"A Visconti's word," corrected Carrara. "Nay, lord, I think I shall need more than that." "What more can I give?" he asked. "You waste the time, Carrara." Giacomo was playing with the keys in his hand. "Yourself, Visconti," he returned calmly. "The army only waits for me to march on Milan, leaving Della Scala stripped of half his force. You will go with it, Visconti, as my prisoner. My army will conduct you into Milan--where I shall not leave you till the terms I offer are fulfilled. Then, Visconti, but not till then, we will together ruin Della Scala." Visconti was silent. "Come," continued Carrara, "shall it be so--or will you wait and meet Della Scala and Count Conrad?" "I accept your terms," said Gian, and rose to his feet. "I accept, Carrara." Giacomo's eyes shone. With trembling fingers he unbuttoned his long black velvet cloak and flung it on Visconti's shoulders. "We must hasten; even now the tipsy German may think to visit the castle." And he selected a key from the bunch in his hand, and advanced toward the inner door. Visconti started forward, with staring eyes. "Not that way!" he cried. Carrara turned in surprise, the key in the lock. "'Tis the only way, Visconti. Are you thinking we could pass unnoticed, you and I together?" Gian, deathly white, sank back obstinately against the wall. "I will not go that way," he said. "I will not go that way." "He is in his mad fit again," thought Giacomo; aloud he said soothingly: "Come, lord, this is the only way; will you rather wait to see Verona's face when he discovers you? What is wrong with this way?" he added in vexation as Visconti made no movement. "Quick! the moments fly!" Gian stepped forward with an effort. "'Tis my fancy," he said. "Idle, truly, at such a moment. Open the door, Carrara." The key ground in the lock--as Visconti had heard it once before that night turned on the other side. Carrara paused, however, and having taken the lamp from the niche, put it down with a smile, and drew a parchment from his belt. "I had forgotten," he said. "I will leave this, else Verona will miss the point of the jest; we will tell him what a brave catch his lieutenant hath allowed to escape the snare." And with the end of his dagger he drove the paper into the crevice of the stone. "I never loved Verona," he added, with an evil smile. But Visconti had not heard, nor was he heeding him; his eyes were riveted upon the door. Again Padua raised the lantern above his head. The glimmering light fell faintly on a dark chamber, and dimly lit a large black couch from which the tapestry coverlet was half dragged off. Visconti peered an instant over his rescuer's shoulder eagerly, then fell back. "I cannot," he said sullenly. "I will stay and face Della Scala--I cannot pass that way." Carrara turned and looked at him keenly. "What do you know of these chambers, that you are afraid to pass them, Visconti?" he asked.