Servants entered, bearing great candelabra of beaten gold which they set on table and overmantel.

They withdrew, and when the doors opened again, a clank of mail, reaching them from without, increased the astonishment of the company.
This rose yet higher, and left them cold and speechless, when into the chamber stepped the Count of Aquila with a man-at-arms on either side of him, marking him a prisoner.

With a swift, comprehensive glance that took in the entire group about the throne--and without manifesting the slightest surprise at Lodi's presence--Francesco stood still and awaited his cousin's words.
He was elegantly dressed, but without lavishness, and if he had the air of a great lord, it was rather derived from the distinction of his face and carriage.

He was without arms, and bareheaded save for the gold coif he always wore, which seemed to accentuate the lustrous blackness of his hair.

His face was impassive, and the glance as that of a man rather weary of the entertainment provided him.
There was an oppressive silence of some moments, during which his cousin regarded him with an eye that glittered oddly.