"With his knowledge and his full consent, my lord," replied Leonora, not a little offended at his close questions and harsh manner before so many witnesses. It must indeed be recollected that Ramiro d'Orco, though cold in manner towards his child, had left her almost to the guidance of her own will, before we can judge of the feelings created by Julian's assumption of authority.
"Well, it is all well, I suppose," replied the old man, "and now, Signora, can you tell me what it is your young protector wants to say to me. Doubtless, you know he wrote to his majesty, here present, requesting to be permitted to fall back in order to confer with me."
"He sought your counsel and directions, my lord," replied Leonora; "the course of the army had been changed, and marched by Parma instead of Bologna. My father had also gone on from Bologna, where I was to have joined him, to Rome, which Lorenzo thought not a fit place for me, and there were many other reasons which he can explain better than I can, why he thought you, sir--reverend as you are, by life and profession--should be consulted as soon as we heard you were near."
A well-pleased smile came upon the face of the old man. "That is as it should be," he said, in a much mollified tone; "this young Lorenzo, my child, seems, as I have heard he is, a youth of great discretion and judgment. You must not think my questions hard; they spring from regard for Ramiro's child. I will see your young lover, and talk with him more."
While this conversation had been passing between the Cardinal of St. Peter's and Leonora, the young King of France had cast himself upon one of the cottage settles, and was speaking quietly with the Duke of Montpensier, D'Entragues, and some other officers who had come with him; but he had heard several of the questions of the cardinal, and he now joined in saying, "You estimate too lightly, my Lord Cardinal, the chivalry of our French knights. Lorenzo Visconti has been brought up at our court, and when a beautiful lady like this is entrusted to his charge, he looks upon her by the laws of chivalry as a sacred relic which he has to bear to some distant shrine."
"No reason for his not kissing the relic," said De Vitry, in a low tone, "indeed, it were but a becoming act of devotion--but who comes here running like a deer?--One of your Majesty's pages; now God send nothing has gone wrong."
"What is it, Martin de Lourdes?" asked the king, as the boy bounded up.
"There is a horseman coming at full speed from the town, sire," said the youth, "he looks like the Seigneur de Visconti, and Monsieur de la Tremouille thought it best to let you know."
"But Lorenzo had dismounted," said the king; "his horse, with the rest of the troop, are up the pass there."
"He could easily find one in the town, sire," said Montpensier. But while they were discussing the matter, Lorenzo himself rode up, and dismounted a few steps from the spot where the king was seated. His surcoat was rent and torn; his crest and helmet hacked with blows, and in one place dented in; but there was no blood or sign of injury about him, and his face was flushed with haste and excitement.