mself
on this occasion, and so he yielded to this request, and remained in his
bed. If he had not been convinced that Rollo would be perfectly safe
under the porter's care, he would of course have insisted on going
himself. Rollo was soon dressed, and then going to his uncle's bedside,
he shook hands with him, and bade him good by.

"I shall be looking out for you at the diligence office in Civita
Vecchia," said he, "when the diligence arrives to-morrow morning."

So saying, he took his candle in one hand and his valise in the other,
and sallied forth into the long corridor of the hotel. He had to walk a
a great distance along this corridor, passing a great many doors, with a
pair of boots or shoes before each of them, before he reached the head
of the staircase. He descended the staircase, and at the bottom of it
found the porter waiting for him. The porter had another candle, which
was upon a table in the hall. He took Rollo's candle, and also the
valise, and then unbolted and unlocked the front door. A sleepy-looking
boy was ready to lock it again, after Rollo and the porter had gone out.

So they sallied forth into the cool morning air. There were lamps
burning in the streets, and in one direction, where there was an opening
among the buildings, Rollo could see some faint signs of the dawn in the
eastern sky.

The porter could only speak Italian; so he and Rollo walked along
together in silence through the solitary streets. They soon arrived at
the diligence office, where there was a bright light of lanterns, and a
bustle of people coming and going, and of postilions bringing out
horses. The diligence was all ready before the door. The baggage, which
had been brought for the purpose the night before, was all loaded. Rollo
paid the porter, and then climbed up to his place on the banquette. The
horses were soon harnessed in, and the diligence set off; but there were
several stoppages necessary at police stations and passport offices
before the journey was fairly commenced, so that the sun was rising when
Rollo took his final leave of Rome.

He had a very pleasant journey across the country, and arrived at Civita
Vecchia about three o'clock. As he descended from the coach, a
pleasant-looking man, in a sort of official costume, accosted him,
asking him if he was going to Leghorn in the steamer that afternoon. The
man spoke in English, though with a foreign accent.

"No," said Rollo; "I am going to Marseilles to-mo