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Updated: June 25, 2025
But like a paradise alas! it had its snake that crept up unheard behind her, and was presently hissing in her ear. And its voice was the voice of Romeo Gonzaga. "It comforts me, Madonna, that there is one, at least, in Roccaleone has the heart to sing." Startled out of her happy pensiveness by that smooth and now unutterably sinister voice, she turned to face its owner.
To ensure the safe keeping of his captive, he had been ordered by Gonzaga, who now resumed command of Roccaleone, to spend the night in the ante-room of Francesco's chamber. These orders he had exceeded by spending a considerable portion of the night in the Count's very room.
"Such a course I am already pursuing. But whither will it lead me?" "I do not mean the mere defiance of words mere protestations that you will not wed Gian Maria. Listen, Madonna! The Castle of Roccaleone is your property. It is perhaps the stoutest fortress in all Italy, to-day. Lightly garrisoned and well-provisioned it might withstand a year's siege."
In that moment of wrath he forgot their positions, and gave never a thought to the smarting that must be with Gonzaga at the loss of rank he had suffered since Valentina had appointed a provost. "And are these your methods of fortifying Roccaleone?" he asked, in a voice that cut like a knife. "You have laid in good store of wine, a flock of sheep, and endless delicacies, sir," he jeered.
They are not trustworthy, and to save their dirty skins they might throw Roccaleone open to the besiegers, and thus your flight would be discovered, while yet there might be time to render it futile."
But Francesco only thought of the splendid daring of the lady's action. "But these men-at-arms that she had with her?" he cried. "For what purpose so numerous a bodyguard?" The captain looked at him a moment. "Can you not guess?" he inquired. "Perhaps you do not know the Castle of Roccaleone." "It were odd if I did not know the most impregnable fortress in Italy."
From their eminence they surveyed the bustling camp in the plain, where tents, green, brown, and white, were being hastily erected by half-stripped soldiers. The little army altogether, may have numbered a hundred men, which, in his vainglory, Gian Maria accounted all that would be needed to reduce Roccaleone.
"As I believe the men of Roccaleone are in your service, I call upon you to bid them throw down that drawbridge, and in the name of Guidobaldo as well as my own, I promise them free pardon and no hurt saving only that rascal at your side. But if your knaves resist me, I promise you that when I shall have dashed Roccaleone stone from stone, not a man of you all will I spare."
In the light of what has passed here at Roccaleone through my folly you you may think my mission charged with vindictiveness." Perplexity stared at him from her eyes. "You fill me with alarm, my good Gonzaga," she answered him, though smiling. "Alas it has fallen to my unfortunate lot to do more than that.
He went white with fear and he leant against the low wall to steady the tell-tale trembling that had seized him. Then Francesco's voice, scornful and confident, floated up to his ears. "I ask you, my friends, would his Highness of Babbiano be disposed to the payment of a thousand gold florins if by bombardment he thought to break a way into Roccaleone? This letter was written yesterday.
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