She comes, majestic with her swelling sails, 
    The gallant bark along her watery way, 
    Homeward she drives before the favouring gales. 
    Now flitting at their length the streamers fly, 
    And now they ripple with the ruffling breeze.

Wednesday, May 2nd. - Steam was up at five o'clock, the wind being still fair but light. Soon it dropped to a calm, and then went round and blew with great force exactly in the opposite direction, dead ahead. The fires had to be put out, for it was so rough we could do no good steaming against the gale. The screw kept racing round and shaking the vessel terribly. Of course I was very ill; but the maids did not mind, and the children rather enjoyed the tumbling about and the water on deck. We continued scudding along through the water, but not making much progress on our course.

Thursday, May 3rd. - The wind kept on increasing, and at last blew quite a gale. We have gone a long way out of our course to the northward, ready for a favourable change, but we can scarcely make any way to the westward.

Friday, May 4th. - A repetition of yesterday - ,

    Beating, beating all the day, 
    But never a bit ahead.

Saturday, May 5th. - A lull at last, and we are able to have the fires lighted and to steam on our course. We made the Island of Scarpanto in the morning. All the afternoon and evening we have been steaming along ten miles to the southward of Crete. Its outline was very beautiful, surmounted by the snow-capped mountains. I was up on deck just in time to behold the most lovely sunset, with exquisite rosy, purple, and crimson tints on sea and sky.

I have not quite got over my attack in Cairo yet, and for the last three days have been completely laid up with a various mixture of land illness and sea sickness. We stopped steaming late in the day, but fires were lighted again in the middle of the night, as the wind was still ahead. There was a discussion whether or not to go round the north side of the Island of Kandia, so as to have a glimpse of the British Fleet at anchor in Suda Bay, if they have already arrived there.

Sunday, May 6th, and Monday, May 7th. - Early in the morning the snowy mountains of Crete were still in sight. Service was held as usual at eleven, but it was too rough in the afternoon for it to be repeated.

Sail and steam, wind and calm, alternated with one another all day. Tom is anxious to sail every mile he can, and yet not to lose any unnecessary time, and finds it exceedingly difficult to combine these two objects.

Tuesday, May 8th. - A fine morning, with a cold strong head breeze. At noon we rejoiced to think that Malta was not more than a few miles ahead, or we should assuredly have failed to reach our port before nightfall. About three we closed in with the land about Marsa Scirocco and Delamara Point, and, after one or two tacks, rounded the Point of Ricasole, and leaving Port St. Elmo on our right, we swiftly glided into the grand harbour of Valetta. We have been here so often that it feels quite like reaching home. We soon found ourselves in our old quarters in the Dockyard Creek, and had scarcely moored before one of the officers came on board with the usual complimentary offers of assistance, whilst directly afterwards came an invitation to a farewell ball at the Palace, given to the Duke of Edinburgh. Our old boatman, Bubbly Joe, took us ashore to dinner, and we found everything looking as bright and cheerful and steep as it always does and always will do; not the least bit altered or modernised. The landlord of the Hotel d'Angleterre was delighted to see us again, and so were his servants, who came flocking from all parts of the house, nearly pulling the children to pieces, and plying our own servants with questions in their anxiety to know all about us.

We had to go back on board the yacht to dress, and then return for the ball, by which time I was so thoroughly tired, and had so bad a headache, that I could not enjoy it much, pleasant as it was. Very soon after supper we came away and had a charming row across the harbour to our snug quarters on board the 'Sunbeam.' These sudden bursts of dissipation on shore are a delightful change after days and weeks at sea.

Wednesday, May 9th. - I was up soon after sunrise and admired this often-abused creek as much as I always do. The stone houses, the carved and coloured verandahs of bright flowers, the water lapping the very door-steps, the gaily painted boats with their high prows at either end, the women in their black dresses and faldettas, and black-robed priests, all helped to carry the imagination over the Mediterranean and up the Adriatic to lovely Venice. At this hour in the morning there were not many English soldiers or sailors to spoil the illusion.

