• 22*2 
LETTERS FROM 
very soon put a stop to his conversation. 
Poor fellow ! he reminded me of Byron’s 
a Licentiate Pedrillo, 
Who several languages did understand, 
But now lay sick and speechless on his pillow.” 
As the wind was contrary and very light, 
we were obliged to row for two or three 
hours, but about noon a fine south-easterly 
breeze sprang up, and enabled us to make 
use of our sails. These were a jib, a low 
sprit-mainsail, and a lateen mizen. We 
kept near to the shore as far as a point of 
land called San Croce, but there was nothing 
very interesting or beautiful in the view. 
Near this point lies the town of Augusta, 
(pronounced by our men “ Ow-oos-ta .”) 
After leaving Point San Croce, our course 
lay at too great a distance from the land for 
us to distinguish more than the bare out¬ 
line, and the atmosphere was so thick and 
