Vincenzo dropped into his seat, seemingly rebuked. "Aid, my father?" he said. "I knew not it was aid Della Scala asked, methought 'twas all!" "My proposal is an army," said Giacomo smoothly. "A small army. Let us see what success Della Scala has with a small army. Our all _is_ much to ask." "What say you to that?" asked Ippolito of his son. "With all my heart," returned Vincenzo. "An army small or large, so long as it rids us of his gloomy face about court." "Thou art an insolent boy," interrupted his father sternly. "At thy sister's wedding thou wert proud that Mastino della Scala stooped to pat thee on the head. The Duke of Verona was once as much greater than are we, Vincenzo, than we are higher than a footman. It goes not with nobility nor with honor to slight the fallen." Vincenzo blushed under his father's rebuke and sat silent. But Giacomo, always ready to smooth things over, turned to the Duchess of Mantua. "And you," he said. "You, lady, what think you of trusting Della Scala with an army?" Julia Gonzaga smiled a little wearily. "Where is he, to speak for himself?" she asked. "We are waiting for him," Ippolito replied. "He said he would be with us. He is late," he added testily. "Doubtless the hour has escaped him," put in Giacomo pleasantly. "The Duke of Verona will not fail us." "He will disappoint us--if he turns up," said Vincenzo under his breath. But Conrad caught the whisper and choked with a suppressed laugh--not that the remark was funny, but that Count Schulembourg was foolish. Ippolito's stern eyes were turned on him. "Is this a council of war?" he asked, "or a gathering of----" "A council of war," interposed Conrad hastily, with his most winning smile. But D'Este looked on him with mistrust; he had no love for the light-hearted German. Still Mastino came not, and Giacomo moved with a great show of patience and forbearance. "'Tis scarcely the way to treat with us," he said. "'Tis treatment good enough for those who bear it," breathed Vincenzo, and Conrad sniffed his orange. Ippolito's brow grew dark; he struck a gong beside him, and a page appeared. "Tell my lord of Verona we wait for him." He turned to the others. "'Tis agreed," he said quickly, "that we furnish Della Scala with a small army--to be contributed between us." Carrara moved in silent assent; in Julia Gonzaga's face a faint scorn showed. A silence fell, broken only by the tapping of d'Este's fingers on the polished table. Then at the farther end of the chamber two pages drew apart the scarlet curtains and Mastino della Scala entered. Conrad, glancing up, wondered how even for a moment he could have mistaken him for aught but what he was, so noble and stately was his bearing. Conrad and the d'Estes moved at his entrance, but slightly, and kept their eyes upon him as he walked to the head of the table and there took his place.