IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 4 A ^/ y. ,.n- cem in his mild i'ace, and retreated into his r«:<-in. (It may as well bo stated here, that Uncle Mi»jity, lavished money upon them in spite of the remonstrances of the guide. CMve's sensitive nature shuddered at the spectacle. Frank tried to speak a few words BEGOAUS. 27 of Italian to them, which he liad caught from Mi- chael Angelo. David iniittercfl something abonu the ancient Romans, while Eol) kept humming to himself these elegant verses : — " Hark ! hark I The dogs do bark ! Bey.Ljiirs conio to town, Some in raers, some in tags, Some in a tattere(? ^own I " The beggars followed them as far as they could, and wiien they left them, reiinforcements always arrived. Thus they were beset by them at the crater oi' the extinct volc-no of Solfatuva. They encountered them at the gateway of Cumic, At the Grotto of the Cunijean Sibyl, At Nero's Baths, At the Lucrine Lake, At Bai;u, At Misenum, In fact everywhere. Still, tliey enjoyed themselves very well, and kept up their pursuit of sights until late in the day. They were then at I>ai;e; and here the party stopped at a little inn, where they proposed to dine. Here the beggars beset them in fresh crowds, till Uncle Moses was compelled to close iiis purse, and tear himself away from his clanutr- ous visitants. Frank and Bob went off to see if they could find some donkeys, ponies, or horses, so 28 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. as to havo a rido after dinner; while David and Clive strolled oil' towards the country. "Come, Clive," said David, "let Frank and Bob enjoy their jackasses. For my part, I want to get to some place Avlierc 1 can sit down, and see tliis glorious land. It's the most classic spot in all the world." "It's the nicist licautiful and poetic," said Clive, Avho was given to sentiment. Walking on, th(>y came to a j)lace which pro- jected into the sea, and here they sat down. " O, what a glorious sight ! "' exclaimed Clive. "Look at this v»'ondei'i"id Day of Naples! IIow in- tensely blue tlic watfM" is ! IIow intensely blue the sky is! And look at Vesuvius opposite. What an immense amount of smoke is coming from the crater ! " " Yes," said David, clearing his throat, " this is the place that tlie elder Pliny sailed I'rom at the time of the destruction of Ilerculaneum and Pom- peii. And look all around. That little town was once the luxurious Daite. Over yonder is Lake Lu- crine, which Virgil sings about. On that side is Misenum, where the Eoman nav)- lay. 'J'here is Caligula's Di'idge. What a glorious [jlace ! Evcuy- thing thitt we juive ever r(.'ad of in classic story gathers abcuil us hei'e. Cicero, Ca-sar, Horace, Viigii.Tiberins. and .Juvenal, seem to live here yet. Nero ami Agrlp]>ii)a, Caligula and Claudius, — every old Poiiian, good or iiad. And look, Clive, BEGGARS. 29 that is land out there. As I live, that is Caprrea! Ai)(l see, — (), see, Clive, — that must be tiio — " " Dutemi un carJhio, sijnori, j^er V amor di Dio. Sono povero — moUo povcro ! " It was in tlio middle of David's rather incohe- rent rhapsody that these words burst upon his ears. He and Clive started to their feet, and found close behind them a half dozen of those miserable beg- gars. Two of them were old men, wh.ose bleary eyes and 8too])ing frames indicated extreme age. One Avas a woman on crutches. Number Four was a thin, consumptive-looking man. Nnml»er Five and Number »Six were strong-limbed lellows, with very villanous faces. It was with one universal whine that these unwelcome visitors addressed the boys. " Datemi un carlhto, slgnori, per V amor di Dio." David shook his head. " Sono misernbile," said Number Five. "I don't understand," said David. " Koi abbidm fnrne'^ said Number Six. " JVb;i capisco,'' said Clive, Avho had learned that much Italian from Michael Angelo. " 0, signori nohilissime ! " I tell you, I don't understand,'' cried David. Non eapifico,'" repeated Clive. " Siamo dvsperati, '^ snid Number Six, with a sin- ister gleam in his eyes, which neither of the boys liked. " Come, Clive," said David, " let's go back. Din- ner must bo ready by this time." (I u AMONO THE BRIGANDS. And tlioy turned to go. But as tlioy turned, Number Five and Nuinlter Six placed tlieniselves in the way. " Date qualche cosa," they whined ; and each of them seized a boy by tlio arm. 'J'he boys tried to jerk their arms away, but couUl not. " Let us go," cried David, " or it will be the worse for you." The two beggars now talked in Italian without relaxing their hold. Then they tried to pull the boys away ; but the boys resisted bravely, and began to shout for help. At this the other beg- gars came forward menacingly, and Numl)er Five and Number Six put their arms round the boys, and their hands over their mouths. Neither David nor Clive could now utter a cr}'. They could scarcely breathe. Thev were at the mercv of these miscreants ! It was, in truth, a ])erilous position in Avhich David and Clive found themselves. Those I'agged rascals, the beggars, wore as remorseless as they were ragged. They had the boys at their mercy. The place Avas sufficiently far from the town to be out of hearing ; and though the road was near, yet there were no people living in the vicinity. It -as, therefore, ^-ufficiently solitary to [)ermit of any deed of violence being done with impunity. Diivifl and Clive gave themselves up for lost. With a last frantic effort, David tore his head loose, dashed his fist into the face of b(>ggar Number Six, who was holding him, and tricMl to ('scaj)e. I5K(.'GAU.S. 31 " Scelcrate ! " cried Number Six ; and he threw David to the ground, and held him down, wliile ho caught iiim by the tiiroat. J>ut tiiougli thus over- powered, David still struggled, and it was with some difficulty that the big brute who held him was able to keep him under. Suddenly, at this moment, when all hope seemed lost, a loud cry was heard. There was a rusli of two figures upon the scene ; and the next instant Number Six was torn away, and rolled over on his back, A firm grasp was fixed on his throat, and a tremendous blow descended on his head from a stout stick, which was wielded by the youthful but sinewy arm of Frank Wilmot. At the same instant, also, Dob Clark had bounckd at Number Five, leaped on his back, and began '^eating him about the head. The attack had been so sudden, and so utterly unexpected, that it carried all before it. Away, with a wild cry of terror, fled the four decrepit beggars, leaving Number Five and Number Six on the field to themselves and the four boys. Number Six groaned with pain, and struggled furiously. He wrenched himsulf from beneath his assailants, but they again got the ujiper hand, and held on firmly. But Number Six was too strong to be easily grappled with, and it went hard with his assailants. Meanwhile Clive, relieved by Bob, had become an assailant also. Snatching up a stone, he dashed 32 AMONG TIIK BFnr.Axns. it full in the llice ofNunihcr Five. The man stag- gered back and fell, and Jlob narrowly escaped falling under him. IJut Number Five sprang up instantly, and before Bob or Clive could close with him again, darted off without attempting to help Number J?ix, and ran for his life. Cowardly by nature, the beggars did not think of the size of their assailants ; their fears magnified the boys to men : and they only thought of safety in a panic flight. But Number Six was there yet, with F'rank Wihnot's sinewy arms about him, and Bob and Clive now rushed to take i)art in that struggle. This addition to the attacking force turned the scale completely. The struggle that now followed was most vio- lent, the Italian making the most furious efforts to free himself; but Frank was very large and strong for his years ; he was possessed of bull-dog te- nacity and high-strung courage, and was strenu- ously assisted by tlic other three ; so that the union of all their forces formed something to which one man was scarcely equal. In a very short time, therefore, after the arrival of Bob and Clive, the would-be robber was lying on his face, held firmly down by tho four boys. " Boys," said Frank, who was sitting on his shoulders, " fold his arms over his back." As they did this, he twisted his handkerchief tightly, and then bound it around the man's hands as firmly as if it had been a rope. Bob and Clive BEGGARS. 88 held liim down by sitting on his \o»;^, while David sat on his neck. Frank now asked for their iiand- kerchiet's, twisted them, tied them together, and then directed Bob to fasten the man's ieet. This was Bob's task, and he did it as neatly as though he had been brought up to that particular busi- ness exclusively. The man was now bound hard and fast, and lay on his face without a word, and only an occasional struggle. The weight of the boys was so disposed that it was not possible for him to get rid of them, and Frank watched all his attempted movements so vigilantly, that every effort was baffled at the outset. Frank also watched Bob as he tied the knots, and then, seeing that the work was well done, he started up. " Come, boys," said he, " let's give the rascal a chance to breathe." At this the boys all got up, and the Italian, re- lieved from their weight, rolled over on his back, and then on his side, staring all around, and mak- ing desperate efforts to free himself. ITc was like the immortal Gulliver when bound by the Lillipu- tians, exce])t that one of his assailants, at least, was no Lilliputian, for in brawn, and sinew, and solid muscle, Frank, boy though he might be, was not very much, if at all, his inferior. As he strug- gled, and stared, and rolled about, the boys looked on; and Frank Avatched him carefully, ready to spring at him at the first sign of the bonds giving 3 84 AMONG TIIK IJUKJANDS. way. But tlio knots had been too carefully tied, and this the Italian soon found out. He thoroforo ceased his useless eiforis, and sat uj) : then, draw- ing up his ieet, he leaned his chin on his knees, and stared sulkily at the ground. " And now," said David, " what are we to do?" " I don't know," said Frank. for Uncle Moses," said Bob, " or Mi- Let' ijiiiA go lor chael Angelo." " We'd better hunt up a policeman, " said Clive. " No," said Frank, '' lefs get Uncle Moses here first. You go. Bob ; and be quick, or else those other beggars'll be back here and release him." Upon this Bob set out, and the others guarded the prisoner. Bob was not gone long, however, but soon returned in company Avith Uncle Moses. Bob had found him at the inn, and in a breathless way had told him all, but he had scarcely under- stood it ; and as he now came upon the scene, he looked around in wonder, and seemed utterly be- wildered. Had he found his beloved boys cap- tured by bandits, he would have been shocked, but not very much surprised — for that was the one terror of his life ; but to find the tables turned, and a l)andit captured by his boys, was a thing which was so completely opposed to all his ordinary tlioughts, that he stood for a moment fairly stupefied. Nor was it until David had told the whole story, and thus given him a second and Davidian edition of it, that he began to master the situation. THE CAPTIVE IIOBUER. 8$ "Dear! dear! clear !" he cried, lookinp^ slowly at (Mich of the hoys in auccossion, and then at their silent and sulky caj)tive, " and ko you railly and truly wore attacked and made prisoners by bandits. DcNir I dear I dear 1 '* He looked inexpressibly shocked, and for some time stood in silence ancid the loud clatter of the boys. " Well, Uncle Moses," said Frank, at last, " what are wo to do Avith him? " To this Uncle Moses made no reply. It waa certainly a somewhat puzzling inquiry ; and hig own life had been so peaceful and uneventful, that the (jncstion of the best way of dealing with a cap- tured bandit was, very naturall}', a somewhat per- plexing one to answer. Ho stood, therefore, with his head bent forward, his right hand supporting liis left elbow, and his left hand supporting his forehead, while his mild eyes regarded the captivo robber with a meek and almost paternal glance, and his mind occupied itself in weighing that cap- tive's destiny. " Well, Uncle Moses, said Frank a second time, somewhat impatiently, " what are wo to do with him? Wo must do something, — and be quick about it too, — or else the other beggars'll be l)ack.'* " Wal," said Uncle Moses, slowly and thought- fully, " that's the very identical pint that I'm a meditatin on. An the long an the short of it is, that I'm beginuin to think, that tho very best 86 amom; thk bhkjands. thing you c.in do is to trtke your liandkorchees back, and coiiio hack with mo to tho inn, and ^et some dinner. For I've every reason to helievo tiiat (hnncr's ready about this time, bcin as I re- member hearin a bell a ringin jest before Bob came i'or me." At this the boy.s stared in amazement at Undo Moses, not knowing what in the world to make of this. " What do you mean," said Frank, " about our handkerchiefs, when we've tied up the bandit with tiiem ? " " Why," said Uncle Moses, " I think if you come you may as well bring yer handkerchees with you — as I s'pose you ])refer havin em." " But we'd have to untie them," said Bob. " Wal, yes," said Uncle Moses, dryly ; " that fol- lers as a nat'ral consequence." " What ! " ciied Frank, in an indignant voice, " untie him ? Let him go ? And after he has nearly killed David and Clive?" " Wal, he didn't quite kill em," said Uncle Mosca, turning his eyes benignantly upon the two boys. " They seem to me jest now to be oncommon spry — arter it all. They don't look very nigh death, as far as ap[)earances go. No harm's done, I guess ; an so, I dare say, we'd best jest let em go." At this Frank looked inefllably disgusted. " You see, boys," said Uncle Moses, " here we air, in a very peculiar situation. What air we ? UXCLK MOSKS AIUM'MKNT. 87 Stranpjorfl iirul sojourners in a stranf,'o land ; don't know a word of tlio outlandish linpjo ; surrounded l)y beggars and Philistines. Air there any law c(>urts here? Air there any lawyers? Air there any jndges? 1 pause for a reply. There ain't one. No. An if we keep this man tied up, what can we do with him? Wo can't take him hack with us in the coach. Wo can't keep him and feed him at the hotel like a pet animule. I don't know whar the lock-up is, an Iiain't seen a i)oliceman in the whole place. Besides, if we do hand this bandit over to the />olice, do y(m think it's goin to end there? No, sir. Not it. If this man's arrested, we'll bo arrested too. We'll have to be witnesses agin him. An that's what I don't want to do, if I can help it. My idee an aim alhis is to keep clear of the lawyers. I'd rather be imposed on ; I'd rather pay out money unjustly, be cheated, hum- bugged, and do any thin, than put myself in the power of lawyers. Depend upt)n it, they're as bad hero as they air home. They'd have us all in jail, as witnesses. Now, I don't want to go to jail." The words of Uncle Moses produced a strong impression upon the boys. p]ven Frank saw that handing tlie man over to the authorities would in- volve some trouble, at least, on their part. He hated wliat he called " bother." Besides, he had no vengeful feelings against the Italian, nor had Bob. As for David and Ciive, they were the only ones who had been really wronged by the fellow; but they were the last in the world to harbor re- 38 AMONG Tin-: imiGANDS. sentment or think of revenge. Their victory liad also niado them nierciful. So the end ol" it was, that they did aceording to Uncle Moses' eugges- tion, and untied the bonds. Number Six was evidently amazed. He rose to his i'eet, looked warily at the party, as though ex- pecting some new attack, then looked all around, and then, Avith a bound, he sprang away, and run- ning towards the road, soon disajjpeared. Tho rest did not delay much longer, but returned as soon as possible to the inn, where they found their dinner ready. This they ate, and then drove back to Naples. The opportune arrival of Frank and Bob was soon explained. They had been riding on donkeys, and had seen the crowd around David and Clive, and the struggle. Fearing some danger for their companions, they had hastened to the spot, and reached it in time to bo of service. The adven- ture might have been most serious to David and Clive ; but as it happened, the results were of no very grave character. Tliey felt a little son ; that is all. Bob also had a bad bruise on his left arm ; but on the Avhole, very little harm had been done, nor did the boys regret afterwards that they had let the scou).drel go free. As for their guide, Michael Angelo, he had been busy in another diiection, during this adventure, and when he heard of it, he was very anxious to have them arrested ; but Liicle Moses, for reaaoutJ already stated, declined to do anything. IN THE COUNTRY. CHAPTER 111. Out into the Country. — The Drive. — The ^i^iori.pv.s LxxJ. — Sorrento and eternal Sununer. — The Ca'c cf P'ily- plienius. — The Cathedral. — Tlie mystcripi4s /rerjr^v. — Wluit IS it? — Da'i'id Relic-hunting. — A Cala::'-!'pke. — Chased by a Virago. — The Toicn roused. — Erni\^iJ. — A desperate Onset. — Flight. — Last of the lYrj-;,^. ^ FEW days after the afl'air related in th«?' h^ iV^^*^ chapter, our party set out from N";^]'].?-' on 4)"^^ an excursion round the environ?. Wkh the assistance of their huidlord they were aB»le to get a carriage, which they hired for the excursion, the driver of which went with them, and wa* to pay all their expenses for a certain given ^um. They expected to be gone several days, and to vir-il many places of surpassing interest; for Na]iles is a city whose charms, great as tlu>y arc, do n(»t swrpass the manifold lovc-iiness with which it i? eEvirHj-netL and the whole party wouhl have been t<>TTx molted if they had missed any one of those tici^nes- of eo- chantnuMit that lay so invitingly near tlit-ia. As tliey drove along the shore they werv all in the highest spirits. The sky was cloudless, amd of 40 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. that deep blue color which is common to this climate ; and the sun shone with dazzling bright- ness, being only warm enough to be pleasant, and not in any way oppressive. For many miles the way seemed nothing else than a street. Houses arose on each side ; crowds of people, and multi- tudes of wagons, and droves of cattle constantly met their eyes. Caleches dashed about in all direc- tions. The street itself was paved with the large lava blocks which prevail throughout the city ; and in fact it seemed as though Naples was prolonging itself indefinitely. At length they emerged from the close-built city, and entered the country. All the way the scenery was exquisite. On the left extended green fields, and orchards, snid vineyards; spread- ing away for miles, they rose up tlie sides of high mountains. Upon these were small villas and hamlets, while occasionally a enstle perched u[)on some inareessible height thrcMv an air of romantic attraction ;il)out the scene. Tlitiv |)assed several villages, and at length resiched Castellamare, a town on the shore of the bay. Passing beytmd this, tliev found a change in the scenery. Tlie road wound along cliffs which overhung the sea, and was ornamented by tree^'. The read itself was a magnificent one, as smooth as a fioor, and by it- eiicuitous course afforded a perjx'tual Vii- riety. Tin; far white houses of Naples, the towers that dotted the shore on every side, the islands THE GLORIOUS LAND. 41 that rose from out the waters, the glorions hay, tiie gloomy form of Vesuvius, with its smoke clouds overhanging, all united to form a scene which called forth the most tmhounded admiration. Besides all these general features there were others of a more special character, as from time to time they came to some recess in the shore; and the road running in brought them to some little hamlet, which, nestling here, seemed the abode of peace, and innocence, and happiness. Through such variations of scenery they passed, and at length arrived at Sorrento. This little town is most beautifully situated near the mouth of the Bay of Naples, and around it arise high, encircling hills which protect it from the cold blasts of winter and the hot winds of summer. Sorrento has a perfect climate. All the i^ot.'