The jester returned to his master, saying as he opened the door, "Cousin Max, you are a sensible man about some things even if you are an emperor, and I want to ask you where a valuable paper should be but in your own writing case?"
Waiting until all was quiet outside, Philibert ventured forth once more, and assuming the dignified stride of Il Capitano, he marched past the sentinels, threw off his disguise, and mounting his horse, was once more riding toward Venice, regretting the lost time, and censuring his own thoughtlessness which had rendered his return necessary. It was long after sunrise before he felt justified in taking a rest, stopping at a wayside inn more for the sake of his horse than for his own comfort. "Poor fellow," said he, stroking the tired steed, "you are unfortunate in being obliged to suffer for the folly of your rider."
And now he slipped the ring from his finger and secured it on the inside of the lining of his cap, believing that after all it would be less likely to be found in that place of concealment than tied about his neck.
He met a party of Florentine soldiers
As soon as possible he resumed his journey, which he pursued without incident of note until late that afternoon, when he met a party of Florentine soldiers, who stopped him.
"An Austrian spy," said one of them.
"Do I look like an Austrian?" asked Philibert scornfully.
"Who are you, then?"
"A Savoyard student."