Their doom was in those words and in what they saw; there was no need for more.
"Santa Maria save us!" murmured Vincenzo, with a blanched face. It was all he said—words were poor, there was little enough time for action, none for comment.
Outside could be heard the steady tramp of the sentries, and the hurry of more soldiers to the walls.
"Do they know?" asked Vincenzo, as they descended.
"The soldiers—yes—they are Modenese. The townsfolk—poor wretches—why tell them?"
They watched the other chamber, and after a silence Vincenzo spoke incredulously.
"Conrad said Modena had fallen?"
"It is true," said his father, in a low voice. "And Ferrara—oh!—my cities!"
Vincenzo gave a little gasp of pain.
"And Verona?"