Little by little his look grew fixed, his brow pensive.

He was fancying that Andre might have supped in this very hall on the eve of his tragic end, and he thought how all concerned in that death had either died in torment or were now languishing in prison; the queen, an exile and a fugitive, was begging pity from strangers: he alone was free.

The thought made him tremble; but admiring his own cleverness in pursuing his infernal schemes, and putting away his sad looks, he smiled again with an expression of indefinable pride.

The madman at this moment was scoffing at the justice of God.

But Lello of Aquila, who was waiting at the table, bent down, whispering gloomily-- "Unhappy duke, why did you refuse to believe me?
Fly, while there is yet time." Charles, angered by the man's obstinacy, threatened that if he were such a fool as to say any more, he would repeat every word aloud.
"I have done my duty," murmured Lello, bowing his head; "now it must happen as God wills." As he left off speaking, the king rose, and as the duke went up to take his leave, his face suddenly changed, and he cried in an awful voice-- "Traitor! At length you are in my hands, and you shall die as you deserve; but before you are handed over to the executioner, confess with your own lips your deeds of treachery towards our royal majesty: so shall we need no other witness to condemn you to a punishment proportioned to your crimes.