, not to bed, but to our
vehicle, which stood drawn up on the highway, and pass the night as best
we could. I awoke at day-break, and found the postilion yoking the
horses in a perfect hurricane of wind and rain. We reached Civita
Vecchia at breakfast-time, and found the Mediterranean one roughened
expanse of breakers, with the white waves leaping over the mole, and
violently rocking the vessels in the harbour. The steamers from Naples
to Marseilles were a week over due, and the agents could not say when
one might arrive. Time pressed; and after wandering all day about the
town,--one of the most wretched on earth,--and seeing the fiery sun find
his bed in the weltering ocean, I took my seat in the _diligence_ for
Rome.

This was the third time I had passed through that land of death the
Campagna; and that night in especial I shall never forget. My companions
in the _interieur_ were two Dutch gentlemen, and a lady, the wife of one
of them. The rain fell in deluges; the frequent gleams showed us each
other's faces; and the bellowing thunder completely drowned the rattle
of our vehicle. The long weary night wore through, and about four of the
morning we came to the old gate. My passport had been vised with
reference to a sea-voyage; and to explain my change of route to the
officials in Civita Vecchia and at the gate of Rome, and persuade them
to make the corresponding alterations, cost me some little trouble, and
a good many paulos into the bargain. I succeeded, fortunately, for
otherwise I should have had to submit to a detention of several days.
How to make the homeward journey had now become a serious question. The
weather had made the sea unnavigable; and the Alps, now covered to a
great depth with ice and snow, could be crossed only on sledges. I
resolved on going by land to Leghorn,--a wearisome and expensive route,
but one that would show me the old Etruria, with several cities of note
in Italian history. The _diligence_ for Florence was to start in an
hour. I hurried to the office, and engaged the only seat that remained
unbespoke, in the coupe happily, with a Russian and Italian gentleman as
companions. I made my final exit by the Flaminian gate; and as I crossed
the swollen Tiber, and began to climb the height beyond, the first rays
of the morning sun were slanting across the Campagna, and tinging with
angry light the troubled masses of cloud that hung above the many-domed
city.

For a few hours the ride was pl