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Page 42
To Bettina, the "saint-lover," as Malcom had dubbed her, the city gained
an added interest from having been the home of St. Catherine of Siena,
and the others shared in some degree her enthusiasm. They made a
pilgrimage to the house of St. Catherine, and all the relics contained
therein were genuinely important to them, for, as Betty averred again
and again:--
"You know she did live right here in Siena, so it must be true that this
is her house and that these things were really hers."
They admired Palazzo Publico within and without; chiefly from without,
for they could never walk from the Cathedral to their hotel without
pausing for a time to look down into the picturesque Piazza del Campo
where it stands, and admire its lofty walls, so medi�val in character,
with battlemented cornice and ogive windows.
They walked down the narrow streets and then climbed them. They drove
all over the city within its brown walls; and outside on the road that
skirts them and affords such lovely views of the valley and Tuscan
hills. They were sincerely sorry when at last the day came on which they
must leave it and continue on their way.
"Why are we going to Orvieto, uncle?" asked Malcom, as they were waiting
at Chiusi for their connection with the train from Florence to Orvieto.
"For several reasons, Malcom. In the first place, it is one of the best
preserved of the ancient cities of Italy. So long ago as the eighth
century it was called _urbs vetus_ (old city) and its modern name is
derived from that. Enclosed by its massive walls, it still stands on the
summit of its rocky hill, which was called _urbibentum_ by the old
historian, Procopius. It is comparatively seldom visited by the ordinary
tourist, and is thoroughly unique and interesting. In the second place,
in its Cathedral are most valuable examples of Fra Angelico's, Benozzo
Gozzoli's, and Signorelli's paintings; and, in the third place, I love
the little old city, and never can go to or from Rome without spending
at least a few hours there if it is possible for me to do so. Are these
weighty enough reasons?" and Mr. Sumner drew his arm affectionately into
that of the tall young man he loved so well. "But here comes our train."
"This cable-tram does not look very ancient," said Malcom, when a half
hour later they stood on the platform of the little railway station at
Orvieto and looked up at the hillside.
"No; its only merit is that it takes us up quickly," replied his mother,
as they reached the waiting car. "All try if you can to get seats with
back to the hill, so that you will command the view of this beautiful
valley as we rise."
The city did indeed look foreign as they entered its wall, left the
cable-car, and, in a hotel omnibus, rattled through the streets, so
narrow that it is barely possible for two carriages to pass each other.
"Is everybody old here, do you suppose?" slyly whispered Bettina to
Barbara, as they were taken in charge by a very old woman, who led the
way to the rooms already engaged for the party. "I should be afraid to
come here all alone; everything is so strange.
"Oh! but how pleasant," she added, brightly, as they were shown into a
sweet, clean room, whose windows opened upon a small garden filled with
rose-bushes, and whose two little beds were snowy white. "How delightful
to be here a little later, when these roses will be in bloom!"
The brown withered face of the old chambermaid beamed upon the two young
girls, and showed her satisfaction at their evident delight, and when
she found that they could understand and speak a little of her own
language, her heart was indeed won, and she bustled about seeking
whatever she could do to add to their comfort, just for the pleasure of
being near them.
"It must be a delightful place to visit," said Barbara, when finally
they were alone, "but I should not like to have to live here for any
length of time, I know; so gray, so old, so desolate it all seemed on
our way through the streets," and a slight shiver ran through her at the
remembrance.
Soon they went to the Cathedral; admired its fa�ade, decorated with
mosaics in softly brilliant colors until it looked like a great opal,
shining against the deep blue sky; entered it and saw Fra Angelico's
grand _Christ_, and calm, holy saints and angels; and, close to them
(the most striking contrast presented in art), Luca Signorelli's wild,
struggling, muscular figures.
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