Lerici, as the road between Spezia and Sestri is not yet
completed. The groves and vineyards on each side of the road were
filled with nightingales, singing in concert loud enough to overpower
the sound of our carriage-wheels, and the whole scene, as the sun rose
over it, and the purple shadows drew off and disclosed it gradually to
the eye, was so enchanting--that positively I will say nothing about
it.

Lerici is a small fishing town on the Gulf of Spezia. Here I met with
an adventure which with a little exaggeration and embellishment, such
as no real story-teller ever spares, would make an admirable morceau
for a quarto tourist; but, in simple truth, was briefly thus.

While some of our party were at breakfast, and the servants and
sailors were embarking the carriages and baggage, I sat down to sketch
the old grey fort on the cliff above the town; but every time I looked
up, the scene was so inexpressibly gay and lovely, it was with
difficulty and reluctance I could turn my eyes down to my paper again;
and soon I gave up the attempt, and threw away both paper and pencil.
It struck me that the view _from_ the castle itself must be a thousand
times finer than the view of the castle from below, and without loss
of time I proceeded to explore the path leading to it. With some
fatigue and difficulty, and after losing myself once or twice, I
reached the top of the rock, and there a wicket opened into a walled
passage cut into steps to ease the ascent. I knocked at the wicket
with three strokes, that being the orthodox style of demanding
entrance into the court of an enchanted castle, using my parasol
instead of a dagger,[Z] and no one appearing, I entered, and in a few
moments reached a small paved terrace in front of the fortress,
defended towards the sea by a low parapet wall. The massy portal was
closed, and instead of a bugle horn hanging at the gate I found only
the handle and fragments of an old birch-broom, which base utensil I
presently applied to the purpose of a horn, viz. sounding an alarm,
and knocked and knocked--but no hoary-headed seneschal nor armed
warder appeared at my summons. After a moment's hesitation, I gave the
door a push with all my strength: it yielded, creaking on its hinges,
and I stepped over the raised threshold. I found myself in a low dark
vaulted hall which appeared at first to have no communication with any
other chamber: but on advancing cautiously to the end I found a low
door in the