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If you would make good your escape it first imports that you should rid yourself of this valiant escort. Separate from it for a little while. Take you my horse it is a very gentle beast, and it wilt carry you with safety and ride on, alone, to Cagli." "Alone?" quoth she, in some surprise. "Why, yes," I answered gruffly. "What of that?
"Then, why plague me with unprofitable questions? What concern is it of ours how Messer del' Orca shall vent his wrath when he is disillusioned. Your duty now is to rejoin your mistress. Ride hard for Cagli. Seek her at the sign of 'The Full Moon, and then away for Pesaro.
I asked. "I shall make my way back across the hills and so retrace my steps to Rome. I'll risk my head no more for any lady or any Fool." "If you should ever chance to risk it for yourself," said I, with unmeasured scorn, "you'll risk it for the greatest fool and the cowardliest rogue that ever shamed the name of man. And your mistress? Is she to wait at Cagli until doomsday?
That winter adventure betwixt Cagli and Pesaro was a link that bound us together, and caused her to see under my motley and my masking smile the true Lazzaro Biancomonte whom for a little season she had known. And when we were alone it had become her wont to call me Lazzaro, leaving that other name that they had given me for use when others were at hand.
Having been there about two years, he returned to San Marino sick of a quartan fever, which hung upon him two years; of which being finally cured, he set up a wool business of his own, with which he continued up to the year 1535, at which time his father, perceiving that Giovan Battista was in good circumstances, gave him for a wife in Cagli a daughter of Guido Peruzzi, a person of considerable standing in that city.
But here a friar, discovering that he still lived, called in the soldiers and bade them finish him. This friar, going later through Cagli, was recognized, set upon by a mob, and torn to pieces in which, if the rest of the tale be true, he was richly served.
"We must rest them yet awhile, Madonna," answered he, "if they are to carry us as far as Cagli. Heaven send that we may obtain fresh cattle there, else is all lost." Her frown proclaimed how much his words displeased her. "You forget that if there are no horses for us, neither are there any for those others." And she waved her hand towards the valley below and the road by which we had come.
He was himself a master of his art, and this, perhaps the most agreeable of his paintings, has a masculine sincerity which is absent from at least the later works of Perugino. Some miles beyond Cagli, the real pass of the Furlo begins. It owes its name to a narrow tunnel bored by Vespasian in the solid rock, where limestone crags descend on the Barano.
They crossed the stream at a spot where the widened sheet of water scarce went higher than their horses' hocks; then veering to the east they rode away from the hills for a half-league or so until they gained a road. Here they turned northward again, and pushed on towards Cagli.
"There will be delays, perforce, at Cagli," he reminded her, "and, meanwhile, there are these to guide the Borgia sbirri." And he pointed to the tracks we were leaving in the snow. She turned from him, and addressed herself to the other three. "You will stand by me, my friends," she cried. "Giacopo, here, is a coward; but you are better men."
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