"Now," cried Mastino, hoarsely. "They gave me till to-night--surely, Ligozzi, they gave me till to-night." "Thou dost not need until to-night, my lord. Visconti asked thy honor." "And offered me," said Della Scala slowly, "Isotta." Ligozzi looked at him horror-struck; an awful thought was breaking on him. The eyes of the two men met; Ligozzi's was steady, but Mastino's flinched. Neither spoke for some moments, Ligozzi at last incredulously. "You cannot mean--to accept?" Mastino was silent. "Oh, no," cried Ligozzi, passionately. "You are not yourself. For the love of Heaven let me go and tell them to depart." And he started forward, but Mastino caught him by the arm. "Stay, Ligozzi; I command it." "Then you yourself will tell them? Oh, it is impossible that _thou_ couldst fall!" "Impossible?" Mastino rose with clenched hands. "I think it is impossible that I could let her die." Ligozzi looked at his changed face. "The cities are not yours, my lord; the soldiers are not yours--would you be a traitor, Della Scala?" Mastino winced. "I would save my wife," he muttered, his face turned aside. "Your wife! A woman!" cried Ligozzi. "Gian Visconti will burn in hell for tempting you, but, by all the saints, so will you, my lord, if you accept such terms." Mastino was roused. The energy of Ligozzi broke the bonds of his dull agony. He turned, also passionately. "Have I not prayed and implored for this--only this--her life and her return? Have I not sworn and vowed I would recover her--at _any_ cost? Have I not warned them of it--and she shall not die! She shall not die! What care I for the cities! Did I not warn them? She shall not die!" He fell to pacing the tent wildly, but Ligozzi stood in his place, bitter sorrow, deep anger in his face. "Think what it means," he said sternly. "I will not," cried Mastino. "I will be baited and hounded no more. What has their grudging help done for me? I tell thee I warned them, I would hold them as nothing when it came to saving her."