"Siena ... Si-e-na!" The train had stopped.
Mario came running up. McTaggart hurried Jill out and into a cab. Purposely, he had "forgotten" to order the carriage.
They wound up the dusty road, glaring white in the morning sun, and through the great frowning wall that clips the city like a girdle.
Jill was too excited to talk, her eyes darting right and left as the high houses closed about them with the menace of their ancient strength.
McTaggart pointed out to her the Grey Wolf on its column, suckling the fabulous Twins.
"Romulus and Remus!" she gasped, with a clutch at Ancient History.
"That's it! The Son of Remus founded the place—so the legend runs—'Senius.' He gave his name to the city—hence 'Siena.'"
Down the one-time "Strada Romana," past the Palezzo Tolomei, they clattered, to the crack of the whip.
"See those lions?" he touched her arm. "Thirteenth Century." She stared—"That's the 'Balzana,' the shield of the Commune, black and white. I'll tell you why. When Senius offered sacrifice to his gods, on his arrival here, from the altar of Diana rose a pure white smoke, and from that of Apollo a dense black one—and ever since it's been on the shields of the city. Makes one think, doesn't it? All those centuries ago."
"It's wonderful!"