Though by far the plainest in attire, his simple leather doublet in marked contrast with Conrad's display and Vincenzo's fashion, he took the head of the council, naturally and unquestioned. So much of the glory of his former greatness still remained to him. "And are your councils ended?" he asked. "I would hasten you, my lords. Still further delay, and Visconti will be first in the field." He paused, and took his seat in the large black chair, looking keenly at their faces. For a moment no one answered, then Giacomo leaned forward with a deprecating smile. "My lord of Verona," he said smoothly, "you ask us to venture everything--and give us five days in which to decide--surely you are not surprised our answer is not quite ready?" Mastino della Scala bit his lip to keep back an angry reply. "Five hours were enough in such a case as this, my lord," he said quietly. Now d'Este spoke hastily. "We have come to a resolution, Mastino--one in which we all agree," and he looked questioningly around upon the others. No one answered, and, taking silence for consent, Ippolito continued: "We will aid thee, Mastino, I and Carrara, and the Duchess of Mantua----" He paused a little nervously, and Giacomo kept his bright black eyes on Mastino's face. "My lord of Ferrara says rightly," he put in smoothly. "I will second him." The note of condescension in the Duke of Padua's voice stung Della Scala sharply; it was only with an effort he controlled himself. "With what will you aid me?" he asked calmly. Still d'Este hesitated, for his proposal was mean even in his own eyes, but Giacomo answered for him in even tones: "We will aid you with an army of ten thousand men, Lord della Scala, to be recruited from Padua, Mantua, and Ferrara; well armed and----" But Della Scala had risen. "Spare thyself a catalogue of their virtue, my lord of Padua," he said. "For I refuse thy offer--one well worthy of a Carrara!" Giacomo paled with anger; his merchant descent was a sore point, and Mastino's words struck home. "Refuse!" exclaimed Ippolito. "Ten thousand men!" Della Scala glanced at him with scorn. "Ten thousand men!" he echoed. "Yes, I refuse ten thousand men. I thought thou once loved me, d'Este, and wert too much of a soldier to dishonor me by such a proposal." "We can make it more--" began Ippolito. "Dost thou not think I can see through this?" interrupted Mastino bitterly. "This offer is but given to get rid of me--a safer way of dismissing me from the court that once cringed to entertain me than a plain refusal. Ten thousand men! I thought better of thee, d'Este." "Then fifty thousand," replied Ippolito, stung by the reproach. "A royal number," put in Conrad, but Della Scala turned on them in fury.