"Because I say so," returned Francisco.
A mocking answer rose to Conrad's lips, but it was never spoken. With a gesture, Francisco motioned him to silence. He turned and listened.
"Horses! And coming hither!" he said. "Soldiers!"
The others, grouped close by, ready to mount, stopped paralyzed—yes, Francisco's ears had caught the sound aright, the tramp of horsemen, and coming upon them from the road.
Escape with horses any other way there was none, though Conrad madly urged they should mount and fly.
But Francisco turned on him threateningly.
"Am I to run thee through?" he said; "these horses mean more to me than thy life, or my own. Where shall we ride? Into the water? No, go back into the hut." He turned to Ligozzi. "Aid me tether these beasts where they may be unnoticed. These men perchance are only riding through."
It was done in silence and with expedition. The soldiers' voices were now plain, and the jangle of their arms.
"Come, Ligozzi," said Francisco, "thou and I will play at being soldiers, and see how we can overcome Visconti's men. 'Tis a game that thou and I have played before."
He drew his dagger as he spoke, and stepped back with Ligozzi into the hut. The door was closed. Francisco glanced around. By the table stood Conrad, showing even at that moment the silver and ivory chessmen, which he slipped out of his doublet one at a time, and passed them before Vittore's now wandering, now fascinated gaze.