/'us are blended together here, and in the i .-r.f^e groves, that surround the town, there may Lc « -n at the same time the strange spectacle of trc''s 'a blossom side by side with trees that are loaded with fruit fully ripe. It was evening when they arrived, and they had not much lime to spare; so they at once procured a guide from the hotel, and set forth to see what they could before dark. First, the guide took them to a deep chasm, which was so wild and abrupt, so dee[) and gloomy, that it looked like the work of a recent earth(iuake. Not far from this were some ancient reservoirs, the work of the 42 AMONG THE BRI0AND3. times of imperial Rome. The arches were yet perfect, and over the reservoir was a garden of orange treet Not far distant was a ruined temple, in the enclosi t ivhich was a myrtle plant, five Iiimdred years «.m and so large that it formed a respectable tree. After showing them these things and several others, the guide took them to the sea-shore, to a place which goes by the name of the Cavo of Poly- phemus. This is a large cavern in the cliff, in Iront of which is a huge fragment of rock. Here the boys recalled the story of Ulysses ; and David volunteered to give it in full to Uncle Moses. So David told how Ulysses ventured to this place with his companions ; how the one-eyed Cyclops caught them ; how he imprisoned them in the cabin, shutting up its mouth by means of a huge rock, which David thought might have been that very fragment that now lay on the shore before their eyes ; how tlio monster began to devour them ; how Ulyss-os devised a plan of escape, and succeeded in putting out the eye of the monster; how he then effected his escape from the cave, and regaining his vessel, put forth to sea. Then thoy went to visit the house in which Tasso was born. They were not able to enter it, and as it was now dark, they retreated to their hotel. On the following morning they all .^et out with- out the guide, to see the town lor themselves. A THE CATHEDRAL. 48 festival of some kind was goin^ on, which attracted many people, and the cathedral was filled. Tho boyr^, having nothing else to do, wandered away towards the common centre of attraction. They soon lost one another in the crowd, and one by one they worked their way into the interior of tho place. Tlie organ was sounding forth, tho priests were intoning service, on tlie altar candles were burning, and fir on high, through the lofty vaulted nave, there rolled '' the smoke of incense and the wail of song ! " David found himself a little distance away from a side chapel, which was evidently the chief at- traction to the worslii})pers within the sacred edifice. A dense crowd assembled about it, and in front of it. I'hrough these David managed to make his w^ay, full of curiosity aliout the cause of their interest. He at length f'rced himself far enough forward to see inside the chapel. lie saw a structure, in the centre of the chapel, covered with draj)ery, upon which was a cushion. Ijyiug on this cushion was the imago of a child, clothed in rich attire, and spangled with jewels, and adorned with gold and silver. Whether it was made of wood or wax he could not tell, but thought it was th(^ former. The sight of it only tempted his curiosity the more, and he longed to look at it more closely. It was evidently considered by tho surrounding crowd to be an object of great sanctity, for they regarded it with tho utmost 44 AMONCJ THE BRICANnS. reverence, and those nearest were on their kneea. Upon the altar, at the end of this chapel, lights were burning, and a priest was engaged in re- ligious ceremonies. David's desire to go closer was so strong, that ho waited patiently in this one spot for tlic opportuni- ty of gratifying his curiosity. He had to wait lor a long time ; but at length lie had the satisfaction of seeing a movement among the people, whicli showed that they were on the point of dispersing. After this the crowd lessened, and the people began to take their departure. At length but a few remained, some of whom were still on their knees around the image. David now, in a slow and unassuming manner, advanced towards the image. He could go close to it, and was able to see it perfectly. An iron rail surrounded the structure on which it was laid, preventing too close an approach ; but stand- ing here, outside of tlie rail, David saw that the image was very rudely carved out of wood, and was intended to represent a child. Why such an image should be the object of such interest and devotion he could not for the life of him imagine. He could only postpone any investigation into this until he could find out from some one. And now there came over him an overwhelming desire to obtain a fragment from some portion of this image, or its dress, or its surroundings, to Bcrve as a relic. His relic-hunting propensities DAVID REI.IC-IIUNTIXO. 45 had never be(>n stronfrer than they wore at this moment, and no sooner did the idea suggest itself than ho looked all around to see what were the chances. As he looked around ho saw timt the cathedral was nearly empty : a priest was near the high altar, two boys were in the middle of the nave, by the chief entrance was a little group just preparing to leave. Nearer him, and close by the image, were two women. They were on their knees, and ap- peared to be absorbed in their devotions. It seemed to David that it would be quite easy to possess himself of some small and unimportant por- tion of the drapery. He was quite unobserved, for the two women who were nearest were not regard- ing him, the drapery was within easy reach, and a row of tassels, upon which he could lay his hand, oflered an irresistible temptation. If he could but get one of those tassels, what an addition it would be to his little stock of treasures ! David once more looked all around. The priests were still at the altar ; but the boys had gone from the nave, and those who had been near the door had de[)arted. The women seemed as intent as ever upon their devotions. David looked at the drapery once more, and upon one of the tassels which was nearest him. Once more he looked all around, and then, stretching forward his hand, he touched the coveted tassel. 46 AMONG THE BRIOANDS. Then he drew hack his liand, and putting; it in his pocket, he drew lorth his knile, which he opened. Then he looked around once more. Then, for the last time, he put his hand forward, holding the knife so as to cut the tassel. But the cord which liound the tassel to the drapery was strong, and the knife was very dull, and David found that it was not so easy as he had su[)posed. But he was determined to get it, and so he sawed away, Avith his dull old knife, at the cord, severing one by one the filaments that composed it, but doing this so slowly that he began to grow im- patient. The women were not looking. There was no danger. To work with one hand was use- less, and so he reached forth both hands, and began sawing away more vigorously than ever. But his impatience, and his vehement pulls and tugs, produced an effect which ho had not expected. The heavy drapery, which had been loosely thrown over, began to slide off towards him as he pulled. David did not notice this, but continued his work, looking around to see whether the women were noticing him or not. At length he had sawed the cord almost through, and gave a quick pull at it to break it. The next moment the heavy drapery came sliding down towards him, and, to his horror, the wooden image came with it, falling with a crash on the marble pavement. CHASKD HV A V1HA(;(). 47 In an instant the two women started to their feet, starin<^ with wild eyes at the image and the drapery. Then their wild eyes caught Hight of David, whose frightened face would iiave revealed him as the guilty cause of this catastrophe, even if it had not been shown by the tassel and the knife, which were in his hands. With a sharp, shrill scream, one of the women sprang towards him. David instinctively leaped back, and eluded her. The woman chased. David dodged her around a })illar. The woman loUowed. David dodged behind another pillar. The woman cried out, " Scellerato I Birbone ! Farho! Ladrone ! '' And though David's knowl- edge of the Italian language was but slight, yet it sufficed to show him that these names which she yelled after him had a very direlul signification. Thus David fled, dodging the woman behind pillar after pillar, until at length he came near to the door. Had the other woman taken part in the chase, David would certainly have been captured. But the other woman did not. She stood as if petrified — motionless and mute, staring at the fallen sanctuary, and overwhelmed with horror. So the flight went on, until at length, reaching the door, David made a rush for it, dashed through, and ran as fast as his legs could carry him. The woman followed, but at a Uower rate of speed, and saw him go into the hotel. Then she returned to 48 AMON'J THE BRIGANDS. the cliurch, after wliich she went abroad with the story of the horrible desecration through all Sorrento. On reaching the hotel, David found the rest of the party there, at dinner. He said nothing of his recent adventure, but took his seat at the table. Before long, the party became conscious of a great tumult and uproar in the street in iront of the house. Frank and Bob went to the winduws, and looked out. A sudden exclamation of surprise brought Clive and Uncle Moses to their side. David followed slowly, with a strange feeling of apprehension, and with the recollection of his late flight still strong in his mind. He looked out. A great crowd presented itself to his horrified eyes — a crowd representing all Sorrento ; the old, the middle-aged, the young ; the rich, the poor; male and female; old men, old women, boys, and children. At the head of this, and immediate- ly in front of the door, was the very old woman who had discovered his sacrilege, and had chased him through the cathedral. Now he had hoped that the old woman had forgotten him ; but her appearance now was teni'old more terrible than ever. Here she was — a virago — with a great Ibllowing, whom she was exciting by violent harangues, and urging by wild gesticulations, to do something or other which David could not under- stand, but which he could well imagine to bo THE TOWN UOl'HED. 49 Homething that had reference to liis own humble, unworthy, and very much terrified self. Before they had fairly grasped the whole of the scene that was thus so suddenly presented, they were accosted by the landlord and the driver, who entered the room hurriedly, and in some excite- ment, in search of them. " One grand meesfortune haf arrive," said the landlord. " De people declare you haf insult de ]JanibiiK). Dey cry for vengeance. Howisdis?" " What ? " asked Frank ; " insult what ? " " De Bambino." " Bambino?" "Yes. It is de consecrate image — de Bam- bino — does miracles, makes cures; wonderful image, de pride of Sorrento ; an dis is do day sacred to him. What is dis meesfortune dat I hear of? It is one grand calamity — for you — eef you do not take care." " Bambino ? insult ? " said Frank. " We haven't insulted anything whatever. They're crazy." Here David, linding concealment useless, cou- fessed all. The boys listened in astonishment. The landlord shook his head with an expression of concern and perplexity. Then he had a long conversation witii the driver. Then they both left the room. The landlord went outside, and tried to appease the crowd. He might possibly have succeeded, had it not been for 4 50 AMONG TIIR nRTOANDS. David's old womiiii, avIio shook her fists in liis flice, Rhunped, iii)iH>aU!d to Heaven, raved, and howled, all the time he was spoakinp;. Tlu' cori.scquenco was, that the landlord's words had no ellect. He then entered the hotel once more, and after seeinp^ the driver, and speaUin}^ a few words, ho hurried up to our party, who by this time were iu a state of general alarm, " You must run — fly — leaf Sorrento — now — widout delay," he cried, hreathlessly. " I haf order de carriage. I sail tell de people dat you sail be arrest, an pacify dem for a few moments, till you get start." The landlord once more left them, and going out to the crowd, he made a few remarks, to the ellect that the hotel was being searched now for the offender against the Bambino, and when he was found he would at once be handed over to the authorities. He urged them to wait patiently, and they should see that justice would be done. The crowd now grew calmer, and waited. The landlord then went back, and led the party down to the court-yard. Here the carriage was all in readiness, and the driver was waiting. They all got in at once, unseen by the crowd in the street; and then, cracking his whip, the driver urged the horses off at full speed through the gates. The crowd fell back on either side, so as to make away, and were not in a position to offer any obstacles to BO sudden an onset. They also had the idea that PLIGHT. 61 the culprit was inside the hotel, in tlio hands of the authorities. JJut the old woman was not to bo deceived ; she Haw it all in a moment, and in .a moment she raised the alarm. Raving, howling, gesticulating wildly, dancing, and jumping, she sprang alter tlio car- riage. The crowd followed. Cut the carriage had already got a good start; it liad hurst through the people, and those who stood in the way wen- only too glad to get out of it, and thus, with tlio horses at lull speed, they dashed up the street ; and before long they had left Isorrento, and the hotel, and the insulted Jiambino, and the excited crowd, and the raving old beldam lar behind. David's adventure in Sorrento had been a peciK liar one, and one, too, which was not without danger; but if there was any satisfaction to bo got out of it, it was in the fact that the tassel which ha had acquired, remained still in his possession, to be added to his little stock of relicat 52 AMOXc: tiif: biuoands. CHAPTER IV. X.V Salerno and the sulky Driver. — Pcrstuvi and its Temples. — A great Sensation. — An unpleasant Predicatnent. — Is the Dri7>er a Traitor ? — Is he in League with Ban- dits ? — Arguments about the Situation, and what each thought about it. ^ FTER a very jiloasant drive through a country as beautiful as it had been ever since they left Naples, the party reached Mlerno, where they passed the night. Salerno is u lovely place, situated at the extreniity of a bay, like Naples, of which it may be called a miniature. It is protected from the wind by the high hills Hiat encircle it, and its delicn'ous climate n)akes it a great resort for invalids. But ibrmerly Salerno had a dilTcrent character, and one i'ar more promi- nent in the eyes of the world. Salerno has a his- tory full of events of the most varied and stirring character. Fought for by Greek, and Koman, and German, and Saracen, and Norman, its streets liave witnessed the march of hundreds of warlike ar- rays, and it has known every extreme of good or evil fortune. Two things make Saleino lull of in- terest to the traveller who loves the j>ast. One is, SALERNO AND THE SULKY DRIVES, 53 its position as a seat of li-iiniine; <1uring the mid- (llo ages. Hero once arose the greatest '=K*hI of medicine in the world, the chairs oi' whirh w»?re thiown open to Jewisli and Arabian }»r<'ift->.*."»rs, who at tiiat time far outstripped tlie sttid'emi of tiie Christian Avorld in scientific attainment*. The other thing is, that hero the great ]Ki]»e, Gr-^;rv>ry VII., found rcd'nge, after his long strng^-le. ■U'A, tlying from Rome, obtained rest here aruinir the friendly Normans, for it was in Salerno tliiat he uttered those memorable dying words «>f hh: " I have loved righteousness, and hated ini'|BiLly, and therefore I die in exile." Here at Salerno they had a slight mirim^ier- standing with their driver, lie insisif J «:'iii aret- ting more pay. As they had already niMde a tnll contract with him, this demand seemed like an im- position, and was rejected by the whole <«f fhena. Tlie driver grew furiously excited, gestaciibtci vehemently, stamped his feet, rolled hi* eye!>, struck his fists together, and uttered langnage which sotnided like Italian oaths, though they could not make it out. Uncle Mose?! }^e< -sieoi a little appalleil at his vehemence, and wa? inclined to yield to his demands for the sake of pe.iO'C : 8>nt the boys would not listen to this for a moment. .Vfter watching the raging Italian till ihey were tired, Frank at length started to his feet, and in a peremptory tone ordered him out (if the r'xun. The Italian was so unprepared for thi* deci*ive 54 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. conduct on the part of one wlio appeared to bo but a boy, tliat lie stopped short in tiio midst of a most eloquent tirade against them, in wliich ho was threatening to denounce them to the author- ities for sacrilege ; and having stopped, he stared at Frank, and seemed unable to go on once more. Frank now repeated his orders, accompanying them with a threat that he would call in the police. At this the driver's brow lowered into a sullen scowl, and muttering some expressions of rago and vengeance, he left the room. The boys chatted a little about the mutiny of the driver, as they called it, but soon dismissed the thought from their minds. After passing the night at f^alcrno, they pre- pared, on tlio following morning, to continue their journey. Early in the day, the driver made his ap])earance. He was quiet, and not communica- tive, and mucii changed from his former self Frank addressed a few remarks to him, but perceiv- ing that ho was sulky, he gave up all attempts to appease his wrath. In fact, he began to think that it might, perhaps, have been as well to comply with his request, lor the request for more money had been based upon his recent rescue of them from the hands of the mob at Sorrento. Had the driver made his request a little more meekly, and not presented it with such an assertion of right, tliero is no doubt that they would have cheerfully given what he asked. But his tone excited thoir P^STUM. 55 resentment ; and afterwards, when the driver chose to lose liis temper and scold them, they were more determined than over to refuse. Had he appeared at this time with his former good-natured cxj»ression, and liad lie sliown any signs of com- punction for liis insolent behavior, there is no doubt that they would have brought up the sub- ject of their own accord, and promised liim as handsome a sum as his exploit deserved. But his continued sulks prevented them from introducing the subject, and so they concluded to defer it to some other time, when he might be restored to himself. They now drove along tiie road e/t rouU' for Ptes- tum. At first they drove along the sea- ;> ire, but after a few miles the road turned off into the country. All around them were fields, which were covered with flocks and herds, whiio in the dis- tnnce were hills that werif clothed with vineyards and olive groves, that adorned their sloping de- clivities with mantles of dark green and light. In the country, on either side, they also saw some in- dications of Italian life, which excited strong feel- ings of repugnani'e within them; for hero and there, in many places, women were toiling in the fields just as the men, with heavy hoes, or with ploughs, or with harrows. In some places it was even worse, for they siiw women laboring in the fields, while the men lolled on the fences, or sat smoking under the shade of some tree. The im- 56 AM0N(3 THE I5RK!ANDS. plements of labor U8ed excited their surprise. The hoes were as ponderous, as clumsy, and as heavy as pickaxes; the ploughs were miserably awkward things — a straight pole with a straight wood- en share, which was sometimes, though by no means always, pointed with iron. These ploughs were worked in various ways, being sometimes pulled by donkeys, sometimes by oxen, and on one memorable occasion a donkey and a woman pulled the plough, while a man, who may have been the woman's husband, guided it through the furrow. The road was a good one, and was at first well travelled. They met soldiers, and priests, and peas- ants. They met droves of oxen, and wine carts, and large herds of those peculiar hairless pigs which are common to this country. As they drove on farther, the travel diminished, and at length the country seemed more lonely. It was still fer- tile, and covered witli luxuriant vegetation on every side ; but the signs of Imman habitation de- creased, until at Itiigth they ceased. The reason of this lies in the unhealthy character of the coun- try, Avhich, like many places in Italy, is subject to malaria, and is shunned by the people. This is the nature of the country which lies around ancient P.estum ; and though the fields are cidtivatetl, yet the cultivators live at a distance upon the slopes of the mountains. At about midday they arrived iii Paistum. Here they descended from the carriage, and giv. M *- '■fl •' i 1 ( t il 1 1 1 ■ f r^ESTUM AND ITR RUINS. 