I Sprang Into
The Midst Of A Clamorous Conflict; Half A Dozen Men Were Quarreling
For Possession Of Me.
No sooner was my luggage on shore than they
flung themselves upon it.
By what force of authority I know not, one
of the fellows triumphed; he turned to me with a satisfied smile,
and - presented his wife.
"Mia sposa, signore!"
Wondering, and trying to look pleased, I saw the woman seize the
portmanteau (a frightful weight), fling it on to her head, and march
away at a good speed. The crowd and I followed to the dogana,
close by, where as vigorous a search was made as I have ever had to
undergo. I puzzled the people; my arrival was an unwonted thing, and
they felt sure I was a trader of some sort. Dismissed under
suspicion, I allowed the lady to whom I had been introduced to guide
me townwards. Again she bore the portmanteau on her head, and
evidently thought it a trifle, but as the climbing road lengthened,
and as I myself began to perspire in the warm sunshine, I looked at
my attendant with uncomfortable feelings. It was a long and winding
way, but the woman continued to talk and laugh so cheerfully that I
tried to forget her toil. At length we reached a cabin where the
dazio (town dues) officer presented himself, and this
conscientious person insisted on making a fresh examination of my
baggage; again I explained myself, again I was eyed suspiciously;
but he released me, and on we went. I had bidden my guide take me to
the best inn; it was the Leone, a little place which looked from
the outside like an ill-kept stable, but was decent enough within.
The room into which they showed me had a delightful prospect. Deep
beneath the window lay a wild, leafy garden, and lower on the
hillside a lemon orchard shining with yellow fruit; beyond, the
broad pebbly beach, far seen to north and south, with its white foam
edging the blue expanse of sea. There I descried the steamer from
which I had landed, just under way for Sicily. The beauty of this
view, and the calm splendour of the early morning, put me into
happiest mood. After little delay a tolerable breakfast was set
before me, with a good rough wine; I ate and drank by the window,
exulting in what I saw and all I hoped to see.
Guide-books had informed me that the corriere (mail-diligence)
from Paola to Cosenza corresponded with the arrival of the Naples
steamer, and, after the combat on the beach, my first care was to
inquire about this. All and sundry made eager reply that the
corriere had long since gone; that it started, in fact, at 5 A.M.,
and that the only possible mode of reaching Cosenza that day was to
hire a vehicle. Experience of Italian travel made me suspicious, but
it afterwards appeared that I had been told the truth.
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