"I care not for a thousand lads. Think of yourself, my lord!" And planning to rouse Antonio without betraying herself, she said, "I distrust this man Luigi. Is he faithful? The Duke can offer great rewards."
"He has served me well. I have no reason to mistrust him," said Antonio.
"Ah, you trust every one!" she cried in passion and in scorn of his simplicity. "You trust Luigi! You trust me!"
"Why not?" said he. "But indeed now I have no choice. For they cannot carry both Jacopo and me up the path."
"Jacopo! You would stay for Jacopo?" she flashed out fiercely.
"If nothing else, yet my oath would bind me not to leave him while he lives. For we of the band are all bound to one another as brethren by an oath, and it would look ill if I, for whom they all have given much, were the first to break the oath. So here I am, and here I must stay," and Antonio ended smiling, and, his foot hurting him while he stood, sat down again and rested against the rock.
It was now late, and evening fell; and Venusta knew that the Duke's men should soon be upon them. And she sat down near Antonio and buried her face in her hands, and she wept. For Antonio had so won on her by his honour and his gentleness, and most of all by his loyal clinging to the poor boy Jacopo, that she could not think of her treachery without loathing and horror. Yet she dared not tell him; that now seemed worse to her than death. And while they sat thus, Luigi came and told Antonio that the youth was sore hurt and that they could not lift him.
"Then stay by him," said Antonio. "I need nothing."
And Luigi bowed, and, turning, went back to the other youth, and bade him stay by Jacopo, while he went by Antonio's orders to seek for some one to aid in carrying him. "I may chance," said he, "to find some shepherds." So he went, not to seek shepherds, but to seek the Duke's men, and tell them that they might safely come upon Antonio, for he had now none to guard him.
Then Antonio said to Venusta, "Why do you sit and weep?"