She regarded him with icy contempt. Then she turned to the revellers.
"Since Benilo has dared to cross swords with me," she cried, "though I despise him and all of you, I accept the challenge, if there is one in this company who will confirm that it was Eckhardt who discomfited Vitelozzo."
From the background of the hall, where he had sat a silent listener, there came forward an individual in the gaudy attire of a Roman nobleman. He was robust and above the middle height, and the lineaments of his coarse face betrayed predominance of brute instincts over every nobler sentiment.
"Vitelozzo! Vitelozzo!" the guests shouted half amazed, half amused.
The robber-baron nodded as he faced Theodora on the edge of the circle.
"I have listened to your discourse," he snarled curtly. "For your opinions I care not. And as for the skullion to whom I gave in,—out of sheer good will,—ha, ha!—may the devil pull the boots from his legs!—'twas no meaner a person than he, at whose cradle the fiend stood sponsor, Eckhardt—the general—but I will yet have the girl, I'll have her yet!"
And with a vigorous nod Vitelozzo took up a brimming decanter and transported himself into the background whence he had arisen.
His word had decided the question.
For a moment there was an intense hush. Then Theodora spoke:
"Eckhardt of Meissen, the commander of the German hosts, shall come to my court! He shall be as one of yourselves, a whimpering slave to my evil beauty! I will it,—and so it shall be!"