Then suddenly Francisco's humor changed. He glanced around him at the boy, the youth, scarcely recovered from his fever, the ghastly figure on the ground over which he bent, and fury shook him. Of what use anything against Visconti? "Oh, terrible to be so helpless!" he cried passionately. "We will leave this place. I break my heart in vain against the walls of Milan. I will to Ferrara, to Della Scala's kinsfolk there." "And they will aid thee?" asked Tomaso trembling. Francisco smiled, but this time grimly. "I can but try," he said. "Della Scala was once known and trusted there. And in no case can we stay here!" He pointed down at Conrad. "The place will not be safe for us, let Visconti once discover his victim has escaped him. We will depart to Ferrara, and fall upon Visconti while he is unsuspecting that I--that anyone lives to still animate the Estes against him...." An hour or two later, while Vittore and Tomaso slept, Francisco keeping watch beside him, Conrad woke from a light doze and felt that he had hold on life again. He tried to murmur thanks to his preserver, but the other checked him. "Thou art not of Italy?" he said. "I am Conrad von Schulembourg." "Conrad von Schulembourg!" echoed Francisco in surprise. "Visconti's trusted friend!" "The trusted friend of him who fastened me within my villa yonder to die a lingering death of hunger, or of poisoned food." The drops started on his forehead, he gasped for breath. Francisco soothed and tended him. "Think not of it; get well," he said, as he had said to Tomaso. "Live and help rid the world of the Visconti. He would have thee die a dog's death. Is not life dear to thee?" "Yes, I will live," said Conrad, "and I will take revenge both for my own wrongs and for a woman's sake." Francisco turned quickly and looked at him keenly. "A woman's sake! Thy motive is the same as mine: I too am living--for a woman's sake." Then, at the other's questioning stare, Francisco continued more quietly: "I am from Verona, Count; that will tell thee much. I belonged to Della Scala's court, and barely escaped with life from the sacking of the town. Thou see'st I can for that and other matters more than equal thee in hatred of Visconti." He rose and moving toward the door, looked out. "Oh, I am impatient!" he cried passionately, "to be riding toward Ferrara!" CHAPTER SEVEN "GRAZIOSA'S BRACELET" Tisio Visconti, mounted on a white palfrey, rode slowly through the streets of Milan, a lean figure, with a foolish face and vacant eyes. For the elder Visconti was half-crazed, a fact to which perhaps he owed his life, Gian Galeazzo not fearing his poor disordered intellect enough to deprive him of aught, save his birthright--the sovereignty of Milan. One or two men-at-arms, in splendid livery, rode behind him, and as he passed the people bowed humbly, respecting him solely as the Duke's brother, for Tisio was powerless for good or ill. Some few there were who pitied him.