er Griffo, were to
have ridden with them into the darkness of the wood, and were then and
there incontinently to have been cut to pieces by the mercenaries.
Maleotti, lingering behind to look after that troublesome horse of his,
saw that much of this came very properly to pass. As the Florentines of
the Company of Death came within view and hail of that midway wood,
there rode out to greet them a number of Free Companions, with Messer
Griffo at their head. In the gray of the growing dawn Maleotti could
recognize him very clearly by his height on horseback and his burly
English bulk, and Maleotti, still busy with his horse, could see how the
two forces joined hands, so to speak, and how the free-lances gathered
around the little company of youths from Florence, and, as it were,
swallowed them up in their greater number, and how the whole force, thus
united, disappeared into the darkness of the wood, as the children in
the fairy tale disappear into the mouth of the giant.

Then Maleotti made up his mind that he had seen enough, and
congratulated himself upon his wisdom in holding aloof from that
meeting, for, as he very sensibly reflected, in a scuffle of the sort
that was arranged to follow, your mercenary who is paid to kill is not
always clear-headed enough to distinguish between his properly appointed
victims and a respectable individual like Maleotti, who was a firm
friend and faithful servant of the master butcher. So Maleotti mounted
on his horse, which, now that we were out of sight, had very suddenly
and unexpectedly grown quiet again, and rode off at an easy walking pace
toward Florence, congratulating himself and his master upon a night's
work well done.

Yet Maleotti had to learn that it does not always follow in life that
because the first portion of a carefully prepared plan goes as it was
intended to go, the rest of the plan must necessarily move with equal
success along its appointed lines. Though Maleotti was as sure as if he
had seen it of our slaughter in the forest shambles, there came no
moment in that journey of ours through the darkness of the wood when
Messer Griffo, drawing his sword, thundered an appointed order, and
forces of destruction were let loose upon the Company of Death. On the
contrary, Messer Griffo rode very quietly and pleasantly by the side of
Messer Guido, chatting affably of the affairs of Florence and the
pleasures and advantages of a morning attack, when you take your enemy
by