'I can do more. I can foresee what will happen. Sometimes, Francesco, you leave me wondering where you learnt the art of war, or how ever you came to engage in it.'
They held their discussion in the kitchen of a peasant's house which for the Princess Valeria's sake they had invaded. And the Princess and her brother were its only witnesses. When Carmagnola now moved wrathfully in great strides about the dingy chamber, stamping upon the earthen floor and waving his arms as he began to storm, one of those witnesses became an actor to calm him. The Princess Valeria laid a hand upon one of those waving arms in its gorgeous sleeve of gold-embroidered scarlet.
'Do not heed his taunts, Messer Carmagnola. You have my utter trust and confidence. It is my wish that you should build your bridges.'
Bellarion tilted his chin to look at her between anger and amusement.
'If you are to take command, highness, I'll say no more.' He bowed, and went out.
'One of these days I shall give that upstart dog a lesson in good manners,' said Carmagnola between his teeth.
The Princess shook her head.
'It is not his manners, sir, that trouble me; but his possible aims. If I could trust him ...'
'If you could trust his loyalty, you should still mistrust his skill.'
'Yet he has won great repute as a soldier,' put in Gian Giacomo, who instinctively mistrusted the thrasonical airs of the swaggering Carmagnola, and mistrusted still more his fawning manner towards Valeria.