Three hours later Antonio presented himself before him with the report
that everything was ready, all the things were packed, and Signor Muzio
was preparing to depart. Without uttering a word in answer to his
servant, Fabio stepped out on the terrace, whence the pavilion was
visible. Several pack-horses were grouped in front of it; at the porch
itself a powerful black stallion, with a roomy saddle adapted for two
riders, was drawn up. There also stood the servants with bared heads and
the armed escort. The door of the pavilion opened and, supported by the
Malay, Muzio made his appearance. His face was deathlike, and his arms
hung down like those of a corpse,--but he walked ... yes! he put one
foot before the other, and once mounted on the horse, he held himself
upright, and got hold of the reins by fumbling. The Malay thrust his
feet into the stirrups, sprang up behind him on the saddle, encircled
his waist with his arm,--and the whole procession set out. The horses
proceeded at a walk, and when they made the turn in front of the house,
Fabio fancied that on Muzio's dark countenance two small white patches
gleamed.... Could it be that he had turned his eyes that way?--The Malay
alone saluted him ... mockingly, but as usual.
Did Valeria see all this? The shutters of her windows were closed ...
but perhaps she was standing behind them.