"Ah!" said Mastino suddenly. "I left it in the chapel!"
Tomaso had already departed for the gauntlet. Mastino, following to the door, saw him stoop and lift it from the ground.
Tomaso handed him the ponderous glove, and, as Mastino took it, he stifled the cry on his lips, and turned away to clasp it to his heart.
For inside his glove, almost hidden in the velvet lining, lay a soft white rose: a sign from heaven.
CHAPTER TWENTY IN THE DUKE'S ABSENCE
"My chance has come," said Valentine.
A day had passed since Visconti had ridden so wildly to the western gate, and as yet he had not returned.
The soldiers, weary and wounded, had reeled that night into the palace courtyards, de Lana at their head, expecting to find Visconti there before them. They had missed him in the wild fray—the Germans had been driven back from the walls without their prisoners—had not the Duke returned?