"Aye, my lord. They are valuable. It is enough that Alberic da Salluzzo has been lost to us——"
"They shall yet hang for it," said Visconti.
With rapid steps he returned to his seat, flung himself into it, clutching the arms with vice-like grip.
"He cannot do anything, Giannotto," he said. "He cannot rouse the Estes—against me! No; when Della Scala ruled nine cities, and his revenue was equaled only by the kings of France—I stripped him, I routed him. And now!" he smiled and his eyes widened, "he is a beggar. Perhaps it is not so ill that he lives to know it. It is a better revenge than any I could have devised, Delia Scala a beggar, a hanger-on at his kinsman's court, deafening his ears with unwelcome prayers, sinking into contempt before the people who once owned him lord!"
Giannotto was silent. He could not imagine Mastino della Scala a beggar at any prince's court.
But Visconti, blinded and absorbed by hatred, continued unheedingly:
"Carrara also, the Duke of Padua, is too necessary to the Estes. They cannot stand without him. Will he, thinkest thou, ever be won over to side with Mastino? No, Giannotto, I do not fear him. Let Della Scala live robbed of all,—and with Count Conrad as an ally!"
"Shall we then dismiss him, my lord?" ventured Giannotto smoothly; "he who is not worth fearing is not worth considering."
He seated himself at the low table as he spoke, his watchful eyes on Visconti, and drew some papers from the flat bag at his side.
The Duke returned no answer. In truth he heard not what was said, but leaned back in his chair and fell to thinking. The secretary, looking at his brooding face, shuddered a little at what his master's thoughts might be. He wondered also as to that green bracelet that Visconti had concealed.