"Guards!" cried the Lady Margherita with tingling cheeks, to the men who stood just within the doorway, "arrest these intruders!—They trouble the Queen's peace."
Unconsciously the men took a step forward—the words had rung out like a command: but Rizzo, with a face of insolent mastery, made a motion which arrested them, and they knew that their impulse had been a momentary madness.
"The Child——" Rizzo began in icy tones, speaking with slow emphasis, his eyes fixed upon the Queen.
The mother sprang to her feet, alert on the instant, her strength surging back tumultuously—every faculty tense.
"The child is safe—while your Majesty is careful to fulfil our pleasure."
"My Lords," cried Dama Margherita, fearlessly, "the writing on this parchment is not true."
The hand of the Chief of Council fell to his sword, as if he would have struck her down—then—remembering that she was but a woman, in spite of her splendid courage, he withdrew it with a shower of muttered oaths.
"It is the writing which Her Majesty will sign to insure the safety of her child," he asserted, in uncompromising tones.
The Queen turned from one pitiless face to the other and knew that there was no hope for her.
"My God, I shall go mad!" she moaned, as she seized the pen with trembling fingers, unconscious that she had spoken: then in a last, desperate appeal, she cried to Fabrici: