once more, what do
you mean?"

I did not wait to answer her, but rushed down to the landlord. "Where
does that Count Castrocaro live?" I asked.

"Nowhere in particular, I believe, sir; and for the present he has left
Turin--started for Genoa by the diligence five minutes ago. He's a Gran'
Galantuomo, sir," added he, as I stood stupefied.

"I am aware of that," said I, as I crept back to my room to finish my
packing.

"Did you settle with the Count?" asked my wife at the door.

"Yes," said I, with my head buried in my trunk.

"And he was perfectly satisfied?"

"Of course he was--he has every reason to be so."

"I am glad of it," said she, moving away--"he had a deal of trouble with
those themes of mine. No one knows what they cost him." I could have
told what they cost _me_; but I never did, till the present moment.

I need not say with what an appetite I dined on that day, nor with what
abject humility I behaved to my wife, nor how I skulked down in the
evening to the landlord to apologise for not being able to pay the bill
before I left, an unexpected demand having left me short of cash.
All these, seventeen years ago as they are, have not yet lost their
bitterness, nor have I yet arrived at the time when I can think with
composure of this friend of Gioberti.

Admiral Dalrymple tells us, amongst his experiences as a farmer, that he
gave twenty pounds for a dung-hill, "and he'd give ten more to any one
who'd tell him what to do with it." I strongly suspect this is pretty
much the case with the Italians as regards their fleet. There it is--at
least, there is the beginning of it; and when it shall be complete,
where is it to go? what is it to protect? whom to attack?

The very last thing Italians have in their minds is a war with England.
If we have not done them any great or efficient service, we have always
spoken civilly of them, and bade them a God-speed. But, besides a
certain goodwill that they feel for us, they entertain--as a nation with
a very extended and ill-protected coast-line ought--a considerable dread
of a maritime power that could close every port they possess, and lay
some very important towns in ashes.

Now, it is exactly by the possession of a fleet that, in any future
war between England and France, these people may be obliged to ally
themselves to France. The French will want them in the Mediterranean,
and they cannot refuse when called on.

Count Cavour always kept telling our Forei