i 7 4 JEROME CARDAN 



arrived from Milan with the news of his son's arrest, 

 and a letter from his son-in-law, begging him to come 

 at once. The mark on his hand grew and grew for 

 fifty-three days, gradually mounting up the finger, until 

 the last fatal day, when it extended to the tip of the 

 finger, and shone bright like fiery blood. The morning 

 after Gian Battista's execution the mark had almost 

 vanished, and in a day or two no sign of it remained. 



Cardan hurried to Milan to hear from Bartolomeo 

 Sacco, his son-in-law, the full extent of the calamity. 

 Probably there were few people in the city who did not 

 regard Gian Battista as a worthless fellow, whose death 

 would be a gain to the State and a very light loss to his 

 immediate friends, but Cardan was not of this mind. 

 He turned his back upon his professional engagements 

 at Pavia, and threw himself, heart and soul, into the fight 

 for his son's life. He could not make up his mind as to 

 Gian Battista's recent conduct; if he ate of the cake, 

 he surely could not have put in poison himself, or 

 directed others to do so ; if, on the other hand, he had 

 poisoned the cake, Cardan feared greatly that, in the 

 simplicity of his nature, he would assuredly let his 

 accusers know what he had done. And his mind was 

 greatly upset by the prodigies of which he had recently 

 had experience. For some reason or other he did 

 not visit the accused in prison, or give him any advice 

 as to what course he should follow, a piece of neglect 

 which he cites as a reproach against himself after- 

 wards ; but certain associates of Gian Battista, and 

 his fellow-captives as well, urged him to assert his 

 innocence, a course which Cardan recognized as the 

 only safe one. At the first examination the accused 

 followed this counsel ; at the second he began to waver 

 when the servant deposed that his master had given him 



