These buildings were the
ruined castle and walls of Radicofani, and it lay straight on my way
to Rome.

It is a strange thing, arresting northern eyes, to see towns thus
built on summits up into the sky, and this height seemed the more
fantastic because it was framed. A row of cypress trees stood on
either side of the road where it fell from San Quirico, and, exactly
between these, this high crest, a long way off, was set as though by
design.

With more heart in me, and tempted by such an outline as one might be
by the prospect of adventure, I set out to cross the great bare run of
the valley. As I went, the mountain of Amiato came more and more
nearly abreast of me in the west; in its foothills near me were
ravines and unexpected rocks; upon one of them hung a village. I
watched its church and one tall cypress next it, as they stood black
against the last of daylight. Then for miles I went on the dusty way,
and crossed by old bridges watercourses in which stood nothing but
green pools; and the night deepened.

It was when I had crossed the greater part of the obscure plain, at
its lowest dip and not far from the climb up to Radicofani, that I saw
lights shining in a large farmhouse, and though it was my business to
walk by night, yet I needed companionship, so I went in.

There in a very large room, floored with brick and lit by one candle,
were two fine old peasants, with faces like apostles, playing a game
of cards. There also was a woman playing with a strong boy child,
that could not yet talk: and the child ran up to me. Nothing could
persuade the master of the house but that I was a very poor man who
needed sleep, and so good and generous was this old man that my
protests seemed to him nothing but the excuses and shame of poverty.
He asked me where I was going. I said, 'To Rome.' He came out with a
lantern to the stable, and showed me there a manger full of hay,
indicating that I might sleep in it... His candle flashed upon the
great silent oxen standing in rows; their enormous horns, three times
the length of what we know in England, filled me with wonder... Well!
(may it count to me as gain!), rather than seem to offend him I lay
down in that manger, though I had no more desire to sleep than has the
flittermouse in our Sussex gloamings; also I was careful to offer no
money, for that is brutality. When he had left me I took the
opportunity for a little rest, and lay on my back in the hay
wide-awake and st