94 LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. 



expect it, up jumps the hare ; * Adonde menos se piensa, se levanta 

 la liebre.' All this we found to be very true, after our departure 

 from Rome in order to reach England before the close of summer. 

 I had been above a year and a half in Southern Italy with my 

 sisters-in-law Miss Edmonstone and Miss Helen Edmonstone, and 

 my son Edmund, a youth of eleven years of age. We left Rome 

 with our two servants on the i6th of June 1841 ; and the next day, 

 at four o'clock in the afternoon, we went on board the Pollux 

 steamer, of two hundred horse-power, at Civita Vecchia, and shaped 

 our course for Leghorn. The weather was charmingly serene : 

 scarcely a ripple could be perceived upon old ocean's surface ; and 

 when the night set in, although there was no moon, the brilliancy of 

 the stars made ample amends for her non-appearance. I soon 

 remarked a want of nautical discipline on board the Pollux ; and 

 ere the sun went down, I had observed to a gentleman standing by 

 me, that in all my life I had never been on board of a vessel where un- 

 seaman-like conduct was more apparent. After making choice of a 

 convenient part of the deck, I laid me down in my travelling cloak 

 to pass the night there, having Mr Macintosh's life-preserver in my 

 pocket. He had made me a present of this preserver some twenty 

 years ago, and I have never gone to sea without it. Contrary to 

 their usual custom, my sisters preferred to sleep that night on deck 

 on account of the serenity of the weather ; and as our two servants 

 followed their example, none of our party went below, for my son 

 Edmund had already chosen his spot of retirement near to the place 

 where I was reposing. We had the great awning above us. It had 

 been left expanded apparently more through neglect than with an 

 intention to accommodate the passengers. Suddenly, our sleep was 

 broken by a tremendous crash, which at first I took to be the burst- 

 ing of the boiler. But I was soon undeceived; for, on looking 

 around, 1 saw a huge steamer aboard of us, nearly amid-ships. It 

 proved to be the Monjibello, of 240-horse power, from Leghorn to 

 Civita Vecchia. She had come into us a little abaft the paddle- 

 wheels, with such force that her cutwater had actually penetrated 

 into our after-cabin. In all probability she would have cut us in 

 two, had not her bowsprit fortunately come in contact with out 

 funnel, which was smashed in pieces, and driven overboard by the 



