Conrad hardly looked at Valentine, whiter than her white dress, gazing vacantly before her; he did not notice the utter change from her former brilliancy, he had no eyes for the overdressed, foppish bridegroom--he was looking at Visconti.
The steps were thickly strewn with flowers; the train of lords and ladies was one blaze of color and gems, still flowing from the church as Visconti came to within three steps of the Count, and Conrad sprang forward before the startled soldier could throw out a hand.
Visconti stopped, and the procession behind him, arrested, stood a flaming band of movement and color. Conrad threw back his hood with a sweeping gesture, thrilled by the excitement of the moment to dare anything. What his motive he could not have told, but it was a fine moment. He caught one glimpse of Valentine's suddenly illumined face, and drew the dagger.
"Another wedding gift!" he cried in ringing tones, and struck Visconti full upon the breast.
Then an utter confusion fell upon Count Conrad. He was seized and pinioned tight amid wild yells, while the dagger, glancing off the armor beneath the soft rose-colored velvet, fell on the steps unheeded.
"Count Conrad?" said Visconti clearly through the babble of voices. "Conrad von Schulembourg?"
"Aye," said Conrad wildly, struggling between the two soldiers who held him. "Complete your triumph, Visconti. I would have killed you; kill me--kill me! You tried before and failed. I have tried and I fail. End it."
He would have added more defiances, but the soldiers hauled him roughly back, and choked the words back into his throat.
"Count Conrad?" asked Valentine, in a clear tone. "Did he say Count Conrad?"
"Take the Duchess on, my lord. I will remain and deal with this crazy friar."
"Surely he needs but little dealing with!" said the Frenchman. "An assassin! there is the gallows ready!"
"There is also your wedding procession waiting," returned Visconti quietly, and he motioned the train onward, and Conrad forward, the eager people in the street all straining every nerve to know what might have happened; appeased by the oncoming train, they gave only half a thought to the little knot pressed round the steps, and what the Duke had paused for.