Old one-eyed Baldo, Cercamorte's lieutenant, voiced the general sentiment when he muttered into his cup: "This house has become a tomb, and I have a feeling that presently there may be corpses in it.

Then one morning Cercamorte said to Baldo, his lieutenant: "I am off for a talk with Nicolotto Muti.

The reception over, old Baldo spoke with the crone who served Madonna Gemma as maid: "I do not know what this pretty little fellow has in mind.

Come here, Baldo.

One-eyed Baldo also groaned at these goings-on, and swallowed many angry speeches.

Baldo came to the gate.

So Baldo led the sorcerer to Cercamorte, and for a long while those two talked together in private.

To Baldo, after some mysterious nods and winks, he confided: "Everything will be different when she is well again.

" "No doubt," snarled old Baldo, scrubbing at his mail shirt viciously.

" Baldo raised his shoulders, pressed his withered eyelids together, and answered, in disgust: "God pity you, Cercamorte!

Old Baldo gave him a coat of mail.

"Who are these people?" asked Baldo, while rapidly shooting at them with a bow.

Well, my Baldo, before they make an end of us shall we show them some little tricks?" "You have said it, Cercamorte.

" The crone brought two helmets, which Lapo and Baldo put on.

At his back stood Baldo, his helmet caved in, his mail shirt in ribbons, his abdomen slashed open.

"How is it with you?" puffed Lapo, putting his arm round Baldo's neck.

" Lapo Cercamorte hung his head and sobbed, "My old Baldo, my comrade, it is my folly that has killed you.

But we have had some high times together, eh?" Lapo, weeping aloud from remorse, patted Baldo's shoulder and kissed his withered cheek.

"Lady," said Baldo, feebly, "can you spare me a bit of your veil?

When he had locked the door and with Foresto's slow help braced some pike-shafts against it, he tried to make Baldo lie down.

Baldo, clinging to the casement-sill on bending legs, summoned Cercamorte to look at the dancing figure.

" "Give me a bow and an arrow," cried Baldo, with a rattle in his throat.

Baldo, sinking back into Cercamorte's arms, at last allowed himself to be laid down.

"All my good men," he murmured, "and my dear gossip, Baldo!

He quarrelled with Baldo.