Love-at-Arms

had been Fanfulla's c

, and with that grimness that takes the pl

him rose the others, looking to their weapon

had heeded your warning! Masuccio it will b

d of them," said Ferrabraccio. "An

mended, resuming his hat and loo

hey have knowledge that six traitors met here to-night to conspire against the throne of Gian Maria, at least, I'll swear, it is not known that you were to have met us. His Highness may conjecture, but he cannot know for

il his face was hidden in his long white hair, he imprinted a kis

our horses?"

who would dare ride them at

A broken neck is the worst that can befall us, and I would as lief break mine

irgin!" roared Ferrabra

hich they come," Fanfulla remonst

Ferrabraccio gaily. "They are on foot, and we'll sweep over the

ses, and we are seve

said Francesco, "I'

command of the enterprise. "Let our St. Michael bring up th

ly worth. "Were the season other, Ferrabraccio, I could crave leave to show you how much of youth there is still left in me. But--" He paused. His angry eyes had alighted upon the

oth the Count

le me. It will not occur to them that one was left behind. They will think only

hey were all mounted and ready for that fearful ride. The night was dark, yet not too dark. The sky was cloudless and thickly starred, whilst a minguant moon he

ight be scanned-as well as in such a light it was to be discerned. The tramp of feet had now grown louder and nearer, and with it came the clank of armour. In front of them lay the path which sloped, for a hundred yards or more, to the first corner. Below them, on the right, the path agai

over the edge of the cliff. Besides, in such a strait our horses may fail us, and refuse the ground. In any event, we shall not descend upon them

ait," was the ready answer. And what

Body of Satan! It was a madness to hav

etreated down the cliff

it is. I should like to be buried at Sant' Angelo, Lord Count," he continued whimsically. "It will be conveniently near;

murmured the voice o

hey halted now, so that the waiting party almost deemed itself observed. But it soon became clear that the halt was to the end that the

atures. Then rising in his stirrups, and raising his sword on high, he let his voice be heard again.

. Michael an

ith their pikes; assuring them with curses that they had but to deal with half-dozen men. But the mountain echoes were delusive, and that thunder of descending hooves seemed to them not of a half-dozen

asuccio's remaining men strove lustily to stem this human cataract, now that they realised how small was the number of their assailants. They got their partisans to work, and for a

it round and let it descend where least it was expected, laying about him with his sword at the same time. In vain they sought to bring down his charger with their pikes;

e horse's belly. Francesco made a wild attempt to save the roan that had served him so gallantly, but he was too late. It came down to impale itself upon that waiting partisan. With a hideous scream the horse sank upon its slayer, crushing him beneath its mighty weight, and hurling its rider forward on to the ground. In an instant he was up and had turned, for all that he was half-stunned by his fall and weakened by the loss of blood from a pike-thrust in the

me, Excellency

lf-swinging from his stirrup. At last, when they had covered a half-mile in this fashion, and the going had grown easier, they halted that the Count might mount behind his companion, and as they now rode along at an easier pace Francesco realised that he and Fanfulla were the only two that had come through that ugly place. The gallant Ferrabraccio, hero of a hundred strenuous battles, had gone t

of the Metauro, and thus, towards the second hour of night, they gained the territ