"I had been at sea pretty well all my life, and at Naples but two or three weeks, and yet I own I hardly expected to find the machine working so perfectly when I stepped back into it. For those three weeks had been three weeks of such topsy-turvy--more like the Italian opera than life. Yet here was the well-appointed boat, with no one taking any notice of me beyond saluting, even Will, who sat by me, not speaking until I addressed him. When I reached the ship's side and ascended the gangway, the few men who were about at that hour, with the sentries and officers of the watch, were all at the salute, and seemed to have been waiting for my return every minute, since I had landed. My state-room and cabin were lighted, the sentry stood at the door, and everything was arranged to my hand as it would be if I had never left the ship, though my man Tom is ashore, and, by the time, I should judge, still with Virgil. * * * * * "I have been on the poop for I know not how long, pacing up and down and feeling a better man. The sea breeze has blown away all doubts. I must put to sea in two days and get rid of all this. It is not often that I am glad to go to sea, when there is no more to be done than I have hopes of at Malta. I would I could go to Alexandria, and finish those French transports, so that not a man of the Grand Army should ever come back to Europe. I have asked the Grand Signor for a few bombs and fireships, which he should, by this time, have sent. With that not one of them will escape. This is much more to my mind than lying at anchor off Naples; and about this Malta business, too, I fear that His Majesty is misinformed. It is represented that the French are on the point of surrender to the Islanders, and that the grant of so much arms, ammunition, and money, which the Governor of Syracuse is considered to have sent, will make Valetta ready to fall as soon as they sight our topsails. This I do not expect. The Maltese are liars and braggarts, though they can fight pretty well when it comes to a choice between fighting and being butchered like sheep. Unless Valetta has reached the starvation point--and I think it has not--even my fleet could not reduce it by bombardment or assault; and the Maltese might be allowed to attack it from now till the crack of doom, without the defenders needing to fire a single gun. "Still the French have more than once lost heart when their communications have been cut off; and if I go to Malta and summon them from my ships,--'who knows?' as the Spaniards say.