balustrade almost hidden in early roses, which trailed in great clusters over it and along the velvet turf. F

th the scent of the citron and myrtle; around their roots grew violets, primroses, daffodi

as no sign of the recent care of man; no wild things stirred; beside the basins of the fountains lay two peacocks, dead. The villa doors were open, showing something of the long corridor that traversed

it of black and gold, embroidered and decked out with ribbons, but the splendour hung upon a hollow frame: a skeleton. Long locks of pale golden hair heightened the ghastly hollowness of the pinched face. Conrad von Schulembourg was paying with this form of death for the favour of Valentine Visconti. As her brother's favourite, he had thought it safe t

melling leaves of the citron hung their rich clusters over opening lilies. Conrad, dragging himself across the grass, with straining eyes

long, he knew not how, he reached it; a little hollow fringed with fern, in its centre a calm and placid pool, the trees mirrored in its peaceful surface. Count Co

ers daintily, stooped and drank. Conrad drew himself a little nearer. Suddenly with a cry the bird whirled up into the air, beat its wings together vainly, and fell back into the water, dead! Poisoned! All the water poisoned! Desperation giving him a moment's strength, Count Conrad rose and regarded the dead dove with greedy eyes, but steeling himself against the impulse to devour his own death, he crawled on with the vague thought to reach th

Conrad thought again of the dead bird, and laughed wolfishly to himself, making with tottering steps back toward the hollow. To search coherently for food or drink or succour was now beyond his power. P

e again to mock him? The thought spurred the man, though dying, almost to strive to rise and meet his fate standing. But sky, grass, trees, and stone reeled about him in a chaos of green and blue.

r on his forehead, and a face that was not Visconti's bending over him; a

uke?' gasped Conrad. Fr

missary of

e?' whispered Conrad eagerl

I can,' replied Franc

re. Then a sudden thought shot horror into hi

water - from that fountain - th

tion of his glance. 'No,' he said. 'I ha

back. 'The water i

conti's doing!'

ispered Conrad feebly. 'Vis

o any; canst thou, wit

of life lending him strength, he staggered to his feet, and hel

co well perceived he had rescued a man past help

ad sank speechle

hough, hampered by his dead weight, he would be at any pursuer's mercy, or fall a prey to any ambush; so with stout words of encouragement, and forcing more wine through his lips, he lifted the Count to his shoulder and made as rapidly as he was able to the door beside the lichen. It was a breathless journey, but at last, and unmolested, Francisco gaine

, was carried to their shelter and laid on the rough heather couch in the hut, from which one of his own vassals had not long bee

For the first time since their knowledge of

id. 'I know nothing of him except that it is plainly to be seen he is some person of

on the ground over which he bent, and fury shook him. Of what use anything against Visconti? 'Oh, terrible to be so helpless!' he cried passi

id thee?' asked

stay here!' He pointed down at Conrad. 'The place will not be safe for us, let Visconti once discover his victim has escaped him. We wi

beside him, Conrad woke from a light doze and felt that he had hold on life

ot of Italy

ad von Sch

choed Francisco in surprise.

onder to die a lingering death of hunger, or of poisoned foo

oothed and

maso. 'Live and help rid the world of the Visconti. He wou

nd I will take revenge both for my

quickly and loo

is the same as mine: I too a

stioning stare, Francisc

s court, and barely escaped with life from the sacking of the town. Thou see's

ing toward the d

passionately, 'to be riding t