Malta is essentially a border-land - African by geographical configuration, European politically, and assuredly Asiatic in its language, its buildings, and in the manners and customs of the natives. We gave everybody on board a holiday, and the chance of a run ashore to-day to stretch their legs after their long sea voyage. Tom went on board the 'Sultan' to see the Duke of Edinburgh and his splendid ship. Whilst at breakfast I received an intimation that the Duke of Edinburgh wished to come and examine the yacht. His Royal Highness arrived soon afterwards, quite unattended, in a beautiful ten-oared barge, and paid us a long, visit, inspecting the yacht minutely and looking at all the pets. He took a great interest in our voyage and courses, as well as in the numerous curiosities, knowing at once from what place each had been procured. The Duke, who had taken very nearly the same cruise himself in the 'Galatea' a few years ago, inquired very kindly after all his old friends at Tahiti, Hilo, Honolulu, and many other places. The Duke is very kind to everybody here. He is much liked by his brother officers in the squadron, and both H.R.H. and the Duchess seem to have made themselves most popular here during the winter. The officers of the 'Sultan,' several of whom are old friends of ours, appear to think themselves fortunate indeed in having such a commanding officer, whilst on shore his approaching departure is universally regretted. Everybody seems full of their Royal Highnesses' winter ball, which must have been a most brilliant affair.

After the Duke's departure we went ashore again, called on various friends before luncheon, and went over the palace and through the armoury. Then we took a walk down the Strada Reale, the shopping street of Valetta, until it was time to go on board to receive some friends to tea. The shops are full of coral, lace, gold and silver filigree work, and a new sort of lace they make in Gozo, of white silk, in beautiful patterns. It has been manufactured only during the last few years, and varies much in quality and design. Some forty or fifty friends came on board and amused themselves looking at our curiosities and photographs until long past the dinner hour. We had to hurry on shore to dine, and go afterwards to the Opera Manoel. The new Grand Opera House is not to be opened until next October. It had been blowing fresh and strong from the westward all day, but to-night, as we rowed across the harbour, the breeze had dropped to a flat calm, and Tom is most anxious to be off at daybreak.

Thursday, May 10th. - I was up before sunrise. A fresh fair wind was blowing, and as soon as the children could be got ready we all went ashore to the market, which was crowded with people, and full of fish, meat, and all spring vegetables and fruit. We were to start at 6.30, so there was no time to lose, and laden with lovely bouquets of flowers we hastened on board; but it was nine o'clock, after all our haste, before we were fairly off, through some mistake about the bill of health.

Malta is certainly the most delightful place for yachting winter quarters, with its fine healthy harbour, charming society, very cheap living, and abundance of everything good. It is in proximity to many pleasant places, and most interesting excursions can easily be made to Sicily and Italy, or the coast of Africa. To-day we glided along the coast, past the strongly fortified little island of Consino, standing boldly out in mid-channel between Malta and Gozo. The Mediterranean appears to us a highway after the lonely oceans and seas we have been sailing over. Within one hour this morning, we saw more ships than in the whole of our passage from Valparaiso to Tahiti and Yokohama. Towards the evening we could see the island of Pantellaria in the distance. We retain a lively remembrance of it from having been becalmed just off it in the 'Albatross' for three weary days and nights. It was after this and a long series of other vexations and delays that Tom and I registered a vow never to go a long voyage again in a yacht without at least auxiliary steam power.

Friday, May 11th. - At 2.30 a.m. Pantellaria was abeam. At five the homeward-bound P. and O. steamer passed us quite close, and at six we met the outward-bound P. and O. steamer. At eight we passed Cape Bon and sailed across the mouth of the Bay of Tunis, in the centre of which is Goletta, the port of Tunis, the site of the ancient city of Carthage. Once we anchored close by that place for two or three days, and on that occasion I collected enough varieties of marble and mosaic from the old palaces to make some beautiful tables when we got home. In the afternoon and evening we made the Fratelli and the Sorelle Rocks, and still later the little Island of Galita. There were many steamers going in all directions, and it struck one very forcibly how much this little islet in mid-channel stands in need of a light.

