"Not to-night, my lord; wait till the morn—till the storm is over; thou art unarmed!"
Mastino drew Isotta close to him, till her head rested on his shoulder, and looked down wildly at Tomaso.
"Visconti lies outside Novara—I know the way!" he said.
"Take some of us with thee!" implored Tomaso. "Oh, my lord——"
But Della Scala spurred the horse into a sudden leap, that threw Tomaso to the ground.
"I know the way!" he said.
The white horse plunged forward into the storm, and the dark closed round the rider and his burden.
* * * * *
For hours had Della Scala ridden with his wife across his horse and against his breast, but riding always toward Novara; and now he had ridden suddenly into a wild red glare that lit the sky.