"That Uncle Marco," chuckled the Chief, "did he not save you the price of the umbrella? Who could hold the umbrella on horseback? It is only for sultan of the desert, not for warrior of the Palio!" He threw back his head, laughing as light-heartedly as a boy, and the flutter of notes from the palace window echoed their happiness.
CHAPTER XVIII
Back Home to the Maremma
The next morning broke clear and cool, and Giorgio set out before sunup for Doctor Celli's villa. He carried only a small parcel containing his clothes, which were wrapped about a chunk of bread and a salami. If Gaudenzia was fit to travel, he would make her load as light as possible.
The shadowed road was still cool from the night, and the birds only beginning to sing. Giorgio whistled as he strode along, and the notes came so light and fast he could hardly keep up with them. The song he whistled was about the common road to glory, and there was such a bursting in his chest that he half ran the shadowy climbing way to the villa on the hilltop.
The sun was less than an hour high when he stood at Doctor Celli's door, completely out of breath. "Suppose," he suddenly thought, "the doctor is a late riser! Suppose word has not reached him that I am coming and he is off hunting rabbits in the hills. Suppose the weasely groom is in charge!"
But before Giorgio could pick up the brass knocker, a beautiful shiny one made in the image of a unicorn, the door opened wide and Doctor Celli, with a dog at his heels, stepped outside.