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"San Riccardo was the companion-in-arms of Godfrey de Bouillon. His bones lie under the altar. Upon his return from the crusades he died in our palace. We still show the very room. His body is quite entire within that tomb. I have seen it myself when a boy." Even the count did not venture to raise any doubt as to the authenticity of the patron saint of the Trenta family.
The floor, too, is almost entirely overlaid by tombstones, but, like those in the nave, they are greatly defaced, and the inscriptions are for the most part illegible. Over the altar a blackened painting represents "San Riccardo of the Trenta" battling with the infidels before Jerusalem. "Here," said the cavaliere, standing in the centre under the dome, "is the chapel of the Trenta.
'Un Ballo in Maschera' , on the other hand, was for many years a great favourite in this country, and has recently been revived with remarkable success. The scene of the opera is laid in New England. Riccardo, the governor of Boston, loves Amelia, the wife of his secretary, Renato.
"Are you preparing another volley against that unlucky Cardinal?" he asked half irritably. "My dear fellow, why do you a-a-always attribute evil m-m-motives to people? It's m-most unchristian. I am preparing an essay on contemporary theology for the n-n-new paper." "What new paper?" Riccardo frowned.
Out and quickly spoke a young noble by the side of Adrian, Riccardo Annibaldi, who afterwards did good service both to the Tribune and to Rome, and whose valour brought him, in later life, to an untimely end. "By the Lord Adrian's permission," cried he, "I will break a lance with " "Hush! Annibaldi," interrupted Adrian. "And you, Sir Squire, know, that Adrian di Castello permits no proxy in arms.
He was Count Matteo, a nobleman of the days when the Messenians revolted against the chancellor of Queen Margaret. He was placed over this castle; and when a certain Count Riccardo was discovered in a conspiracy to murder the chancellor, and was taken captive, he was given into Matteo's charge, and imprisoned here.
"We must have someone here whom we can trust, in case of any special difficulty; and of all the set here Martini is the man in whom I have most confidence. Riccardo would do anything he could for us, of course; but I think Martini has a steadier head. Still, you know him better than I do; it is as you think."
Riccardo, knowing that a person who is writing in cipher must not be interrupted, sat down on the sofa behind her and yawned like a man who can hardly keep awake. "2, 4; 3, 7; 6, 1; 3, 5; 4, 1;" Gemma's voice went on with machine-like evenness. "8, 4; 7, 2; 5, 1; that finishes the sentence, Cesare." She stuck a pin into the paper to mark the exact place, and turned round.
"So was Athens," she interrupted, smiling; "but it was 'rather sluggish from its size and needed a gadfly to rouse it' " Riccardo struck his hand upon the table. "Why, we never thought of the Gadfly! The very man!" "Who is that?" "The Gadfly Felice Rivarez. Don't you remember him? One of Muratori's band that came down from the Apennines three years ago?" "Oh, you knew that set, didn't you?
One Gavaretto was found, who unlocked the prison, and Riccardo was already escaping when Matteo, roused at a slight noise, came, sword in hand, and would have slain him; but the traitor behind, "to save his wages," struck Matteo in the body, and the faithful count fell dead in his blood.
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