64 
A GIRA THROUGH SICILY. 
all powers of computation. "When the diligence stopped at one 
of the outer gates, we were carefully inspected by a couple of 
officers, in flashy uniforms and feathers, who politely request¬ 
ed us to allow them the pleasure of looking at our passports. 
One stood a little in the background, with pens, ink, and 
paper in his hand : he was evidently a subordinate character, 
notwithstanding the brilliancy of his plumage, which, from a 
hasty estimate, I calculated to consist of the tails of three 
game-cocks; the other was a portly man, of grave and dig¬ 
nified demeanor, rich in tin buttons and red cloth epaulets, 
and with a mustache that would have done credit to the 
Governor himself; in fact, I thought at first that he was the 
Governor, so imposing was his personal appearance. The 
passports he opened slowly and cautiously, either from habit¬ 
ual contempt of the value of time, or a latent suspicion that 
they contained squibs of gunpowder ; and at last, when he 
had fairly spread them out, with the signatures inverted, he 
carefully scanned the contents for five minutes, and then 
calmly addressed us, in bad Italian; “Your names, Signores, 
if you please.” Our friend the Portuguese, being the oldest, 
was accorded the privilege of speaking first. “ My name, 
