It was about half-past one of the morning when a sudden hurricane split the _Vanguard's_ topsails, and then an indescribable scene ensued. An extraordinary tribute was paid to the greatness of the Admiral. The shivering Neapolitans expected even the elements to bow down to the man who, never quite proof against sea-sickness, was at this moment assailed by it in its most violent form. They all crowded into his state-room--I cannot think how many--and the air was filled with shrieks of terror; but none, I am proud to say, from the Royal Family, or Sir William and My Lady, or Donna Rusidda. Indeed, these two ladies were as valiant, and had their sea-legs as firmly, as any in the ship on that awful night. The Admiral had done all in his power for the comfort of the Royal exiles. Not only had the whole ship been smartened up with paint, and every one of the officers given up his berth, but cots had been specially built for them. However, at the last, there had been such haste that no bed-linen had been provided. For the Queen herself, there was help in the shape of My Lady's own bed. With her usual energy and foresight My Lady had disposed her arrangements very well, and had shipped everything of consequence, except such things as were necessarily left for maintaining the usual appearances, at the moment of flight, the value of which I have heard variously estimated from £3000 to £30,000--including, for instance, the splendid State carriage, in which she and Sir William went to the reception of the Turkish Minister, where they stayed until the moment of embarkation, leaving their coach and men peacefully waiting until all the guests had gone; they themselves having walked out at a side door and so down to the landing-place in the Arsenal and the barge of the _Alcmena_. My Lady gave up her bed to the Queen, and betook herself to nursing the Queen's children, poor little creatures, whose olive-complexioned faces turned a frightful colour, and whose little hearts were frightened worse than death. It was on the next day after that, that one little fellow--Prince Albert--having bravely followed the urging that, if he would but eat a hearty meal, he should be cured, was taken violently ill immediately thereon, and after lingering on all day in agony, died in My Lady's arms, with his little arms round her neck, and her trying to keep him in life with the fondest and gentlest and most motherly kisses that ever man saw; thinking, I doubt not, of her own babe somewhere in England, which she had never been allowed to see since they took it away from her younger much than this. Of all that knew, there was not a dry eye in the ship. Even the Queen's proud courage broke, which danger at embarking, sickness, and the prospect of death more imminent from the sea than it had been from the knives of the rebels or the guillotine of the French, had been unable to shake.