57 ing instructions to tho driver to remain at thia place until they should return, they started off to explore the ruined city. It had been their inten- tion to make use of tho driver as guide, to show them the objects of interest in the town ; b\it his long-continued sulks drove this from their minds, and tlu^y concluded to trust to themselves and their guide-bocjks. The carriage was drawn up on the side of the road, not far from where there stood an archway, still entire, which once formed one of the gates of Piostum. Towards tliis tiiey directed their steps. The gateway was formed of large blocks of stone laid upon each other without cement, and by their great size they had resisted the ravages of time. On either side of this could be seen the founda- tion stones of tho city Avails, which have fallen or have been removed in the course of ages. But the circuit of tho walls can be traced by tiie frag- ments that yet remain, and from this circuit the size of the city may bo judged. Beyond tho gates aiid in the enclosure of the walls are some niajes- tic and world-famed ruins, some of which are little else than masses of rubl)ish, while others arc so well prescrvcfl. that they might now be used for the purpose to whicii they were originally devoted. There i\r(; the remains of a theatre and of an am- phitheatre, which, however, are confused heaps, and some )nd)lic (Mbficcs in the same condition. The foundations of sonw private lK)uses may also 5S AMONG THE BRIGANDS. be seen. But tlie most noted and most inter- esting of tlie remains of Paistum are its two Tem- ples and Basilic;i — edifices whoso origin reaches back to tlic depths of an immemorial antiquity, but which still remain in a state of preservation so perfect as to be almost incredible. For these edifices are as old, at least, as Homer, and were probably in existence before his day. I'hoinician gailors or merchants may have set eyes on these temples, who also saw the Temple of Solomon at its completion. They existed in the age of the Pharaohs, and rival in antiquity, in massive gran- deur, and in ]ierfect preservation, the Pyramids of Egypt. In the age of imperial Rome, and even of republican Rome, these temples were ancient, and the Emperor Augustus visited them, and re- garded them as remains of venerable antiquity. Of these three edifices, the most majestic, and probably the most ancient, is the one which is calh^d the Temjjlo of Ne])tune. The stone of which it is built, is found in the neighborhood still, and presents a most singular apy)earance. At a dis- tance it appears very rough and full of holes, like cork. A closer examination shows that it is really composed of innumerable fragments of wood, com- pressed together in a vast, solid mass, and petri- fied. The stone is exceedingly hard and durable. The blocks of this stone out of which this temple, and the others also, are l»uilt, are of such enormous size, that they can only be ct)n)pared to those im- TEMPLES OF P.ESTUM. 59 mcnso masses that were heaped up to form the Pyramids of E, as the Tem- ple of Neptune, being nearly two hundred feet long, and about eighty feet wide. Like the others, it is surrounded by a colonnade, but the architec- ture is less massive than that of the first temple. AN UNPLFASANT PRHHirAMKNT. 61 Of these colurniis, nine art; in front, nine in the rear, and sixteen are on either si(h\ iiiakin*^ fiity in all. In this edifiee there are no signs whatever of an altar : and this circumstanee has led to the belief that it was not a teini)le at all, hut a court of law. Accordingly, it is called the Basilica, which term was used by the Romans to indicate a place used for public trials. Inside, the pavement yet remains, and there are the remains of a row of colunms which onc(; passed along the middle of the building from front to rear, dividing it into two parts. Of all the three, the Temple of Neptune is the grandest, the best preserved, and the most famous. But the others are fit companions, and the giant forms of these mighty relics of hoary antiquity, unsurpassed by any other edifice, rise before the travelUir, exciting within him emotions of reveren- tial awe. The party visited all these various objects of in- terest, and at length returned to the gate. They had spent a])out two hours in their survey of P{es- tum, and had seen all that there was to be seen ; and now nothing more remained but to return as soon as possible, and spend that night at Salerno. They had seen nothing of the driver since they left him, and they accounted for this on the ground that he was still maintaining himself in his gigantic sulk, and brooding over his wrongs ; and they thought that if he chose to make a fool 62 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. of himself, they would allow him to do so as long as it was agreeable to him. With these thoughts they approached the gate- way. As they drew near, they were surprised to find that there were no signs of the carriag(\ The view was open and unobstructed. Hero and there mounds or fragments of stone arose in the place where once had been the wall of the city oi' Pa?s- tum, and before them was the simple arch of the massive gateway, but no carriage or horses were visible. This excited their surprise, and also their alarm. They remembered that the sullen mood of tiie dri- ver made him quite capable of playing off some malicious trick upon them, and they recalled, also, his threats of the evening before. Could he have chosen this way to put his threats into execution? It seemed, indeed, very nmch like it. Still, there was one hope left. It was just pos- sible that the carriage had been drawn up more under the arch, so that it was iiidden from view. As this was the last hope that was lelt them, they hurried forth to put an end to their susjjcnse as soon as possible. Nearer and nearer they came. At last they renched the arch. They rushed through it, and lieyond it. There was nothing there ! No carriage ! No horses ! No driver ! At this they all stopped, and stai'ed at one an- other in silent consternation. IS TIIK DUIVKU A TRAITOR ? 63 " IIo'h gone," cried Clivo. " He's left us here — to gi!t back the best way wo can." " IIo swore last night," said David, "thatho'd pay US up ; and this is tho way he's done it." " Yes," said Bub ; " he's been sulky all day. He's been concocting some f>lan." " I don't see what good it'll do him," said Frank. "He'll lose his fare. We won't pay him." " 0, he'll give up that for the pleasure of re- venge," said Clive. " VVal, wal, wal," cried Uncle Moses, looking all around with a lace of dark and dolei'ul perplexity. " This here doos beat all I ever seen in all my lii'o. An now, wdiat upon airth we can do — I'm sure I can't tell." " Whatever we do," said Frank, " it won't do to wait here. It's too late now." " Perhaps he hasn't run oft' at all," said David, who always was inclined to believe the best of people. " Perhaps he has driven up the roail, and intends to retui-n." Frank shook his head. " No," cried he. " J believe the scoundrel has left us. We paid him half of his fare at Sorrento; the rest was to bo paid at Naples; but ho has thrown that u|), in t)rder to have the })leasuro of being revenged on us. And where he's gone to now is a mystery to me." " O, I dare say he's driven oft' to Naples." " Perhaps so. But he may intend something G4 amont; tiik hhicandh. more. I've lieard Hint there are brigands about here." " Brigands ! " " Yes. And I shouldn't wonder if he has gone ofl' with the intention of bringing some of them here to pay their respects to us. ITe may have started oiT immediately after we left him ; and, if 80, he's had two hours already — time enough, aa 1 think, to do a good deal of mischief." " Brigands ! " cried Uncle Moses, in a voice of horror. He stared wildly around, and then looked, with moistened eyes, upon the boys. " 0, boys," he sighed, " why did wo ever vcn- toor out so far in this here I-talian land, or why did Ave ever come to Italy at all ? Brigands ! It's what I've alius dreaded, an alius expected, ever sence I fust sot foot on this benighted strand. I ben a feelin it in my bones all d^y. I felt it a comin over me yesterday, when the mob chased us ; but now — our hour hcv come ! " " Nonsense, Uncle Moses ! " cried Frank, in a hearty, joyous voice. "What's the use of giving up in that fashion? Cheer up. We'll bo all right yet." 1 J ! SITUATION DISCUSSED. 65 CHAPTER V. They discuss the Situation. — They prepare to foot it. — A toilso»ie Walk and a happy Discoi'ery. — Tlie Lantj^uage of Sii()is once more. — The A fountain Cavalcade. — Iiol)''s Ambition. — Its J^esults. — IJod 7'anishes. — Consterna- t'ln of the Donkey Boy. — Consternation of the Cavalcade. — " E Perduto ! " j^i]i|^|HE mention of brigands prodnccd a startling and puwerfnl effect upon the whole i)arty, and after Uncle Moses' wail of despair, and Frank's rebuke, there was silence lor a time. "Well," said David, "I don't know. I don't believe in brigands altogether. Millions of people come to Italy without seeing anything ol" the kind, and why should we ? For my part, I still think it very likely that the driver has driven back to some place on the road where he can get bettor entertainment for man and beast than is offered at Pfustum." ''Where could he go?" said Frank, "There isn't any inn for miles." " 0, you don't know," said David. " There are some by-roads, T dare say, that lead to houses on the hills. I dare say he'll soon be back. From 66 AMONG THE BRIOANDS. what I've seen of the Itahans, I think tliey'd stand a great deal heibre loi^ing any money. Tlie driver wouhl wait tii' he got his ])ay, and then try tt* take his revenge." '' liiit in anv " Well, it niav he so," said Fran case, it will he best for us to stai't oil" at onee. Thcr e s no use Avaitmir iiere anv lona-ei AV e can foot it, after all. And we may eijme to houses, or we may {)ick up a wagon, and get a lift." This was evidently the best thing that couM be done, and so they all at once set o(f on foot, on their wav l.)ac kt o ale mo. Fortunately for them, tliev wt'ie fjuite fresh. They had been driving iill tlie miirning; and for two hours they had been strolling up and dewn within a small circuit, looking at tem[)les, or sprawl- ing on tlie grass. They had eaten a good lunch before heaving the carriage, and had net Irad time yet to feel hungry. The weather was mild ami pleasant. The sun shone brightly, witliDUl liein;^ too hot, anad succeeded in putting some 9*-ven or eight miles between themselves and Pa?-:t'ainn!. The road now became wider, and quite free fr-r'm grass, giving every indication of being a weli-iiM'*! len thoroughfare, and exciting the hope tbinS they would find some wine cart at least, or oiher mode of conveyance, by means of which they cocM com- plete their journey to Salerno. Suddenly, on making a turn iu the rc^l. they saw belbve them some moving objects, the si^iit of which elicited a shout of jo ,• from Bob. " Donkeys ! Donkeys ! " ho -Tied. " Hurrah, boys ! '' " Why, what good are they?" sai 1 D^vid. " Good? " cried Bol) ; " every gooi^ in \]i-:- world. We can liiro them, or buy them, and ridf Ivjick to Salerno." €8 AMONG THE BRIGANDS, "That's a capital idea," cried Frank, in great delight. " I hoped to find wine carts, or ox carts ; but donkeys are infinitely better." Hurrying forward, they soon overtook the donkeys. There were six or eight of them, guided by an old man and a boy. Frank instantly ac- costed them. Of course he could not speak Italian, but by means of signs he succeeded in conveying to the old man's mind the requisite idea. On this occasion he felt most strongly the benefit ■which he had received from his intercourse with Paolo. Frank thus pointed to his feet, and then l)ackward, and then forward, and then pointing to the donkey nearest, he made a motion to mount, after which he showed the old man some money, and tapping it, and pointing to the donkey, he looked inquiringly at him, as if to ask, " How much ?" The old man made some signs which seemed to Frank to be a question, " How far?" so he roared out, in stentorian tones, " f^alerno." Upon this the old man stood ibr a little while in silent thought. Tiien he looked at Frank, and then, pointing with one hand at Frank's money, with the other lie touched the donkey, which seemed to say that he would let the donkey go lor that price. As there was not (]uite a dollar in Frank's hand, in loose change, the charge seemed to him to 1)0 very reasonal)le, and ven, as he expressed it, " dirt cheap." So thought all the rest, and they all proceeded to bring forth their loose change, THE LANGUAGE OF SIGNS. 69 and pass it over to tlie old man. The bands of the latter closed over the silver, with a nervous and almost convulsive clutch, and after one long, hun- gry look at each lot that was given him, he would insert each very carefully in the remote corner of an old sheepskin pouch that hung in front of him, suspended around his waist. But now arose a dilHculty. The donkeys had no saddles. That was a small matter, however, and was not the real difficulty. The real difficulty lay in the iiict that they had no bridles. How could they guide them? Frank tried by signs to express this difficulty to the old man, and the latter understood him, for he smile'l, nodded, shrugged his shoulders, and then pointed to his hoy, and waved his hand in the direction they wished to go. The l)oy also smiled and nodded, and made signs of his own, by which he plainly showed them that he intended to ac- comj)any them as guide, and lead the drove, while they might ride. This being understood, the boys felt satisfied, and each one now proceeded to select the donkey which was most to his taste. Bol) had already made his selection, and was mounted on the back of the l)iggest donkey of the lot — an animal whoso size, breadth of chest, and slender limbs gave him an air of actual elegance. All the l)oys envied Bob his mount; but none of them comi)lained. Frank secured a solid animal, that liad a matter-of- 70 AMOXn THE BRIGANDS. fact expression, and looked as though liu had no nonsense in liini. Clive clioso one that had a slight shade of melancholy in his face, as though he had known sorrow. David's donkey was a shaggy, hard-headed, dogged-looking animal, that seemed bent on having his o\vii way. Undo Moses' mount was rather eccentric. IJc chose the smallest animal of the lot, — a donkey, in fact, — which was so small that its rider's feet could only be kept from the ground with difKculty. Uncle Moses, indeed, if ho had chosen, might have taken steps on the ground, and accelerated the motion of his l)east by })ropelling him with his own feet. Great was the laughter that arose among the party as each one mounted his gallant steed, and turned to look ujion his companit)n. Jeers, and jokes, and light chaff arose, and the boys found no end of fun in this new adventure. But Undo Moses wasn't able to sec any fun in it at all. IIo sat with an expression on his face that would have done honor to a martyr at the stake, and the boys respected him too much to include him in their good-natured raillery. The Italian boy took David's donkey by the ear, and started. David's donkey, in si)ite oi' his ap- pearance of obstinac}^, followed without resistance, and trotted nimldy oft", the Italian boy ruiniing easily by his side. The other donkeys followed. As they had no bridles and no saddles, some of the party had a little diiliculty in preserving their BOBS RTDE. 71 balance, but managed to do so by grabbing the coar.^o hair of the donkey's mane. The pace was a rapid one, and it was wonderful to see how w^cll the Itiilian boy kept up with them without losing breath, or slackening it. This he did for a long time. Among those who cared nothing for saddle or bridle was Bob, On the back of a donkey he felt as comfortable as though ho was sitting in an easy- chair. As they trotted along the njad, iJob sat with his arms folded, and his legs now hanging loosely, now drawn up in front of him, and at other times pretending that he had a side-saddle. At length he became discontL-nted with the sul)- ordinate position that he was occu])ying, in merely following in the rear of a leader like David. Ho was a liir better rider than Havid, and his donkey a far better donkey than the leading one. With the ambitious desire to obtain the post of honor for himself, ho boat, pounded, and kicked at his don- key. For a long tiiue this had no effect whatever; the donkey not only was not stimulated by it, but he did not even seem to be conscious of it. At last Hob determined to resort to other methods. Drawing a pin from his shiit colliii-, where it was filling the place of a lost button, he stuck it two or three times in the donkey's Hanks. This was too nnich. The patience of Bob's (h)nkey had reached its farthest limit. It could endure it no more. 72 AMONG THK BRKJANDS. With a wild bound the donkey sprang forward, and in three paces had cleared the way to the first. Another leap, and he was beyond them. The donkey ran like a race-horse. His slender, sinewy limbs seemed as fitted for running and for speed as the limbs of an antelope. His head was down, his neck arched, his tail in the air, and his long-, rapid strides bore him with astonishing velo- city liir ahead and far away. The Italian boy uttered a cry of dismay, and stopped short. The donkey which he was holding stopped also, and the others did the same. The Italian boy looked with a fiice of consternation after the runaway. All the rest looked with vague fears in the same direction, and with a half hope that Bob might stop the animal, or turn him. '■^ E perduto!" exclaimed the Italian boy; and though they did not understand Italian, yet there was something in his tone, and look, and gesture, which told them the meaning of those words — " He's lost 1 " bob's flight. 