Graziosa opened the door slowly and stepped out onto the stair. It was almost dark there; silently she closed the door behind her and wrapped the cloak about her, drawing the hood over her head and face. Leaning over the stair rail, she saw that the door of the room below was open, her father's voice was silent: the soldiers had gone elsewhere. Softly she crept down into that pleasant chamber where Visconti had sat so often; the sunlight came in from the open door in a great band across the dark floor, falling on her white face as she moved through it and out into the yard. She saw there was no soldier by the door into the street. She opened it, she could see her father and the guard chatting over wine-cups by the sundial in the garden, they were not looking; she crossed like the shadow of the bird upon the floor. Her pet doves flew away at her guilty steps as if they did not know her, and Graziosa knew herself indeed changed from the one who had last fed them. The bolt of the door would at first not move for her trembling fingers, but she did not stay here; in a second more she stood in the street, a closed door behind her. Graziosa would never see it open more. The houses stood clear against a brilliant sapphire sky, and above them moved a silver banner, the banner of the Viper. It floated from the Visconti palace, and Graziosa, with no glance back, bent her steps in its direction. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR TREACHERY The day that was to place Milan in the enemy's hands was wearing to a close; the sun had almost set in a wide sky, a flare of orange and purple, against which the chestnuts stood in rich dark. Mastino della Scala and some few of his officers were standing in the little wood into which the secret passage opened. Behind them the army was in readiness. "I have wrenched success from the hands of failure!" cried Mastino, his eyes brilliant, a different man. He could have laughed aloud for joy; he would see Isotta to-night, he would keep his word; Visconti's palace was near the western gate, they would be up upon him before he knew. "There is no possibility of failure, Ligozzi; no possibility of treachery?" he said, eagerly, and pressed his friend's hands in his. "None, lord; Vistarnini is to be trusted to the death." "Von Schulembourg's horse returned to camp this morning," said Ligozzi. "I know not where the Count is." "When I am in Milan I will find him; he shall wed the Lady Valentine; I bear him no bitterness. Ah, Ligozzi, the world will be a different place to-morrow." And Mastino leaned forward eagerly, waiting for the first sign of the return of Tomaso, who had been sent ahead to reconnoiter. The sky flared and blazed through the trees till the whole world seemed on fire; the red clouds were reflected in Della Scala's polished armor till it glowed in one bright flame, above which the plumes on his steel cap floated long and white. The next second the glory faded and was gone, leaving the world cold and gray.