"No, I am come on an important errand—I am a messenger with strange tidings."
"Of good I am sure, such a pretty herald could not bear ill tidings."
"Do not be too confident, my Lord; the bright sunset heralds in black night."
"Well, my love, you must tell me, and if I can do anything for you my help shall not be lacking."
"It is not here, my Lord, I can tell you; it is not me they concern, but yourself,—will you follow me?"
"Follow you—and whither? Really this is quite romantic and the hour well chosen! And what can concern me? Well, I will come if it is not far."
"It is far though; as far as the Val di Bovino."
"On my word, that is a long distance; and it is now getting late,—will not to-morrow do as well?"
"No, Signore,—to-night; it is of the utmost importance; you know not what hangs on your coming."
"But, my love, the Val is not a 'canny place,' as we say in Scotland; it is full of robbers. Now, I fear not for myself, but my life is of value to my family; it would not be safe nor right for me to go."