But he had no horses.  One horse that drew a cart, but no horses for riding at all.  And Rodriguez thought of the immense miles lying between him and the foreign land, keeping him back from his ambition; they all pressed on his mind at once.  The smith was sorry, but he could not make horses.

“Show him your coin, master,” said Morano.

“Ah, a small token,” said Rodriguez, drawing it forth still on its green ribbon under his clothing.  “The bowman’s badge, is it not?”

Gonzalez looked at it, then looked at Rodriguez.

“Master,” he said, “you shall have your horses.  Give me time:  you shall have them.  Enter, master.”  And he bowed and widely opened the door.  “If you will breakfast in my house while I go to the neighbours you shall have some horses, master.”

So they entered the house, and the smith with many bows gave the travellers over to the care of his wife, who saw from her husband’s manner that these were persons of importance and as such she treated them both, and as such entertained them to their second breakfast.  And this meant they ate heartily, as travellers can, who can go without a breakfast or eat two; and those who dwell in cities can do neither.

And while the plump dame did them honour they spoke no word of the forest, for they knew not what place her husband’s early years had in her imagination.

They had barely finished their meal when the sound of hooves on cobbles was heard and Gonzalez beat on the door.  They all went to the door and found him there with two horses.  The horses were saddled and bridled.  They fixed the stirrups to please them, then the travellers mounted at once.  Rodriguez made his grateful farewell to the wife of the smith:  then, turning to Gonzalez, he pointed to the two tired horses which had waited all the while with their reins thrown over a hook on the wall.

“Let the owner of these have them till his own come back,” he said, and added:  “How far may I take these?”

“They are good horses,” said the smith.

“Yes,” said Rodriguez.

“They could do fifty miles to-day,” Gonzalez continued, “and to-morrow, why, forty, or a little more.”

“And where will that bring me?” said Rodriguez, pointing to the straight road which was going his way, north-eastward.

“That,” said Gonzalez, “that should bring you some ten or twenty miles short of Saspe.”

“And where shall I leave the horses?” Rodriguez asked.

“Master,” Gonzalez said, “in any village where there be a smith, if you say ’these are the horses of the smith Gonzalez, who will come for them one day from here,’ they will take them in for you, master.”

“But,” and Gonzalez walked a little away from his wife, and the horses walked and he went beside them, “north of here none knows the bowmen.  You will get no fresh horses, master.  What will you do?”

“Walk,” said Rodriguez.