I perceived that the
_diligenza_ had just arrived, and that travellers were seizing upon
their bedrooms. The invader, aware of his mistake, discharged a
volley of apologies, and rushed out again. Five minutes later the
door again banged open, and there entered a tall lad with an armful
of newspapers; after regarding me curiously, he asked whether I
wanted a paper. I took one with the hope of reading it next morning.
Then he began conversation. I had the fever? Ah! everybody had fever
at Cotrone. He himself would be laid up with it in a day or two. If
I liked, he would look in with a paper each evening--till fever
prevented him. When I accepted this suggestion, he smiled
encouragingly, cried "_Speriamo_!" and clumped out of the room.
I had as little sleep as on the night before, but my suffering was
mitigated in a very strange way. After I had put out the candle, I
tormented myself for a long time with the thought that I should
never see La Colonna. As soon as I could rise from bed, I must flee
Cotrone, and think myself fortunate in escaping alive; but to turn
my back on the Lacinian promontory, leaving the cape unvisited, the
ruin of the temple unseen, seemed to me a miserable necessity which
I should lament as long as I lived.
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