'To make me a pawn in this game of yours?'
'That is to describe yourself unflatteringly. Francesco Busone of Carmagnola is no man's pawn.'
'No, by God! I am glad you perceive that.'
'Should I have explained myself if I did not?' said Bellarion to assure him of a fact of which clearly he was far from sure.
'Tell me why you so schemed and plotted?'
Bellarion sighed. 'To amuse myself, perhaps. It interests me. Facino said of me that I was a natural strategist. This broader strategy upon the great field of life gives scope to my inclinations.' He was thoughtful, chin in hand. 'I do not think there is more in it than that.' And abruptly he asked: 'You'll send that message?'
Carmagnola too considered. There was a dream that he had dreamed, a game that he could play, making in his turn a pawn of this crafty brother captain who sought to make a pawn of him.
'I'll go to Melegnano in person,' he announced.
He went, and there dispelled the fretful suspense in which the Princess Valeria waited for a justice of which she almost despaired.
He dealt in that directness which was the only thing Bellarion found to honour in him. But the directness now was in his manner only.