Richard went to Paris on the 15th of July, 1882, and I followed him on the 22nd, taking my niece Blanche Pigott with me, and joined Richard and Captain Cameron. We saw a great deal of the traveller De Brazza and his brother, and on the 26th we bid good-bye to Cameron, and we three left for Turin, where our niece, who was for the first time in Italy, enjoyed the scene of the Piazza and Castle by moonlight, and a drive up to the Superga. The next day we arrived in Venice. There is always something amusing to people who have seen everything themselves, in taking a fresh young girl about, as long as she is fresh. She was just out of her convent, and Richard and I, having no children, thought it rather fun having a daughter. We arrived on the last day of July. [Sidenote: _The Great Trieste Exhibition_.] Next day, on the 1st of August, there was the opening of a Grand International Exhibition at Trieste. The City was illuminated at night almost as brilliantly as Venice had been for the Congress, and Trieste illuminated makes a grand effect with its rising mountain background. The Archduke Charles Louis was there to open it, and the Emperor and Empress, Prince Rudolf, and Princess Stephanie came later on. This had been a hobby of our (then) Governor's (Baron de Pretis) for a very long time, and for months and months endless workmen had been erecting magnificent buildings at the edge of the sea--I should say for a mile in length--all along the fashionable drive called St. Andrea. This great day was devoted to officialdom, and receptions, and bands, and at night Baron Morpurgo had one of his boats out, and supper on board, for his friends to see the illuminations. However, at night, there was an _émeute_ in the town, begun by the Italianissimi. [Sidenote: _Émeute at Trieste_.] Nothing was talked of but the _émeute_. Some Italians had thrown a bomb as an Austrian regiment was passing, but it did not go off till the wrong moment, so only a policeman's hand was crushed, and our poor friend Dr. Dorn, of the _Triester Zeitung_, had his leg shattered, was carried home in a pitiable state, and months after I saw the large pieces of bone that had come out of his leg. There were four men concerned in the throwing of the bombs, the chief of which was one Oberdank, a deserter from the 22nd Regiment of Infantry; they were taken at Ronchi. This had the effect of driving everybody away from the Exhibition. The people who had come from foreign parts to exhibit, swore they would not stay, that they did not feel safe, and they wanted to pack up their things. The Exhibition was always empty, which, of course, was the object of the Italians. Blanche and I went down one morning, and we saw everything most beautifully, for there were not twenty people in it.