78 CHAPTER VI. Flight of Bob. — Difference between a tame Donkey and a ■wild Ass. — Carried off to the Mountains. — The Head- long Course. — The Mountain J'ass. — The Journey's End. — Ill-omened Place. — Confounded by a new Terror. — The Brigands. '1 t *»M^rIIEN the donkey first bounded oiT, the 11 if^ ftJt^lingrt of J3ob were nothing but ])ure, 4,4, unmitigated delight. As his spirited animal, roused from his indifference, Inirst through the crowd and reached the head, Bob's heart swelled with triumph. As he rushed along the road, far ahead of the rest, his triumph increased. lie turned his head, and waved his hands to his friends. Then he waved his cap in the air, and shouted, •* Hurrah ! " Then he rode side-saddle fashion for a little while, then he drew both legs up in front, and then he indulged in a series of absurd and fantastic tricks. All this Bob did because he supposed that he was riding ahead of his friends, and that they were following him, and admiring him. He had not made any calculation as to the great rate of speed at which his donkey was carrying him, and had 74 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. no idea how quickly ho was leaving all the rest behind. So, while ho had been indulging in his pranks for the amusement of those whom he sup- posed to be following him, he was, in reality, al- ready beyond the reaeli of their eyes. For his d(jnkey was an animal very far superior to the common herd. lie was not a doakey — ho was an ass — spirited, slender, sinewy, and fleet as a race-horse. There was something so peculiar- ly easy in the ass's gait that it deceived the rider. It seemed to him to bo a gentle ambling trot, or something midway between that and a canter. In reality this easy pace was exceedingly swift, and before long Bob was out of sight of his friends. This discovery burst upon him as he turned, with the intention of shouting back some nonsense to them, when, to his utter amazement and consterna- tion, he saw no signs of them whatever. It must be confessed that the shock which this discovery gave to Bob was a very powerful one. He looked all around in anxious curiosity, with the endeavor to comprehend his situation. His first thought was, that some accident had hap})ened to the party which was delaying them ; but soon he became aware of his own tremendous progress, and understood the true state of the case. He was now in a place where the road ran straight for over a mile. At the end of this it turned. As Bob reached this turning-place, ho looked back again, and far away, just at the entrance upon the straight BOB'S FLKJHT. 75 piece of road, ho saw the party coming. A few seconds and iio was once more carried out of sight. And now IJob began to i'eel that his situation was a serious one. It was not pleasant to bo carried away in this manner, in a strange country, on the back of an animal like this. Had it been a runaway horse, ho would have felt less troubled. lie would, in fact, have felt quite at home, for ho had been frequently run away with on horseback. He understood horses, but of asses he knew nothing. A horse was to some extent a sensible animal. lie would run away, and in duo time would come to a pause. But an ass ! Was an ass possessed of any sense of decency — any con- science? Would the well-known obstinacy of the ass bo shown on an occasion like this? and would this ass, merely out of that obstinacy, keep on running for all tho rest of the day ? It was a startling thought. Bob all this time had been making desperate ef- forts to stop tho ass. Ho was considerably em- barrassed by tho fact that there was no bridle, and no way of getting at tho ass, so as to exert his strength upon him. He tried various ways. First he pulled at his long ears. For this the ass cared not a whit. He did not seem to be conscious of it. Then he wound his hands about his neck, and tried to pull his head back. The eflect was use- less. Bob's strength was unavailing. He could 76 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. no more move that bont and stubborn neck, than he could straighten tlio crooked fluke nfan anchor. Then he pounded wildly upon the neck, siioulders, and flanks of the ass, and kicked against liis sides. This, too, was useless, for his puny blows seemed to affect the animal no more than so many puffs of wind. Then Bol) tried other means. Ho sat up- right, and suddenly called, in a 'lort, sharp, per- emptory voice, " Whoa!" This !,>• repeated over and over, but without any success; and at length he reflected that lohoa was English, a language which, of course, an Italian ass could not under- stand. While Bob had been putting forth these efforts, the ass had been flying along at an undiminished rate of speed, and the country swept past iiim on either side. He passed long lines of trees by the roadside, he saw field after field flit by, and the distant hills went slowly along out of the line of his vision. Hitherto he had met with no one at all along the road, nor had ho seen any cattle of any kind. His efforts to arrest the ass had been fruit- less, and he gave them up, and looked forward for some opportunity to get assistance. Ho I'cMncm- bered that the road had no towns or inns between Psestum and Salerno, and ho began to fear that he would be carried all the way to the latter place before he could sto[). His fears, however, were unfounded ; for now an event occurred which made him full of other bob's flight. 77 thoughts. It was u sudden chiingc in the course of his Uight, Thus liir they had hoeu going along the main road. Now, however, they came to a phico where a road K:'d away on the right, ap- parently to the mountains. Without tiie shghtcst pause or hesitation, hut with undiminished speed, and the headlong flight ol" one familiar with the way, the ass turned from the main road, and ran into tills side road. The anxiety and fear which Bolt had thus far felt were trifling, indeed, compared with the emotions that now seized upon him. Thus far he had not felt altogether cut off from his friends. He knew all the time that the}' were hehind him, and that at the worst he could not be carried farther than Salerno, and that they would come up with him there, and thus they would all be reunited before dark. But now he was suddenly carried off help- lessly from the main road, and in a moment seemed severed from his friends. Where was he going? When would the ass stop? Before him arose the mountainous country, not many miles away, the declivities in some places slight and gradual, in other places abrupt. Cul- tivated spots ai)peared here and there, and white villages, and old castles. It was not, however, an inviting country, and the nearer he drew to it the less he liked it. The road here was not so broad, and smooth, and easy as the one he had just left, but was narrow and rough. At length he reached 78 AMONG TITE BRIGANDS. tho skirts of the mountiiins. and tlie road now began to ascend. After a wliile it grew Homcwiiat steeper, and decidedly ron^lier. And now IJob found, to his immense relief, that tho pace was at last beginning;' to tell npon the tough winewa of the fiery animal which ho liestrode. Tho ass could not keei)up 8ucli a pace while ascending tho mountain. Gradually his speed slackened, and Bol» at length began to look about for a soft place, where he cuuld jump. But by this time the road entered what looked like a pass among the mountains. On one sido tho hill rose, wooded in some places, in others rocky ; while on the other side it went down steep for about thirty feet, where a mcmntain torrent brawled, and dashed over its rocky bed. It was about hero that the ass slackened his pace suf- ficiently for Bob to jump from his back ; but just hero it was impossible to juni}) without the risk of breaking some of his bones, and lie was not yet quite desperate enough to run such a risk as that. As the road went on through the pass, it grew narrower and steeper, quite imi)assable for car- riages, and only fit for travellers on horse or foot. The farther on it went, tho rougher and steeper it became, and it went on with many a winding. No houses appeared, except at a great distance, and those which did thus appear seemed separated by deep valleys from the place wdiere he was. Bob could havo easily dismounted from tho AMONG THK MOUNTAINS. 79 donkey now ; l)ut ho hesitated. TTo thought with fiorno dismay upon the distance that lay between liim and the main road. He thouglit that his friends must have passed beyond t\ui place where he turned oil', and that it' h(! did go l)ack he could not hope to meet them. Hesidcs, to go so long a distance on foot was too formiilablu a task just now. He iioped that the ass had some aim in directing his course here, and that lie was seeking his home. Periiaps that home was close by. Perhaps it was some village in the mountains. If so, he might bo al)le to obtain a mount for Salerno, and still reach that place before night was over. He hoped thus to find help — to get a horse or an as8, and also something to eat, and thus set forth for Salerno. As the road wound on, and as he traversed it, he looked eagerly at every project- ing cliif belbro him ; and as he rounded each pro- jection he still looked forward eagerly in search of the place, whether house or village, where he might obtain the help of which he stood in need. But the road continued lonely. He saw no houses, no villages, in its vicinity. He met with no living things, whether men or cattle. It was the loneliest path he had ever traversed. At last ho rounded a projecting spur of the mountain; and here he beheld a scene which was more promising. A little distance otf tliere was a bridge, which crossed the torrent. Beyond this the mountains sloped away in an easy declivity, 80 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. where appeared several houses. On the otiior side of the bridge were two ini'ii. The siol> followed. "^I'he noise of the ass trotting over the bridge roused the two men, and they walked across and caught liini. One ol them then field him, and the other walked towards Bob. As the latter ai)proached. Bob noticed that he was dirty and bearded, and rather shabby. He had a coarse jacket, with brass buttons ; a red flannel shirt, which was open, and disclosed a hairy lireast : and coarse leather breeches with leggings. A conical felt hat was on the tup of Ids head. Thus far lie was simply the counterpart of hundreds of other peasants in this part of the country, shep- herds, drovers, wine-sellers, m behirid a vast matted mass of tangled beard and moustaKrlie. — such was the face that appeared. It t^eemeil an evil and sinister lace — a face that reveale*! a cruel ami treacherous soul. No wonder that Rr^h's heart sank within him as he saw himself conircnted by one like this. The Italian stood looking at him with sluutpaiid close scrutiny. I'hen ho said something. 6 82 AMOXO TTTE BRTflANDS. Bob could nut understand him, and tried to ox- plain by signs that he had lost liis way, and that the dttnkey had run away with him. lie also pointed to himself, and said, " Americano," ami waved his hand in the direction of the road up which he had come, and said, " Saleiiio." This was Very well for Bob, especially when his anxiety of mind is taken into account, and his signs seemed intelligible to the Italian. lie looked at Bol) care- fully, and finally seemed to make out an exjjlaua- tion of his a])pearance, which satisfied him, after which he motioned to him to folloAV, and walked back towards the bridge. Bob's first impulse was to rush away, and run as fast as his legs could carry him; but the thought of the Italian's gun checked the impulse, and he followed. Meanwhile, the other brigand, who had caught the ass, stood stroking it and examining it. The animal seemed perfectly (piiet and docile ; alto- gether a changed animal, different far from that wild beast that had torn Bob away from all hi«( friends, and thrown him here among these dread associates. This other man had very much the same general appearance as the first one. His beard was reddish, and his eyes were smaller, the general expression of his ftice was more sinister, as Bob thought, and tliough he had no gun, yet he seemed none the less formidable. The two men stood talking together for some time. One of them seemed to be narrating to the re THE CAPTIVE IJOY. .11 no tho other Bob's accuunt of liimself, as lio had under- stood it iVum the signs that had been made. After this they seemed to be discussing tho subject of Bob and the ass, for they looked at him and at the am'mal fnua time to time during their conversa- tion. At length they seemed to hav(? made up their minds about the subject, for they sto{.ped talking; and mutii)ning Bob to follow, they walked away, leading the ass with them. Again a stn.>ng impulse rose in Bob's mind to tiy ; but again the dread of being shot at prevented him. He therefore followed as belbre. There was in this place a circular sweep of hills enclosing a valley, through which the brook ran. Crossing this by a bridge, the roatl wound for a little while with the old woman. It was evident 86 AMONG THE IRIGANDS. to Bob, by the glances which Wwy tlirew at him, that ho was the subject of their conversation. To him the ohl woman was by far tlie most obnoxious of the whole crowd. Tlie slatternly woman, the dirty, im])ish children, the brigands, — all these were bad enough; but the old woman was far worse to liis imagination. Tlier(3 was in her watery eyes, in the innumerable Avrinkles of her leathery skin, in her toothless jaws, something so uncanny that ho almost shuddered. ?he reminded liiiu of some of those witches of whom he had read, who, in former and more superstitious ages, were supposed to have dealings with the evil one, and whose looks certainly sustained such a supposition. To ]]ob, at that time, it seemed that if ever any one did in reality have dealings with the evil one, that one was the old hag beliinb hesitated, and stood without looking in. He saw a large apaitnient occujjying all tlu' lower story ol' the old mill, with some rude seats and rough beds. A long ladder led up tu the up[)er story. The oUl woman beck- 88 AMONG TIIK BRIGANDS. oned for liim to come in, and Boh did not like to refuse. »^o ho went in. She then lirought ibrth some cold mutton and black hread, which she ofTered him. IJol) was ravenously hungry; but at that nK>ment an idea came to him — a suspicion that was created by the very sinister aspect and very singular behavior of the old crone. The susj>iciun was, that it was drugged or poisoned. This susj)icii)n was not at all in accordance with the idea that they were keeping him Ini- a ransom, but it was an irrepressible one, and though hungry, he did not dare to eat. So he sliook his head. Upon this the old hag took the things away, and Bob went out again. The dirty children had been ])laying with the dtmkey all this time, and still ke[)t uj» their sport; but in the midst of their sport they still liad curiosity enougli to keep their eyes from time to time upon the strange l)oy who had come thus suddenly into their midst. The furtive, sinister glances of their Avicked black eyes had something uncanny in them, which made Bol) i'eel more nn- comfbrtablt' than ever. He took a seat upon a stone in front of the house, on one side of the door-way, and looked all around. The mountains arose there, rising first gently in an easy acclivity, and then sweej)ing up with a greater incline. Their sides, and oven their sununits, were here all covered with forests. On the left he could see the bridge over which the road passed — the road ESCAl'K fOXTKMPLATKI). 89 that led to safct3\ Could he but escape for a few moments from tlie eyes of his jailors, he might be saved. And why not? Two women, and some dirty children — why should he care for such guards as these ? One rush, one leap, and he would be free. Willingly would he walk all the way to Halerno. Anything would be welcome after such a captivity as this. JJut Bob was doomed to disappointment ; for just as he had made up his mind to fly, just as ho was looking all around to see if the coast was clear, he saw, to his deep distress, the two brigands ap- proaching from the outhouse. They were carrying something whii'h, on nearer approach, turned out to be a sheep, which they had just killed. Of course all thoughts of flight now dei)arted, and Bob could only deplore his own stupidity in allow- ing that one chance of escape to pass away. After this they began to boil portions of the sheep in a pot ; and soon the savory odor of a stew filled the room, and came to Bob's nostrils. As he was half starving, the delicious odor excited the iitmost longing to taste it, and he at once began to feel rather satisfied that he had not fled. He felt that iv flight after dinner would be far better. In due time the dinner was ready. It was a stow, — mutton, with vegetables, cooked deliciously, — and Bob's hunger was so great that if it had been worse cooked it would have been a banquet. He had no fears of poison, no suspicions of drugging, 90 AMONG THE BRinANDS. for the whole liunily prepared to partake of tlio repast — tlio two hri/^ands, tlie old hag, the slat- ternly woman, und the dirty children. The stew was poured out into a huge wooden [)latter; they used no plates, but dipped with their h'ngers. The ight sigiit awaivenea a little ob noticed that they all kept looking, from time to time, at him, and their furtive glances met his eyes whenever he turned them. The old woman sometimes seemed to devour him with a greedy, hungry sort of gaze, that was very horrible. It was an ogrish look, and Uob's appetite was somewhat checked by the horror that he found in her eyes, and he waa unable to have that free play M'ith the rejjast which ho might otherwise have had. After the repast Bob once more went outside, hoping now to have the opportunity which he had missed before. The dirty children went outside too. The two brigands followed, and occupied themselves with various employments. Escape from such surroundings as these was impossible. At length one of the brigands mounted the ass, and rode away down the road by which he had come. This circumstance seemed suspicious to Bob at first, but afterwards he thought that per- haps he had gone to Salerno to get the ransom. IMIMMSONMKNT. 91 Alter this, (larknoss caiuo on so suddenly that ho was amazed. Ih; had ah'eady noticed that tho twih^^ht in Italy was very much less than that to which he had been accustomed at home, itut had never been so impressed by it as now. There seemed but a minute between day and night. It was (piite bright, and then in a wonderl'ully short time it became dark. Upon this they all entered the house. Bob h;id to go with the rest. The room was feebly il- luminated by a small oil lamp. 15ob noticed that they liistened the door with a huge chain. Tho fastening of that door was ominous to him, and the clanking of that chain smote him to the heart, and echoed drearily within his soul. Jt seemed to him now like real imprisonment, shut in here with chains and bars, within this stone prison. Soon they all prepared to retire ; and the brigand wdio had tirst met I)ol) beckoned to him, and taking tho lamp, climbed the ladder to the upper story. Bob followed him. The upper story was about eighteen feet above the lower one. On reaching it. Bob saw that it was all one apartment. There was no bed here, or bedding, or furniture of any descrij.tit'it whatever. Sheep-skins hung from the raft> I'S, and dried mutton, and some vegetables. In one corner was a pile of straw. To this tho brigaiid pointed, and Bob went over there, lie understood that he was to ])ass the IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) t 1.0 u 1^ m 1^ 12.2 1^ illllM 1.8 11-25 IIIIII.4 IIIIII.6 Vi <^ /A 7 V Photogiaphic Sdences Corporation 33 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 872-4503 fd iV N> ^^^ <* ^ 6^ •^ «!• 92 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. night on this pile of straw. Once more Bob looked all around as he stciod there by tiie straw. He saw the farther end of the room in dark shadows; he saw the articles hanging from the rafters. He noticed, also, that there were two windows, one in front and the other in the rear. In these windows there were no sashes. They were open to the night air. One glance sufficed to show him this. The brigand now said something which Bob supposed to mean good nigiit, so he very civilly said the same in English. The brigand grinned, and then descended the ladder, taking the lamp with him. On his departure, Bob's first act was to take off his boots. He then felt his way along the wall to the front window, for it was so intensely dark inside and outside, that not a thing was visi- ble. Reaching the window, he put his head out and looked down. He could see nothing. All was the very blackness of darkness. He looked up to the sky. All there was blackness also and darkness. Then he looked down again. K he had only some means of getting down, he could venture the descent; but he had nothing. There were no sheets here for him to tie together ; he could not make a rope out of that straw strong enough to bear his weight. To jump down was not to be thought of, fur he knew very well that DESPAIR OF BOB. 93 at least twenty feet separated l\im from the ground. He turned away from the window in despair, and groping his way back to his rude bed, he sat upon the straw, and gave himself up to his gloomy and despondent thoughts. 