not dreaming for one moment of pursuing the Italians. Four of his
soldiers--all Neapolitans he heard coming in search of him, while the
bullets still hissed all round; and, as soon as he made a sign to them,
they approached, and took him on their shoulders back to where was what
remained of the regiment. It is highly creditable to Italian unity to
hear an old Piedmontese officer praise the levies of the new provinces,
and the lieutenant took delight in relating that another Neapolitan was
in the fight standing by him, and firing as fast as he could, when a
shell having burst near him, he disdainfully gave it a look, and did not
even seek to save himself from the jattatura.

The gallant lieutenant had unfortunately to leave at last, and I was
deprived of many an interesting tale and of a brave man's company. I
started, therefore, for Viadana, where I purposed passing the Po, the
left bank of which the road was now following parallel with the stream.
At Viadana, however, I found no bridge, as the military had demolished
what existed only the day before, and so had to look out for in
formation. As I was going about under the porticoes which one meets in
almost all the villages in this neighbourhood, I was struck by the sight
of an ancient and beautiful piece of art--for so it was--a Venetian
mirror of Murano. It hung on the wall inside the village draper's shop,
and was readily shown me by the owner, who did not conceal the pride he
had in possessing it. It was one of those mirrors one rarely meets with
now, which were once so abundant in the old princes' castles and palaces.
It looked so deep and true, and the gilt frame was so light, and of such
a purity and elegance, that it needed all my resolution to keep from
buying it, though a bargain would not have been effected very easily. The
mirror, however, had to be abandoned, as Dosalo, the nearest point for
crossing the Po, was still seven miles distant. By this time the sun was
out in all its force, and the heat was by no means agreeable. Then there
was dust, too, as if the carrettieri had been passing in hundreds, so
that the heat was almost unbearable. At last the Dosalo ferry was
reached, the road leading to it was entered, and the carriage was, I
thought, to be at once embarked, when a drove of oxen were discovered to
have the precedence; and so I had to wait. This under such a sun, on a
shadeless beach, and with the prospect of having to stay there for two
hours at