ven miles from the town, in a small and very remote country house,
which he had hired for twelve months from one of the city hospitals.
He had hired it furnished, and had purchased a horse and small
carriage from a man in the town. To this man they went, and it soon
became evident to them that he of whom they were in search was living
at this house, which was called Casalunga, and was not, as the police
officer told them, on the way to any place. They must leave Siena by
the road for Rome, take a turn to the left about a mile beyond the
city gate, and continue on along the country lane till they saw a
certain round hill to the right. On the top of that round hill was
Casalunga. As the country about Siena all lies in round hills, this
was no adequate description;--but it was suggested that the country
people would know all about it. They got a small open carriage in
the market-place, and were driven out. Their driver knew nothing of
Casalunga, and simply went whither he was told. But by the aid of the
country people they got along over the unmade lanes, and in little
more than an hour were told, at the bottom of the hill, that they
must now walk up to Casalunga. Though the hill was round-topped, and
no more than a hill, still the ascent at last was very steep, and
was paved with stones set edgeway in a manner that could hardly have
been intended to accommodate wheels. When Mr. Glascock asserted that
the signor who lived there had a carriage of his own, the driver
suggested that he must keep it at the bottom of the hill. It was
clearly not his intention to attempt to drive up the ascent, and Sir
Marmaduke and Mr. Glascock were therefore obliged to walk. It was
now in the latter half of May, and there was a blazing Italian sky
over their heads. Mr. Glascock was acclimated to Italian skies, and
did not much mind the work; but Sir Marmaduke, who never did much
in walking, declared that Italy was infinitely hotter than the
Mandarins, and could hardly make his way as far as the house door.

It seemed to both of them to be a most singular abode for such a
man as Trevelyan. At the top of the hill there was a huge entrance
through a wooden gateway, which seemed to have been constructed with
the intention of defying any intruders not provided with warlike
ammunition. The gates were, indeed, open at the period of their
visit, but it must be supposed that they were intended to be closed
at any rate at night. Immediately on the right