"How did you get off?" I asked as they came up.
"In the rear of the troop from Magione, excellency," was Jacopo's reply, "they did not observe us, having eyes only for you; and seeing you were safe, we forded the stream lower down and crossed--but, excellency, your face--are you hurt?"
"Somewhat, but at St. Jerome I will have it attended to."
In truth the left side of my face appeared to be laid open, and although I felt that the wound was not so dangerous as it seemed, yet I had bled freely, and now that the excitement was over, began to suffer much pain. Indeed at times I felt as if I could hardly hold myself straight in the saddle, succeeding in doing so only by an effort of will. I did not approach the litter. I was afraid that the sight of my face would alarm Angiola, for now she was probably able to look about her, and see that which she had not been able to observe before. Once, however, in a bend of the road, that fortunately went to the left and hid my wounded side, our eyes met, and I caught so bright a smile of thanks, that it paid me for my hurt. I reined in, for I knew my face showed too much, and henceforth kept well behind. I sent Gian on to the convent with the good news of Angiola's rescue, and on nearing the gates was met by St. Armande and the rest of my followers, whom I was glad indeed to see.
He came up with a merry greeting. "Welcome," he cried, "so, gallant knight, you have saved the damsel in distress;" then catching sight of my wounded face his tone changed. "Good God! you are hurt."
"A little."
"You should have it seen to at once--come--we are not allowed to enter the convent; but the abbess has done all she can for us, and we camp or lodge, whichever way you put it, in that house there," he pointed to a small villa, set in what seemed a wilderness of holm-oak that hid all but its roof from view.
"Not so fast, chevalier. I must leave my charge at the convent first."
He had to rest satisfied with this, but I was surprised that he made no inquiry as to the condition of Angiola, an ordinary civility that might have been expected.
At the gates of the convent, within which we were not allowed to enter, we were met by the lady abbess and her train. I dismounted, intending to assist Angiola out of the litter, but as it was set down, she sprang out of it of her own accord, and the next minute she was in the arms of the abbess, and there was much kissing and many congratulations, mingled with tears of joy.