stationed a little from the road, shouted, “Vivano gl’ Inglesi!  Vivano gl’ Inglesi!” At the breastworks where we are standing, the word was given to break ranks, and skirmish.  Instantly they sprang over the wall, and took position behind the trees, to shoot “wherever they saw a head.”  Each soldier had his “covering man,”—­a comrade stationed about ten feet behind him, whose duty it was to keep his own piece charged ready to kill any of the enemy who might attempt to pick off the leading man while the latter was loading.  One of my young friends had the hammer of his rifle shot off in his hand.  He kept his position till another weapon was passed out to him.  The action lasted till evening, when the enemy drew off, there being various and uncertain reports as to their loss.  Our British cousins had some ten wounded, besides the one killed.  Fighting royalists, we will mention here, was no fancy-work about that time, as the Neapolitans had an ugly trick of extinguishing the eyes of their prisoners, and then putting their victims to death.

We return to our carriage, drive into a sheltered spot, and give the word of command to Antonio to open the hamper and deploy his supplies, when hungry soldiers vie with the ravenous traveller in a knife-and-fork skirmish.  No fault was found with the cuisine of the Hotel de Grande Bretagne.

The rations disposed of, we set off again for Santa Maria.  Arrived at the village, at the request of our companions, we visit with them a hospital, to see one of their comrades, wounded in the action of the preceding day, and, as we are known to profess the healing art, to give our opinion as to his condition.  We enter a large court-yard surrounded with farm-buildings, one wing of which is devoted to hospital purposes.  We find the wards clean and well ventilated, and wearing the look of being well attended.  This favorable condition is owing in great measure to the interposition and supervision of several ladies, among whom are specially mentioned the two daughters of an English clergyman, without omitting the name of the Countess della Torres.  The wounded comrade of our friends had been struck by a ball, which had not been readied by the probe, and was supposed to have entered the lung.  The poor young fellow draws his rapid breath with much pain, but is full of pluck, and meets the encouraging assurances of his friends with a smile and words of fortitude.  Some time afterwards we learn that he is convalescent, though in a disabled state.

It now becomes necessary to say our mutual farewells, which we do as cordially as though we had been old friends.  We go our respective ways, to meet once more in Italy, and to renew our acquaintance again in London, where we subsequently spend a pleasant evening together by a cheerful English fireside.