om
whom they had been absent for several days. They had gone to Pisa to
welcome Leigh Hunt to Italy, to meet other friends (among the number
was Byron), and to do some business. Neither Shelley, Williams, nor
the lad, was ever seen alive after that day. As we are indebted to
Hogg for the best pen-pictures of the boy Shelley, so we are indebted
to Trelawney for the best description of the closing scene. So we
shall follow Trelawney's account in the main.

Trelawney was in Leghorn and intended to accompany his friends out of
the harbor in a separate boat, but owing to the refusal of the health
officer of the harbor he was not allowed to go. As from his own vessel
he watched the Ariel, containing the small party happy in the thought
that in seven short hours they should be at home with their loved
ones, his Genoese mate turned to him and said: "They are standing too
much in-shore; the current will set them there." "They will soon have
the land-breeze," replied Trelawney. "Maybe," said the mate, "she will
soon have too much breeze; that gaff topsail is foolish in a boat with
no deck and no sailor on board." Then he added as he pointed to the
southwest, "Look at those black lines and dirty rags hanging on them
out of the sky; look at the smoke on the water; the devil is brewing
mischief."

"Although the sun was obscured by mists," Trelawney writes, "it was
oppressively sultry. There was not a breath of air in the harbor. The
heaviness of the atmosphere and an unwonted stillness benumbed my
senses. I went down into the cabin and sank into a slumber. I was
roused up by a noise overhead, and went on deck. The men were getting
up another chain-cable to let go another anchor. There was a general
stir amongst the shipping; shifting berths, getting down yards and
masts, veering out cables, hauling in of hawsers, letting go anchors,
hailing from the ships and quays, boats sculling rapidly to and fro.
It was almost dusk, although only half-past six o'clock. The sea was
of the color and looked as solid and smooth as a sheet of lead, and
covered with an oily scum. Gusts of wind swept over without ruffling
it, and big drops of rain fell on its surface, rebounding, as if they
could not penetrate it. There was a commotion in the air, made up of
many threatening sounds, coming upon us from the sea. Fishing craft
and coasting vessels, under bare poles, rushed by us in shoals,
running foul of the ships in the harbor. As yet the din and hub