'You thought to checkmate them. But they perceived the move you have overlooked, whereby they checkmate you. This proves what already I have told you: that they serve none but themselves. You and your brother are but the instruments with which they go to work. There was only one way to frustrate them; one only way to serve and save you. That way I sought.'
She interrupted him there. 'You sought? You sought?' Her voice held bewilderment, unbelief, and even some anger. 'Why should you desire to save or serve me? If I could believe you, I must account you impertinent. You were a messenger, no more.'
'Was I no more when I disclosed to you the true aims of these men and the perils of your association with them?'
'Aye, you were more,' she said bitterly. 'But what were you?'
'Your servant, madonna,' he answered simply.
'Ah, yes. I had forgotten. My servant. Sent by Providence, was it not?'
'You are bitter, lady,' said Bellarion.
'Am I?' She turned at last to look at him. But his face was no more than a faint white blur. 'Perhaps I find you too sweet to be real.'
He sighed. 'The rest of my tale will hardly change that opinion. Is it worth while continuing?' He spoke without any heat, a little wistfully.
'It should be entertaining if not convincing.'