"Cynthia!" cried the Duchess, suddenly stopping short, and fixing a piercing look on her, "did _you_ bring these people on us?" "What people, Leila?" "These pirates!--these Moors!" "Take the lamp!" cried Cynthia, thrusting it into her hand, and stamping passionately. "Kill me if you will, since you can suspect me! Here's a dagger--I brought it to defend you and myself." "Nay, but I do not want to suspect you. Put up your dagger, foolish girl. Who talks about killing?" said the Duchess, shrinking from the gleaming steel. "Speak but the word and I will believe you; only, as they are countrymen of yours, and as you so hate the Christians, the thought just crossed me." "I'll _never_ speak the word," said Cynthia, stubbornly. "You may kill me if you will, but I'll _never_ say!" And with dilated nostrils, quivering lips, and flaming eyes, she strode on before her mistress. It was not a time or place for the Duchess to take notice of it--to a woman with a dagger! CHAPTER II. THE DUCHESS IN SAFETY. Emerging from the gallery, the Duchess uttered a faint cry, and would have shrunk back again on seeing some dark figures stealthily approaching; but they proved to be only two of her own servants, each with a led horse, on which she and Cynthia were speedily mounted, and on their way to Vallecorsa. Meantime a desperate conflict was raging in the town and castle, led on by the fiery Barbarossa himself, his lieutenant Dragut, and the renegade Sinan, the most relentless of his corsairs. Again and again resounds the cry "Where is the Duchess, ye Christian dogs?"--"Out of your reach!" they shout back; and a volley of stones descends from the battlements. Defence is vain; the gates are forced in, the assailants pour through the rooms, and, disappointed of their prey, hack and spoil the rich furniture, and carry off what comes ready to hand. Faithful retainers are cut down; others have their hands tied and are carried off to be sold into slavery; among them, a youth called Tebaldo Adimari, the pride and hope of Fondi.