I had suffered the scorn now of her speech, now of her silence, for some hours, but never was I so near to turning on her as at that moment; never so near to consigning her to the fate to which her headstrong folly was compelling her. That she should take that tone with me!
The violence of the sudden choler I suppressed turned me pale under her steady glance. So that, seeing it, her own cheeks flamed crimson, and her eyes fell, as if in token that she realised the meanness of her bearing. To some natures there can be nothing more odious than such a realisation, and of those, I think, was she; for she stamped her foot in a sudden pet, and curtly asked the host why there was such delay with the horses.
“They are at the door, Madonna,” he protested, bowing as he spoke. “And your escort is already waiting in the saddle.”
She turned and strode abruptly towards the threshold. Over her shoulder she called to me:
“If you come with us, Boccadoro, you had best be brisk.”
“I follow, Madonna,” said I, with a grim relish, “so soon as I have paid the reckoning.”
She halted and half turned, and I thought I saw a slight droop at the corners of her mouth.
“You are keeping count of what I owe you?” she muttered.
“Aye, Madonna,” I answered, more grimly still, “I am keeping count.” And I thought that my wits were vastly at fault if that account were not to be greatly swelled ere Pesaro was reached. Haply, indeed, my own life might go to swell it. I almost took a relish in that thought. Perhaps then, when I was stiff and cold—done to death in her service—this handsome, ungrateful child would come to see how much discomfort I had suffered for her sake.
My thoughts still ran in that channel as we rode out of Pesaro, for I misliked the way in which those knaves disposed themselves about us. In front went Madonna Paola; and immediately behind her, so that their horses’ heads were on a level with her saddle-bow, one on each side, went two of those ruffians. The third, whom I had heard them call Stefano, and who was the one who had made her the offer of their services, ambled at my side, a few paces in the rear, and sought to draw me into conversation, haply by way of throwing me off my guard.