Thus far the disguise had possessed nothing but a serious character in the minds of the wearers. By means of this disguise they had hoped to escape, and the costumes, being thus a help to safety, had been dignified in their eyes. But now, when the danger was over, and safety a.s.sured, there was nothing to hide from their eyes the unutterable absurdity, the inconceivable ludicrousness of their appearance. As David"s laugh burst forth, each turned his eyes upon the other, and saw how it was.
Then they all burst forth! It was a cataclysm of laughter. The boys swayed backward and forward, and danced up and down, and shouted, and yelled with laughter. Uncle Moses stood with his eyes shut and his figure bent double. Frank stared at each one in succession, and then at himself, giving a scream at each figure. Clive laughed till he sank down; and Bob, flinging himself upon the ground in a perfect paroxysm, rolled over and over, and kicked, and yelled, and fairly howled in one prolonged and uproarious cachinnation.
The uproar aroused the house.
The driver hurried out of the barn and joined in the roar.
The hostler followed him.
The servants came from the hotel, and lent their voices.
The landlord came out, and was at once seized with a convulsion.
After the landlord came Ludlow. He didn"t altogether understand it; but he saw David, and he saw the four figures; and from what the landlord had been telling him, he knew who they were. The sight overwhelmed him. He opened his mouth. He burst forth. It was tremendous. It was Olympian. It was the laughter of Homer"s immortals.
It was a thunder-peal. It was too much. He could not keep his feet, but sank down on the stone steps, and burying his face in his hands, gave way utterly.
Thus it Was, then, that David, the most solemn of boys, returned to his distracted and anxious friends.
At length the laughter ceased, and the costumes were set aside, and they all sat in the dining-room, asking and giving explanations.
David had to tell the story of his adventures. The boys had to tell about their search after him, and Ludlow had to tell the story of his meeting with David at Capri. These mutual explanations had nothing in them but what was pleasant, so that there was nothing to detract from the joy of the occasion.
And now Ludlow, finding the friends so happily reunited, pressed them all to come over to Capri at once, and stay as long as they felt inclined to. David"s eyes sparkled at this, and the other boys, who had fallen in love with Ludlow at first sight, were more eager to go than they could tell. But Uncle Moses demurred. He felt afraid of giving trouble, and thought they had better get back to Naples. Ludlow, however, pooh-poohed his scruples, answered every objection, and would not take any refusal whatever; so that the result was, the final departure of the party for Capri.
But before they went, several things had to be attended to. First of all, they had to dismiss the driver. With the exception of his sulk at Paestum, he had behaved admirably, and had been of immense service to them in more than one hour of need. The consequence was, that Uncle Moses gave him a reward so liberal that it elicited an outburst of benedictions, thanks, and prayers for the future welfare of the whole party.
The other business was to see about the return of the boat which David had taken. This, however, was arranged without difficulty.
Ludlow knew an honest fisherman who could be intrusted with the task of returning the boat, and making explanations to the owner.
By this man they sent a sufficient sum to repay the owner for the use of it.
They engaged another boat to take them to Capri. A gentle breeze wafted them over the intervening water, and they soon stood before the artist"s picturesque abode. Mrs. Ludlow received them all with her brightest smile and warmest cordiality, and the boys soon began to feel towards the artist and his wife as though they were near and dear relations. They found the artist"s cottage a perfect storehouse of curiosities, and a museum of antiquities; they found also that it was of large dimensions, and contained sufficient accommodations for the party; and thus they were able to feel that they were not a burden in any way on their warm-hearted friends.
Ludlow took them all over the island, and showed them all that was to be seen. He was not only an enthusiastic artist, but also an antiquarian of no mean attainments; and while he could point out to them the most beautiful spots on that lovely isle, he could also talk learnedly about the ancient Capraea, and raise out of ancient ruins theories about the pleasure-grounds of Tiberius.
But the most wonderful thing which they found there was the famous grotto, so familiar to all from the accounts of tourists, and from the well-known description in Hans Andersen"s Improvisatore. After that glowing, poetic, and enthusiastic narrative, no other need be attempted. Here they pa.s.sed three or four days, and when at length they bade adieu to the artist and his wife, it was with many sincere regrets on both sides, and many earnest wishes that they might meet again.
After which they all went back to Naples.
CHAPTER XVII.
_Vesuvius.--Ponies and Sticks.--Sand and Lava.--The rocky Steps.--The rolling, wrathful Smoke-clouds.--The Volcano warns them off.--The lost Boy.--A fearful Search.--A desperate Effort.--The sulphurous Vapors.--Over the sliding Sands._
The sight of Vesuvius from a distance had filled David with an ardent desire to visit it, and all the rest shared this feeling.
Vesuvius was before them always. The great cloud of dense, black smoke, which hung over it like a pall, was greater, and denser, and blacker than usual. The crater was disturbed. There were rumbling noises in its wondrous interior; and all around and all beneath the volcano gave signs of an approaching eruption. Sometimes the smoke, as it ascended from the crater, would tower up in the air for thousands of feet, far into the sky, a black pillar, which at the summit spread out on all sides, giving to the spectator the vision of a colossal palm tree--the shape and the sign which is the inevitable forerunner of an approaching eruption. At other times the sulphur-laden clouds would hang low over the crest of the mountain, and roll far down its sides, and envelop it in its dense, black, voluminous folds.
As yet, in spite of these appearances, the ascent might be made in safety, though every day lessened the chances of an ascent by increasing the danger. This they learned from Michael Angelo, their guide, whom they had engaged to make the ascent; so they determined to go without any farther delay. Accordingly, two days after their excursion to Baiae, they set out, going first to Portici, where they hired ponies to take them to the foot of the cone; each one supplied himself with a good stout stick to a.s.sist his ascent, and Michael Angelo went with them as general manager of the expedition.
