The officer, forming his ragged troops in some sort of order, led the way to the ancient castello, built by the Greek, Georgio Maniace, when he reconquered Syracuse from the Arabs, before the Norman conquest. A lovely, but rather tumbledown black-and-white marble gateway had been built by him to support the two famous bronze rams, made by ancient Greeks in classical times. Seven hundred and seventy years afterwards the gate and its rams were still there to give our entry becoming state. The rams were really very comical, and I had it just on my lips, when I caught Will's hard blue eye, and brought my face to attention. Nor was that the only comical thing about the castle, which was so little used that a fine crop of dwarf stocks were growing right up to the guns. The Governor, Don Giuseppe delle Torre, had chosen rather an _al fresco_ scene for the reception. To be brief, he had had a space cleared among the powder and shot and flour barrels in the deep bomb-proof vaults, which are a feature of fortresses in these parts. There was hardly any light, and there were only three chairs, two of which he hastily assigned to us. I noticed that a bed, with very fine but much-worn Spanish hangings, was being erected in one corner; and I wondered if, as the next move, he would not have the powder taken out and thrown into the sea. In which he would have shown his wisdom, as the castle could not possibly have made any resistance to our fleet, and it might have blown up if a chance shot had found its way into the magazine. Also, I wondered if Will was noticing all these comical details, and looked at him. The icy contempt on his face showed that he had taken the Governor's measure. When we had been bowed into our seats, the Governor bowed again and waited for Will to begin. Generally the stronger waits for the weaker, but in this case the explanation could only come from us. Will began by inquiring, could his Excellency speak Italian? His Excellency, for a wonder, knew what was nominally his native language. Will came to the point at once. He presented the Royal despatch, written in the name of His Majesty, and signed by the Captain-General, the Chevalier Acton, enjoining the Governor in the most pressing manner to welcome and admit the English squadron, going beyond what is usual, and mentioning many novel and unexpected possibilities by reason of His Majesty's good-will and friendship towards the English nation. Would his Excellency, then, give the proper orders for the fleet of his High and Mighty Majesty, the King of Great Britain and Ireland, to be supplied at a proper price with such water and other stores as it might need?