Go, go, sirs, or all is lost." They obeyed him now with a rush that seemed almost to partake of panic.
In a frenzied haste Fanfulla and another tore the tetherings loose, and a moment later they were all mounted and ready for that fearful ride.
The night was dark, yet not too dark.

The sky was cloudless and thickly starred, whilst a minguant moon helped to illumine the way by which they were to go.

But on that broken and uncertain mountain path the shadows lay thickly enough to make their venture desperate.
Ferrabraccio claiming a better knowledge than his comrades of the way, placed himself at their head, with the Count beside him.

Behind them, two by two, came the four others.

They stood on a small ledge in the shadow of the great cliff that loomed on their left.