We awoke with the sun shining through our porthole, but the waves rolling high, and the ship laboring heavily. It is now almost a certainty that we cannot reach Naples before Saturday evening late, possibly too late to land us before Sunday morning.
Very rough all day, and everybody gloomy and disappointed except “The quintette,” which feels that they have much to be grateful for.
As it is “Good Friday,” we did not have much music, consequently the dinner was a very solemn and tedious affair. To bed at an early hour.