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.