I had gained my point without waste of words or time, but it was to be my way or not at all. My lady was in dire peril. Against this could I for a moment weigh any thought of myself? What cared I whether France, Spain, or the Borgia ruled in Italy? What mattered it to me whether one crafty statesman held the reins of power, or another outdid him in craft and filched away his bone? My lady was in danger, and my honour might rot, and the Most Christian, the Most Catholic, and Most Holy wolves might tear each other's throats out before I would move a finger, take one step, until she was free. If I had to pull down Baglioni's hold with my hands, I would free her. If a hair of her head was injured I should take such vengeance as man never heard of, and then--my foot caught in the carpeting of the passage, I tripped up and fell heavily, the shock sending stars before my eyes. "Too much haste, cavaliere," and a hand helped me to rise. As I gained my feet I saw Machiavelli beside me. "I followed you at once," he said, "but you went so fast, I had missed you but for that lucky trip. A word more--if you free her, take her to the convent of St. Jerome, two miles north-west of Magione--the abbess will do the rest. I will see to that." "Very well. God grant I succeed!" "Amen to that," and Machiavelli took my hand. "Adieu, cavaliere, once again, I must go back to his eminence, we have a point or two to discuss yet, but no more Falernian. _Corpo di Bacco!_ I grow cold when I think of our escape." "Good-bye, your excellency," and we parted. I went on with a little more care, and being a trifle cooled by my fall, was able to think better. By the time I reached my apartments I had decided on my route. I should leave by the Porta del Popolo, keep on the right bank of the river as far as Borghetto, there cross the Tiber, and on to Perugia in a straight line by Narni and Todi. It was close on three and thirty leagues; but I did not mean to spare horseflesh. As I reached the entrance which led to my rooms, I found Jacopo and my men ready, and Castor whinnied a glad welcome, pawing at the air with his forefoot in his impatience. St. Armande and the abbé, already mounted and attended by a couple of men, were a little to the right. "I will not keep you a moment, chevalier," I called out as I passed him, and running up the stairs to my room, began to dress rapidly. Jacopo attended me, and as he handed me my sword, pointed to the open window. "A fair night for a long ride, excellency!" "Yes, the moon stands well--my cloak--quick," and we descended the stairs. "All ready, Jacopo?" "Your excellency." "Steady, Castor," and I swung into the saddle. There was the jingle of bit chains, the clank of steel scabbards, the ring of iron-shod hoofs on the pavement, and with St. Armande by my side and my troop behind me, I left the Palazzo Corneto.