I want not for friends among them." Fanfulla sighed.
"And so we lose you.

The stoutest arm in Babbiano leaves us in the hour of need, driven out by that loutish Duke.

By my soul, Ser Francesco, I would I might go with you.

Here is nothing to be done." Francesco paused in the act of drawing on a boot, and raised his eyes to stare a moment at his friend.
"But if you wish it, Fanfulla, I shall rejoice to have your company." And now the idea of it entered Fanfulla's mind in earnest, for his expression had been more or less an idle one.

But since Francesco invited him, why not indeed?
And thus it came to pass that at the third hour of that warm May night a party of four men on horseback and two sumpter mules passed out of Babbiano and took the road that leads to Vinamare, and thence into the territory of Urbino.