CHAPTER XXXVIIIFrancisco, roused in the late dusk, found that there was a good horse at his door, and another, which a man rode, who was to guide him out of the town.
They rode by rough ways to a hollow field, it might be two miles away, where there was assemblage of horses and men.
Seen by a better light, they would have been but a ragged crowd, sundry of weapons and dress, and with horses as far apart as the heavy mount of the armoured knight, and the light, sure-footed breed that were born among Sicilian hills. Now the saddles were bare, and the men knelt to a priest who assoiled their souls before they rode on a way that might be death to all, and would almost surely mean that some had seen the last sunset their eyes would know.
As they rose, Francisco was led forward to Marshal Cou
