At their head rode their commander, a man of some thirty to two and thirty years of age, of a fine, manly person and handsome countenance, although the expression might be somewhat quick and hasty, and a deep scar on the brow rather marred the symmetry of his face. By his side, on a horse of much inferior power, but full of fire and activity, rode a man, not exactly in the garb of a servant, but yet plainly habited and nearly unarmed. Sword and dagger most men wore in those days, but he wore neither lance nor shield, cuirass nor back-piece. He carried a little black velvet cap upon his head, with a long feather; and he rode in shoes of untanned leather, with long, sharp points, somewhat like a pod of mustard-seed. "Are you sure you know the way, Master Tony?" asked De Vitry. "I know the way right well, noble lord," replied the other; "but you do me too much honour to call me master. In Italy none is master but a man of great renown in the arts." "Good faith, I know not what you are," answered the leader, "and I never could make out what young Lorenzo kept you always trotting at his heels for, like a hound after his master." "You do me too much honour again, my lord," replied the other, "in comparing me to a hound." "What, then, in Fortune's name, are you?" asked De Vitry, laughing. "A mongrel," replied Antonio, "half French, half Italian; but pray, your lordship, don't adjure me by Fortune; for the blind goddess with the kerchief over her eyes has never been favourable to me all my life." "Time she should change then," answered De Vitry. "Oh, sir, she is like a school-boy," answered Antonio; "she never changes but from mischief to mischief; only constant in doing evil; and whichever side of her wheel turns uppermost, my lot is sure to slide down to the bottom. But here your lordship must turn off." De Vitry was following on the road to which the other pointed, when a voice behind said: "You are leaving the high road, my lord. If you look forward, you will see this is but a narrow lane." "By my faith that is true," said the commander of the band; "you are not tricking me, I trust, Master Antonio? Halt there--halt!" "It might be fine fun to trick a French knight if I were my lord's jester," said Antonio, "but I have not arrived at that dignity yet." "Where does that road lead to, then, sirrah?" demanded De Vitry, pointing to the one they were just leaving. "To Pavia, my lord," replied the man; "but you will find this the shortest, and, I judge, the best." There was a lurking smile upon Antonio's face, which De Vitry did not like; and, after but a moment's hesitation, he turned his horse back into the other path, saying: "I will take the broad way; I never liked narrow or crooked paths in my life." "I trust you will then allow me to follow the other, sir," said Antonio; "first, because there is no use in trying to guide people who will not be guided, and, secondly, because I have something important to say to my young lord."