about four o'clock
In a moment I saw that it was my brave and affectionate Belviso , and was no little comforted by the thought that here , at any rate , was one heart in Siena generously inclined to mine . We baited at Colle , and rested there two or three hours ; from thence we mounted a very steep hill and reached a country of abounding desolation and misery , where bare grey hills alternated with dense thickets , and were told that there was not a human habitation for the rest of the journey to Volterra . Our guards saw to the priming of their muskets before they started from Colle , and kept a sharp lookout on all sides of the way . We met nothing , however , threatening or otherwise , for nearly half our journey , but somewhere about four o'clock of the afternoon , when we were traversing a barren moor , the corporal gave a sharp cry and reined up his horse . Before I knew what he was about a pistol had been placed in my hands , and he said , `` Every man for himself now . You are free , sir . '' `` How -- free ? ''