94 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. CH AFTER VIII. The ivrn-out Captive. — Lis;ht Slumbers. — Fearful Wa- kcniiti^. — The stealtliy Step. — The overinastcrini^ Hor- ror. — Tlie lone Boy confronted by his Enemy. — The hungry Eyes. — Is it real., or a A'ightniare f — The su- preme Moment. Wkf^X^^ darkness of tlie night and the impossi- fbility of escapo filled Bob with the most gloomy and distressing thoughts, which at first quite overcame him. But at length other thoughts came, which were of a less distressing character. His mind once more reverted to the idea that he was held for r.ansom, and that for the present, at least, he was in safety ; and not only BO, but well cared fi)r. These people certainly had given him of their best. They had made him share at the common meal, and though this bed of straw was not very elegant, it was at least com- fortable, and was no worse than they themselves used to sleep upon. He flung himself down upon the straw, and found that it was a soft and a refreshing couch. Far better was this fresh straw than any formal bed could have been, for in such a house as that, a THE WORN-OUT CAPTIVE. 95 mattress or a bed would certainly have been some hideous thing, as dirty, as greasy, and as squalid as the people of the house. On the whole, Bob was pleased v/ith his bed of straw, and with its clean, fresh smell. Escape being thus cut ofiF for the present, Bob's frame of mind grew more placid. As long as he entertained the idea of immediate flight, his mind was constantly on the strain ; but now, when that idea had been dismissed, he grew calmer, and thought over his circumstances with more deliber- ation. Ho remembered that one of the brigands had already gone away, and, as he supposed, to Sa- lerno. If 80, ho would, no doul)t, either see his friends, or at least hear from them, some time on the following day. The more he considered his situation, the more free from all immediate danger did it seem, and the more did his hopes increase. He looked for- ward with eager hope to the following day. That would, without doubt, bring him news of iiis friends, or, perhaps, restore him to liberty. Under the pleasant influence of thoughts like these, his mind grew more calm and cheerful every moment, and passed into a state of tranquil contentment. Be- sides, he was tired, and his weariness brought on drowsiness. As lo.>g as his excitement lastCvI, ha could not feel the drowsiness ; but now, as calm- ness returned, the weariness and sleepiness be- came stronger, and by degrees overpowered him. 96 AMONG THE BRIGANDG. Gradually the thoughts of his mind became in- termingled with the fancies of dreams, and blended the realities around him with things at a distance. All was still, outside and inside. No sound what- ever arose from below. The fsimily seemed all asleep. At last Bob dozed off also, and passed into the land of dreams. His sleep was not heavy. Many things con- spired to keep his senses somewhat on the alert even in that slumber of his, and he was in that condition which is called sleeping witli one eye open. The fact is, the extraordinary excitement of his donkey ride, and especially of his last ad- venture in thus falling into captivity, had so roused his faculties, so affected his nerves, and so sharp- ened his senses, that even in his sleep there still predominated the thoughts and the purposes of his waking hours. In this state he remained for some time, sleeping, yet vigilant, the body gaining rest and refresh- ment, but the wary soul on the alert, as though to guard against danger. How long this sleep continued, whether min- utes or hours, Bob could never afterwards remem- ber ; but with a sudden shock through all his nerves, he opened his eyes. He was lying, as he had flung himself on the straw, on his back, with his head elevated against a bundle of straw, in such a way that he could see the length of the room. A MYSTERIOUS SOUND. 97 It was a noise that ho heard. Ho listened breath- lessly, and looked with all his eyes. Around him all was dark. It might be near morning, or it might be early night ; ho could not tell. All was still, outside and insido — the black- ness of darkness and the stillness of death. Yet now, in the midst of that black darkness and that deathly stillness, ho became aware of a sight ind a sound. It \ IS a low, creaking sound, which was re- peated at short intervals, accompanied by a sliding, shuffling noise. It sounded in the direction of the opening by which the ladder led up from below. Looking there, he saw a ray of light, faint and flickering, yet visible enough in that deep dark- ness ; and as the grating, shuffling sounds suc- ceeded one another at regular intervals, even so did the faint, flickering ray of light grow brighter and brighter. As Bob looked at this .and took it all in, one thought came to him in an instant, — Somebody is coming up the ladder ! The thought went through him with a pang. Somebo'^y was coming up the ladder ! Who? What for ? That mysterious somebody was coming slowly and stealthily. It was the tread of one who wished to come unobserved. On waking out of sleep suddenly, the mind is 7 98 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. often confused ; but wlien, after such a sudden awakening, it is confronted by some horrible pres- encH', tlie shock is sometimes too great to be en- dured. So was it with Bob at this time. His awaking had been sudden ; and the horror that ho found in the object that now presented itself was, that the shuffling sound that arose from the ladder was the step of Doom, — and the mysterious vis- itant was stealing towards him to make him its prey. There arose within him an awful anti )i- pation. His eyes fixed themselves upon the place where the light was shining ; all his soul awaited, in dreadful expectation, the appearance of the mysteriouj visitor, and as the stealthy step drew nearer and nearer, the excitement grew stronger, and more painful, and more racking. At length the figure began to emerge above the opem'ng. Bob's eyes were fixed upon the place. He saw first the light. It emerged above the opening — an old oil-lamp held in a bony, grisly, skinny hand. Then followed an arm. Bob's excitement was now terrible. His heart beat with wild throbs. His whole frame seemed to vibrate under that pulsation which was almost like a convulsion. The arm rose higher! Higher still ! It was coming ! There arose a matted shock of greasy, gray hair. The light shone down upon it as it was upheld in THE APPARITION. 99 the bony hand. The hair came np, and then, grad- ually, a face. That face was pale as ashes ; it was lean and shrivelled ; the cheeks were sunken ; the choek, bones projected ; and a million wrinkles were carved upon the deep-seamed brow and corru- gated cheeks. Over that hideous face the gray hair wandered. Bob's blood seemed to freeze within his veins. The old fable tells of the Gor- gon, whose face inspired such horror that the beholder stiffened into stone. So here. Bob be- held a Gorgon face. Ho felt petrified with utter horror 1 As the face came up it was turned towards him. It emerged higiier and higher, and at length stopped about a foot above the opening. Here it fixed its gaze upon Bob, bending itself forward, and holding forth the light as far as possible, so that ii, might light up the room, and peering through the gloom so as to see where Bob was. There seemed something indescribably evil, ma- lignant, and cruel, in those bleary eyes which thus sought Bob out, fastened themselves upon him, and seemed to devour him with their gaze. There was a hideous eagerness in her look. There was a horrible fascination about it, — such as the ser- pent exerts over the bird. And as the bird, while under the spell of the serpent's eye, seems to loae all power of fiight, and falls a victim to the de- stroyer, so here, at this time, Bob felt paralyzed at 100 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. that basilisk glance, and lost all power of motion. ITo could not speak. lie tried to scream. No cry came. Ho was dumb with horror. ITo was like one in a niglitmare ; but this was a waking night-maro, and not the fanciful terrors of dream- land. But the horror was too great to bo ondurcd. lie closed his eyes tight, and thus shut out the sight. But though ho shut out tho sight, ho could not shut out sound ; and soon he became awiiTo of ':omething which brought a fresh terror over his 'oul. It was a stealthy step. It was advancing towards him. Slow, cautious, cunning, yet steady, and nearer and still nearer, came tho awfiu step I Bob opened his eyes, to assure himself once more of the worst. He opened them by a resistless impvilso. The figure was now half way between the open- ing and the bed. The old hag stood now fully re- vealed. Her bleary eyes were fixed on Bob. One hand upheld the flickering lamp, and in tho other was a sharp weapon. Bob closed his eyes in an anguish of horror. He was dumb. He could utter no cry. Ho could not move. The blow was coming. Tho destroyer was here, yet lie could not make one motion to ward off that blow. His brain whirled, his heart seemed to stop beating. T THE SUPREME MOMENT. 101 Tliero was a terrible moment of dumb, motion- less, breathless expectancy. The old woman knelt by hia side. She put the lamp on the floor. Then she reached out one of her long, lean, bony, skinny, shrivelled hands, and took Bob by the hair of his head, while with the other sho raised iier sharp weapon. 102 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. CHAPTER IX. The Cavalcade in Pv uif, — Hopes ami Fears. — Theories about the lost Boj-. — /I new Turn to Affairs. — Explana- tions. — On to Sa/ernn. — hujuirics. — Baffled. — Fresh Consternation and Despondency. — The last Hope. M^/^P^EANWHILE the party on donkeys trotted along the road after Bob. At the ex- clamation from the donkey boy they had all experienced a shock ; but soon they recovered from it, and the shock only served as ii stimulus to make them push the donkeys onward more rapid- ly. They rode on for some time without making any remarks, each one looking eagerly forward to see if Bob might reappear ; but he had vanished behind a turn in the road, and as they advanced, there were otlier turns to be encountered, and so they were unable to see him. This began to cre- ate uneasiness. At first they all had hoped that Bob would be able to stop the ass, or that the an- imal, after indulging his paces for a short time, would stop of his own accord ; but the farther they went, the more they became convinced that this affair had something serious in it. At length they reached that long, straight piece f THP] CAVALCADE IN PURSUIT. 103 of road ulroiuly montionofl. At one end of this was a rising p^round ; as thoy asceiKhid this and reached its siirniiiit, they looked ahead, and tliore, far away hetoro them, was a sin/^K? rider. They roco^niz(!d Hob at once. He was more than r' mile away; but the sight of him filled them all with joy, and they at once stimulated their donl.'y.! to greater exertions. In spite of the disfanco that intervened, they all shouted as loud as they could ; but ol course the distance was too great, and tht;ir cries were lost before they reached nearly :\s far away as Bob. In a short time he turned in the road, and passed out of sight. They now rode on for a long time, and at length c'lme to the road that led to the mountains, up which Bob had gone. This road was not even no- ticed by them. They had passed other roads of the same kind, which, like this one, led to the mountains, and attached no more importance to this than to those. In the minds of some of them, however, these side-roads suggested a fenr^ that Bob's ass might liave turned off into some one of them ; but of course, as they were all alike, they could not conjecture which one would have beea taken by the runaway. As they rode on, they still looked ahead. At every turn in the road they still expected to see tiie fugitive ; and it was not until the donkeys themselves gave signs of fatigue, that they were willing to slacken their pace. But the nature of these donkeys was, after all, but 104 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. mortal ; like other mortal things, they were subject to weakness and fatigue ; and as they were now exhausted, their riders were compelled to indulge them with a breathing space, and so they slackened their pace to a walk. And now they all began to consider the prob- abilities of Bob's fortunes. " I'm afraid something's happened," said Clive. " Perhaps he's been thrown." " Thrown? " cried Frank, cheerily. " Why, if so, we would have found him long ago. But the idea of Bob being thrown from any animal that ever lived is simply absurd. He'll stick to that donkey as long as the donkey runs." " It seems to me," said David, — who was a very thoughtful and observant boy, — " it seems to me that the donkey may have taken some of those roads that go oflf to the mountains." " Pooh ! " said Frank. " Why should the donkey take the trouble to do anything of that sort ? A runaway animal don't generally indulge in freaks of that kind. ITo generally goes it blind, and runs straight ahead along the road that happens to be before him." " But perhaps he lives among the mountains," said David, " and, in that case, he would merely be running hoF o." " I don't believe that," said Frank. " I hold that it requires some thought for an ordinary donkey to quit the high road, and take one of those by-roads." HOPES AND FEARS. 105 " Not if a by-road leads to his home." " But how could his home be there," objected Frank, " when we found him away down there near Poostum ? " " Easily enough," said David. " I dare say they were going home at tho very time we came up with them." " I wish we could ask the boy about it," said Clivt " He could tell us just what we want to know." " Yes," said Frank ; '' but, unfortunately, we couldn't understand all of it." David heaved a sigh. " How 1 wish," he exclaimed, " that I had stud- ied Italian before I came 1 isut from this time forth, I'm determined not to rest till I've learned the language." Uncle Moses was deeply distressed at Bob's dis- appearance. Ho had only one idea in his mind. He told the other boys what it was. It was tho idea of brigands. They had met poor Bob ; they had seized him, and had carried him off to their lurking-places in the mountains. Ev( now he was in captivity. And tho heart of Uncle Moses yearned over the poor prisoner. He expressed these fears in a few words, for ho was too agitated to jjay much. Clive and David both shook their heads over this, and thought there was something in it. Both of them now thouglit tliat Bob might have been 106 AMONG THE BRIGAND8. carried by his donkey to the mountains ; and, if so, his capture by brigands would be ahnost cer- tain. To them, these mountains seemed to be full of them ; the whole population, in their opinion, was a community of brigands. Clive had also another idea. It was this. Tiie driver had deserted them and had gone off vow- ing vengeance. He had gone to the mountains, and returned with a band of brigands to capture all of them. They had met Bob, seized him, and taken him off. At all this Frank laugh.ed. "Pooh!" said he. *' I don't see why you should go out of your way to torment yourselves about noth- ing at all. It all seems plain enough to me. The donkey has run off, and intends to keep running till he drops. There's a long, straight, smooth road before him, and he'll stick to timt without bother- ing his head about by-roads or mountains. And if he's obstinate enough, I don't see why he shouldn't keep on running till he gets to Halerno. And it's my opinion, if we don't pick him up on the road, we'll find him at Salerno when we get there." " 0, that's all very well," said Clive, " but think how certain you were al)out tlu; driver — " He was interrupted by the sound of galloping horses and rolling wheels. The sound came from behind. At once they all turned their heads. Emerging from behind a turn in the road, they saw THE drivp:r's explanation. 107 two horses galloping at full speed, and drawing a carriage. The driver was whipping the horses furiously, and calling and shouting. The carriage was empty. In a moment they recognized the truth. It was their carriage and their driver. Tiiey all stood still, and looked in surprise, and the carriage rolled swiftly up. The driver at once stopped the horses, and jumped to the ground. Then, coming to the boys, he burst forth into a strain of the most profuse and vehement apologies. He implored them to forgive him, and began to explain the cause of his absence from the place where they had left him. It seems that he found this place an inconvenient one, and had driven across the fields for about half a mile, to some trees. Here he had taken his horses out, and allowed them to feed. He him- self lay down in the carriage, and took a siesta. He overslept himself On awaking, he was horri- fied to find how much time had passed, and at once proceeded to search for the horses. But during his sleep they had both wandered off, and could not be found until after a long search. When at length lie was ready, and had driven back, he found to his horror that they were not there. Thinking that they were still among the ruins, he had gone over the whole place, which took up still more time. At last he saw that they must have left. He at once drove off. Knowing that they were on foot, he expected every minute 108 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. to catch sight of them. He drove on for miles without seeing any trace of them, and at length came to the conclusion that they had, perhaps, found the carriage of some other visitors, and had obtained seats in that. Ho knew that they must have gone, and could only account in that way for their rapid progress. This explanation of the driver was perfectly satisfactory to them all, and their joy at getting the carriage again was so great that they excused his unfortunate slumbers. The driver also, on his part, haU now forgotten all about his sulks, and was the same genial and companionable soul as before. On learning about Bob's mishap, he at once assured them that the donkey must have run along the road, and that they would undoubtedly soon catch up with him. So the whole party got into the carriage, the driver whipped up the horses, and away they went towards Salerno. Mile after mile was traversed. Still there were no signs of Bob. " Something's happened," said Clive. " He's been carried to the mountains," said Da- vid. " It's the brigands I " groaned Uncle Moses. " 0, it's all right," said Frank, confidently. " That donkey's a regular race-horse. We'll find him at Salerno." At length they reached Salerno. They drove lip to the hotel. THE LAST HOPE. 109 No signs of Bob ! Hurrying in, tlicj made inquiries, and found that he had not come. This iilled them all with the greatest concern ; and the driver, and the land- lord, and all others who heard of it, asserted that he must have been carried to the mountains. It was now dark. Nothing more could be done ; and so they could only resolve to drive back on the following day, and make a more careful search after the lost boy. 110 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. CHAPTER X. The captive Boy and his grisly Visitant. — The Hand on his Head.