Next, from the wall he took down a cross-bow, and from a corner a moulinet for winding it.

With his foot in the stirrup he made the cord taut and set the shaft in position.
And now he closed the door, and, going to the window, which was little more than an arrow-slit, he shouldered his arbalest.

He took careful aim in the direction of the ducal tent, and loosed the quarrel.

He watched its light, and it almost thrilled him with pride in his archery to see it strike the tent at which he had aimed, and set the canvas shuddering.
In a moment there was a commotion.

Men ran to the spot, others emerged from the tent, and amongst the latter Gonzaga recognised the figures of Gian Maria and Guidobaldo.
The bolt was delivered to the Duke of Babbiano, who, with an upward glance at the ramparts, vanished into the tent once more.
Gonzaga moved from his eerie, and set wide the door of the tower, so that his eyes could range the whole of the sun-bathed ramparts.
Returning to his window, he waited impatiently for the answer.