"And a pair of turquoise gloves," added Visconti, with a change of tone.
"Are they not worth three hundred ducats?" said Visconti, smiling. "Did not the Pope and Emperor both wish to buy them, and fail?"
Giannotto bowed his head over again and studied the scrip in silence.
He thought, "I know he would betray me for a ducat!--if I were not Visconti."
He turned to the narrow window, and looked out onto the city spreading beneath him.
"The Empire," he muttered to himself. "The Empire and the French--I will awe them and humor them while I must--but let me once gain Carrara--as I shall--I can dispense with them and deal with Della Scala as I list."
He turned from the window to Giannotto, and his face had lost its lines.
"This is a master-stroke of temptation, my lord. You have always found craft a good servant."
"It would not serve me well in thee," said Visconti with a sudden glance. "Now, see to it that parchment is dispatched, Giannotto, and by a trusty messenger, and with no delay."
"I will give it to Ricardo with my own hands, my lord," said Giannotto. "He is the best man we have since Filippo was wounded this morning in a skirmish by the western gate."
"The western gate?" Visconti looked up quickly.
"It was not worth while bringing to your notice, my lord. A band of the enemy's soldiers have been skirmishing there."
"They were beaten off without harm to anyone within the gates?"
"The gates were not forced, nor anyone injured--or I should have acquainted you, my lord," and he waited for possibly some mark of appreciation; but the Duke motioned curtly to the roll he held, and Giannotto crept out with bowed shoulders. As the tapestry fell into place behind him, Visconti approached the black bureau between the windows, and unlocked one of the long drawers.
In its dusky recess lay a gold box, and Visconti took it out, handling it carefully.
The light fell in a straight shaft from the narrow window, on the delicate chasing of the casket, as Visconti placed it on the table, and as he turned the key and the lid flew back, it gleamed on the emeralds and diamonds of an elaborate coronet, exquisitely enameled and pointed.
Every inch was covered with precious stones: each point tapering into a delicate tracery of gold, as fine as lace.