His words poured on. He was plainly lost in the history of the house he served, back in those war-like days of the past when great names testified to greater deeds.
McTaggart realized he had touched on a hobby. "Tell me all about my family." He leaned back, happy, and lit a cigarette while the old man drew with lightning gestures on his absorbing hoard of knowledge.
Of Guelph and Ghibeline intrigue, of wars with Spain and Florentine raids; of Popes and Emperors, Patriots, Tyrants; of the endless strife between the nobles and people; of the "Sacrifice of the Useless Mouths" and the Plague that ran like a burning flame.
So enthralled was McTaggart that the time passed on flying wings until, at length, the train swept into the last noisy tunnel.
Vanni started. He glanced at his watch.
"Ecco Siena!"—and, at the words, a curious thrill ran through his listener of excitement tinged with awakened pride.
For the vast part his house had played in the wars and government of the city, their reckless heroism and careless prodigality had thrown a new light of fiery romance on this inheritance of his.
With it was blent an odd shrinking, the nervousness of the Englishman before the customs and conventions alien to his normal life.
The train emerged, lights twinkled. The long journey was accomplished.