He was but uttering his thoughts aloud.

'Five years ago,' he said exultingly, 'I rode outside the gates of Verona and challenged della Scala to single combat. He sent his lackey out with a refusal, and in my heart I said: "I will bring that man so low that life shall hold nothing so sweet to him as the thought of meeting me in single fight!" I have succeeded! Isotta d'Este looked past me and laughed, and I said, "She shall live to feel her life within my hand." In that also I have succeeded!

'And three years ago, only three years ago, I stood within this very room, four lives between me and the throne of Milan—four lives, all crafty—and two young. But I—I, the youngest, took my fate and theirs into my hand. I said: "It is for me to reign in Milan—I am the Duke." In that I have succeeded!'

He paused, with dilating eyes and parted lips, intoxicated with pride.

'This ambition is his madness,' thought Giannotto; but he still was silent.

'In another thing,' continued Visconti, and his voice was changed: he breathed softly, and his eyes sparked pleasantly. 'Last May-day I saw the people in the fields, pulling flowers; I knew they were what poets call happy. Among them were two girls, one dark, one fair, and she with the dark hair had her betrothed beside her. They were happy among the happy, they loved each other—and I rode unseen. The may was thick and white, I watched them through the flowers and vowed: "I too will be happy, even as they are happy, though I am Visconti; I will be loved for myself alone; that fair-haired girl shall care for me as her companion for her lover—life shall give me that as well!"

And he rose, triumphant, smiling, resting his hand on the arras that hid the door behind him.

The secretary gazed upon him fascinated.

Lifting the arras, he paused again, and looked back with a smile that transformed his face.

'In that too have I succeeded!' he said melodiously; and, opening the narrow door, he was gone, as always, noiselessly. The secretary shook himself.

'Why does he unburden his soul to me?' he murmured. 'Does he think, because I sit silent, I have no ears, no memory—that I shall forget? "In that too have I succeeded!" Aye, thou hast it all thine own way, Visconti, so far.'

With a slight shrug of the shoulders Giannotto fell to writing.

When his pages were finished, he put them into his bag for the Duke to sign, and grumbling at his absence, stayed, but dared not follow. Presently he decided to take his own dismissal.

As he rose to go he remembered Valentine Visconti, flying through the garden after her secret visit, and he considered if she could bribe him to silence heavily enough to make it worth his while to venture an encounter with her.

Visconti did not stint his sister for money, and she might pay well. Still, dare he let her know he spied?

Then his thoughts went to Isotta d'Este, and he wondered, with some interest, what her fate would be.

In open day Isotta d'Este had been captured; all Europe knew she was his prisoner; Tuscany and the Empire already looked with interest on the Duke of Milan's growing power, and that Duke a usurper. Visconti had to step warily.

Still busy with his thoughts, the secretary had reached the door, when it opened and the ancient Luisa, Isotta's prison attendant and spy, entered, glancing expectantly around.

Giannotto looked at her slowly; he hated her—indeed, he hated most people, but her in particular, for she equalled him in servile cunning and surpassed him in greed.

'I would see the Duke,' she said, looking at him mistrustfully. 'Thou canst not see him,' returned the secretary, 'for he is not here.'

But old Luisa seated herself calmly on one of the black-backed chairs. 'I will not take thy word for what I can or cannot do,' she said. 'I have important tidings for his ear alone.'

Giannotto longingly wondered if it were possible to win her news from her and share in the reward.

'I will get thy news in to the Duke,' he said. 'Trust it to me, and I will see he does not forget who brought it, but 'tis impossible to see him now.'

Luisa smiled.

'I would be my own news-bearer,' she said, and made no movement to go.

'Visconti is in his laboratory,' said Giannotto angrily. 'Whatever thy news, art thou so mad as to think of following him there? Wilt thou not trust it to me?' he added more gently. She shook her head placidly.

'Have thy way,' sneered Giannotto. 'Stay and see the Duke, and be dismissed for having left thy post, and remember there are more eyes on the western tower than thou knowest.'

The old woman looked uneasy, but stubbornly kept her place. And seizing his bag and papers, Giannotto was gone, and the heavy door closed behind him before she could know what was going to happen.

'Giannotto!' she cried in alarm. 'Listen a moment—' And she ran and pushed at the door.

Giannotto opened it a little and showed his smiling, crafty face.

Wilt thou give me the news or wait till the Duke leaves his laboratory and finds thou hast been absent from thy post an hour, perchance more?'

'Take it then,' said Luisa with a cry of vexation. 'But I will repay thee, Giannotto.'

She thrust into his hands a piece of parchment.

'It was left with me by the Lady Valentine to give Isotta d'Este. Now, make what else of it thou canst,' and Luisa shuffled past him, terror overmastering greed. To be locked within that chamber to await the Visconti was what she had not heart for. Moreover, she could tell the Duke another time—and he would listen—how Giannotto had forestalled her.

She shuffled off, and Giannotto in triumph re-entered the chamber. He read the parchment, one of many: 'Della Scala lives'

'And the Lady Valentine conveys it to Isotta d'Este's prison,' mused Giannotto. 'Now, shall I tell my lord that piece of news or no?'

He regarded the two doors, between which Visconti's chair was set, and gently tried them: one was locked, the other opened to the touch. He dared investigate no further, and returning to his chair, sat down to wait. The minutes dragged on, and he fumed with impatience.

Visconti's laboratory was not altogether a secret place.