"You have been riding Milan to see the rejoicings?" interrupted Valentine, and she raised her eyes to Graziosa once--the glance was not pleasant--then she fell to playing with her bracelet again. "Yes," said Graziosa innocently. "My lord bade me ride to the new church." She was very happy, and affection welled up in her tender heart, even for the woman who had used her so cruelly--for she was Gian's sister. With a timid gesture she held out her little hand to Valentine. "Will you not ride back beside me?" she asked, pleadingly. But Valentine ignored her hand and her request. "Have you visited any other churches in your ride?" she asked. "What other church in Milan should interest the Lady Graziosa?" asked d'Orleans wearily, fearing to be sent back on some distasteful journey. "I did not know--I thought there might be one--Santa Maria, close to the western gate." And Valentine looked straight at Graziosa, who paled beneath her tone. "How should that interest me?" she faltered. Costanza put her hand on Valentine's sleeve. "Have a care," she whispered. "Not before them all, madama, for pity's sake!" But Visconti's sister took no heed; she gathered up her reins and signed to her escort to move on. "Of course," she said, "why should it interest thee?--there is nothing there--it is only a small, mean church, where a poor, obscure traitor lies on his bier." She looked around the startled faces with a bitter scorn on her own. "Who has heard of him?--one Agnolo Vistarnini--killed by the Duke's orders, killed by thy lover's orders, in the very hour that ye betrayed him to him, Graziosa Vistarnini!" She flung the words at her as if they had been knives, and if they had been they could not have been more deadly. Without a word, her hand catching at her throat, Graziosa sank from her horse, the scene in an instant one of confusion. "Dieu! what have you done!" cried d'Orleans, springing from the saddle and raising Graziosa. "Who will answer for this?" "She will not die of it," said Valentine, scornfully. "She will take care to live--to be Duchess of Milan." "Oh, shame! shame!" cried Costanza, and several echoed the cry. "'Twas no gentle act," said d'Orleans, lifting Graziosa, "and heaven save you now, Princess!" "And our heads may have to pay for it," grumbled the officer who led Graziosa's escort. "Men, see the Princess does not escape, or there will no one of us live to save ourselves." "Shame! shame!" said the Duke again, as Graziosa, white as death, was laid in a litter. "You have done a mad thing!" And the whole fluttering cavalcade whirled in startled confusion toward the palace. Valentine looked after them, and there was no remorse in her face. "You must answer to the Duke for this, madama," said the officer, "and at once." She turned her horse slowly, and at a quiet pace rode toward the Visconti palace. Costanza began to weep. "Nothing can save you now, mistress--why did you do it? Oh, why!"