— Denouement. — The Brigand Family. — The old Crone. — The Robber Wife. — The Brigand Children. —A Revolution of Feeling. — The main Road. — The Carriage. — In Search of Bob. ife^ARALYZED with terror, dmnb with horror, Bob lay motioness and ahnost breathless ; and the grisly old hag reached out her long, lean, thin, bony, withered, shrivelled hand, and took his hair, while with the other hand she raised her sharp weapon. She took his hair very ligiitly and tenderly ; so lightly, indeed, that Bob was just conscious of her touch; and though he expected that he would bo torn from his bed and struck dead the next instant, yet this fate was delayed. She took his hair then in her hand very gently and tenderly, and in her other hand she raised the sharp weapon. Now, the sharp weapon was a pair of sheep- shears. These shears she held forward, and with them THE SHORN LOCK. Ill she snipped off, as noiselessly as possible, a lock of Bob's hair. She pressed the lock of hair to her thin lips, looked at it steadfastly for some time, pressed it once more to her lips, and then put it in the folds of her dress. Then kneeling by Bob's side, she looked at him long and earnestly. She bent over him, and looked down upon him. She laid the shears upon the floor, clasped her withered hands together, and gazed upon the boy. He lay still. His eyesv ere closed ; but the delay of his fate and the snip of the shears in his hair had roused him somewhat from his abyss of terror. He opened his eyes wide enough to see what was gi.^ng en. He could not see the old woman's face, but he saw her kneeling, and he saw her thin hands clasped before her, like one in prayer, and tremulous. The old woman bent over him ; and if Bob could have seen her face he would have known that this old creature was an object of any other feeling rather than fear. Pale it was, that lace that was over him, and wrinkled, and emaciated ; but there was upon it a softened expression — an expres- sion of yearning and of longing. That which at a distance had seemed to his frightened fancy a hungry, ghoulish look, was now nothing more than the earnest, tixed gaze of a love that longed to be satisfied — a gaze like that of a bereaved mother who sees some one who reminds her of her lost 112 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. boy, and looks at him with a look of unutterable yearning. So, now, it was with this poor old de- crepit creature. Perhaps in her past life some son had been torn from her, of whom Bob re- minded her, and she had come now to feast herself with his face, which reminded her of her lost boy, to take a lock of his hair, to bow down over him in speechless emotion. Here, then, she knelt, her poor hands clasping each other tremulously, her aged breast heaving with repressed sighs, while from her weak eyes there fell tears which dropped upon the face of the boy. Those tears had a wonderful eflfect. As Bob's half-opened eyes saw the old woman's attitude, his grisly terror left him; his heart re- gained its ordinary pulsation; the tremendgus pressure that had been upon his soul was re- moved ; warm, and fresh, and free, his young blood sped through his veins, and all his frame was quickened to a bounding life and vigor. By the force of this reaction he was roused from his stony lethargy, his paralysis of horror, and his presence of mind was restored. Then there came those tears which fell upon his face. This completed the recovery of his self-command. It did more. It assured him that he was an object, not of mur- derous fury, but of tender love, and that the one whom he had feared had come, not with purposes of cruelty, but with yearnings of aft'ection. Why this should be he knew not; he was content to EFFECTS OF THE VISIT. 113 know that it was so ; and in this knowledge all fear died out. But even now he felt somewhat embarrassed, for the old woman was evidently only giving- way to her emotion because she believed him tt) be asleej) ; and thus he was an un- willing witness of feelings which she supposed to bo seen by none. In this there seemed to bo something dishonorable, and he wished the scene to end. He chose to do so therefore by making a few movements Avitliout opening his eyes ; that is, he changed his position several times, turned him- self over and back again, and thus gave signs of waking. Upon this the old woman silently took her lamp and shears, and left the apartment by the way she had come. So ended the adventure. The effect produced upon Bob was a varied one. He still felt the consequences of that horror into which he had fallen, that spasm and convulsion of terror which had seemed to turn him to stone, yet the relief that had been found was inexpressibly sweet. In spite of the pain which still lingered about his heart, there came a calmer and happier frame of mind ; the pain itself also gradually died out, and its only result was a general languor. So commonplace a termination to what seemed a terrible event made his whole situation and his other prospects seem commonplace, and he even began to think that his captors might turn OuG to be as commonplace as the old woman. 8 114 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. Ho foil again into a (loop sloop, and did not wake till it was broad day. On dosconding, tho people all rospecti'uUy bade him good morning. Breakfast was ready, eonsi sting of black broad, stew, and some collbe. Outside, the view was superb ; tho rising sun had not yet ascended high enough to shine down into the valley, but the glowing heavens, and the shadows of the moun- tains, and the light green of the little space near- est, with the darker green of tho forests that clothed the mountain-sides, all made the spectacle a memorable one. Bob's whole state of mind was more healthy, and cheerful, and hopeful than it had boon. Every- thing appeared bright and favorable. The old woman, as bo looked at her this morning, did not seem to be at all repulsive. Her face was shriv- elled, it is true, and her eyes were weak ; but she looked gentle and mild, and treated him with very great favor and attention. Tho slatternly woman did not seem worse than any other Italian peasant woman. Tho children were dirty, no doubt ; in fact, very dirty ; but then they wore brown, and healthy, and merry, not inclined to mischief, and quite respectful to him. I*^ short. Bob found himself surveying his situation and its surroundings with much complacency, and he began to feel that he had misjudged these people altogether the night before. But other things were yet in store which were THE BRIGANDS. 115 to redeem still more the character of these people. He was standing outside the house after breakfast, when, to his surprise, he saw the second " brigand " approach. He knew that he had not had time to go to Salerno and return ; so he saw that he could not have been to Salerno at all. He seemed to Bob to be going there now, for he was mounted on a donkey, and led another by the bridle. The one which he led was no other than the ass which had carried Bob to this place. Bob's only thought at seeing this was, that the " brigand " was now setting forth for Salerno, and was about to take the donkey with him, either to sell it, or to return it to the owner, and get a reward. But this idea was not left long in his mind. The first " brigand," came out, and the two men talked to one another, after which they turned to Bob, and the first brigand explained to him that he was to mount the donkey. He pointed to the animal, smiled, waved his hand towards the road by which Bob had come, and uttered the word " Salerno." Bob's heart gave a wild leap ; he could scarcely believe what he heard ; but the faces of the two men were smiling, and they continued to nod, and gesticulate, and repeat the word " Salerno." They looked like two beaevolent farmers, and Bob won- dered how he could ever have seen anything ma- lignant in their very good natured faces. 116 AMONG THE BIIIOANDS. Of course thoro was riothinpj to do now but to hurry away to his friends. Yot Bob was not willing to take too abrupt a leave. He remem- bered the old woman, and thought with a soitencd heart about her emotion. Ho wont back into tho house, and shook hands with her for good by. Ho even knew enough Italian to say, " Addio." The old creature was much softened, and burst into tears. Bob gave her one of his cuft-buttons as a souvenir, for ho had notliing else to give, and the cufl'-button was an uncommonly elaborate affair ; and he had the satisfaction of seeing that the old woman took it as though it was of inestimable value. Ho then went around among them all, shook hands with all of them, from the slatternly woman down to tho smallest of the dirty children, and gave each one of them something — to tho woman, a pencil case ; to one child, hia pocket knife ; to another, a watch key ; to a third, a shirt stud ; to a fourth, a memorandum book ; and to the fifth, a handkerchief. " Brigand " number two was going to accompany him, and it was now evident to Bol) that the delay which had taken place in his restoration to his friends was probably owing to the fact that they had to wait to procure bridles, or another donkey. It only remained for him now to bid good by to " brigand " number one, which he did with great earnestness, and cordiality, and fervor ; presenting him at the same time witii his neck-tie, a very DEPARTURE OF BOB. 117 brilliant pioco of satin, wliicli the Italian received with a great flourisli, and profuse expressions of thankfulness. Bob iiad several times regretted his ignorance of the Italian language since his arrival in the country, hut never had his r( grets been more sincere than on this occasion. Had ho been able to speak Italian he would have made a speech then and there, and have invited them all, from the old woman down to the smallest child, to come and visit him and his friends either at Salerno, or at Naples, or in far-ofi" America. But alas ! Bob's tongue was tied, and so the invitation remained unuttored. He did what hv could, how- ever, and utterly exhausted the whole language of signs in the attempt to express to them his thanks, and his good wishes for their happiness. The simple people seemed to comprehend him, for they were by no means dull, and gesticulated in return many things which seemed to convey the same meaning ; and when at last Bob rode away, the humble inhabitautb watched him until he passed out of sight. 118 AMONG THE BEIGANDS. CHAPTER XI. The Return, — The tender Adieus. — Back to Salerno. — On to Castellamare. — A pleasant Scene. — An unpleasant Discovery. — David among the Missing. — Woes of Uncle Moses. — Deliberations over the Situation. — Various Theories. — The Vengeance of the Enemy. — Back to Sor- rento in Search of the lost One. ETURNING to the main road with his guide, Bob traversed the same way by whicli his donkey had carried him on the preceding day. His progress now was very dif- ferent. It Avould not do to dasli furiously down the narrow and steep mountain pathway ; so they had to go at a slow pace, until they reached the plain. Bob's animal also had changed. He was no longer the fiery, wild ass of the day before, which had borne him helplessly away from his friends, but a tractable animal, with sufficient spirit, it is true, yet with all the signs of subordi- nation and obedience. He obeyed the slightest touch of the bridle, and moved along after the rider in front of him, as quietly as though he was the most patient and gentle of the donkey tribe. In two or three hours' time they reached the THE RETURN. 119 main road, and turning to tho right, rode towards Salerno. Thus far Bob had not noticed much of his surroundings, but now his eyes gazed most eagerly upon the road ahead of him, for he ex- pected to meet his friends. H(3 rightly supposed that they would have driven to Salerno on the preceding day, hoi)ing to find him there, and that they would drive back in search of him at the earliest dawn of another day. Bob's conjecture turned out to be right. He had not ridden more than a mile when he saw a carriage approaching, which he soon recognized as belonging to his party. In it were his friends, who had recognized him as soon as they had caught sight of him, and whose joy at meeting with him again, and amazement at the sight of his companion, knew no bounds. The carriage stopped, and the boys flung themselves out, and tore Bob from tliO back of the donkey, and hugged him, and hustled him, and danced about him in their joy. Uncio Moses was not so quick as the others, and hold back. But if his greeting was last, it was not least fervent, as Bob well knew by the moistened eye, the ([uivcring lip, the; tremulous voice, and the convulsive grasp of that venerable relative. Then and there, on the road, Bob had to satisfy the hungry curiosity of his friends, and give them some sort of an outline of his adventures. The particulars he reserved until a future occasion. 120 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. Bob's account of his friends in tlie mountains at once roused the enthusiastic interest of the whole party in their lavor, and they all proceeded to shake hands with the Italian. Nor did they con- tent themselves with this, for on the spot Uncle Moses and the boys made up a handsome purse, which they presented to him, not because he de- served it, exactly, but partly because they were so rejoiced at finding the lost boy, and partly on account of Bob's urgent appeal to them. For now Bob's sentiments about the humble people in the sequestered valley had undergone the last phase which was necessary to complete a perfect revo- lution of feeling ; and he had come to regard them not by any means as brigands, — far from it, — but rather as a family of peaceful, innocent, harmless, affectionate, quiet, benevolent, warm-hearted, good- natured, hospitable, and virtuous peasants. The Italian received the gifts with a series of gesticulations, by which he seemed to be invoking the blessing of Heaven upon them, and vowing endless gratitude ; and after the boys and Uncle Moses had one by one shaken hands and bidden him good by, he still stood there, smiling, bowing, and gesticulating ; and as they drove away, they saw him standing motionless in the road till they passed out of sight. Bob's adventures had not been without some Berious consequences, for the strain on his mind during the previous day, and especially the horror ON TO CASTELLAMARB. 121 of the night, combined with the fatigues to which he had been subjected, had been somewhat too much for him. As soon, therefore, as the first ex- citement of tlic joyous meeting was over, a reac- tion took phice, and ho complained of utter weari- ness uikI exhaustion. As Bob was a boy who never complained except under sore pressure, the boys perceived that he was now in need of quiet and repose, and therefore tried to put a check upon their eager curiosity. On reaching Halerno, they put up at the hotel again, and gave Bub the opportunity of a long rest. Had it not been for Bob's adventure, they would by this time have been ba-^k in Naples ; for their intention had been to go on from l^estum without sto})ping ; but now they were forced to delay somewhat. Still tliey were anxious to resume the journey back, and as Bob seemed refreshed after a rest and a good re- past. Uncle Moses thought they had better set out and go as far as they could before dark. The dri- ver mentioned Castellamare as a convenient stoj)- ping-placo, and it was thereupon decided to drive on as far as that place, and pass the night there. They had passed through Castellamare before, when on their way to Sorrento, and again, whea returning from that place, on their way to Salerno, 80 that it seemed quite familiar. But on quitting the carriage and looking out from the windows of the hotel, they were surprised to find how much the beauty of the place was enhanced by this new 122 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. outlook. Before, they looked at it as hasty travel- lers, snatching a passing glance ; but now they could take a leisurely survey. Before them was the Bay of Naples ; on the right, the city with its sub- urbs, extending far along the shore ; on the left, the isle of Capri ; in front, the shores of Baiic ; wliile in the roar was the verdant landscape, with a background of mountains, over which reigned supreme the gigantic form of Vesuvius, from whose summit was still floating tlie wrathful smoke cloud. It was decided to pass the night here, and go on to Naples early on the following day. All the party were tired, and went to rest at an early hour. The night was calm, and beautiful, and bright ; and as they wont to sleep, they were lulled by the plash of the waters as they gently rippled upon the pebbled beach. Frank arose pretty early on the following morn- ing, and found that David was already up, and had gone forth. The others were still asleep. Frank thereupon went forth for a walk, and one by one the others awaked also. They had ordered break- fast at an early hour, and they were to start im- mediately after. When Uncle Moses went down stairs he found breakfast ready, and departed to hunt up the boys. He found Frank, and Clive, and Bob, watching the driver groom the horses. " Boys," said Uncle Moses, *' breakfast's ready." " All right, sir," said Frank ; " we'll be along." AN UNPLEASANT DISCOVERY. 123 Upon this Uncle Moses went back, and after a few moments Frank, and Clive, and Bob entered. " Where's David ? " asked Uncle Moses. " I don't know, sir." " Well," said Uncle Moses, " I suppose he'll be along ; so let's sit down and begin." They all sat down. When they were about half through breakfast, Uncle Moses began to wonder what was keeping David. " Which way did he go, boys ? " ho asked. " I didn't see him," said Frank. " I didn't," said Clive. « Nor I," said Bob. " He was up before I was," said Frank, " and had gone out. I didn't see him at all. I only saw his empty bed, and found his clothes gone. I dare say he's gone off on a walk." " 0, he's all right," said Bob. " Yes," said Uncle Moses, " I don't doubt it. He's a very careful, quiet boy, I know ; but he is always so punctual, that it seems kind o' odd for him to be so late." '' 0, I dare say he's misunderstood about the hour," said Clive. " Perhaps so," said Uncle Moses. The boys now went on finishing their breakfast; but Uncle Moses began to fidget in his chair, and look around, and sigh, and gave other signs of growing uneasiness of mind. Feeling in himself, 124 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. as he did, the care of all the boys, he never was altogether free from anxiety ; and the various ad- ventures which the boys had encountered, had not, in any way, tcndud to lessen liis uneasy vifxilanco over tliem, Bob's last adventure, in particular, had wrou^^lit upon him most painJ'idly, so that he was ten times more careful over his young and somewhat fiiglity charges than he had been before. The absence of David at such an important time seemed unaccountable. If it had been any one of the others, it would have been intelligible : but for David, who was the soul of order, regularity, and method, to fail an appointment, was something so extraordinary, that he could not but feel alarmed. Still ho restrained himself, for he felt a littk ashamed of his fears ; and though he was evident. ly very restless, uneasy, and worried, he said not, a word until the boys had finished their breakfast. " I don't know what to make of it," said Uncla Moses at last, starting from his chair and going to the window. Standing there, he looked uneasily up and down the street, and then returned and looked earnestly at the boys. " I don't know what to make of it, at all," he re- peated. " Did you say you didn't see him, none of you ? Didn't you see him, Clive ? "' "No, sir," said Clive. " When 1 waked, all the boys were up." " Didn't he say anythin last night about in- tendin to do anythin this mornin? " DAVID AMONG THE MISSING. 