kerchief of gay hues was twisted round a well-shaped but sinewy throat;
a short jacket of rough cloth was decorated with several rows of gilt
filagree buttons; his nether garments fitted tight to his limbs, and
were curiously braided; while in a broad parti-coloured sash were placed
two silver-hilted pistols, and the sheathed knife, usually worn by
Italians of the lower order, mounted in ivory elaborately carved. A
small carbine of handsome workmanship was slung across his shoulder and
completed his costume. The man himself was of middle size, athletic yet
slender, with straight and regular features, sunburnt, but not swarthy;
and an expression of countenance which, though reckless and bold, had in
it frankness rather than ferocity, and, if defying, was not altogether
unprepossessing.

Glyndon, after eyeing this figure for some moments with great attention,
checked his rein, and asked the way to the "Castle of the Mountain."

The man lifted his cap as he heard the question, and, approaching
Glyndon, laid his hand upon the neck of the horse, and said, in a low
voice, "Then you are the cavalier whom our patron the signor expected.
He bade me wait for you here, and lead you to the castle. And indeed,
signor, it might have been unfortunate if I had neglected to obey the
command."

The man then, drawing a little aside, called out to the bystanders in a
loud voice, "Ho, ho! my friends, pay henceforth and forever all respect
to this worshipful cavalier. He is the expected guest of our blessed
patron of the Castle of the Mountain. Long life to him! May he, like his
host, be safe by day and by night; on the hill and in the waste; against
the dagger and the bullet,--in limb and in life! Cursed be he who
touches a hair of his head, or a baioccho in his pouch. Now and forever