"What did Messieurs want? To go ashore? With the utmost pleasure. Had they their passports? Of course they had them _viséd_ in Marseilles for Genoa." Buttons looked blank, and feebly inquired: "Why?" "It's the law, Monsieur. We are prohibited from permitting passengers to go ashore unless their passports are all right. It's a mere form." "A mere form!" cried Buttons. "Why, ours are _viséd_ for Naples." "Naples!" cried the Captain, with a shrug; "you are unfortunate, Messieurs. That will not pass you to Genoa." "My dear Sir, you don't mean to tell me that, on account of this little informality, you will keep us prisoners on board of this vessel? Consider--" "Monsieur," said the Captain, courteously, "I did not make these laws. It is the law; I can not change it. I should be most happy to oblige you, but I ask you, how is it possible?" The Captain was right. He could do nothing. The travellers would have to swallow their rage. [Illustration: Genoa, The Superb.] Imagine them looking all day at the loveliest of Italian scenes-- the glorious city of Genoa, with all its historic associations!-- the city of the Dorias, the home of Columbus, even now the scene of events upon which the eyes of all the world were fastened. Imagine them looking upon all this, and only looking, unable to go near; seeing all the preparations for war, but unable to mingle with the warriors. To pace up and down all day; to shake their fists at the scene; to fret, and fume, and chafe with irrepressible impatience; to scold, to rave, to swear--this was the lot of the unhappy tourists. High in the startled heavens rose the thunder of preparations for the war in Lombardy. They heard the sounds, but could not watch the scene near at hand. The day was as long as an ordinary week, but at length it came to an end. On the following morning steam was got up, and they went to Leghorn. "I suppose they will play the same game on us at Leghorn," said Dick, mournfully. "Without doubt," said Buttons. "But I don't mind; the bitterness of Death is past. I can stand any thing now." Again the same tantalizing view of a great city from afar. Leghorn lay inviting them, but the unlucky passport kept them on board of the vessel. The Senator grew impatient, Mr. Figgs and the Doctor were testy; Dick and Buttons alone were calm. It was the calmness of despair. After watching Leghorn for hours they were taken to Civita Vecchia. Here they rushed down below, and during the short period of their stay remained invisible. At last their voyage ended, and they entered the harbor of Naples. Glorious Naples! Naples the captivating! "_Vede Napoli_, _e poi mori_!" There was the Bay of Naples--the matchless, the peerless, the indescribable! There the rock of Ischia, the Isle of Capri, there the slopes of Sorrento, where never-ending spring abides; there the long sweep of Naples and her sister cities; there Vesuvius, with its thin volume of smoke floating like a pennon in the air!