"Yourself, Visconti," he returned calmly. "The army only waits for me to march on Milan, leaving Della Scala stripped of half his force. You will go with it, Visconti, as my prisoner. My army will conduct you into Milan—where I shall not leave you till the terms I offer are fulfilled. Then, Visconti, but not till then, we will together ruin Della Scala."
Visconti was silent.
"Come," continued Carrara, "shall it be so—or will you wait and meet Della Scala and Count Conrad?"
"I accept your terms," said Gian, and rose to his feet. "I accept, Carrara."
Giacomo's eyes shone. With trembling fingers he unbuttoned his long black velvet cloak and flung it on Visconti's shoulders.
"We must hasten; even now the tipsy German may think to visit the castle." And he selected a key from the bunch in his hand, and advanced toward the inner door. Visconti started forward, with staring eyes.
"Not that way!" he cried.
Carrara turned in surprise, the key in the lock.
"'Tis the only way, Visconti. Are you thinking we could pass unnoticed, you and I together?"
Gian, deathly white, sank back obstinately against the wall.