openly as the duke they would have govern them and defend their homes.
In the sacred name of the people, then," the old man concluded, rising,
and speaking in a voice shaken by emotion, "and with the people's voice,
of which we are but the mouthpiece, we now offer you the crown of
Babbiano. Return with us to-night, my lord, and to-morrow, with but
twenty spears for escort, we shall ride into Babbiano and proclaim you
Duke. Nor need you fear the slightest opposition. One man only of
Babbiano--that same Masuccio whom you tell us that you saw to-night--
remains faithful to Gian Maria; faithful because he and the fifty Swiss
mercenaries at his heels are paid to be so. Up, my lord! Let your own
good sense tell you whether an honest man need scruple to depose a prince
whose throne knows no defence beyond the hired protection of fifty
foreign spears."

A silence followed that impassioned speech. Lodi remained standing, the
others sat, their eager glances turned upon the Count, their ears
anxiously alert for his reply. Thus they remained for a brief spell,
Aquila himself so still that he scarcely seemed to breathe.

He sat, gripping the arms of his chair, his head fallen forward until his
chin rested on his breast, a frown darkening his lofty brow. And whilst
they waited for his answer, a mighty battle was fought out within his
soul. The power so suddenly, so unexpectedly, thrust within his reach,
and offered him if he would but open his hands to grasp it, dazzled him
for one little moment. As in a flash he saw himself Lord of Babbiano.
He beheld a proud career of knightly deeds that should cause his name and
that of Babbiano to ring throughout the length and breadth of Italy.
From the obscure state that it was, his patriotism and his skill as a
condottiero should render it one of the great Italian powers--the rival
of Florence, of Venice or Milan. He had a vision of widened territories,