In a magnificent room in one of those grand buildings, half palace, half fortress, with which Rome in those days abounded, sat Cæsar Borgia and Ramiro d'Orco, on the very day on which Charles VIII. began his march from Lombardy to France. The cheek of Ramiro was less pale than usual, and there was a slight gathering together of the eyebrows, not to say a frown, which in an ordinary man might have signified very little, but in one who had so strong an habitual command over his features and over his emotions would indicate to those who knew him well, an unusual degree of excitement. His voice was calm, however, his tone courteous, and from time to time a quiet smile belied the aspect of his brow. "My lord," he said, "I must have some security. Not that I doubt your Eminence in the least. Heaven forbid! But all wise men like to have some guarantee for anything that is promised to them, and are always willing to give guarantees for that which they really intend to perform." "I swear by my soul and my salvation," answered Borgia, "that if you will aid me in this matter--aid me in its consummation--I will molest her in no shape. She shall be to me as sacred as a nun." "I am sure your lordship is sincere," replied Ramiro, "but if oaths were to be accepted at all, I would prefer that you swore in something you believe in, rather than by your soul and your salvation. Then as to your looking upon her as sacred as a nun, I have never heard that you regarded nuns as sacred at all. It is better we should understand each other clearly. I find, during your pleasure tour in Tuscany, you entered the Villa Morelli, had very nearly caught and carried her off, had she not been somewhat too light of foot for your gentlemen-in-armour, and that you then set fire to the villa in order to 'smoke her out,' as you expressed yourself. I have all the information, my lord, and although you are pleased to pass the matter off as a wild caprice to gratify your soldiery with a few fair captives, without any cognizance of her being in the villa, yet the answers to the inquiries you caused to be made at Florence should have satisfied you that she could be nowhere else. Now I believe I can aid you to the very man you want; and, as you are somewhat impatient, can do it without delay; but I must, in the first place, have some strong place put in my possession, where my daughter can be more safe than she was in the Villa Morella, until such time as her lover becomes her husband, and she leaves Italy for a somewhat quieter land." Cæsar Borgia laughed low and quietly. "Now what a strange thing is this that men call morality and virtue!" he exclaimed, with a bitter sneer. "Not the chameleon changes colour more frequently, and more completely according to the things around. But we have no time for philosophical reflections, my dear Ramiro. Tell me, are these men near at hand?"