125 "I didn't hear him say anytliinp." " 0, I'm sure he's misunderstood about the hour," said Frank. " That's it. He's off on a walk. 1 dare say lie's found some old ruin ; and if that's the case, he won't know anything about time at alh Put him in an old ruin, and he'd let all the breakfasts that ever were cooked wait before he'd hurry." " Wal," said Uncle Moses, " there's somethin in that too. David's dreadful fond of old stones, and old bones, and tumble-down edifices, and old sticks an weeds. Why, he's all the time collectin ; an if he keeps on, his baggage'll become uothin else but that." Pleased with this thought, which brought up before his mind what to him was an inexplicable peculiarity of David, Uncle Moses drew a breath of relief. " Wal," said he, " we'll have to wait patiently, till David's done with that there old ruin ; an meantime I think PU take a turn an see if I can see anythin of him." Upon this Uncle Moses went out of the room, and down to the street. Reaching the street, he walked up and down the entire length of the town, looking eagerly in every direction, peering into the doors of houses, staring into space, scanning groves and vineyards, and every half minute tak- ing out his watch and looking at it. At the end of about half an hour, he returned more troubled 126 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. than ever, and met Frank, Clive, and Bob in front of the hotel. " I can't find him anywhere," said he. Thus far the boys had thought nothing of Da- vid's disappearance ; but the deep anxiety of Un- cle Moses now excited their alarm ; and though, if left to themselves, they would have seen noth- ing to fear in the fact of David's being an hour or so behind time, yet, after all, they began to see that, in one like David, such conduct was most ex- traordinary ; and in this foreign country, of whose ways they were so ignorant, there might possibly be danger in such absence. They at once began to comfort Uncle Moses ; and then all of them vol- unteered to go in different directions and see if they could find him. Uncle Moses again set out, walking up tln^ road in the direction of Sorrento ; Frank went down the road ; Clive took a by-road that led towards the hills ; while Bob, who was rather weak yet, and not capable of much exer- tion, said that he would watch from the window of the hotel, and be at home, in case of David's return, to explain matters. In this way they began their search, and Bob wait'^vi patiently in the hotel. After about an hour Uncle Moses came back. On finding that David had not returned, he looked unspeakably distressed ; and when, after a short time farther, both Frank and Clive returned without any tidings of the fugitive, he began to look quite heart-broken. DELIBERATION OVER THE SITUATION. 127 Then tliey talked to the driver about it; but the driver could give them no information what- ever. They sent him over the hotel to question all the people, but this search was as vain as the others had been. There was no one in the hotel, from the big landlord down to the scullion, who could tell anything at all about David. By the time all these examinations and searches had been made it was after ten o'clock. Breakfast had been served at seven, and seven was the hour at which David should have been among them. He had been gone, therefore, more than three hours. Even the boys now began to feel uneasy. Un- cle Moses and all the boys began to rack their brains to find some way of accounting for Da . id's absence. " Did any of you ever hear of his walking in his sleep?" asked Uncle Moses, in an agitated voice. " No," said Bob, " never. I know he never did such a thing." " He couldn't have taken a walk anywheres," said Uncle Moses, " or he'd been back long ago." " 0, yes ; he wouldn't have started on a three hours' walk," said Clive. " Perhaps he's tried a donkey ride, and been run away with, like me," said Bob. "0, no," siiid Frank, "he isn't fond of riding; he'd never get on the back of any animal, unless he had to." " Did he say anything about — about — ? " 128 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. Uncle Moses hesitated at the question which he was about to ask. " About what, Uncle Moses ? " asked Clive. " About — bathing ? " asked Uncle Moses, in a faltering voice. " No," said Clive. Uncle !Moses drew a long breath. " It wonld be dreadful dangerous," said he. "But, Uncle Moses," said Clive, " David would never think of such a thing. lie might go in if all of us fellows went in too, just for company ; but ho doesn't care enough about it to go in talone. The fact is, he doesn't care much for any kind of sports. He's too fond of books." Uncle Moses sighed heavily. " I wonder,'" said Bob, " if any of those Sorren- to fellows have been about hero, and seen him." At this suggestion every one of them started, and stared at one another. " Sorrento fellers ? " repeated Uncle Moses. " Do you think there's any chance ? " " 0, I don't know," said Bob. " I only thought it might be possible. You see Dave made no end of a row there about that tassel that he took, and you know how we had to run for it. Well, you know Sorrento isn't very far from here, and I just thought that some of the Sorrento people might have seen us come here yesterday. If they did, they might have tried to pay up poor old Dave for what he did out there." VARIOUS THEORIES. 129 " It may be so," aaid Uncle Moses, with a groan. "The whole population were ravin mad, an we had hard enough work to get away." " Well," sciid Frank, "it's the only thing that can account lor Dave's absence. He may have taken a little stroll tliis morning, and fallen into the hands of some of those fellows. Perhaps they've been watching all night for the chance. They would watch, not only all night, but a fortnight, for the sake of revenge. There's no peoj^le so re- vengeful as the Italians. Poor Dave ! What can we do ? I'll go and ask the driver." Saying this, Frank hurried out of the room and down stairs to talk to the driver about it. All the others followed. On suggesting this Sorrento the- ory to the driver, that worthy shook his head, and thought that there might be something in it. Ho evidently began to look upon David's absence aa Romething very serious, and his seriousness over it only added to the anxiety of Uncle Moses and the boys. " If this is so, we ought to drive off to Sorrento at once," said Frank, " l)eforo it is too late. If Dave is in their hands, he needs us now, and I only wish wo had thought of this before." " But he mayn't be there at all," said Bob, who generally had a mind of his own. " Where else is he ? " " I don't know." " There's no need for all of us to go," said Uncle 9 130 AMONO THE IIRIGANDS. Moses. " I'll go alone, and you boys stay here till I come back. But I don't know, either. I'm alVaid to leave you. If David's got into trouble, ]\o\v can any of you hope to escape ? No, you must all come, for I declare I'm afraid to trust one of yon out of my sight." " But some of us ought to stay," said Bob, " for Dave may turn up all right, and hovv'll he know what's become of us ? " " Wal," said Uncle Moses, " I'll leave word for him here at the hotel." " Yes," said Frank, " that's the best way. None of us want to dawdle our lives out in this place all day, and you don't want to leave any of us be- hind, Uncle Moses ; so if we all go together, we'll all be satisfied." A few minutes afterwards the carriage rolled out of Castellamare, carrying the party back to Sorrento. A CLOKIOUS SCKNE. m CHAPTER XII. The Wakins^ of David. — A ^/orioiis Scene. — A Tempta- tion. — David embarks upon tlie wide wide Sea. — ] 'oiith at the Prow and Pleasure at the Helm. — A darini^ Navii^a- tor. — A baffled and confounded Naiiii^ator. — • Lost ! Lost ! Lost ! — Despair of David. — .-// the Mercy of Wind and Sea. — The Isle of the Brigands. — IVie Brigand Chief. ^f=^N the morning of tliat day David had waked '^Br very early, feeUng ref're.shtMl with his slumbers, and not at all iiicliiicd to pro- long them. The others were all asleep, and the house was silent. As he lay he eould hear the gentle ripple of the water upon the beach, and feel the sweet, balmy air of nuuiiing as it fanned his cheeks. For some little time lie lay enjoying his situation, and then jumped out of bed and went to the window. Immediately in front of him lay the IJay of Naples, a dark blue expanse, with its border of green shores and white cities, overhung by a sky whoso hue rivalled that of the sea beneath. The beauty of the scene was so exiiuisite that it called him forth, and unable any longer to remain within doors, he dressed himself and walked out. On his 132 AMONG THE BRICxANDS. way out he met no one, for all were still asleep. He had to unlock the door to let himself out, and when outside he saw that the street was as deserted as the interior of the hotel. Standing- at the door, he saw the eastern sky all ruddy and glowing. The sun was not yet up, but these hues indicated its approacl), and aruiounced that it was at hand. The fertile plains, all covered with vineyards, spread afar, extending from tho outskirts of the town to the slopes of the moun- tains, which in the distance rose up grandly, their sides covered with groves, and resting in dark shadows. There, too, was Vesuvius, as ever, mon- arch of the scene ; and the smoke that hung over its summit stood revealed in a black mass against the blue sky. David left the hotel, and, after walking a few paces, turned his steps towards the sea-shore. Here tho attractions were greater than on the land, for the blue expanse of water spread itself out bcfoi-e him, encircled by shores and islands, and all the congregated glories of the Bay of Naples were there in one view 1 olbre his eyes. There was a beach hero of fine pebbles, whicli sloped gently into the water, and upon this beach a nunil)er of boats were drawn up. After wander- ing, along the beach for a little distance, David entered one of these boats, and sat down. It was a small boat, with a mast and sail, the latter of which was loosely furled. Hero David sat and looked out upon the water. A TEMPTATION. 133 The glorious scene filled his whole soul with en- thusiastic delight. Upon that deep blue surface his eye was attracted by several white sails iar away, that moved to and fro. At that moment it seemed to him that to move thus over such a sea would be equal to a bird's Hight in the blue of heaven; and as he watched the boats ho longed to l)e in them. Suddenly he thought of the boat in which he was. Could he not have a little sail up and down along the shore ? True, he did not know how to sail a boat, but ho could learn ; and this seemed as good a tiine to learn as any other. He did not know the owner, but on his return ho could pay him what the excursion might be worth. He could float over this glorious water, and move up and down within easy reach of the shore, so as to land whenever it might be desiralile. David was not at all an enterprising boy, or fin adventurous one. He was essentially quiet, me- thodical, and conr.ervative. It was not because this sail was a risky thing that ho tried it, but rather because it seemed so perfectly safe. There was a breeze, — he felt it, — and the progress of the boats, afar off on the water, tantalized him and tempted him on. The result was, that without taking much time to think about it, David yielded to tho inclination of the moment, and pushing the boat from the land into the water, he let loose the sail ; and then seating himself in the stern, ho pre- pared to glide over the water. 134 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. About sailing David know absolutely nothing. He was not even acquainted witli the theory of sailing ; nor did ho know how, or on what princi- ple, a sail-boat moves. About steering he was equally ignorant, nor did he know how a boat obeys its rudder. But he knew that the one who sails a boat sits in the stern, and hoUls the tiller : so David did the same, holding the tiller in his right hand, and the sheets in his left. The wind was not very strong, and it happened to be blowing in such a way that, as he unfurled the sail, it filled at once, and the boat moved light- ly and pleasantly along. The motion filled David wnth delight. lie saw himself borne on past the shore, at a gentle rate, and I'elt that the moment was one of supreme hsippiness. Thus, holding sheet and tiller, he resigned himself to the joy of the occasion. The wind was moderate, and there was nothing whatever in tlie movement of the boat to excite the slightest uneasiness. The wavelets dashed pleasant- ly against the liows, and the course of the boat re- mained sufHciently straight to keep her sail filled. David saw that whatever the secret of navigation might be, he had unconsciously stumbled upon it; and finding tliat the boat was doing so admirably, ho w^as very careful to hold thi> iiUer straight, and not to move it to eitfier side. So he leaned back, and luxuriatefl in the pleasant motion, and looked up at the deep blue sky that bent above him, and around A DARING NAVIGATOR. 135 at the wide expanse of water, the green verdur- ous hills, the viue-clad meadows, and the purple mountains. Frum time to time he noticed, with satisfaction, that his course ran along the shore, parallel to it, as it appeared. He noticed, however, that he was now farther away from it than when he started; but as yet the distance did not seem excessive ; in fact, it seemed on the whole preferable, since it gave him a finer view. Before him the shore ran on until it terminated on a headland, and David thought that this would be a good place to fix as the limit of his voyage. Never was any human being more utterly out of place than David in this sail-boat, and never was any human being more serenely unconscious of his unfitness. David's frame of mind was one of calm, beatific enjoyment. He was quite unconscious of the increase of the distance between his boat and the shore, which grow greater every moment, and equally unobservant of the lapse of time. In times of great enjoyment the hours fly quickly by, anr from his looks and dress what his country miglit be. David's dress showed him to be a respectable youth, while his face might belong to any nation- ality ; for his complexion was dark, and somewhat sallow, his eyes dark, his hair black and straight, and his frame slender. "■ Sprechen sie Deutsch ? " asked the bri-and, once more returning to the examination. David shook his head. At this the brigand frowned, and once more relapsed into sih^nce for some time. At length he made a further effort. ''liusso?" he asked, in an interrogative tone, elevating his eyebrows. David shook his head. " Turco ? " asked the brigand agaiu, in the same tone and manner. Again David shook his head, wondering why the brigand sh(»uld for one moment imagine it possible that he could be a Russian or a Turk. " Greco ? " asked the brigand, in a tone of voice which seemed as though he was about to give it up as a hopeless conundrum. 148 AMONPr THE BRIGANDS. I When David shook his head at tiiis, the brigand turned away in disgust, and stood for a few mo- ments meditating. David felt liis fate to be hang- ing in the balance, and stood in deep suspense, watching with anxious ej'es the face of his captor. But the heavy beard and mustache, and the slouched felt hat, concealed all expression ; nor could David see anj'thing there which could at all lessen his anxiety. Ho thought, however, that if he could only communicate in some way his mourn- ful story, and let his captor see that he had como here unintentionally, and only wanted to get back to his friends, he might excite his compassion, if indeed there was any comy)assi(m in the stern soul of this awful being. It was David's only cnance, however ; and so, putting his hand timidly on the brigand's arm, he pointed towards the shore, and waved his arm towards Naples. At this the brigand stared ; but seeing that David persistently pointed in that direction, he walked off through the grove for a few paces, till he reached the top of the liank, where the beach ap- peared before him, and the boat drawn up on it. David followed liim, and as they came in sight of the boat he pt)inted towards it, and then touched his breast, meaning by that to show that the boat was his. This the brigand at once understood, and after once more staring hard at David, as though anxious to ascertain whether he was speak- ing the truth or nut, he bounded down the bank. A TERRIFIC INQUISITION. 149 and strode towards the boat, whicli lie examined narrowly, inside and out. During this time he paid no attention to David ; but to the poor lost lad this indifTerence gave no hope. Ife knew that there was no escape for him. fie felt that on this island the brigand was supreme, and any effort to fly would only be worse than useless. So, instead of trying to fly, he followed the brigand, and came up to where he was standing beside the boat. The brigand examined it very narrowly outside and inside, lie inspected the bow, the stern, and the rudder. lie knelt down and looked under- neath. He stepped inside and examine' 1 David's clumsy fastenings of the sail. These excited much interest, apparently, and caused i Kmged study on his part. To David all this apficirtd perfectly inteUigible, and very natural. The brigand was evidently examining his plunder, to see wiiat it was worth. David i'elt an additional pang of grief at the thought that he had sequestrated the proper- ty of some innocent Castellamare fisherman, and diverted it into the possession of brigands; but ho consoled himself by the thought that if ho ever escaped ho could hunt up the owner and make good the loss. Escape for himself was the first thing, and he tried to hope that the boat might prove a prize sufHciently valuable to mollify the mind of the brigand, and dispose him to mercy and com- passion. So, as the brigand inspected the boat, David stood watching the brigand, and looking m AMONG THE RRinANDR, earnestly to see wliethcr tlicro wore any signs of a relenting disposition. But the lace of the brig- and preserved an unchanged expression ; and af- ter he had examined the boat to his satisfaction, he once more confronted David, and the poor, for- lorn, despairing lad saw that his aspect was as ma- lign, as ferocious, and as truculent as ever. David determined to make a further effort. There was nothing else to be done. ITe felt that he must pacify this ferocious being, disarm his hostility, appease his cruelty, and, if possible, ex- cite his coni[)assion. To do all this, it would be necessary to ex])ress himself by signs — for he could not speak the language; and though signs seemed very inadequate, yet he had to resort to them. He had heard, however, of the skill of the Italians in expressing ideas by means of gestures, and he hoped that this man might gain some mean- ing from his unskilled efforts. So, first of nil, lie tried to tell the lirigand that he was from America. He laid one hand on his heart, and waved the other towards what he sup- posed to be the west. The brigand nodded solemnly, and seemed to comprehend what he wished to state. It gratified David to see this, and to notice also (hat the brig- and was very attentive, and fixed his dark, stern eyes upon him with closest scrutiny. The next thing that David tried to tell him was, that he had friends with him. SIGN LANGUAGE. 