"Whither away, my dear?" said the taller of the two. "It is fair weather for a journey!"—
The duke bowed profusely.
"Fair weather for a good thirst," he replied, nodding at the stone bottle which reposed in the capacious lap of the speaker.
"You carry a lusty belly," replied the dame, whose eyes had a hungry boldness, while she offered the bottle to her interlocutor.
The duke took a liberal draught. Francesco frowned.
Then the three chaffered with obvious good humor, touching upon many topics, which sounded strange to Francesco's ears.
They touched upon the wonders of the swamps, wild beasts, wolves and bears; they conversed of the outlaws of Arezzo, whose leader was said to be a woman; of the stone that bled on Passion Sunday, of the mysterious almond-tree at Treviso, that bore fruit showing the impress of the face of the Christ.
The duke seemed remarkably well versed in all matters pertaining to Church or state. When he stopped for a pull at the stone bottle, the two women laughed, taking alternate bites from an apple and munching the pulp with a voracious movement of the jaws.
Francesco thought them queer wayfarers, for they in turn stared at him, then at each other and laughed, looking at Francesco's grave face as if it were the quaintest thing on earth.
"Saints! What a sweet gentleman!" said the taller of the two, "and to see such a one in the spider's web!"