"Well," says Silvestro, "I will do it. Rise up, Messere; take what you
will."
Messer Alessandro shut his eyes, and slowly rose to his feet. Having
kissed the goatherd's hand, he very delicately kissed the goatherd's
proffered cheek. "I am paid immeasurably, most holy one," he said. "Lead
now; I will do what you desire."
Out sped Silvestro into the wood, the Sub-Prefect bareheaded behind him.
In a glade not far from the hermitage sat the two archers. The horses
were tethered to one tree, Castracane to another. Seeing their chief,
the men sprang to attention; their astonishment at what followed was no
greater than Castracane's. Silvestro (that timid slave), now as bold as
brass, walked straight to him, the Sub-Prefect tiptoeing behind.
"Loose him, Signore," says Silvestro.