they wore was that of the noble House of Santafior--the holy white flower
of the quince being embroidered on the breast of their gabardines.

They bore upon them such signs of hard and hasty travelling that it was
soon guessed they had spent the night in the saddle. Their horses were in
a foam of sweat; and the men themselves were splashed with mud from foot
to cap.

Even as I was going forward to regard them the taverner appeared, leading
my horse by the bridle. Now at an inn the traveller that arrives is ever
of more importance than he that departs. At sight of those horsemen, the
taverner forgot my impatience, for he paused to bow in welcome to the one
that seemed the leader.

"Most Magnificent," said he to that liveried hind, "command me."

"We need a guide," the fellow answered with an ill grace.

"A guide, Illustrious?" quoth the host. "A guide?"

"I said a guide, fool," answered him the groom. "Heard you never of such
animals? We need a man who knows the hills, to lead us by the shortest
road to Cagli."

The taverner shook his grey head stupidly. He bowed again until I fancied
I could hear the creak of his old joints.

"Here be no guides, Magnificent," he deplored. "Perhaps at Gualdo--"

"Animal," was the retort--for true courtesy commend me to a lacquey!--"it