De Vesci stepped back, white to the lips, and the court gathered round the king in silence. Seeing Tremouille at hand, I made bold to step up to him, and give him D'Amboise's note. He glanced at it, and turning to me said, "I gave my word, and it shall be kept. The honour of Tremouille is pledged." I was at a loss to understand; but had no time to think, for Louis suddenly called out, "Tremouille--Bayard--gentlemen! The Borgia is taken! Rome is ours!" At once there was a buzz, and a murmur of voices, in eager congratulation at the glad tidings. Standing alone and apart from all, I could barely see Louis, so closely did the court press around him; but it seemed that Tremouille was urging something on him, and the duchess too, for I caught the flash of the jewels on her fingers, as in her eagerness she laid them on the king's arm. Then Bayard's deep voice came to me clearly, "If done, 'twere well done quickly, sire." I do not exactly know how it happened; but I found myself kneeling before the king, who stood above me, his drawn sword in his hand. "M. di Savelli," he said, "one king of France owed you his life, another all but owes you a kingdom. Wear again your cross. It was nobly won. Take back your knighthood." He laid the blade gently on my shoulder, "for God, for your King, for your Lady. Arise, Sir Knight!" He stretched forth his hand to aid me to my feet, and I stood up again, with my honour white, in the very hall, almost on the very spot, whence I had been cast out in ignominy and shame. I could not speak--I was choked--my eyes were wet with tears. Seeing my emotion, Louis placed his hand kindly on my shoulder. "Remember, Di Savelli," he said, "France needs you yet. To the minuet, my lords and ladies--to the minuet!" And he turned down the hall, not waiting for my thanks. But friends sprang up everywhere. The first to give me her good wishes was the Duchesse de la Tremouille, then came the duke, old Ives d'Alegres, and others I can scarcely name. It was whilst in their midst that I saw a face I knew well, and Machiavelli came up. "Late, but not the less warm in my congratulations," he said; "so the good ship is safe in port at last! We owe you too much for speech, and can never thank you enough." "Your excellency is most kind. Is the Lady Angiola well?" He was silent for a moment, and laughed to himself, as if something stirred him. "As well as ever she was," he answered at length, and added, "You must sup with us this evening. We lodge in the Borgo di San Vito, and never mind your attire. My wife longs to see you, and thank you in person."