"I will save thee if I can," replied Francisco. "Thou art alone?" Conrad moved his head. He was too weak for more. Then a sudden thought shot horror into his face, and he struggled to a sitting posture. "The water!" he gasped out. "The water--from the fountain--thou gave me to drink of that?" Francisco followed in surprise the direction of his glance. "No," he said. "I had it with me; 'twas water and wine too." "Oh!" Conrad sank back. "The water is poisoned--all----" "Poisoned--Visconti's doing!" said Francisco. "How didst thou get in?" whispered Conrad feebly. "Visconti barred all entrances." "I found one unknown to any; canst thou, with my help, walk there?" "I think--I can walk--to safety," was the answer, and the love of life lending him strength, he staggered to his feet, and helped by Francisco and invigorated by the wine, made slowly forward. But they had not taken many steps before Francisco well perceived he had rescued a man past helping himself, well-nigh past any help from others. With a sigh Conrad sank speechless into his arms. Francisco looked around him. He had come far from the entrance he had forced, and Conrad, plainly starved and emaciated as he was, was still a man full grown. To leave him and to return to Tomaso would be too dangerous. The place must be under observation. But to seek safety himself and abandon the helpless man was not a thought to occur to Francisco, though, hampered by his dead weight, he would be at any pursuer's mercy, or fall a prey to any ambush; so with stout words of encouragement, and forcing more wine through his lips, he lifted the Count to his shoulder and made as rapidly as he was able to the door beside the lichen. It was a breathless journey, but at last, and unmolested, Francisco gained the wall and laid his burden down. Reconnoitering without, he saw no sign of danger, and, glad of the oncoming dusk, dragged up the man and laid him, at least free, outside the door. The cool air blowing from the water, a few drops more wine, in which Francisco soaked some crumbs of bread he found within his wallet, enabled the rescued man again to move. It was an easy matter now to bring Vittore and Tomaso, who would not be left, and between them Conrad, too spent to put questions, was carried to their shelter and laid on the rough heather couch in the hut, from which one of his own vassals had not long been driven; a poor asylum enough, but one for which he only too gladly exchanged the deadly splendor of his own magnificent abode. "Who is he?" asked Tomaso, in timid surprise. For the first time since their knowledge of him Francisco laughed, and without bitterness. "One of Visconti's victims! It is some poor satisfaction to have rescued two," he said. "I know nothing of him except that it is plainly to be seen he is some person of distinction. We will nurse him to the best of our skill. Tomaso, he may be of use----"