"Are you sure you know the way, Master Tony?" asked De Vitry.
"I know the way right well, noble lord," replied the other; "but you do me too much honour to call me master. In Italy none is master but a man of great renown in the arts."
"Good faith, I know not what you are," answered the leader, "and I never could make out what young Lorenzo kept you always trotting at his heels for, like a hound after his master."
"You do me too much honour again, my lord," replied the other, "in comparing me to a hound."
"What, then, in Fortune's name, are you?" asked De Vitry, laughing.
"A mongrel," replied Antonio, "half French, half Italian; but pray, your lordship, don't adjure me by Fortune; for the blind goddess with the kerchief over her eyes has never been favourable to me all my life."
"Time she should change then," answered De Vitry.
"Oh, sir, she is like a school-boy," answered Antonio; "she never changes but from mischief to mischief; only constant in doing evil; and whichever side of her wheel turns uppermost, my lot is sure to slide down to the bottom. But here your lordship must turn off."
De Vitry was following on the road to which the other pointed, when a voice behind said:
"You are leaving the high road, my lord. If you look forward, you will see this is but a narrow lane."