Under the look in her brother's face Valentine stepped back again and huddled herself against the wall: she saw Visconti draw his dagger--and she hid her eyes--but motionless and without a sound. "I have had enough of you," said Visconti, and strode down upon her in a white madness of fury, forgetful of all else. "I will clear you from my path--yes, as I did the others." Then he looked at de Lana, and something in the soldier's face told him he would have to kill him first. "And as I will any who oppose me," he cried, furiously. "Am I not the Duke of Milan? Take thy hand from thy sword, de Lana. Now we will settle scores, Valentine." His hand was lifted, Giannotto turned his face away, and de Lana had thrown himself forward, when a light knock on the door close by broke the moment's silence, and Visconti's hand sank to his side. "Open!" he cried. "It is the messenger from the Lady Graziosa," and de Lana, eagerly seizing the interruption, flung wide the door. Visconti looked up and met Valentine's eyes, and she knew how near she was to death. "My lord," said de Lana, returning, "the Lady Graziosa hath recovered--there is no fear of her life, my lord." "Ah!" Visconti returned his dagger to its sheath, and Giannotto gave a gasp of relief. "Take my sister to her apartments, de Lana, and guard her well there--and if any ask for her, say she is under my displeasure----" The captain turned, glad to take her from the room alive. "Will you see the messenger, my lord?" "No," said Visconti, fiercely. "As long as she lives, what care I for the messenger?" The soldier seized Valentine's wrist and forced her, still reluctant, from the room. She was conquered, not subdued. "If Graziosa dies," said Visconti, turning to Giannotto, "she does not live either. You have heard me say it.--She and her woman's venom!" he continued, pacing the room furiously. "I should have swept her away sooner--I would now but for the French, and the French shall not save her the next time. He is a fool, Giannotto, who thinks that because a woman is a prisoner she is powerless--let him remember her tongue." "My lord, she may have thought the lady knew," faltered Giannotto. "Silence!" cried Visconti. "She may have thought I wanted to give Isotta d'Este her liberty! Ah, let her beware! Graziosa, too; why did she not tell her that she lied? Had I not said he lived? Has she no spirit--no dignity--to shame me by her silence and her moans!" The secretary ventured on no reply. He fumbled with the parchments on the table and drew one forward. Visconti's glance fell on it and his rage calmed instantly; his eyes flashed with a changed expression. "These are the terms we sent to Della Scala?" he asked, with a sudden smile. "Yes, my lord; terms I think that cannot fail." The Duke sat silent a while, and the smile deepened to a laugh. "I disturb myself for a woman's quarrels," he said at last, "and am on the eve of winning Lombardy!"