"The thing has happened," he said sternly, "and may cost us dear, but mine the fault to trust the foreign coxcomb." Never had the two boys seen him so moved, and they shrank into silence.
Francisco fumed with anger. "We will ride without him," he said at length; but even while he bade Tomaso mount, and saw to his own girths, he paused irresolute, and Tomaso was thankful. He did not like to think of the gay Conrad left to meet his fate alone. He ventured to speak.
"The dagger was a lady's gift," he said—"the Lady Valentine's. He could not bear to leave it."
"He will have been wishing that he had," said Francisco brusquely; but his face softened, and he added presently: "He must be brought back, we cannot wait, and 'tis too dangerous to abandon him—for him and for ourselves."
He flung the reins to Tomaso, and lifted Vittore to the ground.
"Stretch thy legs the while," he said.
"Shall I go, messer?" asked the boy.
"He will come quicker at my bidding," said Francisco grimly. "Keep open eyes," he added, "the soldiers must come by the road if come again they do. Hold thither once and spy, and then return and wait us here. Tether the horses carefully and water them. They cost me something." He pointed to his roughly bandaged arm.
Half wild with remorseful vexation, Tomaso watched Francisco go the way the Count had gone, till his tall figure was lost to view. Then he and Vittore surveyed each other with anxious eyes.
"Oh, cousin!" cried the boy, "we have had a fearful day!"