"I have tried everything," cried Conrad, gayly. "I tried to rescue the Lady Valentine, I tried to kill Visconti, I tried to make him kill me--I have failed. My Lady Valentine is married, and is set out for France." "For France!" interrupted d'Este. "Then must the country indeed be in Visconti's hands if his sister and a wedding-train set out for France!--what news, Count? surely there is some news?" "Not much I care to repeat," replied Conrad. "Only rumors--all the country I rode through, from here to Milan, seems to swarm with Visconti's men--I saw no sign of Della Scala--there were wild tales abroad, and wild sights." "On my honor, Count, you might have come with better information than this--days have we been waiting with no sign nor word----" "From Mastino, would you say?" asked Conrad, eagerly. "From Mastino. Have you not heard or seen aught of him?" cried Ippolito. Conrad looked at d'Este's intent face, and from him to Vincenzo, waiting expectantly for his answer. "I--I cannot say I have," he answered. "But as I tell you, I heard nothing save rumors----" "And they----?" Conrad fingered his yellow sash uneasily. "One said Modena had fallen----" Ippolito gave a sudden cry. "Modena!" "Aye," said Conrad, regretfully. "And Ferrara and Verona--so I heard----" "Mastino is dead!" cried d'Este, and Vincenzo echoed the cry wildly. "Mastino is dead!" "I know not," said the Count. "I cannot tell--only this, that Visconti marches this way--and once more--a good horse. Vincenzo, Saint Hubert has saved me once--I dare not ask him again!" "Modena fallen," murmured d'Este, unheeding Conrad's words. "And Verona--Mastino dead--Visconti marches on Novara!" "My father, we are lost indeed!" cried Vincenzo, with a white face. "If Mastino be dead----" "_If!_" said the elder D'Este, sternly. "There is no if, Vincenzo." The boy looked round bewildered, and his eye fell on Conrad, waiting by the door. "I will give orders for thy horse," he said. "Come with me----" and he led the way from the room. Conrad paused in the door, but Ippolito waved him aside sternly. "Fare you well, Count. Vincenzo will see to your needs; meanwhile I have other things to think of--" and he strode past them, swiftly ascending the stairs to the soldiers in the higher chamber of the watch-tower. Vincenzo, leaning on the stair-rail, with very bright eyes, looked after his father, and then toward Conrad with a sudden wistful smile. "I almost would I were to be riding gayly across a summer plain, away--away--this castle has grown gloomy of late--there is horror in the air." He shook the feeling off, speaking gayly. "Well, be glad thou art on thy way, Count Conrad, and in exchange for the horse, take, for my sake, with thee the little page Vittore. He is very young, and not of Lombardy." "Gladly will I," replied Conrad, as they descended the narrow stairs. "And always shall I keep him for thy sake."