Sunday, May 13th. - The wind was dead ahead, and the sea of that remarkably confused character for which the Mediterranean is famous. It seemed as if the wind of yesterday, the wind of to-morrow, and the wind of to-day, had all met and were bent on making a night of it. We had service at eleven and four. The chart, now a good old friend, for it has been used by us on so many Mediterranean voyages, showed that this is the fourth noontide we have spent within a radius of thirty miles of this particular spot; within a radius of sixty miles we have spent at least three weeks of our lives at various periods. This does not of course include voyages in steamers which are not recorded in the chart.

Monday, May 14th. - About breakfast time to-day we crossed the meridian of Greenwich; and this virtually completed our voyage round the world, our original point of departure having really been Rochester, which is a few minutes to the east of Greenwich. The wind changed in the middle of the day, and we passed through a large fleet of merchantmen hove-to under shelter of Cape de Gat, where they had collected, I suppose, from various ports in Spain and Italy.

Tuesday, May 15th. - This was a somewhat sad day, many of our pets dying from the effects of the cold wind or from accidents. The steward's mocking-bird from Siam, which talked like a Christian and followed him about like a dog, died of acute bronchitis early this morning; and his monkey, the most weird little creature, with the affectionate ways of a human friend, died in the afternoon, of inflammation and congestion of the lungs. Two other monkeys and several birds also expired in the course of the day.

This evening 'Beau Brummel,' the little pig I brought from Bow Island, in the South Pacific, died of a broken spine, as the doctor, who made a post-mortem examination in each case, discovered. A spar must have dropped upon poor piggy accidentally whilst he was running about on deck, though of course no one knew anything about it. I am very sorry; for though I must confess he was somewhat greedy and pig-like in his habits, he was extremely amusing in his ways. He ran about and went to sleep with the pugs, just like one of themselves. Besides, I do not think any one else in England could have boasted of a pig given to them by a South-Sea-Island chief. Probably 'Beau Brummel' was a lineal descendant of the pigs Captain Cook took out in the 'Endeavour.'

The bodies were all placed together in a neat little box and committed to the deep at sunset, a few tears being shed over the departed pets, especially by the children.

Tuesday, May 15th. - Cape de Gat was abeam early this morning. The wind fell light, but Tom hoped it would freshen again; otherwise, with steam we might easily have got into Gibraltar to-night. As it was, fires were not lighted until ten o'clock.

Wednesday, May 16th. - At 3 a.m. I was called to see the light on Europa Point, and stayed on deck to watch the day dawn and the rising of the sun. It was not, however, a very agreeable morning; the Levanter was blowing, the signal station was enveloped in mist, the tops of the mountains of Africa were scarcely discernible above the clouds, and Ceuta and Ape's Hill were invisible. Algeciras and San Roque gleamed white on the opposite shore of the bay, while the dear old Rock itself looked fresher and cleaner than usual, exhaling a most delicious perfume of flowers. As the sun rose, the twitterings of the birds in the Alameda sounded most homelike and delightful.

