And dragging the escutcheon from amongst that heap of armour, he softly opened his window and flung it far out, so that it dropped with a splash into the moat.

That done, he went to bed, and he, too, fell asleep with a smile upon his lips, and in his mind a floating vision of Valentina.

She needed a strong and ready hand to guide her in this rebellion against the love-at-arms of Gian Maria, and that hand he swore should be his, unless she scorned the offer of it.

And so, murmuring her name with a lingering fervour, of whose true significance he was all-nescient, he sank to sleep, nor waked again until a thundering at his door aroused him.

And to his still dormant senses came the voice of Lanciotto, laden with hurry and alarm.
"Awake, lord! Up, afoot! We are beset.".