.

THE COZENING OF RAMIRO.
The cavalcade that had overtaken us proved to number some twenty men-at-arms, whose leader was no less a person than Ramiro del' Orca--that same mountain of a man who had attended my departure from the Vatican three nights ago.

From the circumstance that so important a personage should have been charged with the pursuit of the Lady of Santafior, I inferred that great issues were at stake.
He was clad in mail and leather, and from his lance fluttered the bannerol bearing the Borgia arms, which had announced his quality to Madonna's servants.
At sight of me his bloodshot eyes grew round with wonder, and for a little season a deathly calm preceded the thunder of his voice.
"Sainted Host!" he roared at last.

"What trickery may this be ?" And sidling his horse nearer he tore aside the curtains of my litter.
Out of faces pale as death the craven grooms looked on, to behold me reclining there, my cloak flung down across my legs to hide my boots, and my motley garb of red and black and yellow all revealed.

I believe their astonishment by far surpassed the Captain's own.
"You are choicely met, Ser Ramiro," I greeted him.