The Duke of Padua smiled.
"Are those the prisoners?" he asked, pointing to a little group of soldiers guarding a few men.
"Yes, my lord. We had almost forced the gates—when a band rushed out and there was a desperate struggle; we were driven back, and these fellows, in the heat of victory, followed too far. Then we turned and had them, and brought them in for ransom. They seemed worth it."
"I will go and view them," said Carrara suddenly, and he cantered his horse toward the little group.
The noise of the prisoners' arrival was spreading, still there was no sign of Count Conrad, and again the treacherous Carrara smiled. But in a moment more the smile had faded. He noticed among the prisoners a face he surely knew.
Prudence was Giacomo Carrara's ruling quality, and helped him now to keep his wits.
"That fellow yonder," he said, pointing, "he with the red hair—who is he? Has he told his quality?"
"'Twas he who led the chase," was the answer, "screaming like a madman. He is the squire of some nobleman, and gave out he thought we had his master captive."
Carrara breathed heavily.