I drew up my horse. The road at that point was quite deserted; the groom was following me at a distance. Over the grand, lonely scenery reigned the deepest silence, only broken at intervals by the whispering olives; a steady light shone equally over everything; and in the light and the silence, all things from small leaves to gigantic rocks appeared with a clearness of outline that was almost crude. I felt more strongly than ever the ambiguous something which had entered into me. And I thought: “Was not my soul till yesterday filled with the same clear daylight which now reveals every line of scenery to my attentive sight? And does not this new uncertainty cover some great peril? What if a dangerously large store of poetry has accumulated within me during my solitude, and now requires unlimited expansion? But if I give myself up to the rushing torrent, where will it carry me? Perhaps watchful guard against extraneous life may yet avail; perhaps it may yet avail to refuse to enter the circle which is suddenly opening before me, and will enclose me like a magic ring.” And the dæmon repeated with unhesitating voice: “Fear not! Welcome the unknown and unforeseen and whatever else fate may bring thee; abolish all prohibitions; go onwards safe and free; have no anxiety save to live. Thy fate can only be fulfilled in the abundance of life.”
I urged my horse into a trot, vehemently, as if at that point a great act had been resolved upon. And Trigento appeared on the slope of the hill with its stone houses clustering against the parent rock. At the summit appeared the ancient palace with its walled garden stretching down the opposite slope to the plain. It produced the effect of a great cloister full of forgotten or dead things.
As I dismounted at the gate I heard the voice of Oddo, who was looking out for me.
“Welcome, Claudio!”
He ran to meet me with outstretched arms, as much delighted as the first time.
“I thought you would have come earlier,” he said in a reproachful tone; “I have been waiting for you here for the last two hours.”
“I lingered on the way,” I answered. “I wanted to renew acquaintance with every tree and stone.”
With one of those strange sudden movements of his, in which curiosity and timidity were mingled, he went up to my horse and stroked his neck.
“How beautiful he is!” he murmured, and the animal’s sensitive neck quivered under the touch of his slender white hand.