"'Thus, then, we travelled on together, my guards taking little heed of each other, and none of me in my agony; seeming, indeed, to have no care if I lived or died. They rode as fellows on a journey so often do when they have said their most on such matters as they have in common, and are thinking rather of the good dinner and the bed that awaits them at their journey's end than of what they pass on the road, or of what they have left behind. One of them, the knave that had struck me down, who seemed the most light-hearted of the three, would at such odd times as pleased him break into a short length of song, which might for all I know have been of his own making, so far as the words went; while as for the tune, it was a cadence such as the vine-setter sings at his work in Tuscany, having neither end nor beginning, and suited to any words the singer may choose to fit to it. Taking note that he did this the more as the third man, whom I had not recognised, rode on a short distance ahead as he did at intervals, I judged this last one to be his superior in command; and that, if I could find voice for speech at all, my best chance of an answer would be from himself and not from this superior, who would most likely only bid me be silent at the best, even if he gave no worse response. So I caught at the moment when he had ended a rather longer cadence than usual, judging therefrom that my speech would reach at most him and the man behind whom I myself was riding. Where was I being taken so fast, I asked, and for what? And he answers me thus: "'"To a good meal and a long rest, _mio figlio_. To the Castello del bel Riposo. They sleep a long night at that _albergo_--those who ride there as you ride. I have ridden more than once with a guest of his Excellency. But there has always been a good meal for each, _pasta_, and meat, and a flask of _vino buono puro_, before he went to rest." Whereon he laughed, but there was no joy for me in that laugh of his. I speak again. "'"I see what you mean, accursed one! That flask of wine will be my last on this earth." "'"You speak truly, _caro mio figlio_. It will be your last flask of wine. You will enjoy it all the more." "'"You are a good swordsman----?" "'"I am accounted so. But this good Taddeo, whom you are permitting to ride in front of you--ho! ho!--he also is a good swordsman. But we may neither of us grant what I know well you were going to ask. You will never hold a sword-hilt again, my son, nor rejoice in face of an enemy. I could have wished otherwise, for you are a brave boy; and I would gladly have been the butcher to so fine a young calf." "'"You are quick to grip my meaning. But I could have outmatched you both on fair ground. Now listen! You have a good-will towards me--so I judge from your words. Tell me, then, this:--how will they kill me?"