"Oh! that was all—eh? Well—the thing still looks odd—particularly in such troubled times as these. Did anybody hear the orders given to the postilions?"
"The tall man in the cloak said in a loud voice, 'The road towards Dandolo, my boys!'" observed another of the company.
Richard smiled imperceptibly; for he thought within himself, "Then it is precisely because Bazzano said in a loud tone, 'Towards Dandolo,' that the travellers are going in another direction."
The company continued to debate, as all gossips will, upon the incident which had just occurred; and Richard determined to lose no more time ere he explained to Morcar, who had of course recognised the young aide-de-camp, the nature of the warning he had received from this individual.
He according bade the assembled guests "Good night," and left the room, followed by Morcar.
At his request, the landlord conducted them to a double-bedded room; and the moment the host had retired, Richard communicated to the gipsy all that Bazzano had said to him.
"There is but one course to pursue, sir," exclaimed Morcar.
"Which is that?" asked Richard.
"To follow the Castelcicalan officer's advice," returned Morcar. "He saved your life—he restored me to your service—and he is incapable of deceiving us. He is your friend, sir—and you must obey him."
"But, my poor Morcar," said Richard, "I cannot part with you. I have lured you away from your family and native land, to lead you into these difficulties; and I would sooner die than abandon you in a strange country, with even the language of which you are unacquainted."