She received this in her mountains one hour before the train left which connected with the express for Marseilles. Taking just time to pack a bag, she started and reached Marseilles the next day, believing that it was only necessary to arrive on the quay in order to take the first boat, as in the Jules Verne story. All day long she trotted from the Cannebière to the Government Docks, asking everybody, Customs officers, police, sailors, etc., where one took the boat for Malta. She understands nothing whatever about steamship companies, time-tables, etc. Finally her cabman saw that she was not making any progress, so he took her to Naval Headquarters. She says she can’t tell an admiral from a station-master because their uniforms are so much alike; so you can see how they must have laughed at Headquarters when she said that she wanted to see her husband at Malta. Simply that and nothing more. In short, they explained to her that the mail-boat had left the evening before, and there would not be another for a week, so that she could not reach Malta for ten or eleven days. The little lady was beside herself. A man, you or I, would have said, “To Hell with it!” But I believe that when a woman gets it into her head to see her husband she would go all the way on her elbows rather than give up. She took the train for Italy and went the whole way round, Nice, Genoa, Rome, Naples, Reggio, the Strait, Messina, and Syracuse--three days and a half without stopping and third class because she was afraid her money would give out. She herself does not remember how she was able to fix things so as to have the passports and that sort of thing. All she remembers is that she showed all the authorities her marriage certificate and her husband’s telegram. They tried everywhere to stop her. Then she would start explaining and crying and it would end by her being permitted to go on. Add to this that she can’t even say bread in Italian! She ate as she could, afraid to get out of the train in a station for fear it would go off and leave her. It made no difference, she stuck it out and she reached Syracuse. The mail-boat was not starting for two days and she hadn’t enough cash left to pay for the passage. At the French Consulate they sent her away because she was neither a pauper nor anything else, nor was she on Government service. They told her to write home for money as the telegraphic money orders no longer exist, and that writing would take a week or more.