"I can forgive him now," he said, "since thou were not slain when Verona fell."
"'Twas no fault of the Visconti's that any living soul escaped," returned his father. "Still, go on with thy tale, Tomaso; who is this Francisco, that thou nam'st so oft?"
Tomaso, eager and suddenly light of heart, told all he knew, and ere his recital ended they had reached the open, and found everything as they had left it. The horses safe, nothing seemingly disturbed.
"Francisco will be pleased at a helper such as thou, father," said Tomaso proudly; "thou wilt be of more service in his venture than the German Count."
"And when this Francisco returns presently, the plan is that we set forth at once for Ferrara?" asked Ligozzi.
"And meanwhile rest, father, and I will bring thee food. We have already eaten."
"I, too, my son," answered Ligozzi; but he seated himself on one of the rough wooden stools and watched Tomaso affectionately, as he brought the poor horn lantern from the wall. He lit and set it on the table, where it cast a straggling and wretched light.
"Francisco is surely overlong," he said; "suppose the soldiers think to search again on their way home from some outlying district?"
"Then there will be another fight," said Vittore, "but Francisco will get the best of it."
Ligozzi laughed.