For me, I could hardly breathe. A hundred feelings were tossing together within me, all that I could think of was to throw aside everything, to gallop to Perugia, to save her at any cost. The cardinal's voice came to me as from a distance. "I agree--one glass each of this all round, and then--cavaliere, would you mind handing me those glasses?" Three peculiar shaped, straw-coloured Venetian glasses were close to me, these I passed onwards mechanically to D'Amboise, and he went on, filling the glasses to the brim with wine from the flagon, as he spoke. "I admired the rare workmanship of this flagon last night, and his holiness sent it home with me, full to the brim with this Falernian, which Giulia Bella herself poured into it. The wine is of a priceless brand, and our lord was good enough to say, that if I liked it, he would send me all in his cellars if I only let him know." "We will drink this then, with your eminence's permission, to the success of the undertaking," said the secretary, poising his glass in the air. "Right," said D'Amboise. "Gentlemen, success to our venture!" He raised the wine to his lips. I silently did the same. "Hold!" We stopped in amaze, and Machiavelli, who had spoken, quietly emptied his glass into a bowl beside him. "What does this mean?" said the cardinal. "This, your eminence," and Machiavelli held out his hand, on which an opal was flashing a moment before. The stone was still there, in the gold band on his finger; but it was no longer an opal, but something black as jet, devoid of all lustre. Startled by the movement, D'Amboise bent over the extended fingers, and I followed his example. The red on the cardinal's cheek went out, and his lips paled as he looked at the ring. "Poison! Heart of Jesus!" he muttered through pale lips. "Yes," said Machiavelli, slowly, withdrawing his hand, "the ring tells no lies. _Diavolo!_ Was ever so grim a jest? Asking you to tell him if your eminence liked the wine!" It was too near a matter to be pleasant, and the hideous jest, and the treachery of Alexander, filled me with a hot anger. It had the effect however of pulling me together at once, the sudden presence of death, and the danger, recalling me to myself, for all my thoughts of Angiola. I breathed a prayer of thanks for our escape. It was a good omen. My luck was not yet run out.