"I have had enough of you," said Visconti, and strode down upon her in a white madness of fury, forgetful of all else. "I will clear you from my path—yes, as I did the others." Then he looked at de Lana, and something in the soldier's face told him he would have to kill him first.
"And as I will any who oppose me," he cried, furiously. "Am I not the Duke of Milan? Take thy hand from thy sword, de Lana. Now we will settle scores, Valentine." His hand was lifted, Giannotto turned his face away, and de Lana had thrown himself forward, when a light knock on the door close by broke the moment's silence, and Visconti's hand sank to his side.
"Open!" he cried. "It is the messenger from the Lady Graziosa," and de Lana, eagerly seizing the interruption, flung wide the door.
Visconti looked up and met Valentine's eyes, and she knew how near she was to death.
"My lord," said de Lana, returning, "the Lady Graziosa hath recovered—there is no fear of her life, my lord."
"Ah!" Visconti returned his dagger to its sheath, and Giannotto gave a gasp of relief.
"Take my sister to her apartments, de Lana, and guard her well there—and if any ask for her, say she is under my displeasure——"
The captain turned, glad to take her from the room alive.
"Will you see the messenger, my lord?"
"No," said Visconti, fiercely. "As long as she lives, what care I for the messenger?"