"Thou see'st," he said, "we are well provided, though it has taken me all day. Now, to mount, without pause. Where is the Count?"
"The Count," faltered Tomaso, half-crying with vexation, "the Count——"
"Well, what of him?" said Francisco, pausing keenly.
"He has gone back to the villa—to fetch something. Oh, Messer Francisco, prevent him I could not—he left but now——"
"Gone back to the villa!" cried Francisco. "Did he rave? Is he in his senses?"
Tomaso wrung his hands.
"He went to fetch a dagger he remembered and some chessmen."
With a cry of rage Francisco flung himself from his saddle. "Methinks I left a fool to guard a fool," he said. "Did I not tell thee to see Count Conrad kept from folly? Our lives are on it!"
Tomaso paled at his displeasure, and faltered out a recital of what had happened, but Francisco cut him short.