"_'Vanguard,' 12 p.m._--Since I wrote the above, I have had a cocked hat full of strange adventures. I made up my mind to leave the Embassy there and then, lest dear Emma should come back after her sleep to bid me good-night before she returned to Sir William, and I should be weak and try to detain her. Buckling on my sword, I went down to the _portiere_, and asked him if a coach were procurable to take me to the Santa Lucia landing. I had not my pistols with me at the Embassy, because there could be no chance of my needing them, so I thought I would take a coach; for Naples has none too savoury a reputation at night. Unfortunately there was no coach to be had--Emma and Sir William having many horses and every variety of vehicle, and the Embassy standing a little outside the city gate. Besides, all the coaches in the near part of the city were gone to my fête at Virgil's. The _portiere_ was for knocking the men up and giving me one of Sir William's coaches, which he said would take but a very few minutes, the men sleeping in their clothes, except their livery coats, which I consider an unhealthy habit. But of this I would not hear, fearing lest Emma should get the wind. I doubted my strength to go in the face of her hospitable entreaties. "'Nay,' I said, 'try for a _vettura_.' As he prophesied, no _vettura_ was forthcoming, so I determined to walk down to the landing--a very little way. I stepped out at a brisk pace; but when I was under the shadow of the hill which Sir William tells me is Palæpolis, the original citadel of the Greek city, now called Pizzofalcone, under which are clustered some cabins of the lowest class, I was set upon by three or four fellows. Luckily, contrary to my usual custom, I had buckled my sword upon my right-hand side, where I could draw it; and so I whipped it out to defend myself; and spitting the first of them in the stomach, which I knew to be more effective at a pinch than a slash from a man of my small stature, set my back against a wall of the kind which they use for poor buildings in these parts, and which I knew to be there. As they came on, in my excitement, I forgot about the spitting, and splashed for my life. And it saved my life: for a fellow to whom I gave a pretty cut, knew by the shoulder that he was fighting a left-handed man, and called out in the Neapolitan lingo words among which were 'The Admiral! the Liberator of our country!' Instantly the onslaught ceased, and all of them, including he whom I had spitted and the man whose shoulder I had slashed, knelt before me; and though I cannot understand the Neapolitan lingo, I felt sure that they were craving my forgiveness, which I was well ready to grant them, for the rascals had such a respect for their skins that, though there were four of them against a one-armed man, they had not come to quarters close enough to use their dangerous knives.