That crimson flame was a reflection of the setting sun flashed from the steel cap of a hidden watcher.

The path took me nearer, and with my hat so set that it might best conceal my face, I was all eyes.

And as I passed the spot where that spy was ambushed, I discerned among the leaves that might so well have screened him, but that the sun had found his helmet out, the evil face of Masuccio Torri." There was a stir among the listeners, and their consternation increased, whilst one or two changed colour.

"For whom did he wait?
That was the question that I asked myself, and I found the answer that it was for me.

If I was right, he must also know the distance I had come, so that he would not look to see me afoot, nor yet, perhaps, in garments such as these.
And so, thanks to all this and to the hat and cloak in which I closely masked myself, he let me pass unchallenged." "By the Virgin!" exclaimed Fabrizio hotly, "I'll swear your conclusions were wrong.