The Count now carried his victorious arms into the country of Rimini, and, after taking Mondaino, laid siege to Montefiori, which capitulated on the 22nd of October, when Giovanni, a son of Sigismondo, was made prisoner. Being demanded by the papal legate, it was not without considerable discussion that a preferable claim to his ransom was established for the lieutenant-general, who proved that the war was on his part one neither of selfishness nor vengeance, by freely restoring his liberty and personal effects, and escorting him in person from the camp with many kind and consolatory expressions. It is curious to contrast this chivalrous conduct with the unworthy trick by which Federigo dexterously, and apparently without any stain upon his good name, gained the citadel of Verucchio after the town had surrendered. He caused a letter, forged in the name of Sigismondo, and fastened with an old impression of his seal,[112] to be transmitted to the castellan, informing him that on a stated night a reinforcement of twenty men would arrive, whom he should be prepared to admit. At the indicated hour a detachment stealthily approached the gate, which was hastily opened to them on an alarm rising in the besieger's camp; rushing upon the guard, they were quickly supported by their confederates, and the place was carried ere the garrison were aware that they had admitted enemies in the guise of friends. The few remaining weeks of open weather sufficed to reduce all the territory of Rimini, with most of that around Cesena; and when the snow fell Federigo repaired to Verucchio, whence he blockaded the city of Rimini during the winter. [Footnote 112: So say Muzio and Baldi. Pius II. and Reposati print the letter as from his brother Malatesta Novello, lord of Cesena, brother-in-law of Federigo, a prince who shared, without deserving, his brother's fate, and whose love of literature, differing widely from that of the vainglorious Sigismondo, continues to benefit posterity in the fine old library which he founded at Cesena, where its ponderous tomes remain chained to their stalls as he left them four centuries ago. See his verses in I. of the Appendices.]