“Heavens!” she said to herself softly, “is he not the exact resemblance of Alfonso’s picture?”

“Take him to the court-yard, and sever his head from his body!” was the sentence of Manfred.

Matilda fainted.  Father Jerome, horrified at the catastrophe his imprudence had occasioned, begged for the prisoner’s life.  But the undaunted youth received the sentence with courage and resignation.  In the court-yard he unbuttoned his collar, and knelt down to his prayers.  As he stooped, his shirt slipped down below his shoulder and disclosed the mark of a bloody arrow.

“Gracious heavens!” cried Jerome, “it is my child! my Theodore!”

“What may this mean? how can it be thy son?” said Manfred.

“Spare him, good Prince!  He is my lawful son, born to me when I was Count of Falconara; Sicily can boast of few houses more ancient—­is it possible my lord can refuse a father the life of his long-lost child?”

“Return to thy convent,” answered Manfred after a pause; “conduct the Princess hither; obey me in what else thou knowest; and I promise thee the life of thy son.”

“Rather let me die a thousand deaths!” cried Theodore.

Ere Manfred could reply, a brazen trumpet, which hung without the gate of the castle, was suddenly sounded.

III.—­The Knight of the Sword

It was announced that a herald sought to speak with Manfred, who ordered him to be admitted.

“I came,” said the herald, “from the renowned and invincible Knight of the Gigantic Sabre.  In the name of his lord, Frederic, Marquis of Vicenza, he demands the Lady Isabella, daughter of that Prince whom thou hast barely got into thy power; and he requires thee to resign the principality of Otranto, which thou hast usurped from the said Lord Frederic, the nearest of blood to the last rightful lord, Alfonso the Good.  If thou dost not instantly comply with these just demands, he defies thee to single combat to the last extremity.”

Injurious as this challenge was, Manfred reflected that it was not his interest to provoke the Marquis.  He knew how well founded the claim of Frederic was.  Frederic’s ancestors had assumed the style of Princes of Otranto; but Manfred’s family had been too powerful for the house of Vicenza to dispossess them.  Frederic had taken the cross and gone to the Holy Land, where he was wounded, made prisoner, and reported to be dead.  Manfred had bribed Isabella’s guardians to deliver her up to him as a bride for Conrad, hoping to unite the claims of the two houses.

“Herald,” said Manfred, “tell thy master that ere we liquidate our differences with the sword, I would hold converse with him.  Bid him welcome to the castle.”

In a few minutes the cavalcade arrived.  Pages and trumpeters were followed by foot-guards; then came knights with their squires; then an hundred gentlemen bearing an enormous sword, and seeming to faint under its weight; then the knight himself, in complete armour, his face entirely concealed by his visor.