nnounced, with an ease that he
vainly strove to feel. "I have given the command of my guards to Martino
Armstadt, and he has engaged for me a company of five hundred Swiss
lanzknechte that were lately in the pay of the Baglioni of Perugia."

"And you deem this security?" rejoined Francesco, with a smile of scorn.
"To hedge your throne with foreign spears commanded by a foreigner?"

"This and God's grace," was the pious answer.

"Bah!" answered Francesco, impatient at the hypocrisy. "Win the hearts
of your people. Let that be your buckler."

"Hush!" whispered Gian Maria. "You blaspheme. Does not every act of my
self-sacrificing life point to such an aim? I live for my people. But,
by my soul, they ask too much when they ask that I should die for them.
If I serve those who plot against my life, as I have served these men
you speak of, who shall blame me? I tell you, Francesco, I wish I might
have those others who escaped, that I might do as much by them. By the
living God, I do! And as for the man who was to have supplanted me----"
He paused, a deadly smile on his sensual mouth completing the sentence
more effectively than lay within the power of words. "Who could it
have been?" he mused. "I've vowed that if Heaven will grant me that I
discover him, I'll burn a candle to Santa Fosca every Saturday for a
twelvemonth and go fasting on the Vigil of the Dead. Who--who could it
have been, Franceschino?"

"How should I know?" returned Francesco, evading the question.

"You know so much, Checco mio. Your mind is so quick to fathom matters
of this kind. Think you, now, it might have been the Duca Valentino?"

Francesco shook his head.

"When Caesar Borgia comes he will know no need to resort to such poor
means. He will come in arms to reduce you by his might."

"God and the saints protect me!" gasped the Duke. "You talk of it as if
he were already marching."

"Then I talk of it advisedly. The event is none so remote as you would
make yourself believe. Listen, Gian Maria! I have not ridden from Aquila
for just the pleasure of passing the time of day with you. Fabrizio da
Lodi and Fanfulla degli Arcipreti have been with me of late."

"With you?" cried the Duke, his little eyes narrowing themselves as they
glanced up at his cousin. "With you---eh?" He shrugged his shoulders and
spread his palms before him. "Pish! See into what errors even so clear
a mind as mine may fall. Do you know, Francesco, that marking their
absenc