this he was stationed at Salerno. It was the duty of the
troops to help in the suppression of the smuggling which was being
vigorously carried on along the coast; and Mansana, going out one day
in civilian dress, to obtain information, discovered at a certain
hostelry that a ship, with smuggled goods on board, was lying in the
offing, out of sight of land, but with evident intention of making for
the shore under cover of night. He went home, changed his clothes, took
with him two trusty followers, and as evening came on, rowed out from
the shore in a small, light boat. I heard this story told and confirmed
on the spot; I have heard it since from other sources, and I have
subsequently seen confirmatory accounts in the newspapers; but,
notwithstanding all this corroboration, it is still inconceivable to me
how Mansana, with only his two men, could have succeeded in boarding
the smuggler and compelling her crew of sixteen to obey his orders, and
bring their vessel to anchor in the roadstead.

After the taking of Rome, in which, and in the inundations which
occurred soon afterwards, Mansana specially distinguished himself, he
was sitting one evening outside the very _cafe_ in which he had
challenged the Belgian Papal officer. There he overheard some of his
comrades, just returned from an entertainment, talking of a certain
Hungarian. This gentleman had been drinking pretty freely, and, whilst
under the influence of the insidious Italian wines, had boasted of the
superiority of his compatriots; and on being courteously contradicted
he had worked himself up to the assertion that one Hungarian would be a
match for three Italians. The officers, listening to this tale of brag,
all laughed with the exception of Giuseppe Mansana, who at once
inquired where the Hungarian could be found? He asked the question in a
tone of perfect unconcern, without even raising his eyes or taking his
cigarette from his lips. He was told that the Hungarian had just been
conducted home. Mansana rose to leave.

"Are you going?" they asked.

"Yes, of course," he replied.

"But you are surely not going to the Hungarian?" asked one of the
officers good-humouredly.

But there was not much good-humour in Giuseppe Mansana.

"Where else should I be going?" he replied curtly, as he left the
_cafe_.

His friends followed him in the vain hope of persuading him that a
drunken man could not reasonably be called to account for everything he
might say. But