scaling ladder.
They carried it some yards from the brink of the torrent, and deposited
it in the meadow. With a laugh of purest relish Francesco stepped to
Valentina's side.

"It will exercise their minds to discover how we got out," he cried,
"and they will be forced to the conclusion that we are angels all, with
wings beneath our armour. We have not left them a single ladder or a
strand of rope in Roccaleone by which to attempt to follow us, even if
they discover how we came. But come, Valentina mia, the comedy is not
finished yet. Already Fortemani will have removed the bridge by which
they entered and engaged such few men as may have been left behind, and
we have the High and Mighty Gian Maria in the tightest trap that was
ever fashioned."

CHAPTER XXV. THE CAPITULATION OF ROCCALEONE

In the sunshine of that bright May morning Francesco and his men went
merrily to work to possess themselves of the ducal camp, and the first
business of the day was to arm those soldiers who had come out unarmed.
Of weapons there was no lack, and to these they helped themselves
in liberal fashion, whilst here and there a man would pause to don a
haubergeon or press a steel cap on his head.

Three sentries only had been left to guard the tents, and of these
Fortemani and a couple of his men had made prisoners whilst the others
were removing the bridge by which the invaders had entered. And now
beneath the open postern by the drawbridge gaped a surging torrent that
no man would have the hardihood to attempt to swim.

In that opening, presently, appeared Gian Maria, his face red for
once, and behind him a clamouring crowd of men-at-arms who shared their
master's rage at the manner in which they had been trapped.

At the rear of the tents Valentina and her ladies awaited the issue of
the parley that now seemed toward. The bulk of the men were busy at Gian
Maria's cannons, and under Francesco's supervision they were training
them upon the drawbridge.

From the castle a mighty shout went up. The men disappeared from the
postern to reappear a moment later on the ramparts, and Francesco
laughed deep down in his throat as he perceived the purpose of this.
They had bethought them of the guns that were mounted there, and were
gone to use them against Valentina's little army. Gun after gun they
tried, and a fierce cry of rage burst forth when they realised by what
dummies they had been held in check during the past week. This was