Marjorie Bowen

“ Visconti rose so suddenly that the sweep of his long sleeve sent the glasses crashing to the ground, and made Arezzo start.
"It is Isotta d'Este!" he cried. "Mastino's wife!"
"Isotta dead?" cried de Lana, and the words echoed around the room. "How should she be here, and dead?"
"The dead only can answer you," said Visconti. "Now I can recall what 'twas Mastino said—something about her! ”

“ As you say, how should she be dead, and here?"
"How should she be dead?" asked de Lana again. "Yet truly what else——" he paused, keeping back his words, and his glance met the secretary's.
Giannotto was remembering something: the figure of Visconti standing sullen, with a moody face, thinking on another dead woman; "Had she lived I would not have done it!" he had said. The secretary rose; now he understood.
In this triumphant Visconti there was no sign of the spirit that had prompted that murmur, but the secretary understood. ”

“ We will have no seditious spots in the Lombardy I rule. There will be one capital and one ruler," he added sternly. "The d'Estes knew enough to anticipate it."
De Lana was silent.
"And these prisoners, my lord?" asked da Ribera. "What of them?"
"They choke the camp," said another.
"They are partisans of Mastino della Scala, naturally," said Visconti. It was the first time the name had been mentioned, and Visconti's eyes flared to see that there was silence at it.
"Mastino della Scala, I said—they favored him."
"Yes, my lord; him, or the Estes."
"You will put them to the sword." ”

“ Giannotto slipped it into his dress, he hardly knew why—it gave him a feeling of security; it was a long time since Visconti's secretary had been armed, even by so much as this.
"With good horses," said Visconti, drawing on his gloves, "we reach Magenta—when, de Lana?"
"In two days, my lord."
"And Turin?"
"If there is no resistance——" began de Lana.
Visconti laughed.
"Resistance? Lombardy is ours, my good de Lana! Resistance——"
"Is hardly wise," put in da Ribera. ”

“ And the center of it all was Visconti, leaning eagerly over the map, with brocaded mantle thrown back.
"And so to Turin!" Giannotto heard him say through the confusion of voices. "We march next to Magenta."
A dozen voices caught up the word. Giannotto watched them idly.
The sun, flooding the room, made the gold on the wall twinkle and glint, and caught Arezzo's inlaid armor in points of light. ”

“ Slashed sleeves and gorgeous tassels were laid on or swept across the many-tinted marble table, on which there stood gold and silver goblets of curious shape, and glasses, milk-white, azure, or painted, some delicate as flower-bells, others with twisted stems clasped by a snake with emerald eyes. ”