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Still they advanced, Cappoccio's voice shouting encouragement. Almost were they within range of that lengthy sword, when of a sudden it flashed from his shoulder, and swept a half-circle of dazzling light before their eyes. Round his head it went, and back again before them, handled as though it had been a whip, and bringing them, silent, to a standstill.
I was told that probably there would be no fighting, and that if there were, it would be no more than a brush with the Duke's men. So, too, did you assure my comrades." "Did you indeed?" quoth Valentina, intervening, and addressing herself to Fortemani, to whom Cappoccio's words had been directed. "I did, Madonna," answered Ercole. "But I had Messer Gonzaga's word for it."
He was troubled by no lofty notions of honour that should cause him to see in this deed of Gonzaga's anything more than such a trickster's act as it is always agreeable to foil. And then, to the others, who knew naught of what was passing in Cappoccio's mind, he did a mighty strange thing.
"If you would have us remain in Roccaleone, let be. Aventano, tell me." "To Messer Romeo Gonzaga," answered the youth, in a voice of wonder. So evil a light leapt to Cappoccio's eye that Francesco carried his free hand to the sword which he had lowered. But Cappoccio only looked up at Gonzaga, and grinned malevolently.
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