, and finally one of our horses gave out ere
we were many miles advanced, compelling us to hobble along for the
remainder of the trip at reduced speed. As the shades of evening began
to fall, we saw at intervals sundry persons lurking along the roadway,
clad in long cloaks and conical hats, with the suggestion of the barrel
of a musket about them, and it is probable that we were preserved from a
tragic fate only by the fortunate accident that we were just behind the
mail-coach and might theoretically have hailed it for help had we been
attacked. Meanwhile, my father, with ostensible pleasantry, suggested
that we should hide our gold coin (of which we carried a considerable
store) in various queer, out-of-the-way receptacles. I remember that
an umbrella was filled with a handful or two of the shining pieces, and
stuck with studied carelessness through the straps in the roof of the
vehicle. This was regarded by us children as excellent sport, though I
think there was a lingering feeling of apprehension in the bottom of
my soul. My father kept a moderate sum in napoleons in his pockets, so
that, should the worst happen, the bandits might fancy it was our all.
But then there was our mountain of luggage, incredibly strapped on the
top of the conveyance, and behind it, and no reasonable bandits, one
would suppose, could have failed to be satiated with that. However,
it was written that we were to reach Rome unscathed, albeit long after
dark, and though we did not get past the Porta del Popolo without
suffering legalized robbery on the part of the custom-house officials.
But by that time we were so weary, downcast, and chilled that
depredation and outrage could not rouse or kindle us.

We ended, at last, in one of those refrigerator hotels to which our
travels had made us accustomed, in one of the hollow, dull, untoward
caverns of which I was presently put to bed and to sleep. "Oh, Rome, my
country, City of the Soul!" Oh, Byron, were you an Esquimau?

XIV

Our unpalatial palace--"Cephas Giovanni"--She and George
Combe turned out to be right--A rousing temper--Bright
Titian hair--"All that's left of him"--The pyramidal man of
destiny--The thoughts of a boy are long, long thoughts--
Clausilia Bubigunia--Jabez Hogg and the microscope--A
stupendous surprise--A lifetime in fourteen months--My
father's jeremiades--"Thank Heaven, there is such a thing as
whitewash!"--"Terrible lack o