At sight of the red liquor the fury died out of the ruffler's face.
"A long life, a long thirst, a long purse, and a short memory!" was his toast, into whose cryptic meaning Gonzaga made no attempt to pry.

As the fellow set down his cup, and with his sleeve removed the moisture from his unshorn mouth, "May I not learn," he inquired, "whose hospitality I have the honour of enjoying ?" "Heard you ever of Romeo Gonzaga ?" "Of Gonzaga, yes; though of Romeo Gonzaga never.

Are you he ?" Gonzaga bowed his head.
"A noble family yours," returned the swashbuckler, in a tone that implied his own to be as good.

"Let me name myself to you.

I am Ercole Fortemani," he said, with the proud air of one who announced himself an emperor.
"A formidable name," said Gonzaga, in accents of surprise, "and it bears a noble sound." The great fellow turned on him in a sudden anger.
"Why that astonishment ?" he blazed.