Then, to avoid tiring his mule, he got off and sat by a tree, at a place where he could see far along the road.

But three o'clock came, and a quarter past, and he began to fear that the count had gone all the way to Trevi.

Indeed, Trevi could not be very far off, he thought.

So he mounted again, and paced down the valley.
He says that in all that time he never thought once of what he should say to the count when he met him, having determined in his mind once and for all what was to be asked; to which the only answer must be "yes" or "no." At last, before he reached the turn in the valley, and just as the sun was passing down behind the high mountains on the left, beyond the stream, he saw the man he had come out to meet, not a hundred yards away, riding toward him on his great horse, at a foot pace.

It was the count, and he seemed lost in thought, for his head was bent on his breast, and the reins hung carelessly loose from his hand.