.

THE FOOL-AT-ARMS.
That valorous bearing that the Lord Giovanni showed whilst, with Madonna Paola's glance upon him, his fear of seeming afraid was greater than his actual fear of our assailants, he cast aside like a mantle once he was within the walls of his Castle, and under the eyes of none save the page and myself, for I followed idly at a respectful distance.
He stood irresolute and livid of countenance, his eagerness to arm and to lead his mercenaries and his knights all departed out of him.

It was that curiosity of mine to see the sequel to his stout words that had led me to follow him, and what I saw was, after all, no more than I might have looked for--the proof that his big talk of sallying forth to battle was but so much acting.

Yet it must have been acting of such a quality as to have deceived even his very self.
Now, however, by the main steps, he halted in the cool gloom of the gallery, and I saw that fear had caught his heart in an icy grip and was squeezing it empty.

In his irresolution he turned about, and his gloomy eye fell upon me loitering in the porch.