We had dropped our anchor inside the New Mole about 4.30, and before six the familiar sounds of English martial music could be heard from all the different barracks, as the regiments came marching down the hill and along the Alameda to the north front with all their baggage, military trains, tents, and ambulances, for a day's camping out. We were anxious to get on shore to see about coals, water, and provisions, but no health-boat came near us. About seven o'clock we started in despair, first to hail a policeman on shore (at a most respectful distance), to inquire where we could get pratique; then we procured it, and sent word back to the 'Sunbeam' that she was out of quarantine, and might hoist the yellow flag. We landed, went to the market, bought some lovely carnations stuck in a prickly-pear leaf to keep them fresh, and then went to the Hotel Royal - kept by the landlord of the old Club House Hotel, where we had so often stayed - to order breakfast. Our old friends the servants greeted us at every step from the house-door to the coffee-room, and we were taken special care of by a waiter who remembered us. After breakfast we went to pay some visits. We thought we ought to go and look at the galleries and Signal Station, as one or two of our party had never been here before; so we started, some on foot and some on donkeys. All the way up the steep streets to the Moorish castle, girls met us, selling lovely scarlet carnations and yellow roses. The galleries have not changed in the least since our last visit, but our soldier-guide told us they were daily expecting some big guns to come out, and he gave us a minute explanation how they were to be mounted. It was a pleasant ride, neither too hot nor too cold. Every crevice and interstice between the rocks was full of wild flowers, looking bright and pretty, though somewhat insignificant after the gorgeous tropical blossoms our eyes have been lately accustomed to. The fog had cleared off, and the view was beautiful; ships lay in the bay below us from all parts, including a Portuguese gunboat. We saw also one of the two old eagles sitting near her nest in the accustomed place; this year she has only one young one. We did not see the monkeys, on account of the Levanter, but their number has increased to twenty-four, so that there is no immediate fear of their becoming extinct.

At half-past six p.m. we weighed anchor and steamed out of the anchorage inside the New Mole. In the straits the wind was fair, so the funnel was soon lowered, and the screw feathered, and we were racing along under sail alone. Off Tarifa we found quite a gale blowing, and the wind continued fresh and fair throughout the night.

Thursday, May 17th. - The strong fair wind dropped, and then came dead ahead, and off Cadiz we had to get up steam. There was a strong wind off the mountains near Cape Sagres, and while Tom was below and the men were busy reefing the sails, we nearly ran ashore. Luckily I noticed our danger and called Tom, who came up just in time to alter the helm, when the yacht went round like a top, though the shore was too close to be pleasant. It only shows how easily an accident may occur. Both our fishermen-mates could not bear to be idle, and always considered looking out an insignificant occupation, and so neglected that important duty to assist with the sails.

Off Cape St. Vincent it blew so hard that we were afraid we should be obliged to bring up in the bay of Sagres; but we found that it was only a land breeze, and that it was much smoother outside than we had expected.

Friday, May 18th. - Fresh breeze. We met many steamers going down the coast with all sail set. After passing Cape Espichel the wind increased to a northerly gale, against which it was impossible to proceed. We therefore put into Lisbon. The mountains at the mouth of the Tagus, the tower and church of Belem, and the noble river itself looked even more beautiful in the sunset than my recollection led me to expect. We soon landed and had an excellent dinner at the Hotel Braganza, where we had stayed before, and where we were at once recognised and cordially received by the same landlord and landlady we remembered in 1861.

After dinner we went for a walk. One of the things we saw during our stroll was the fine statue of Luiz de Camoens, specially interesting to us, as we had so recently seen the place where he passed many of the weary years of his exile. Rolling Motion Square was as giddy as ever. It was a curious fancy to pave it in such a way as to make it look like the waves of the sea, perpetually moving; and it must be a severe trial to the peripatetic powers of those who have not quite recovered their sea legs.

Saturday, May 19th. - We were off early; it was a lovely day, and we had a pleasant drive to Cintra. On our arrival we mounted donkeys and went to Pena, the beautiful palace of the ex-King Ferdinand, situated at the top of the mountains. It is an extraordinary-looking place, the different parts being built in every imaginable style of architecture, with exquisite carving and old tiles that would delight the heart of a connoisseur. One of the most prominent objects near the Palace of Pena is the statue of Vasco da Gama, nobly placed on a pedestal of natural rocks, piled on the summit of a mountain peak, and worthy of the adventurous traveller it is erected to commemorate. The gardens are full of camellias, roses, bougainvillea, &c. We lunched at the excellent hotel, and came to the conclusion that Cintra is the place, not only 'to spend a happy day,' but many happy months. It is always pleasant to revisit places of which you have agreeable reminiscences, and to find your expectations surpassed instead of disappointed.

