The end soon followed.

He drew rein and called a halt, sullenly sitting his horse like a man deprived of wit--which is to pay him the compliment of supposing that he ever had wit to be deprived of.
Instantly the curtain-rings rasped, and Madonna Paola's head appeared, her voice inquiring the reason of this fresh delay.
Sullenly Giacopo moved his horse nearer, and sullenly he answered her.
"Madonna, our horses are done.

It is useless to go farther." "Useless ?" she cried, and I had an instance of how sharply could ring the voice that I had heard so gentle.

"Of what do you talk, you knave?
Ride on at once." "It is vain to ride on," he answered obdurately, insolence rising in his voice.

"Another half-league--another league at most, and we are taken." "Cagli is less than a league distant," she reminded him.