'You were the last to offer me that homage, Bellarion.' Her voice was slow and softly attuned. 'Why did you hesitate? Are you reluctant?' 'It was a gesture, madonna, that becomes the Carmagnolas of this world. Sincerity requires no symbols, and it was only at the symbol that I boggled. My service and my life are unreservedly at your command.' There was a pause. Her eyes continued to ponder him. 'Take up your sword,' she said at last. He moved to do so, and then checked. 'Yourself you restored theirs to the others.' 'The others are not as you. Upon you has fallen the mantle of Facino. How much of that mantle will you wear, Bellarion?' 'As much of it as my lord intended. You have heard his testament, madonna.' 'But not your own interpretation of it.' 'Have I not said that my life and services are at your command, as my lord, to whom I owe everything, enjoined upon me?' 'Your life and services,' she said slowly. Her breast heaved as if in repressed agitation. 'That is much to offer, Bellarion. Do you ask nothing in return?' 'I offer these in return for all that I have received already. It is I who make payment, madonna.' Again there was a baffled pause. She sighed heavily. 'You make it hard for me, Bellarion.' There was a pathetic break in her voice. 'What do I make hard?' She rose, and in evident timidity came to stand before him. She set a white hand on the black velvet sleeve of his tunic. Her lovely face, with which time had dealt so mercifully, was upturned to his, and there was now no arrogance in its lines or in her glance. She spoke quietly, wistfully. 'You may think, Bellarion, that with my lord scarce buried this is not the hour for ... what I have to say. And yet, by the very fact of my lord's death and by the very terms of his testament, this is the hour, because it must be the hour of decision. Here and now we must determine what is to follow.' Tall and coldly stern he stood, looking down upon her who swayed a little there, so close to him that his nostrils were invaded by the subtle essences she used. 'I await your commands, madonna.' 'My commands? My commands? Dear God! What commands have I for you?' She looked away for an instant, then brought her eyes back to his face and her other hand to his other sleeve, so that she held him completely captive now. A faint colour stirred in the pale cheeks. 'My lord has left me great possessions. They might serve as a footstool to help you mount to a great destiny.' A little smile hovered about his lips as he looked down upon her who waited so breathlessly, her breast now touching his own. 'You are offering me ...' he said, and stopped.