d.

Then they heard the bang of the gate and the croaking voice of Lapo
Cercamorte.

He entered the hall as he had so often entered the houses of
terror-stricken enemies, clashing at each ponderous, swift step, his
mail dusty, his hair wet and dishevelled, his dull-red face
resembling a mask of heated iron. That atmosphere just now swimming
in languor, was instantly permeated by a wave of force, issuing from
this herculean body and barbaric brain. When he halted before those
two they seemed to feel the heat that seethed in his steel-bound
breast.

His disfigured face still insolvable, Lapo Cercamorte plunged his
stare into Madonna Gemma's eyes, then looked into the eyes of
Raffaele. His hoarse voice broke the hush; he said to the young man:

"So you are the sister of my friend Count Nicolloto?"

Raffaele, having licked his lips, managed to answer:

"You mean his brother, sir."

Lapo Cercamorte laughed loud; but his laugh was the bark of a hyena,
and his eyes were balls of fire.

"No! with these legs and ringlets? Come here, Baldo. Here is a girl
who says she is a man. What do you say, to speak only of this pretty
skin of hers?"

And with his big hand suddenly he ripped open Raffaele's tunic half
way to the waist, exposing the fair white flesh. The troubadour,
though quivering with shame and rage, remained motionless, staring
at the great sword that hung in its scarlet sheath from Lapo's
harness.

Old one-eyed Baldo, plucking his master by the elbow, whispered:
"Take care, Cercamorte. His brother Nicolotto is your ally. Since
after all, nothing much has happened, do not carry the offence too
far."

"Are you in your dotage?" Lapo retorted, still glaring with a
dreadful interest at Raffaele's flesh. "Do you speak of giving
offence, when all I desire is to be as courteous as my uneducated
nature will allow? She must pardon me that slip of the hand; I meant
only to stroke her cheek in compliment but instead I tore her dress.
Yet I will be a proper courtier to her still. Since she is now set
on going home, I myself, alone, will escort her clear to the forest,
in order to set her upon the safe road."

And presently Madonna Gemma, peering from her chamber window, saw
her husband, with a ghastly pretense of care, lead young Raffaele
Muti down the hill into the darkness from which there came never a
sound. It was midnight when Lapo Cercamorte reentered the castle,
and called for food and drink.

Now the shadow