"I cursed myself for my weakness, but could have kissed his feet. Then what happened I hardly know. As in a dream I saw Giannotto lay a tempting feast; a banquet for one or two, such as I and Visconti had often shared together! I blessed him with uplifted hands! When all was set, he turned to me, still smiling. "'Thou askedst for food,' he said; 'I would not refuse thy last request, Count Conrad.' "And he flung one of the hounds a piece of meat: it ate and died! Without a word they turned and left me, the feast still spread, the dead hound by the table. Then methinks I lost my wits, and went mad with rage and agony. When my ravings ceased, I found myself, my hands upon the food, it almost at my lips. But I resisted; I set it from me; and then my eyes wandered round the room in blank despair. I saw--the key still in the lock! I thought it was a vision, a trick of Satan. I crawled toward the door: I dragged myself along. It was no vision: they had gone and left me free!" Conrad paused; Tomaso, an absorbed listener, drew a deep breath. "What did it mean, lord?" he asked. "Ask me not, Tomaso," answered Conrad with a lighter air. "They were so certain I should eat and die, it made them careless, or Giannotto had a throb of pity. Many kindnesses the knave has had from me. I know not what it was; such things will happen. I have heard of them when in my native land from prisoners of war. But all I knew and cared for was that I was free! At first, indeed, it seemed to promise little good. I crept, I know not how, into the garden--into the air: the sky was overhead: it gave me strength: let me but get to the water and I would live.... As by a miracle I reached the fountain." Again Conrad paused, shuddering at remembrance of his anguish. "The fountain?" repeated Tomaso, absorbed in the relation. "The fountains were poisoned, boy; you know it; it boots not talking of it; it is all past and done with, and I live, a sound, free man, thanks to our brave Veronese; though in sooth how he could have saved me, had he not been a giant, I leave to my good angel to think out"; and Conrad laughed. Tomaso looked surprised. He could not understand how Conrad could so easily shake off his hatred of Visconti, save when the thought was forced on him. A silence fell which Conrad was again the first to break. "The Lady Valentine," he said, following his own train of thought, rather than addressing his companion, "does she ever think of me?" Tomaso inwardly wondered how much he thought of her. Save when telling his tale to Francisco, this was the only time he had named her. It seemed as if his sufferings and his love alike were to lie lightly on his mind. "They say in Milan Lady Valentine is to marry the Duke of Orleans," Tomaso ventured presently. "They say!" echoed Conrad with scorn. "The Frenchman is not even yet in Italy. Much may have happened ere he is." Tomaso rose and looked from the doorway anxiously.