I turned, and there, leaning on the balustrade of the staircase, looking on with smiling eyes stood Galeotto with Messer Cavalcanti at his elbow.
I heard Galeotto's words to the Lord of Pagliano. “His heart is sound—which is a miracle. That woman, it seems, could not quite dehumanize him.” And he came down heavily, to ask Falcone what news he bore.
The old equerry drew a letter from under his leathern jacket.
“From Ferrante?” quoth the Lord of Pagliano eagerly, peering over Galeotto's shoulder.
“Ay,” said Galeotto, and he broke the seal. He stood to read, with knitted brows. “It is well,” he said, at last, and passed the sheet to Cavalcanti. “Farnese is in Piacenza already, and the Pope will sway the College to give his bastard the ducal crown. It is time we stirred.”
He turned to Falcone, whilst Cavalcanti read the letter. “Take food and rest, good Gino. For to-morrow you ride again with me. And so shall you, Agostino.”
“I ride again?” I echoed, my heart sinking and some of my dismay showing upon my face. “Whither?”
“To right the wrongs of Mondolfo,” he answered shortly, and turned away.