idge. And now on his other side Gonzaga crept up
to him, and whispered into his ear the suggestion that he should wait
until night had fallen.

"Wait until night, fool!" blazed the Duke, turning on him, in a fierce
joy at finding one whom he might rend. "If I wait until then, my throne
is lost to me. This comes of sorting with traitors. It is your fault,
you Judas!" he cried more fiercely still, his face distorted; "but you
at least shall pay for what you have done."

Gonzaga saw a sudden flash of steel before his eyes, and a piercing
scream broke from him as Gian Maria's dagger buried itself in his
breast. Too late Guidobaldo put forward a hand to stay the Duke.

And so, by a strangely avenging justice, the magnificent Gonzaga
sank dead on the very spot on which he had so cravenly and dastardly
poniarded Aventano.

"Throw me that carrion into the moat," growled Gian Maria, still
quivering with rage that had prompted his ferocious act.

He was obeyed, and thus murdered and murderer were united in a common
grave.

After the first attempt to restrain Gian Maria, Guidobaldo had looked
on in unconcern, deeming the act a very fitting punishment of a man with
whose treachery he, at least, had never been in sympathy.

As he saw the body vanish in the torrent below, Gian Maria seemed to
realise what he had done. His anger fell from him, and with bent head he
piously crossed himself. Then turning to an attendant who stood at his
elbow:

"See that a Mass is said for his soul to-morrow," he solemnly bade him.

As if the act had served to pacify him and restore him to his senses,
Gian Maria now stepped forward and asked his cousin, in calmer tones
than he had hitherto employed, to make clear the terms on which he would
permit him to return to Babbiano within the time to which his people
limited him.

"They are no more than that you relinquish your claim to Monna
Valentina, and that you find consolation--as I think his Highness of
Urbino has himself suggested--in the Lord Guidobaldo's younger niece."

Before he could reply Guidobaldo was urging him, in a low voice to
accept the terms.

"What else is there for you?" Montefeltro ended pregnantly.

"And this other niece of yours----?" quoth Gian Maria lamely.

"I have already passed my word," answered Guidobaldo.

"And Monna Valentina?" the other almost whined.

"May wed this headstrong condottiero of hers. I'll not withstand them.
Come; I am your friend in this. I