He had been a fool indeed to plague himself with fears when he had first heard of Gian Maria's coming.

Properly viewed, it became a service Gian Maria did him--whether they remained, or whether they went.
Love has no stronger promoter than a danger shared, and a week of such disturbances as Gian Maria was likely to occasion them should do more to advance his suit than he might hope to achieve in a whole month of peaceful wooing.

Then the memory of Francesco set a wrinkle 'twixt his brows, and he bethought him how taken Valentina had been with the fellow when first she had beheld him at Acquasparta, and of how, as she rode that day, she had seen naught but the dark eyes of this Knight Francesco.
"Knight Francesco of what or where ?" he muttered to himself.

"Bah! A nameless, homeless adventurer; a swashbuckling bully, reeking of blood and leather, and fit to drive such a pack as Fortemani's.

But with a lady--what shalt such an oaf attain, how shall he prevail ?" He laughed the incipient jealousy to scorn, and his brow grew clear, for now he was in an optimistic mood--perhaps a reaction from his recent tremors.
"Yet, by the Host!" he pursued, bethinking him of the amazing boldness Francesco had shown in the courtyard, "he has the strength of Hercules, and a way with him that makes him feared and obeyed.