I dropped my glance, browbeaten for an instant. Then I looked at him again, and smiled.
“You are but a poor coward, Messer Cosimo,” said I, “to use a shadow as a screen. You know that nothing can be proved against me unless Giuliana speaks, and that she dare not for her own sake. There are witnesses who will swear that Gambara went to Fifanti's house that night. There is not one to swear that Gambara did not kill Fifanti ere he came forth again; and it is the popular belief, for his traffic with Giuliana is well-known, as it is well-known that she fled with him after the murder—which, in itself, is evidence of a sort. Your Duke has too great a respect for the feelings of the populace,” I sneered, “to venture to outrage them in such a matter. Besides,” I ended, “it is impossible to incriminate me without incriminating Giuliana and, Messer Pier Luigi seems, I should say, unwilling to relinquish the lady to the brutalities of a tribunal.”
“You are greatly daring,” said he, and he was pale now, for in that last mention of Giuliana, it seemed that I had touched him where he was still sensitive.
“Daring?” I rejoined. “It is more than I can say for you, Ser Cosimo. Yours is the coward's fault of caution.”
I thought to spur him. If this failed, I was prepared to strike him, for my temper was beyond control. That he, standing towards me as he did, should dare to mock me, was more than I could brook. But at that moment there spoke a harsh voice just behind me.
“How, sir? What words are these?”
There, very magnificent in his suit of ivory velvet, stood the Duke. He was leaning heavily upon his cane, and his face was more blotched than ever, the sunken eyes more sunken.
“Are you seeking to quarrel with the Lord of Mondolfo?” quoth he, and I saw by his smile that he used my cousin's title as a taunt.
Behind him was Cavalcanti with Bianca leaning upon his arm just as I had seen her that day when she came with him to Monte Orsaro, save that now there was a look as of fear in the blue depths of her eyes. A little on one side there was a group composed of three of the Duke's gentlemen with Giuliana and another of the ladies, and Giuliana was watching us with half-veiled eyes.
“My lord,” I answered, very stiff and erect, and giving him back look for look, something perhaps of the loathing with which he inspired me imprinted on my face, “my lord, you give yourself idle alarms. Ser Cosimo is too cautious to embroil himself.”