“Ah, the guard of honour, I suppose, for His Holiness,” returned the Austrian, with the vestige of a smile; whereat Colonel Thévenot’s equanimity gave way. “Frankly, sir,” he broke out, “please understand that no living being is allowed to enter here without a written order from General Berthier, the commandant of the town.” “Frankly, sir,” retorted Lebzeltern in his turn, “that does not apply to myself, and I am going to enter.” Happily for all concerned, the situation was dispelled at that moment by the sound of heavy firing from the direction of the harbour, where the British frigates had suddenly come in closer towards the town, with the intention of ascertaining the range of the French artillery, especially of some large cannon on a new fort. The orders of Napoleon himself, who was acquainted with this custom of the British, were positive in regard to such provocations; and it was strictly enjoined upon his officers to take no notice of them except in the event of a serious attack. Nevertheless the garrison of Savona lost its head upon this particular occasion and opened an extensive fire upon the two inquisitive ships. As Lebzeltern described it: “It was a splendid sight; the weather was superb, the sea like a mirror, the whole coast, as well as the English ships, being turned to gold in the sunset. On the side of Savona thundered the cannon, their smoke shot with flame; from the English, though, there came no sound except that of their bands playing their well-known air of ‘Go to bed, go to bed, and get up as quickly as you can!’” In the confusion of what the French imagined to be the preliminaries of an action, the gates of the Vescovado were closed, and Lebzeltern, thus forced to abandon his quest for the moment, turned his footsteps towards the hotel. There was nothing for it, as he saw, but to obtain General Berthier’s permission to see the Pope, with whom alone his mission to Savona was concerned. Having dined therefore, he dispatched a messenger to the Papal _maestro di camera_, Monsignor Doria, bearing a letter from Count Metternich, the Austrian Ambassador in Paris, under whose instructions he was acting, together with a formal request for an audience of the Holy Father. Some explanation is necessary of the origin of Lebzeltern’s mission to Savona; and so I trust the reader will not take it amiss if I venture upon the attempt.