The Viper of Milan: A Romance of Lombardy

ns - and no more, even if

, who had held the bridle of his horse two days before in the procession that had wended toward Brescia, were seat

fifty, my lord,' he said, his

,' was the curt answer. 'A hundred t

d, mean writing that trailed unevenly along the page. Visconti's secretary wrote

n to bareness. A narrow lancet window, placed low in the wall, admitted a subdued light, whic

be paid in gold,' repeated Vis

g for ever concealed under the mask of cringing servility. But in Giannotto's dislike there was nothing noble; it was merely mean hate of a sordid soul that grudged the success

to Giannotto with a smile. His eyes were a beautiful grey, open wide, and just now lig

ion, Giannotto,' lie said, 'and is well worth a hundred thousand

es honoured by this match,

w, if I can find a daughter of the Plantagenets for brother

s lords of Milan, supplanting their rival the Torriani, who had long reigned as magistrates-inchief, and under Martin della Torre risen to some eminence. Every year of the fifty since then had seen some increase of territ

and Belluno. Florence, lately leagued against him in support of his deposed father, had been beaten in bat

s hands. The secretary wondered, as he thought, how long it would be before the triumphant Gian threw away the mere rag of

id. 'Thou wilt marry a Valois to t

ition? No, Giannotto, I have placed myself above the need of that. The alliances that mak

entured the secretary,

'Which is not what Valentine i

ve trouble

been a favourite with him and all his court and had won the heart of Valentine Visconti; no favouri

us, and Giannotto

leaned across to Giannotto, not that he valued any response that he could offer - Visconti's secretary was no more to him than the chair on which he sat, valued solely for his skill in letters - but hi

before Visconti

use the only man I ever 'feared, the only man who ever dared to despise me! But he has fallen, he

he seized Giannotto by the arm

re presided over by a major-domo in a black gown, who called out directions in a shrill voice. To one side a few unhappy men, of note enough to have been spared, watched in grim silence the unloading of the spoils that came from the sacking of their palaces. The great g

tion, della Scala's jewels. How my treasury will be enriched

ed, cringing. 'Still, thou hast his wife, m

d'Este

him ride away back to Milan, his offer of the Visconti's friendship scorned and flung in his face by her proud family, the haughty Estes. Visconti's face grew dark as he remembered her; almost more than della Scala, her dead husba

be used against her family, should the

ord?' asked Giannotto, with his stealthy

to make sure it is not a dream; to see and feel with my eyes and my own hands that

m to leave it, but

to leave the palace. I have spies on her every movement;

in front of him. His thoughts were with Valentine Visconti, Gian's unhappy sister, whom he had been

d choose her way of escaping from it. Conrad offered one and she was ready to take it - now -five days ago! Yes - Count Conrad is dead, and she will marry the

to glance toward the door, as if to keep himse

anew admitted him. The whole Visconti palace was a sombre and gloomy place; men crept about it on their tiptoe, glancing fearfully around them, afraid of t

stone steps, pitch dark, from which he emerged into a large circular chamber with a thick pillar in the middle from which the groined ceiling sprang. Save table and high-backed chair of blackened wood, there was no furniture. This

guard?' sa

one picked for size and trustworthiness, and I mys

e that thy head wi

enly to the right and left, Visconti passed through their ranks into the room beyond - a small apartment, dim lit and hung with arras. An old wom

losed the do

. 'How, does she bear

oward an inner door, ma

he has not spoken since we brought her here; but when she is alone, she weeps, I have heard

him gagged against the door

ld woman. 'But if I know anything of prisoners, and I ha

' he said to himself. 'She mus

y barred. The walls were hung with faded tapestry, the gloomy, sad-looking folds drooping like torn, captured standards. A huge chest of sombre blackness leaned against the wall; above it hung a horn lantern, which after dark gave all the light th

appearance, but her face was marred by sorrow and her eyes red from many tears. Her pale yellow hair was drawn under a white veil. Her long grey dress clung close about h

e easily to break that silence. At last he slowly d

doubly sure that she was safe. Every inch was inspected, every crevice searched. Meanwhile from time to time he observed her keenly. But she seemed not to know her solitude was broken, save that once, when he passed her, she swept in the train of her gown, as she might have done had a leper come too near. A simple thing, but it goaded him,

ew the ring had been withdrawn. The spoiled hand fell back again on to the velvet arm, her eyes were fixed immovably upon her book, and Visconti, turning away to the door, silent as he came, looked back at her, incredulous of such control. She was sitting straight and slender, her delicate head poised high, but -