As I sat over my pretended meal, I heard the sirocco moaning without, and at times a splash of rain against the window.

Near me, two military men were exchanging severe comments on Calabria and its people.

"_Che paese_!"-- "What a country!" exclaimed one of them finally in disgust.
Of course they came from the north, and I thought that their conversation was not likely to knit closer the bond between the extremes of Italy.
To my delight I looked forth next morning on a sunny and calm sky, such as I had not seen during all my stay at Cotrone.

I felt better, and decided to leave for Catanzaro by train in the early afternoon.

Shaking still, but heartened by the sunshine, I took a short walk, and looked for the last time at the Lacinian promontory.