I made it straight for time by taking him with me. A second nuisance was, finding, when I set off, that Phillipps had to go to the same place, as his first stage towards Trent. In a narrow road down the hill, out of Caldaro, we met an immense number of carts, loaded with hay, and drawn by oxen, from eighty to a hundred, which was a good delay, and Phillipps's carriage got terribly scratched in passing one. At {314} Egna, I put up at the Krono. I went out to see a priest, who took me to the Franciscans about saying mass tomorrow. I preached England. Saturday, Aug. 31.--I fell into the hands of the sulky driver of yesterday, who undertook to find me a mule to go over the mountains at once to Capriana, but he came last night to say none was to be found; I heard before that there was danger of this in harvest time. I therefore first said mass at the Franciscans', at 3 o'clock, doubtful whether it was not uncanonically early, and at 4 went with my friend driving me, with one horse on the left of the pole, to Cavallesi, a small town in the mountains, which we reached at 8 o'clock. There I saw the physician of Dominica Lazzari, whom Count Passi told me to go to. He was very civil, and recommended me a pleasant guide, who at 9 set off, walking by the pony which I rode to Cavallesi. The day was beautiful, and not too hot for me, though it was for him on foot. It was a most interesting, picturesque ride of 2¼ hours, reminding me of my Sicilian and other rides long since, and I was surprised how this seemed to agree with me now. Capriana is a little very poor village, occupying a spot on an open space, high among the mountains. The very first cottage in the body of the town, and one of the poorest, is where this wonderful being spends her suffering days. The Medico Yoris had written me a note to the primissario, or second priest to the curate, who is Dominica's confessor, who might have helped me about seeing her; but he was not at home, so we went to the house at once. The door of the little place, a part of a building, where Dominica lives with her sister, was locked. The sister was out. I heard her groaning slightly at every breath. She made something of an answer when my guide knocked. He went to seek her sister, and came back saying that she begged us to delay a little, as others had been with her, and she was much fatigued. So we went to the Osteria, and got the best they could give, which was a _brodo d'acqua_, in English, I fancy, tea-kettle broth. This shows that the place is not chosen for its riches to be honoured by God with His wonders. After this pause we returned to the little house, {315} which has a Tyrolese roof overhanging, and a little gallery outside her door. The sister, who is married and has her children about her, took us in, and in an inner room we saw the Addolorata in her bed. Her appearance naturally will not have been