-night to
conspire against the throne of Gian Maria, at least, I'll swear, it is
not known that you were to have met us. His Highness may conjecture,
but he cannot know for sure, and if you but escape, all may yet he
well--saving with us, who matter not. Go, my lord! Remember your promise
to seek at your cousin's hand the gonfalon, and may God and His blessed
Saints prosper your Excellency."

The old man caught the young man's hand, and bending his head until his
face was hidden in his long white hair, he imprinted a kiss of fealty
upon it. But Aquila was not so easily to be dismissed.

"Where are your horses?" he demanded.

"Tethered at the back. But who would dare ride them at night adown this
precipice?"

"I dare for one," answered the young man steadily, "and so shall you all
dare. A bro