"Only, my lord, what you said," he stammered, "about keeping watch upon the Duke of Padua."
"So you were left as a spy?" sneered Vincenzo, "is that it? Make haste, Count Conrad, hurry to Carrara's tent as you were told, and see what he is doing."
Conrad, flushed with wine, allowed the boyish sneer to goad him into fury.
"I play the spy at no one's bidding," he said. "I do not leave my tent to-night." And he flung himself on the couch.
"But what did the Duke order? It will go ill with you when he hears of disobedience," sneered Vincenzo.
"Let it go well or ill, I will not leave my tent to-night on any errand, save I choose." And Count Conrad's words were heard by another than Vincenzo and Vittore, Giacomo Carrara, who listened outside.
The storm-wind was beginning to howl and the rain to fall in heavy drops, but the Duke of Padua only thanked his good fortune for such propitious weather, as he turned away and made rapidly toward the castle to question the prisoners.