reticence. No, no!" he checked himself hastily. "He's dead, and the
secret of this treason, as well as the names of the traitors, have
perished with him. Yet I am a clement man, Francesco, and sorely though
that dog has wronged me by his silence, I thank Heaven for the grace to
say--God rest his vile soul!"

The Count flung himself into a chair, as much to dissemble such signs of
relief as might show upon his face, as because he wished to sit.

"But surely Masuccio left you some information!" he exclaimed.

"The very scantiest," returned Gian Maria, in chagrined accents. "It was
ever the way of that secretive vassal. Damn him! He frankly told me
that if I knew, I would talk. Heard you ever of such insufferable
insolence to a prince? All that he would let me learn was that there was
a conspiracy afoot to supplant me, and that he was going to capture the
conspirators, together with the man whom they were inviting to take my
place. Ponder it, Francesco! Such are the murderous plans my loving
subjects form for my undoing--I who rule them with a rod of gold, the
most clement, just and generous prince in Italy. Cristo buono! Do you
marvel that I lost patience and had their hideous heads set upon spears?"

"But did you not say that two of these conspirators were brought back
captive?"

The Duke nodded, his mouth too full for words.

"Then, at their trial, what transpired?"

"Trial? There was no trial." Gian Maria chewed vigorously for a moment.