bruised and sore in every fibre, I lay down again and became sensible
of a blissful, blissful lull; the machinery had stopped, and with
the mute hope that we were all going to the bottom, I fell tranquilly
asleep.


IV.

It appeared that the storm had really been dangerous. Instead of being
only six hours from Naples, as we ought to be at this time, we were
got no further than Porto Longone, in the Isle of Elba. We woke in a
quiet, sheltered little bay, whence we could only behold, not feel,
the storm left far out upon the open sea. From this we turned our
heavy eyes gladly to the shore, where a white little town was settled,
like a flight of gulls upon the beach, at the feet of green and
pleasant hills, whose gentle lines rhymed softly away against the sky.
At the end of either arm of the embracing land in which we lay, stood
gray, placid old forts, with peaceful sentries pacing their bastions,
and weary ships creeping round their feet, under guns looking out so
kindly and harmlessly, that I think General ---- himself would not
have hesitated (except, perhaps, from a profound sentiment of regret
for offering the violence) to attack them. Our port was full of
frightened shipping--steamers, brigs, and schooners--of all sizes and
nations; and since it was our misfortune that Napoleon spent his exile
in Elba at Porto Ferrato instead of Porto Longone, we amused ourselves
with looking at the vessels and the white town and the soft hills,
instead of hunting up dead lion's tracks.

Our fellow-passengers began to develop themselves: the regiment of
soldiers whom we were transporting picturesquely breakfasted forward,