“Thanks, good Hugo--retire a moment, and I will be my own man again--let me think,” he muttered in a half-whisper as the Sentinel retired--“Its like a dream--and yet the reality presses on my brain like a weight of lead. I feel no joy in my lordship. Three little days--Saints of Heaven--behold the change! Three days ago, a poor Page, journeyed with a band of gallant soldiers! He disappeared, no one save himself knew whither. He came to this castle in his Palmer’s rags and perilled his life to rescue his Ladye-love. He was discovered--he already beheld the object of omen, held above his head--he expected the axe--and Sancta Maria! A coronet fell glittering at his feet. _His_ son--_his_ son! Great God how dark the mystery! My brain whirls--the wine, ha, ha--the wine.”
“Sir Sentinel”--arose the voice of the Herald without--“Wilt thou bear this scroll to the Lord Aldarin?”
“And _she_ is yet imprisoned! _He_ my father! As God lives I’m bound to stand by him to the death! Robin’s story--is it, is it true? The dark hints of the men-at-arms, with their leader Sir Geoffrey--might not this trumpet peal serve to unravel their meaning? The wine gives me nerve--my brain whirls no more. And Adrian and Annabel--must I desert their cause? Methinks I feel my heart strings crack, at the very word! And _he_ is my father; _he_ loads me with favors, burdens me with kindness--” the half crazed Guiseppo looked around the confined chamber with a fixed and steady eye--“_I will stand by my father Aldarin to the death_”.
“Sir Warden, this delay is far from courteous--For the last time, wilt thou bear the scroll?”
“Let the men-at-arms be ranged, along the castle gate--“spoke the determined voice of Lord Guiseppo, as with a steady step and unfaltering manner he issued from the lower chamber of the Warden’s Tower--“Call the men-at-arms of his Grace of Florence, now loitering in the halls of the castle, call the vassals of Albarone, silently yet hastily hither! Away Hugo--and thou Sir Huntsman! Let it be done without delay. Balvardo--mark ye, when I give the word let the drawbridge be lowered and the portcullis raised. We shall see what manner of men are these strangers--the Lord Aldarin shall judge them by their scroll!”