Felix, worn out by watching and with a slight wound in the
side which began to be troublesome, he was reluctantly obliged to
leave. Having inquired as to the road over the mountains by which he
might reach Arpinum more quickly than by the Latin Way, he rode
forth from the town, and was soon spurring at headlong speed in a
cloud of dust.
His thoughts far outstripped him; he raged at the prospect of long
hours to elapse ere he could reach Marcian's villa. With good luck
he might arrive before nightfall. If disappointed in that, a whole
night must pass, an eternity of torment, before he came face to face
with him he had called his dearest friend, now his abhorred enemy.
What if he did not find him at the villa? Marcian had perhaps no
intention of remaining there. Perhaps he had already carried off his
victim to some other place.
Seeing their lord post so furiously, the men looked in wonder at
each other. Some of them were soon left far behind, and Basil,
though merciless in his frenzy, saw at length that his horse was
seriously distressed; he slackened pace, allowed his followers to
rejoin him, and rode, perforce, at what seemed to him a mere crawl.
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