He stepped into the council chamber unannounced, followed solely by Giannotto.
The great gilt ornate room was full of Milanese and foreigners, allies or guests of Visconti.
"You look grave, my lords," cried Visconti, his gray eyes wide, "and fearful. I had not thought you of so poor a courage. Yet, since you are so faint of heart, I come to tell you from my own lips that I ride against Verona to-day! Have you forgotten, my lords, that a Visconti still rules Milan?"
There was no answer from the splendid throng; they had complained much of late—but not to his face.
"Have you no thanks for so much comfort?" laughed Visconti. "Let all those who may care to follow make them ready, and let those who care not—stay to make us welcome from a victory. Come, De Lana."
He turned away with his hand on his favorite captain's arm.
To a man the crowded assembly flocked to follow.
"Ah!" Visconti turned again.
"A crushed foe is scarcely to be feared! Have I not set my standard in the market-place of Verona? Have I not dragged a hostage from Della Scala's palace? Lords of Milan, am I not Visconti?"