"It does not," said Visconti, coldly; "but before you proceed any further, answer me one question.-Have you power to conclude a treaty ?"

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Nay, my lord, you press me too hard; under certain conditions which I shall explain, I have powers to conclude."

Visconti threw himself back in his seat with a look of ill-concealed impatience, and listened carelessly until the latter had finished a somewhat lengthy and disconnected speech; the burden of which was, the request of a body of troops to enable his master to finish the war with the Lord of Verona.

"I have listened to your offer," replied Visconti, after a short pause; "you must now hear mine. I will assist your master against La Scala, on the condition that Verona, and the territory belonging to it, shall be mine at the conclusion of the war. Vicenza, with its surrounding territory, to be the share of your master. If you agree to these terms, I engage to furnish three thousand men at arms, to cooperate with the troops of Francesco Carrara. On these terms,

and on these terms only, will I conclude a treaty."

"Your Excellency seems to have forgotten the vast difference betwixt Vicenza and Verona," replied the plenipotentiary, with a look of wellfeigned astonishment; "I submit that if such an unequal division should take place, you pay a sum adequate to make up the difference, either at once, or in the shape of annual tribute.”

"Sir envoy," replied Visconti, in the tone of a man whose resolution was fixed, "you have heard my proposal; I will detain you no longer, but expect your final answer to-morrow."

He looked as if eager to get rid of his talkative visitor; but the envoy had too high an opinion of his powers of persuasion to allow himself to be beaten without exerting them to the utter

most.

"Your highness," he began, "will, upon second thoughts, find that the proposal which you have made, is anything but just to my master. Vicenza, my lord, is but a village; but Verona, Verona, my lord, is a city of palaces: your highness doubtless remembers the famous

boast of Mastino della Scala, the Pericles, the

Augustus of Verona ?"

"Mastino has been in his grave this thirty years," replied Visconti, drily.

"Greatness never dies!" said the courtier, as he became warmer in his argument.

"Mastino

della Scala boasted of having entertained twentythree princes, the greater part of them captives, at the same time, in his palace at Verona."

"And what has that to do with our present business ?"

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'Nay, my lord, I would only draw your highness's attention to the extent, the wealth, and the grandeur of Verona compared with Vicenza."

"I know both the cities well," said Visconti ; "the territory of Verona adjoins my dominions; that of Vicenza your master's. The arrangement I propose is the most convenient for both parties; and if I furnish troops to enable Carrara to finish the war, I will hear of no farther stipulations, no annual tributes, no subsidies.

Sir envoy, you have my final answer."

He rose from his seat as he spoke, to put an

end to all further discussion; and the plenipotentiary, finding him immoveable, at length agreed to his conditions; and a treaty was accordingly concluded betwixt the rulers of Padua and Milan, which had for its basis the ruin of their intervening neighbour, Antonio della Scala of Verona. Little did Carrara think, when he sought the friendship of Visconti, to enable him to accomplish the destruction of his rival, that he had thrown himself into the arms of a far more dangerous enemy.

"Carrara rushes blindly on his own destruction," said Visconti, as the door closed upon the envoy; "this alliance, with all its consequences, is of his own seeking. Well, well, the stars are true to me; Pavia, Milan, Verona are now all mine, and Padua shall be. Carrara must have but a sorry opinion of my wisdom, to send yonder scented ass, with his scraps of college learning to overreach me. Yet, he cannot think me dolt enough to observe a treaty longer than suits my own convenience. Well, Antonio, what's the matter?"

The secretary entered the room rather hurriedly as he spoke, and said in an under tone,

"My lord, General Hawkwood has arrived in Milan, and craves an immediate audience of your highness.'

"Where is he?" replied Visconti, speaking in the same tone.

"On the corridor, without."

T "Admit General Hawkwood instantly," exclaimed his master, in a voice loud enough to be heard outside.

"You may leave us, Antonio," he continued, as the door was thrown open; and Hawkwood, whose dress was disordered, seemingly from the effects of a hard ride, walked into the room.

Nothing could be more striking than the bold, frank hearing of the English adventurer, and the bland and self-collected demeanour of Visconti. Hawkwood was the first to speak;

fixing his eyes on the usurper, who calmly

returned his gaze with a countenance which defied all scrutiny, he began; "I crave pardon of your highness, for appearing before you in my present dress; but the extraordinary news I have just heard will, I trust, appear a sufficient

excuse."