ed, with more calm, "to
you on whom I have no claim, I am more than grateful for your chivalrous
act in riding here to warn me."

Francesco sighed; a look of regret crossed his face.

"Alas!" he said. "When I rode hither, Madonna, I had hoped to serve you
to a better purpose. I had advice to offer and assistance if you should
need it; but the sight of those men-at-arms of yours makes me fear that
it is not advice upon which it would be wise to act. For the plan I had
in mind, it would be of the first importance that your soldiers should
be trustworthy, and this, I fear me, they are not."

"Nevertheless," put in Gonzaga feverishly, clinging to a slender hope,
"let us hear it."

"I beg that you will," said Valentina.

Thus enjoined, Francesco pondered a moment.

"Are you acquainted with the politics of Babbiano?" he inquired.

"I know something of them."

"I will make the position quite clear to you, Madonna," he rejoined. And
with that he told her of the threatened descent of Caesar Borgia upon
Gian Maria's duchy, and hence, of the little time at her suitor's
disposal; so that if he could but be held in check before the walls of
Roccaleone for a little while, all might be well. "But seeing in
what haste he is," he ended, "his methods are likely to be rough and
desperate, and I had thought that meanwhile you need not remain here,
Madonna."

"Not remain?" she cried, scorn of the notion in her voice. "Not remain?"
quoth Gonzaga timorously, hope sounding in his.

"Precisely, Madonna. I would have proposed that you leave Gian Maria
an empty nest, so that even if the castle should fall into his hands he
would gain nothing."

"You would advise me to fly?" she demanded.

"I came prepared to do so, but the sight of your men restrains me. They
are not trustworthy, and to save their dirty skins they might throw
Roccaleone open to the besiegers, and thus your flight would be
discovered, while yet there might be time to render it futile."

Before she could frame an answer there was Gonzaga feverishly urging her
to act upon so wise and timely a suggestion, and seek safety in flight
from a place that Gian Maria would tear stone from stone. His words
pattered quickly and piteously in entreaty, till in the end, facing him
squarely:

"Are you afraid, Gonzaga?" she asked him.

"I am--afraid for you, Madonna," he answered readily.

"Then let your fears have peace. For whether I stay or whether I go, one
thing is certain