At the tavern another
lined my wallet with bread, sausages, olives, dried figs and cheese, while
I was changing into horseman's kit.
I put into the wallet my money, more than enough cash for my journey home,
and Vedia's letter. I then mounted, gave my boys their orders and set off
at an easy canter. I knew I must show no signs of haste until I was on the
Highroad, so I took my time about working round to it. Once on the _Via
Tiburtina_, where horsemen at a tearing gallop, going in either direction,
were too common a sight to cause any remarks, I let out my mettlesome
mount and covered the remainder of the twenty-four miles to Tibur not long
before noon.
Between the bridge over the Anio and Tibur are a number of hilltops, from
each of which one has a fine view of Rome, if the weather is clear and
bright. The weather was very bright and clear and the views very fine. At
each hilltop I checked my mount, wheeled him and remained so for sometime,
contemplating the magnificence I might never see again, the glory upon
which my gaze, most likely, would never again feast. I should have felt my
eyes fill with tears at each of these prospects, the viewing of which was,
each time, in the nature of a last farewell.
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