I sat down on one of the cannon, and leaning on the battlements, surveyed the scene around, below me, with a feeling of rapture, not a little enhanced by the novelty and romance of my situation.  I was alone—­I had no reason to think there was a single human being within hearing.  I was at such a vast height above the town and the shore, that not a sound reached me, except an indistinct murmur now and then, borne upwards by the breeze, and the scream of the sea-fowl as they wheeled round and round my head.  I looked down giddily upon the blue sea, all glowing and trembling in the sunshine:  and the scenery around me was such, as the dullest eye—­the coldest, the most unimaginative soul, could not have contemplated without emotion.  I sat, I know not how long, abandoned to reveries, sweet and bitter, till I was startled by footsteps close to me, and turning round, I beheld a figure so strange and fantastic, and considering the time, place, and circumstance, so incomprehensible and extraordinary, that I was dumb with surprise.  It was a little spare old man, with a face and form which resembled the anatomy of a baboon, dressed in an ample nightgown of flowered silk, which hung upon him as if it had been made for a giant, and trailed on the ground, a yard and a half behind him.  He had no stockings, but on his feet a pair of red slippers, turned up in front like those the Turks wear.  His beard was grizzled, and on his head he wore one of the long many-coloured woollen caps usually worn in this country, with two tassels depending from it, which nearly reached his knees.  I had full time to examine the appearance and costume of this strange apparition as he stood before me, bowing profoundly, and looking as if fright and wonder had deprived him of speech.  As soon as I had recovered from my first amazement, I replied to every low bow, by as low a courtesy, and waited till it should please him to begin the parley.

At length he ventured to ask, in bad provincial Italian, what I did there?

I replied that I was only admiring the fine prospect.

He begged to know, “come diavolo,” I had got there?

I assured him I had not got there by any diabolical aid, but had merely walked through the door.

Santi Apostoli! did not my excellency know, that, according to the laws and regulations of war, no one could enter the fort, without permission first obtained of the governor?

I apologized politely:  “And where,” said I, “is the governor?”

Il Governatore son io per servirla! he replied, with a low bow.

You! O che bel ceffo! thought I—­“and what, Signor Governor, is the use of your fort?”

“To defend the bay and town of Lerici from enemies and pirates.”

“But,” said I, “I see no soldier; where is the garrison to defend the fort?”

The little old man stepped back two steps—­“Eccomi!” he replied, spreading his hand on his breast, and bowing with dignity.