a traitor, sir, is to be given a harsh title, and one, I think, that
could fit no man less than it fits me or any of these my companions.
Will you do me the honour, then, to hear me out, Excellency; and when you
have heard me, judge us. Nay, more than judgment we ask of you, Lord
Count. We ask for guidance that we may save our country from the ruin
that threatens it, and we promise you that we will take no step that has
not your sanction--that is not urged by you."

Francesco del Falco, Count of Aquila, eyed the old noble with a glance
that had changed whilst he spoke, so that from scornful that it had been,
it had now grown full of mild wonder and inquiry. He slightly inclined
his head in token of acquiescence.

"I beg that you will speak," was all he said, and Fabrizio would
forthwith have spoken but that Ferrabraccio intervened to demand that
Aquila should pass them his knightly word not to betray them in the event
of his rejection of the proposals they had to make. When he had given
them his promise, and they had seated themselves upon such rude stools as
the place afforded, Fabrizio resumed his office of spokesman, and
unfolded the business upon which he had invited the Count among them.

In a brief preamble he touched upon the character of Gian Maria Sforza,
the reigning Duke of Babbiano--seated upon its throne by his powerful
uncle, Lodovico Sforza, Lord of Milan. He exposed the man's reckless
extravagances, his continued self-indulgence, his carelessness in matters
of statecraft, and his apparent disinclination to fulfil the duties which
his high station imposed upon him. On all this Fabrizio touched with
most commendable discretion and restraint, as was demanded by the
circumstance that in Francesco del Falco he was addressing the Duke's own
cousin.