“See that a Mass is said for his soul to-morrow,” he solemnly bade him.
As if the act had served to pacify him and restore him to his senses, Gian Maria now stepped forward and asked his cousin, in calmer tones than he had hitherto employed, to make clear the terms on which he would permit him to return to Babbiano within the time to which his people limited him.
“They are no more than that you relinquish your claim to Monna Valentina, and that you find consolation—as I think his Highness of Urbino has himself suggested—in the Lord Guidobaldo's younger niece.”
Before he could reply Guidobaldo was urging him, in a low voice to accept the terms.
“What else is there for you?” Montefeltro ended pregnantly.
“And this other niece of yours——?” quoth Gian Maria lamely.
“I have already passed my word,” answered Guidobaldo.
“And Monna Valentina?” the other almost whined.
“May wed this headstrong condottiero of hers. I'll not withstand them. Come; I am your friend in this. I am even sacrificing Valentina to your interests. For if you persist, he will ruin you. The game is his, my lord. Acknowledge your defeat, as I acknowledge mine, and pay.”
“But what is your defeat to mine?” cried Gian Maria, who saw through Guidobaldo's appreciation of the fact that such a nephew-in-law as Francesco del Falco was far from undesirable in the troublous times that threatened.