But as I looked at her she shook her head.
"There is no such escort to be found to-day in Cagli," she made answer.
"The town is all but empty, and every lusty man is either gone on the pilgrimage to the Holy House of Loretto, or else is at Pesaro for the Feast of the Epiphany." It was in vain that I protested that a couple of knaves might surely be found.

She answered me that such as were in Cagli were there because they would not be elsewhere.
The lady's face grew clouded as she listened, for from my insistence she shrewdly inferred that it imported to be gone.
"There is your ostler," quoth I at last.

"He will do for one." "He is the only man I have.

My husband and my sons are gone to Pesaro." "Yet spare us this one, and you shall be well paid his services." But no bribe could tempt her to give way, and no doubt she was well-advised, for she contended that there was work to be done such as was beyond her years and strength, and that if she sent her ostler off, as well might she close her inn--a thing that was impossible.
Here, then, was an obstacle with which I had not reckoned.

It was impossible to send the lady off alone, to travel a distance of some ten leagues, and the most of it by night--for if she would make sure of escaping, she must journey now without pause until she came to Pesaro.
And then, in a flash, it occurred to me that here lay the means, ready to my hand, by avail of which I might boldly re-enter Pesaro despite my banishment, and discharge my errand to Lucrezia Borgia.