before proceeding to Treviso, and were detained in the convent of the Vergini, the same religious house which had served as a prison for two ladies of the Quirini family more than a century earlier. It was there that the Countess received the news of her husband’s execution, which was announced to her by one of the heads of the Council of Ten and an Avogador; and these officials at the same time demanded of her a list of her jewellery, assuring her that the Signory would forgive her misdeeds if she would only show a proper spirit of contrition. I find no account of the poor woman’s behaviour on this occasion; but as the sentence was executed only a few hours after it was passed, the news of her husband’s death on the scaffold was in all likelihood conveyed to her without any previous notice of his condemnation, and it was accompanied by a cold request for an inventory of her jewels, and a lecture on patience and repentance. Even the imagination of a novelist fails to guess what she must have felt as she listened to the grim men who had just condemned her husband and seen him die, and now wished to be told how many earrings and gold chains and brooches she had in her possession. She afterwards really retired to Treviso with her daughters, and the Republic continued to pay her the promised allowance, till she one day escaped to Milan, whereby the obligations of the Venetian government were ended. Whatever Visconti’s plans may have been when he secretly renewed his relations with Carmagnola, whether he intended to compass his ruin or not, it is certain that he bitterly resented his execution, and used every means, including the most inhuman tortures, to discover the names of those who had accused and condemned the condottiero. If he had succeeded he would no doubt have tried to poison them all. [Illustration: S. ROCCO] Not long after Carmagnola was imprisoned, Piccinino, one of Visconti’s generals, captured in a skirmish at Valtellina Giorgio Corner, a noble and very influential Venetian, who had acted as Provveditor to oversee Carmagnola’s doings in the field. He was taken to Monza, near Milan, and confined there in one of the prisons called ‘Forni,’ ‘ovens,’ compared with which the dreaded Pozzi seem to have been thought airy and luxurious quarters. He lived to write an account of what he suffered, and I shall give a literal translation of his words, not for the sake of inspiring horror, but because the document bears the unmistakable stamp of truth, and is one of very few of the kind which have come down to us. Corner was first examined by Gaspare de Grossis, Doctor of Laws. [Sidenote: _Rom. iv. 166, note._]