On riding, up they found the road good at first, but soon it became somewhat rough. It left the fertile meadows and vineyards at the base of the mountain, and ran over a wild, rocky country, which looked, as Uncle Moses said, like the "abomination of desolation." No verdure appeared, no houses, no flocks, and herds--all was wild, and savage, and dismal. After pa.s.sing over these lava fields, the party reached what is called the "Hermitage"
--a kind of refreshment station near the foot of the cone. Resting here, for a little way they proceeded on foot. The path was now rugged and difficult, and ascended at so steep an angle that it became rather climbing than walking. After a toilsome walk this path ended at the foot of the cone.
Here the mountain arose grandly before them, with its smoke-cloud overhanging its steep sides, ascending from where they stood to where the view was lost in smoke. At one part there was a surface of loose sand, and at another wild, disordered heaps of crumbled lava blocks. Over these last Michael Angelo led them, for these blocks formed stepping-stones by which to make the ascent. A number of men were here with chairs and straps, who offered them a.s.sistance; but they all declined, even Uncle Moses choosing to rely on his una.s.sisted muscle.
Then they began the ascent of the cone. The lava blocks were of all sizes, and lay strewn loosely down the steep side. It was like ascending a long, rough stairway, where all the steps are irregular.
It was laborious and tedious. Often they had to stop and rest.
Uncle Moses felt it most, and the boys had frequently to stop rather on his account. But when they had traversed about two thirds of the way, they began to grow more excited, and in Bob this excitement was most evident. Thinking that the others would take sufficient care of Uncle Moses, he started off alone, and soon was far up, clambering over the rocks like a young chamois.
Usually there is one side of the crater which is accessible. There is almost always some wind which blows the smoke away, and on the windward side the visitor can stand and breathe freely. On the present occasion, however, there was little or no wind; and the smoke, which was far denser than usual, gathered in thick, black folds, and sometimes rolled down the sides of the cone, and hid the crest from view. Michael Angelo expressed a fear that they would not be able to reach the crest; and as they drew nearer, every step showed that this fear was well founded. At last, when they were within easy distance of it, there came rolling down a cloud of smoke, so dense and so full of sulphurous vapor that they all had to stop and cover their faces with their clothes.
It was now evident that they could go no farther. They waited for a time in great distress from the smoke. It rolled away at last, yet still hovered near them, every little while moving threateningly down, as though to drive them back, and prevent the crater from desecration by human footsteps. They had evidently reached their farthest limit, and could go no farther.
But where was Bob?
Scarcely had they discovered the impossibility of going farther than this thought came to them. Where was Bob? He had left them some time previously, and had gone far ahead of them. They had expected every moment to come up with him. But there were no signs of him anywhere.
Frank called out with all his strength. David and Clive joined in the cry.
There was no response.
Fear came to them--a sickening, awful fear. All shouted--the boys, Uncle Moses, and Michael Angelo.
Still there was no response.
Again, and again, and yet again, they called, by this time in an agony of apprehension; but to all these cries the surrounding stillness gave forth not one answering sound.
And the deep, dark, wrathful smoke-clouds rolled around, and above, and downward, moving close to them, and over them, as though eager to involve them in that dread fate which they feared had overwhelmed the lost boy.
"I can"t stand this any longer!" cried Frank, at last. "I"ll go and hunt him up."
"We"ll all go," said David.
"Wait," said Uncle Moses, as the boys were starting. "We must hunt him up as we do in the woods. We can"t tell where he is. Let"s form a line, an walk as nigh abreast of one another as we can get, an yet far enough away to cover the ground. In that way well be more likely to find him."
At this the party formed themselves in a line, so that about twenty or thirty feet intervened between each. The five thus extended for a long distance. Michael Angelo was at the extreme right, next to him was Uncle Moses, then Clive, then David, while Frank was on the extreme left. In this way they determined to go as far forward as the smoke would permit. The prospect was gloomy enough; but the situation of Bob nerved them all to the effort. Besides, they were encouraged by the fact that the smoke would sometimes retreat far up, exposing the surface to the very crest of the crater. So they advanced, clambering over the rough blocks, and drew nearer and nearer to the summit. At length a heavy ma.s.s of black smoke came rolling down. It touched them. It enveloped them. It folded itself over them and under them. Each one fell flat on his face at Michael Angelo"s warning, and covered his mouth and nostrils with his handkerchief, so as to keep out the sulphurous vapors. It was almost suffocating; breathing was difficult and painful, and it seemed a long time before the blackness of the darkness was mitigated. But at last the smoke withdrew itself, and the whole party stood up, and looked around painfully for one another, panting heavily, and drawing laborious breaths.
"You can"t go any further," said Uncle Moses. "I ain"t goin to let you resk your lives, boys. You must all go back, an I"ll go for"ard."
"No, uncle; I"ll go," cried Frank.
"And I," cried David.
"And I," cried Clive.
"None of you shall go," said Uncle Moses, firmly. "I tell you I"m goin. I order you to stay here, or go back." Uncle Moses was deeply agitated, and spoke with unaccustomed sternness. "Go back," he said; "I"ll find Bob, or leave myself there. Go back. D"ye hear?"
He darted forward, and turned to wave his hand at the boys. But Frank had already sprung upward, swiftly and eagerly. Onward he went, going first to the left and then to the right. David and Clive also rushed forward. Uncle Moses toiled after them, calling on them to come back. Michael Angelo followed slowly, looking on with a face of fearful apprehension.