On My Last Evening Don Pasquale Gave A Good Account Of The Sky; He Thought I Might Hopefully Set Forth On The Morrow, And, Though I Was To Leave At Eight O'clock, Promised To Come And See Me Off.

Very early I looked forth, and the prospect seemed doubtful; I had half a mind to postpone departure.

But about seven came Don Pasquale's servant, sent by his master to inquire whether I should start or not, and, after asking the man's opinion, I decided to take courage. The sun rose; I saw the streets of Catanzaro brighten in its pale gleams, and the rack above interspaced with blue.

Luckily my carriage-owner was a man of prudence; at the appointed hour he sent a covered vehicle - not the open carozzella in which I should have cheerfully set forth had it depended upon myself. Don Pasquale, too, though unwilling to perturb me, could not altogether disguise his misgivings. At my last sight of him, he stood on the pavement before the hotel gazing anxiously upwards. But the sun still shone, and as we began the descent of the mountain-side I felt annoyed at having to view the landscape through loopholes.

Of a sudden - we were near the little station down in the valley - there arose a mighty roaring, and all the trees of the wayside bent as if they would break. The sky blackened, the wind howled, and presently, as I peered through the window for some hope that this would only be a passing storm, rain beat violently upon my face. Then the carriage stopped, and my driver, a lad of about seventeen, jumped down to put something right in the horses' harness.

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