After spending two or three days longer at Genoa, I engaged for my passage in a felucca to Leghorn, and what is singular, it had the same name, the Divine Providence, as the one I had so lately sailed in from Nice. A great number of vessels of this kind are continually passing from hence to Leghorn, and the felucca men, if they have an idea of any one being about to undertake the voyage, are extremely troublesome in pestering him, as he passes along the streets, to sail with them, and will even fish the servants at his hotel, to gain intelligence of his intended proceedings. In arranging the point of fare with them, it is necessary to be very cautious, as they will ask four times the usual rate. I agreed for twelve francs, the sum which the master of the felucca had found out, that I had paid for my passage from Nice; it cost me, however, half as much more in gratuities, and other expenses, and I had afterward the mortification to find, that other passengers had secured the same accommodations, for only five francs each. About six o’clock on the evening of Saturday, March the 11th, the captain came to apprize me that the vessel was waiting. On getting on board there was very little wind, so that throughout the night, we were obliged to make use of our oars as well as sails; at day-break a breeze sprang up from the eastward, which obliged us to turn back for fifteen miles, towards Porto Fino, where we anchored at ten o’clock, and went on shore to a miserable auberge. Among our passengers were two French gentlemen who were friends, but of very opposite characters; the one was volatile, and thoughtless, and talked of proceeding to Naples, and offering his services to the patriot army, the other who, we understood, had been a merchant, was sedate and thoughtful, so that, I dare say, pounds, shillings, and pence might have been read in his face. The lively one amused us, not a little, with his eccentricity; he spoke of having a mistress at Genoa, whom he had engaged to marry that very morning, but he stated that the present was not the first time of his having proved faithless to her, and seemed to exult in her disappointment; it, however, appeared in the sequel that he could not reconcile himself to give her up, for after we entered Porto Fino, he began to repent, and earnestly solicit his friend to return to Genoa with him, offering to pay all expenses; at length, the other acceded to his wishes, and they left us, which was to myself a source of considerable regret as I lost, at least, one amusing companion, whose language I could understand, and had no one left with whom I could converse. In order to get back to Genoa, these gentlemen had to pull five or six miles, in the midst of a heavy rain, and in an open boat, in a _contrary_ direction, until they reached the new road making between Genoa and Spezzia.