You were at fault, for
in Monna Valentina we have the captive maiden, in my cousin the dragon,
in Gonzaga another, and in me the errant knight who is destined--I hope--
to save her."
"You will save her from Gian Maria?" questioned Fanfulla incredulously.
"I will attempt it."
He turned to his servant, who entered as he spoke.
"We set out in a quarter of an hour, Lanciotto," said he. "Saddle for me
and for yourself. You are to go with me. Zaccaria may remain with
Messer degli Arcipreti. You will care for him, Fanfulla, and he will
serve you well."
"But what of me?" cried Fanfulla. "Do I not accompany you?"
"If you will, yes. But you might serve me better by returning to
Babbiano and watching the events there, sending me word of what befalls--
for great things will befall soon if my cousin returns not and the Borga
advances. It is upon this that I am founding such hopes as I have."
"But whither shall I send you word? To Roccaleone?"
Francesco reflected a moment. "If you do not hear from me, then send
your news to Roccaleone, for if I should linger there and we are
besieged, it will perhaps be impossible to send a message to you. But
if--as I hope--I go to Aquila, I will send you word of it."
"To Aquila?"
"Yes. It may be that I shall be at Aquila before the week is out. But
keep it secret, Fanfulla, and I'll fool these dukes to the very top of
their unhealthy bent."
A half-hour later the Count of Aquila, mounted on a stout Calabrian
horse, and attended by Lanciotto on a mule, rode gently down towards the
valley.
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