ning
sunlight playing on its rugged shores, revealed a white road cut in the
rocky cliffs, zigzagging up the side of the hill from the village at the
base to the village on the summit. As the steamer coasted the Italian
shore, we saw dimly through the mist the bay and town of Salerno, then
picturesque Sorrento perched among the rocks, and, in the distance,
fog-crowned Mount Vesuvius with a thin column of smoke ascending from
the crater, and many towns and villages at its base. Directly ahead of
us were the bay of Naples and the city, partially hidden from our sight
by a fog. Just before reaching the quarantine station a small steamer
crowded with passengers emerged from the fog and crossed the course of
the Moltke, narrowly escaping destruction.

The Moltke dropped anchor at quarantine and a yellow flag was run to the
top of the mast to remain floating there until the Italian physician had
completed his examination and was convinced that there were not, and had
not been, any cases of plague, cholera, or contagious disease on the
ship. During the detention at quarantine a large mail was brought on
board. We crowded eagerly into the office inquiring for letters. The
stewards, not taking time to distribute the mail in the boxes, called
out the addresses, and little thought was given to anything else until
letters and papers were obtained and the news from home devoured.

The fog soon rolled away and Naples, beautifully situated on the
crescent-shaped shores of the bay, was disclosed to view. From the deck
of the steamer we saw a picture unsurpassed in color and composition
by any previously beheld, excepting, perhaps, the view of Constantinople
from the Bosporus, or the panorama of Algiers seen from the sea; but
each one of the three pictures was unique and beyond comparison. But
here, as at Constantinople, distance lent an enchantment to the view;
for a closer inspection after landing revealed on the white and yellow
and pink buildings ravages of time and unsightly stains of smoke and
grime unnoticed from the bay.

[Illustration: THE GREAT DOORWAY OF THE TEMPLE OF HORUS AT EDFU.]

We had no sooner reached the street, ready for sight-seeing, than the
cabriolet drivers thronged about, importuning us to ride in the low open
carriages that comfortably carry two persons.

"How much to the Cathedral?" we asked one of the drivers, using an
expression that we thought the Italian might comprehend.

"One lira the course, one