We had a hot drive back to Lisbon, and then went by tram to Belem, where we spent some time in the church and in wandering through its exquisite cloisters. The first stone was laid in 1500, and the name changed from Bairro de Restello to Belem or Bethlehem by Prince Henry of Portugal, the great promoter of maritime discovery in that century. It was built specially to commemorate the successful voyage of Vasco da Gama, who returned from the discovery of India in 1499.

Tom met us with the yacht, and, we went on board with the intention of proceeding straight to sea. But after passing through the Canal del Norte a heavy gale obliged us to anchor in Cascaes Bay for the night, not far from a small schooner yacht with three ladies on board. It was rather rough, and we were very tired, or I think we should have ventured to pay them a visit, even at that late hour. It is absurd to stand upon ceremony when travelling; but I scarcely know what the strict etiquette would be on such an occasion - whether they, as first anchored in the bay, should call on us, or we on them, as probably the greater travellers and out longer at sea.

Sunday, May 20th. - Weighed at 5 a.m. There was a dense fog off Cape del Roca, and the steam-whistle, foghorns, and bell were constantly kept going, with lugubrious effect. We had service at eleven and 4.30. Passed the Burlings at 1.30. Heavy swell all day.

Monday, May 21st. - Rough and disagreeable. Off Viana at noon. Passed Oporto and Vigo in the course of the afternoon.

Tuesday, May 22nd. - If yesterday was bad, to-day was worse. We hove to for some time under the shelter of Cape Finisterre, then went on again for a short distance; but at 1.30 a.m. on the 23rd we were obliged to put round and wait for daylight.

Wednesday, 23rd, and Thursday, 24th. - In the course of the day the weather mended, though the sea still continued rough, and our course was really in the direction of America rather than England. In the evening of the 24th we were able to light fires, and, with the assistance of steam, to keep nearly on our proper course.

Saturday, May 26th. - Saw the first English land, the Start, at 2.30 a.m. Wind continued fresh and fair, but at noon dropped calm, and we had to steam through the Needles instead of sailing, as we had done on our way out. We reached Cowes about 3 p.m., and were immediately welcomed by several yachts, who dipped their ensigns and fired their guns. We landed, and were warmly greeted by many friends, and, after sending off telegrams and letters, re-embarked and proceeded towards Hastings. We were anxious to land by daylight, but this was not to be. So it turned out to be midnight before we reached Beachy Head and could discern the lights of Hastings shining in the distance. As we drew near to our anchorage we could see two boats coming swiftly towards us from the shore. The crews were members of the Royal Naval Artillery Volunteers, and as they came alongside they raised a shout of welcome. Hastings had been expecting us all the afternoon, and late as was the hour, 1.30 a.m., we were immediately surrounded by a fleet of boats, and many willing hands seized our heterogeneous cargo and multitudinous packages, and before daylight all had been safely landed on the pier. We committed ourselves to the care of the R.N.A.V., and landed in their boats, and at 4.30, proceeding to the Queen's Hotel, we had a joyous meeting with T.A.B. and Maud.

How can I describe the warm greetings that met us everywhere, or the crowd that surrounded us, not only when we landed, but as we came out of church; how, along the whole ten miles from Hastings to Battle, people were standing by the roadside and at their cottage doors to welcome us; how the Battle bell-ringers never stopped ringing except during service time; or how the warmest of welcomes ended our delightful year of travel and made us feel we were home at last, with thankful hearts for the providential care which had watched over us whithersoever we roamed?

    I travell'd among unknown men, 
      In lands beyond the sea, 
    Nor, England! did I know till then 
      What love I bore to thee.