As I politely refused his request, he climbed to the top of a high rock, and began to hurl stones at me. I found that in the Basse Ville, where the sailors and the shop-keepers live, there was little chance of getting any information about our greatest naval hero. But far above me, dark and frowning, high and strong, were the walls of the citadel. I made my way up a pebbly incline, and presently found myself at the entrance to the fort itself. Inside, a roughly paved road ascended rapidly by means of steps, winding round and round, and ever getting nearer the summit of the rock on which the fort is built. Narrow streets dodged hither and thither. Houses played hide-and-seek in all sorts of strange and smelly places. Hospitals, churches, barracks, houses, canteens, were piled about and on top of one another as though somebody had accidentally upset the whole lot out of a sack. I noticed two intelligent-looking little girls, and I entered into conversation with them. After a time I asked, “Do you go to school?” “Certainly.” “And do you learn history?” “Truly.” “Then who was Nelson?” “Who?” “Nelson.” “Who was he?” I explained, but she knew nothing about him. She had never even heard his name. And yet he blew her native town to pieces, and lost his right eye while he was doing it! A boy who had been listening to our conversation now joined in and said, “I know about Christopher Columbus.” “Well,” said I, “what do you know about him?” “He was born here. I am one of his descendants. Shall I show you the house where he was born?” Now this was the first time that I had ever heard that Christopher Columbus was a Corsican, but I followed the guide, and presently we arrived in front of a ruined house. Near to what had once been a doorway there was a white marble slab, on which were the following words: “Here was born, in 1441, Christopher Columbus, immortalized by his discovery of the New World at a time when Calvi was under the domination of the Genoese. He died at Valladolid on the 20th May, 1550.” So my ramble to Calvi had resulted in my finding, not the spot where Nelson had lost his eye, but the place where the Corsicans say Christopher Columbus was born.