The weather had been beautiful, but, on the eve of the day
fixed for my departure, the wind rose, and the rain fell in torrents.
I observed that the river which passed my window was much swollen,
and rushed with great violence. In the night, I heard its voice still
stronger, and felt glad I had not to set out in the dark. I rose with
twilight, and was expecting my carriage, and wondering at its delay,
when I heard, that the great diligence, several miles below, had
been seized by a torrent; the horses were up to their necks in water,
before any one dreamed of the danger. The postilion called on all the
saints, and threw himself into the water. The door of the diligence
could not be opened, and the passengers forced themselves, one after
another, into the cold water,--dark too. Had I been there I had fared
ill; a pair of strong men were ill after it, though all escaped with
life.
For several days, there was no going to Rome; but, at last, we set
forth in two great diligences, with all the horses of the route. For
many miles, the mountains and ravines were covered with snow; I seemed
to have returned to my own country and climate. Few miles passed,
before the conductor injured his leg under the wheel, and I had the
pain of seeing him suffer all the way, while "Blood of Jesus," "Souls
of Purgatory," was the mildest beginning of an answer to the jeers of
the postilions upon his paleness.
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