"By my faith that is true," said the commander of the band; "you are not tricking me, I trust, Master Antonio? Halt there--halt!"
"It might be fine fun to trick a French knight if I were my lord's jester," said Antonio, "but I have not arrived at that dignity yet."
"Where does that road lead to, then, sirrah?" demanded De Vitry, pointing to the one they were just leaving.
"To Pavia, my lord," replied the man; "but you will find this the shortest, and, I judge, the best."
There was a lurking smile upon Antonio's face, which De Vitry did not like; and, after but a moment's hesitation, he turned his horse back into the other path, saying:
"I will take the broad way; I never liked narrow or crooked paths in my life."
"I trust you will then allow me to follow the other, sir," said Antonio; "first, because there is no use in trying to guide people who will not be guided, and, secondly, because I have something important to say to my young lord."
"No, sir--no," answered De Vitry, sharply; "ride here by my side. To-morrow, at farthest, I will take care to know whether you have tried to deceive me: and if you have, beware your ears."
"You will know to-night, my lord," said the man, "and my ears are in no danger, if you are not given, like many another gentlemen, to cuffing other people for your own faults."
"You are somewhat saucy, sir," replied the marquis; "your master spoils you, methinks."