"She is half distraught," said Valentine. "Beggary is no small matter, messer. We will be quiet, though, I promise you, until the Duke is past——" And to Isotta at her side she whispered, holding her hand tight, "Thou wilt ruin all; control thyself."
But the unfortunate Isotta was calm enough now; she followed Valentine without resistance.
And now Carrara's army had reached the gates, and fell back to await Visconti. The whole city was in tumult, the streets filling with excited people; there was mad shouting, the clash of arms. "A Visconti! a Visconti!"
"We shall be crushed to death," said Adrian. "I must find you shelter, lady," and he looked around eagerly.
"The Duke—the Duke!" and the great gates began to open.
"It is useless!" cried Valentine, "and as well die this way as another."
"There is a door here," said Isotta; and turning with difficulty, they saw indeed a door, deep set in the wall and closely shut.
In desperation, Adrian knocked loudly. "A Visconti!" shouted the soldiers. "A Visconti!"
They were fast being hemmed in by the crowd, soldiers were pouring through the gates in companies, strange soldiers, the new allies; and as Valentine beheld them in strength and numbers, and heard them shout her brother's name, she felt her last desperate throw was lost.