"Well?" he asked at last; and in his voice there was now a suggestion of
steel beneath the silk. "Do you hesitate?"

"And if I do," I answered, suddenly finding my voice, "I do no more than
might a bolder man. How can I, who am banned by punishment of death,
contrive to penetrate again into the Court of Pesaro and reach the Lady
Lucrezia?"

"That is a matter that I shall leave to the shrewd wit which all Italy
says is the heritage of Boccadoro, the Prince of Fools. Does the task
daunt you?" His glance and voice were alike harsh.

In very truth it did, and I told him so, but in the terms which the
shrewd wit he said was mine dictated.

"I hesitate, my lord, indeed; but more because I fear the frustration of
your own ends--whatever they may be--than because I dread to earn a
broken neck by again adventuring into Pesaro. Would not some other
messenger--unknown at the Court of Giovanni Sforza--be in better case to
acquit himself of such a task?

"Yes, if I had one I could trust," he answered frankly.

"I will be open with you, Biancomonte. There are such grave matters at
issue, there are such secrets confided to that paper, that I would not
for a kingdom, not for our Holy Father's triple crown, that they should
fall into alien hands."

He approached me again, and his slender hand, upon which the sacred