Rule of the Monk; Or, Rome in the Nineteenth Century

by Giuseppe Garibaldi

"In three-quarters of an hour," said the General, "the moon will rise above the mountains, and there is no time to lose."

Thereupon the two men took their way to the port, Giovanni was at his post, and, with the aid of Barberini, in a moment the little skiff was in the water, and the General sat on his cloak as low as possible. After launching the little boat into the sea, Giovanni embarked in the larger one, and having assured himself of the progress of the first, he proceeded towards the yacht, merrily singing.

"Halt! who goes there?" twice cried the men-of-war's men, who had become policemen to the Sardinian ruler. But he sang on, and did not seem to care for their cries. Nevertheless, at the third intimation, Giovanni replied, "Going on board!" At this they seemed satisfied.

Meanwhile the little skiff pursued her course, coasting Carriano, at the distance of two miles from the shore, partly propelling itself, and partly propelled by a boat-hook used in the American fashion. From Carriano to Barabruciata, and thence to the point of Treviso, near which appeared the form of the faithful Fruchianti.

"Nothing new as far as the rocks of Araccio," said Fruchianti.

"Then I push on," answered the General.

And his little boat dashed among the breakers. He gave a glance to the small island, which appeared at a convenient distance, and the tiny skiff was on the high sea.

Garibaldi, seeing the moonlight increase, paddled on with good will, and with the help of the breeze crossed the Straits of Moneta with surprising velocity.

In the moonlight, at a certain distance, every reef appeared a boat; and as the squadron of Batazzi, besides so many launches for the ships of war about Caprera, was also augmented by numerous vessels from Maddalena, the sea all around the island was crowded with vessels, to prevent one man from fulfilling his duty. Nearing the coast of the little island of Giardinelli, not far from Maddalena, the skiff plunged among the broken waters, which is there always, and coasted the shore, already illumined by the moon.

It is a fact that many people on service in every Government affect a great deal of zeal in daylight, and in the presence, or the supposed presence, of the chief. At the arrival of night, however, after a good supper and copious libations to Bacchus—at night, I say, when commanders are sleeping or diverting themselves—zeal and vigilance die in exact proportion to the discipline and the interest which the motive of the watch inspires. Thus, then, one must not ascribe all the merit to him who managed the boat, but more to the sleeping vigilance of those whose duty it was to have kept a better look-out, that he reached the little island safe and sound, without being molested by one solitary call of "Who goes there?"