s as the shadows grew larger, and went to rest early; though
there was still a glow along the road through the shorn corn-fields,
and the birds were still awake about the crumbling gray heights of an
old temple. So quiet and air-swept was the place, you could hardly
tell where the country left off in it, and the field-paths became its
streets. Next morning he must needs change the manner of his journey.
The light baggage-wagon returned, and he proceeded now more quickly,
travelling [161] a stage or two by post, along the Cassian Way, where
the figures and incidents of the great high-road seemed already to tell
of the capital, the one centre to which all were hastening, or had
lately bidden adieu. That Way lay through the heart of the old,
mysterious and visionary country of Etruria; and what he knew of its
strange religion of the dead, reinforced by the actual sight of the
funeral houses scattered so plentifully among the dwelling-places of
the living, revived in him for a while, in all its strength, his old
instinctive yearning towards those inhabitants of the shadowy land he
had known in life. It seemed to him that he could half divine how time
passed in those painted houses on the hillsides, among the gold and
silver ornaments, the wrought armour and vestments, the drowsy and dead
attendants; and the close consciousness of that vast population gave
him no fear, but rather a sense of companionship, as he climbed the
hills on foot behind the horses, through the genial afternoon.

The road, next day, passed below a town not less primitive, it might
seem, than its rocky perch--white rocks, that had long been glistening
before him in the distance. Down the dewy paths the people were
descending from it, to keep a holiday, high and low alike in rough,
white-linen smocks. A homely old play was just begun in an open-air
theatre, with seats hollowed out of the turf-grown slope. Marius [162]
caught the terrified expression of a child in its mother's arms, as it
turned from the yawning mouth of a great mask, for refuge in her bosom.
The way mounted, and descended again, down the steep street of another
place, all resounding with the noise of metal under the hammer; for
every house had its brazier's workshop, the bright objects of brass and
copper gleaming, like lights in a cave, out of their dark roofs and
corners. Around the anvils the children were watching the work, or ran
to fetch water to the hissing, red-hot metal; an