you wrong them," cried Fortemani, with heat. "Give them a
leader strong enough to hold them, to encourage and subject them, and
they will go anywhere at his bidding."

"And there," put in Gonzaga quickly, "you bring us back to the main
issue. Such a leader you have shown us that you are not. You have done
worse. You have been insubordinate when you should not only have been
orderly, but have enforced orderliness in others. And for that, by my
lights, you should be hanged. Waste no more time on him, Madonna," he
concluded, turning to Valentina. "Let the example be made."

"But, Madonna----" began Fortemani, paling under the tan of his rugged
countenance.

Gonzaga silenced him.

"Your words are vain. You have been insubordinate, and for
insubordination there is but one penalty."

The bully hung his head, deeming himself lost, and lacking the wit to
retort as Francesco unexpectedly retorted for him.

"Madonna, there your adviser is at fault. The charge against the man is
wrong. There has been no insubordination."

"How?" she questioned, turning to the Count. "None, say you?"

"A Solomon is arisen," sneered Gonzaga. Then peevishly; "Waste not words
with him, Madonna," he pursued. "Our business is with Fortemani."

"But stay, my good Gonzaga. He may be right."

"Your heart is over-tender," answered Romeo impatiently. But she had
turned from him now, and was begging Francesco to make his meaning
clearer.

"Had he raised his hand against you, Madonna, or even against Messer
Gonzaga, or had he disobeyed an order given him by either of you, then,
and then only, could there be question of insubordination. But he has
done none of these things. He is guilty of grossly misusing my servant,
it is true, but there is no insubordination in that, since he was under
no promise of loyalty to Lanciotto."

They stared at him as though his words were words of recondite wisdom
instead of the simple statement of a plain case. Gonzaga crestfallen,
Fortemani with a light of hope and wonder shining in his eyes, and
Madonna with a faint nodding of the head that argued agreement. They
wrangled a while yet, Gonzaga bitter and vindictive and rashly scornful
of both Francesco and Fortemani. But the Count so resolutely held the
ground he had taken that in the end Valentina shrugged her shoulders,
acknowledged herself convinced, and bade Francesco deliver judgment.

"You are in earnest, Madonna?" quoth Francesco in surprise, whilst a
blac