The Ginori, an ancient and lordly family, intimately connected with the Medici, claimed satisfaction at the hands of the Grand Duke for what they chose to call the assassination of their young relative.  Francesco judged that the liaison between his sister-in-law and the so-called “assassin” required regulation, especially as she had failed to comply with his previous admonition.  The two offences would be best judged by the banishment of the cavaliere, whose rank forbade his inclusion in a monastery.  Consequently Bernardino was sent off, under guard, to a fortress in the Isle of Elba, and Princess Eleanora was confined, during the Grand Duke’s pleasure, to her apartments in the Medici Palace.

The old tale that “love laughs at locks” had now one fresh telling!  An amorous correspondence began between the parted lovers, which was carried on for a considerable time without detection.  At last there came a day when the secret was out, through the carelessness of Bernardino’s brother Filippo, the intermediary in the love affair.  Watching his opportunity of dropping a letter into the hand of the Princess, as she passed through the corridor connecting the Pitti and the Uffizi—­just completed by Duke Cosimo’s orders—­Captain Filippo had the curiosity to read the billet-doux himself.  He failed to notice that a brother officer was standing close by, who also glanced at the contents of the letter.

Captain Giulio Caccini was Master of Music and conductor of the palace orchestra, and when he had a favourable opportunity he confided to his master what he had seen—­doubtless he considered himself well on towards the receipt of a reward for his mean services.

Francesco was furious:  he might, as Sovereign, have his love passages with whom he willed—­although be it said, truly, he had one and only one love, Bianca Cappello Buonaventuri—­but he could not tolerate any amours between a princess of his house and a subaltern of his guard.

Captain Bernardino was ordered to be brought back to Florence immediately, and, after a stormy interview with the Grand Duke, he was consigned to the condemned-criminal dungeon of the Bargello.

The same night the prisoner’s cell was entered by a Frate—­a confessor, who acquainted him that he had been sentenced to death!  Expostulation was vain, and his asseverations of innocence and promises of submission to the Grand Duke’s will were rudely interrupted by the appearance of the headsman!  Forced upon his knees, the unhappy young officer mumbled out his confession, and then the executioner, passing a stout cord about his throat, strangled him—­struggling and crying out piteously for mercy!

When Antinorio was dead, Francesco was informed, and, sending for Eleanora, he told her what had become of her second lover, and warned her that a like fate might easily be hers if Don Piero was made acquainted with the intrigue—­surely a fell prophecy of coming tragedy!  Piero, too, was sent for to the palace, and again reprimanded for his evil life and for his cruel desertion of his charming young wife.  He took his brother’s words in an entirely wrong sense, abused him soundly for his interference, and left his presence in a violent passion.