scended we arrived at a height from which, looking back, we could see
the whole of Lombardy spread at our feet; a vast, glittering,
indistinct landscape, bounded on the north by the summits of the Alps,
just apparent above the horizon, like a range of small silvery clouds;
and on the east a long unbroken line of bluish light marked the far
distant Adriatic; as the day declined, and we continued our ascent
(occasionally assisted by a yoke of oxen where the acclivity was very
precipitate), the mountains closed around us, the scenery became more
wildly romantic, barren, and bleak. At length, after passing the
crater of a volcano, visible through the gloom by its dull red light,
we arrived at the Inn of Covigliajo, an uncouth dreary edifice,
situated in a lonely and desolate spot, some miles from any other
habitation. This is the very inn, infamous for a series of the most
horrible assassinations, committed here some years ago. Travellers
arrived, departed, disappeared, and were never heard of more; by what
agency, or in what manner disposed of, could not be discovered. It was
supposed for some time that a horde of banditti were harboured among
the mountains, and the police were for a long time in active search
for them, while the real miscreants remained unsuspected for their
seeming insignificance and helplessness; these were the mistress of
the inn, the cameriere, and the curate of the nearest village, about
two leagues off. They secretly murdered every traveller who was
supposed to carry property--buried or burned their clothes, packages,
and vehicles, retaining nothing but their watches, jewels, and money.
The whole story, with all its horrors, the manner of discovery, and
the fate of these wretches, is told, I think, by Forsyth, who can
hardly be suspected of romance or exaggeration. I have him not with me
to refer to; but I well remember the mysterious and shuddering dread
with which I read the anecdote. I am glad no one else seems to
recollect it. The inn at present contains many more than it can
possibly accommodate. We have secured the best rooms, or rather the
_only_ rooms--and besides ourselves and other foreigners, there are
numbers of native travellers: some of whom arrived on horseback, and
others with the Vetturini. A kind of gallery or corridor separates the
sleeping rooms, and is divided by a curtain into two parts: the
smaller is appropriated to us, as a saloon: the other half, as I
contemplate it at this