"We must get arms—and succor into the city——"
Ippolito looked at him with a proud affection.
"Follow me, Vincenzo."
He opened one of the small doors; it led to a twisting flight of steps, and the two mounted in silence.
At the head of the stairway was a chamber used as an outlook toward—Milan.
"Gaze yonder," said Ippolito, pointing through the narrow arched window.
Vincenzo obeyed, and looking out over the great wide plain, with its white campaniles dazzling in the sunlight, at first saw nothing.
But on the horizon was a silver light, a light that danced and quivered, flecked here and there with red, and dotted about with curious faint smoke wreaths, fires in broad day.
"Visconti's army!" said d'Este. "And those fires the forts and villages Della Scala held—held but yesterday!"