151 This ho did by patting his breast, waving his arms around him, smiling, and touching four of his fingers. Tlie brigand nodded. He had apparently got the idea. David was very much encouraged. The next thing to be told was, that he and his friends had gone on an excursion into the country. This he did by prancing along the sand, and snapping an imaginary whip; after wliich he pointed to the opposite shore, waving his hand along the country. The l)rigand nodded again, and appeared deeply interested. The next thing to be told was, that he had put off in this boat. He waved his hand towards Vesuvius. Then he lay down on the sand, and pretended to be asleep. He then rose, yawned, and rubbed his eyes. Then he went to the boat, pretended to push off and hoist sail. The brigand now nodded very vigorously, and it began to be evident to David that his story was 1 • • • maknig some impression. He now wished to explain that the boat had gut beyond his control, on account of his ignorance of navigation, and that he had drifted or been blown upon this shore. To do this, he pointed to the boat, then to him- self; after which he sighed and looked down in a 162 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. melancholy way. Then ho j2:ot into the boat and shook the sail. Then he jumped out and rocked it as violently as he could. Then he sank back on one knee with folded arms and upturned face, in- tending by that to indicate despair. Then he waved his hands all about, and pointed to the boat and to the sea ; and then, pointing alternately to the boat and to the sea, ho waved his hands, try- ing to indicate the track over whicli he had passed while approaching the island. After this he paused, and turned a supplicatory look at his captor. Thereupon the brigand nodded vehemently, as before. And now one thing yet remained for David to explain, and that was, his own position. lie wished to tell the brigand that he knew he was in his power, and that he would pay any ransom, if he would only restore him to his friends. To explain this, David took the big hand of the brigand, and put it upon his head, stooping down low as ho did so. Then he waved his arms all around, and mournfully shook his head. Which meant, that he Avas in the brigand's power, and would not and could not escape. Then he drew forth his purse, tapped it several times, held it out to the brigand, waved his hands towards Na- ples, slapped his breast, and pointed to the brig- and and to himself. Which meant, that he would pay any money, that he had friends in Naples who would treat witii the brigand for his release on his THE CAPTOn AND HIS CAPTIVE. 153 o^vn terms. Havirii^ explained this ranch, David 8topi)ed, for lie felt that there was nothing more for him to do, and watched the effect of his story^ and liis C()ncludin<^ offer. The brigand seemed gratified. He nodded sev- eral times gravely and thoughtfully. Then he looked at the boat, and then at David, and then at the sea. To David it seemed as if the brigand was trying to trace tiie boat's devious track over the water, s^o as to see whether his story was true or not. He did not offer any further explanations, but allowed the brigand to think it out for him- 8elf. That worthy accordingly devoted his mind to the consideration of the situation for some time, until at length he seemed to have mastered it, and also to liave come to a decision about his own course of conduct. He reached out his brawny hand, and laid it on David's head. After which he pointed to himself, and nodded. By this David saw, unmistakably, that the brig- and was claiming him as his own captive. Al- though tiie fact was already piiinfully evident, yet this formal statement of it produced a very de- pressing effect upon David's mind, and made him feel that he had been indulging in hopes too soon. Then the brigand waved his hand towanls the fields, and the cottage beyond the grove. After this, ho waved his hand in a general direction, and then swept it over the surrounding scene. He 154 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. pointcfl to tlie island and nodded, pointed to Na- ples and shook his head. By which David understood him to say, " You are my prisoner. I live in that house. You shall bo kept there. You can't escape." Then the brigand raised his gun, and nodded at David. Then he slapped the stock of it several times, fixing his keen, glowing eyes gloomily upon the lad as he did so. Then he waved his hand towards the sky. By which David understood the following : — " You're my prisoner ! You cannot escape ! If you dare try it, I will shoot you ! You can no more escape than you can fly in the air ! " Then the brigand pointed to the boat, and touched his breast. By which David understood, — " This boat is mine, and I will keep it as my lawful prize." Then he waved his hand to the house, and then pointed to Naples. After which he brought forth a purse from his pocket, tapped it significantly, pointed to David, and then to N.aples. By which David understood, — " I will keep you as a prisoner up there in my house till I communicate with your friends about your ransom, and find out how much I can get for you." After this the brigand pulled the boat farther up on the beach, and then, beckoning to David to follow, he strode off towards the house. DAVID CARRH^D OFF. 155 Slowly and sadly poor David followed ; and hope, which had lor a moment revived, began to die out within him. He had been deceived by the demeanor of the brigand, during his own descrip- tion of his woes and wandering, and had mista- ken for compassion what was only ordinary atten- tion. The manner of the brigand, when he had begun to gesticulate, changed hope to fear, and fear to despair. The merciless allusion to David's captive state ; the rude appropriation of him as a prisoner by the grasp of his head ; the ferocious threat with the gun ; and, finally, the display of the purse, and the coarse reference to money and ransom, all convinced David that he had to do with one who was a stranger to compassion — a ferocious and ruthless nature, without pity, and without re- morse. And now, as his captor led the way to the house, lie felt that he was being conveyed to a prison, from which his escape was, indeed, uncer- tain ; for, though he knew that Uncle Moses would pay any ransom, yet he could not know whether the brigand would ever be able to communicate with him or not. On the whole, it was the darkest hour of his life ; and the stride of the ruffian in front of him seemed like the march of inevitable Fate ! They climbed up the bank, and then went through the grove. p]rnerging into the field, they walked on towards the house. As they drew nearer, David saw signs that were not altogether 156 AMONG THE BRIOANDS. in keeping with the rougli exterior of his enemy, for in front of the cottage there were flowers in bloom, which appeared to be cultivated by some careful hand ; but a moment's thouglit sliowod Da- vid that thia might bo the work of the robber's wife. The prospect of meeting with a woman af- forded hope ; for whatever the husband might bo, the wife might be gentle, and pitiful, and woman- ly ; and David drew hope from the flowers ; lor the one that could have tastes like these might not be altogether hard and implacable ; and as the giants and ogres of the fairy books had wives who generally were willing to help tiie victims of their husbands, so here, in the wife of this Italian ogre, David hoped to find one who might be as merciful as those of fairy lore. At length they reached the house, and the brig- and, after waiting for a moment for his prisoner to come up, entered the door. David followed, and found himself inside. The door opened immediately into a room. It was large and low. The floor was paved with red tiles, and the walls were of wood, varnished. Around the Avails hung numerous jjictures with- out frames. In different places there were con- fused heaps of clothing and drapery. The clothing was rich, though fantastic. In one corner was a frame with armor suspended ; while over this, on the wall, he saw arms of different kinds — pistols, carbines, daggers, and blunderbusses. The fash- THE robber's hold. iff ion of all these was somewhat antique, and there was a richness in their ornaments whicli even David noticed, in spite of his trouble and anxiety. Tiie furniture about the room was old-fash, ioned, formed of massive mahogany, carved most elal)orately, and was of so many dilfurent styles that tlie pieces seemed thrown together at random. A Glastonbury chair stood beside an Elizabethan sofa ; a modern Davenport, a Louis Quatorze side- board, and a classic tripod, stood in a row. Some Chinese tables were in one corner. In the centre of the room was a table of massive construction, with richly carved legs, that seemed as old as the middle ages ; while beside it was an American rocking-chair, in which lay a guitar. The whole scene struck David as being perfectly in keeping with his captor ; for this interior looked like some pictures which he had seen of robber holds, where the accumulated plunder of years is heaped indiscriminately together, and remnided him vivid- ly of the descriptions which he had read of the abodes of pirates or brigands, in the novels of Cooper, in Francisco, the Pirate of the Pacific, Lafitte, the Pirate of the Gulf, and Rinaldo Ri- naldini. 158 AMONO THE BRIGANDS. CHAPTER XIV. On the Way to Sorrento a^^ain. — A viournful Ride. — ./ despair ill i^ Search. — A fearful Discovery. — The old l'iraj;o attain. — /« a Trap. — Sorrento aroused. — lie- sici^ed. — All lost. — // rai:^ing Cro7vd. — The hmvlini^ Has[. — Hurried Consultation. — The last Jorlorn Hope. — Disguise, Fliiiht, and Concealment. (k^^jO, iis I have sai(],tli(^ rarria^e rolled out from ^^^ Castellamare, alon^ the road to Sorrento, >.^ freip^hted with its anxious load. All were silent. Uncle Moses was weighed down hy an anxiety that was too deep for words, and sat bent forward with his head buried in his hands. The boys respected his feelings too much to say any- thing, and consequently they, too, sat in silence. They were far JVom feeling anything like despair, however, on David's accoimt. Before they started. Bob had assured them that " Dave " was " all right," and would turn up before long somewhere — an assurance which Frank and Clive accepted as a perfectly sound and reliable statement ; and so, if they were silent, it was not so much the silence of care or sadness, as of sympathy with Uncle Moses. ON Til 10 WAY TO SOHRKNTO AGAIN. 159 As they went along they met people from time to time, some wayfarers, some in carriages, some in wagons, and some on horseback. In accordance with the earnest request of Uncle Moses, the driver questioned all these without excei)tioii, and asked tiie same (juestion of all. " Have you seen anything of a boy about fifteen years old — pale, with dark hair, sallow face, and gray dress? " And to this question there was one uniform answer from every one. " No." And at each fresh answer Uncle Moses would feel more and more disheartened, and sink into a new abyss of despondency .md anxiety. Far different was this journey to Sorrento from that former one which they had made a few days before. Then they were all together, and every one Avas filled with joy and enthusiasm. Then no one in that little party was penetrated with a more profound and heartfelt joy than David, who, in addition to a boy's delight at novelty, brought forth all that classical glow and fervor which were peculiarly his own. And now, where was he ? The nearer they drew to Sorrento, the more urgent and pressing did this question become ; and as each one asked it of himself, there was no answer. Gradually the spectacle of the woe of Uncle Moses began to affect the boys, and in spite of Bob's con- fidence they began to feel an unpleasant fear steal- ing over them. 160 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. A little 'vay out of Sorrento the driver halted and spoke to Uncle Moses. He felt a little troubled, he said, about taking the carriage into tlio town. Ho reminded them of the recent uproar of the people, and their narrow escape, and warned them that if they were rec- ognized they might again be assailed. But this warning fell on heedless ears. Uncle Moses was decided to gtt on. If David was any- where, he might be in that very town, a pr ner in the hands of those foolish people who took of- fence at nothing. If they wished to save him, they must go into the very midst of the people, and save him from their vengeance. At this the driver drove on. About a half a mile outside the town they over- took an old woman, and the driv'er stopped, an(( put to her the usual question. As the woman looked uj) they all recognized her at once. She was their old friend, or rather enemy — the virago herself, and no other ! At the driver's question she stared at them, and at once recognized them all. A dark and gloomy expression came over her, and if glances could have injured them they would have been blasted on tiie spot. She stood there, and after the driver had asked the question she glared at them ibr some time in silence, looking from one to the (;ther. Then she stretched forth a long, bony, skinny hand, and REAPPEARANCE OF THE 01. D A'lRAGO. 161 shook it iit them. Then she burst forth in a long, shrill, venomous strain of denunciation, of which the boys could not understand one word; but the meaning of which they could easily conjecture. " What does she say ? '"' asked Uncle Moses of the driver. " 0, nothing," said the driver. " She only doea curse ; and she say she will hal' vengeance." And once more the driver urged Uncle Mosea to go back. But this appearance of the virago and her threats only roused Uncle Moses to fresh deter- mination. He was now confident tliat David had been seized by tlie iSorrentonians, and that this M'oinan was, perhaps, the instigator and leader in the act. He urged the driver to talk to her ; but the driver eissured him that it was useless, that she was crazy, and that if they wanted to gain information they must make inquiries elsewhere. They now resumed their progress, and before long entered the town, and reached the hotel. Uncle ^foses at once sought the landlord. At the appearance of the cirriage and ])assenger8 the landlord looked a little nn.Msy, and at the inquiry of Uncle Moses he looked stih more troubled. But as to David he knew nothing whatever. " Had he heard of a boy being arrested any- where ? " " iXo — nothing at all." " Had he heard of any one being arrested?" 11 162 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. " No." " Had be lieard any people making any threats against tiiom ? " " O, certainly — for the whole of the next day there was nothing but threats against the sac- rilegious foreigners ; bnt the feeling had subsided Still th( nito Id snice. otui tlieir appearance in >( undoubtedly rouse the people again, and the land- lord urged them for their own sakes to liurry away as fast as possible back to Castellamare. But Uncle Moses refused to think of this. He was here, Jind here he would remain until he had found David. He wanted the landlord to help him in this task. Let him go out and mollify the j)eo- ple in any way, and see if he could find anything about the lost boy. He promised to pay any sum to the landlord, or anybody else, if they would only eil'ect his rescue. This ])roniise acted powerfully upon the land- lord's cupidity, and he thought that at any rate it would be well to try. So ho told Uncle Mosea to wait, and he would see what could bo done. Ho thereupon left them, and Uncle xMoses and the boys walked uj) stairs to that same room in whijh they had dined before, when the uproar of the people reached their ears. Here they sat down and waited in silence. They did not have to wait very long. Tt was not more than a (piarter of an hour, or twenty minutes, when hurried footsteps were heard, and A RAGING CROWD. 163 (l- the landlord ruKhed in, followed by the drivcE. Both wore agitated and disturbed. At the same instant an outcry arose from without, and a tumult of eager and excited voices burst upon their ears. Tiio landlord clasped his hands, and stood listening. The driver rushed to Uncle Moses, and cried, — " Dey liaf come ! — de people ! You are lost ! " At this IJiude Moses and the boys started to their feet aghast, and Frank rushed to the win- dow, and standing so as to be as little observed as possible, he looked out. In the street in front ho saw an excited crowd, which was not so large as it had been on that former memorable occasion, but which promised to be so before another quarter of an hour, for people were ruiuiing up every minute, and adding to the uproar, 'i'lie cries grew louder and louder, and though Frank could not understand the words, he perceived plainly enough that they werefierce cries of anger and vengeance. And there, conspicuous among this crowd, was that identical old woman — that villanous old virago, who had caused all the former trouble, and seemed now bent upon the full accom[)lishment of her furious purpose. Dan- cing, howling, shrirking, sho stood close by the door of tlie hotel, which was now shut and barred, and shook her lists at the building, and yelled out curses at those within, and calletl upon her fellow- citizens to break into the hotel, and seize the sao- rilegious and barbarous foreigners. Frank was a 164 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. bold boy, but this sight was too much for liim. His heart sank within him, and he involuntarily shrank back iarther out of sight. Soon the people outside began to throw at the party within something harder than words. Stones came flying through the open windows, and one of these missiles came very close to the head of Uncle Moses. The landlord rushed forward, and closed all the shutters, and barred them, while the boys gathered around Uncle Moses as though to protect him I'rorn those savage assailants without. " What shall we do ? " asked Frank of the driver. The driver shrugged his shoulders. " Can't wo drive through them as we did before ? " " Dey have put a guard at de gate. Dey pre- pare dis time — an not let us go." " Isn't there any back way?" asked Frank, once more, of the landloivl, who now I'ejoined them, alter having barred all the windows. " Dere is ; but de people are on de guard." "Are there no soldiers about — no police? Can't some one go and get help ? " The landlord shook his head despondingly. " JJut there must be some Wiiy of getting rid of the mol)," said Fiank, impatiently. "Can't you explain that it was all a mistake ? " The landlord sighed. " I liaf try," he said, in a doleful voice. " And HURRIED CONSULTATION, 165 dey say I mus put you out of de house. Dat I can not do — so I sail haf to soffairo. Listen ! " And at that moment the crash of glass below interrupted him, and formed a striking com- mentary on his remarks. " Dey vill break de vin- dow/' saiil he, " an dey vill try to break de door; but I haf barricade as well as I can." " Are we at all safe ? " asked Frank. The landlord shook his head. " Not mooch. If dey get enrage enough, dey break in, and den" — a signiticant shrug ended the sentence. " Have you any arms — fire-arms ? " asked Frank, after a thoughtful pause. " I haf a small shot gun." " Give me that," interrupted Frank. " liut I h;if no powdaire," said the landlord. At tin's Frank turned away in despair. " Can't we get to some other room than this ? " ho asked of the driver. " Isn't there a place where we can have some chance of defending ourselves ? " The driver had been silent for some time, and buried in thought. He did not hear Frank's words, but as he spoke, ho looked earnestly at him, and siiid, — " I haf a [)l!in. It may be no good — but it is de only one." " Ah," asked Fnmk, eagerly, " what is that? " " You must all disguise." " Disguise ? " 166 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. "Yes — female dress. I sail try to p:et some." " But tlicy would recognize us all the same." "No — de plan is dis. You all disguise — stay below — I sail sit in de carriage ; de horses are all ready now. Ef do people do break in, dey will all rush up stair to here. You sail be down stair in de stable. De moment de crowd come, I will haf de gates opened. You sail spring in — an den I whip up, an make a fly for life. You ond'stan ? " The driver spoke hurriedly. Frank understood him, and at once approved. At this the driver went off to get the landlord to procure female dresses. That worthy hurried away, and soon returned with about twenty gowns, bonnets, and petticoats. These he threw upon the floor, and implored them to make haste, for the people out- side were talking of getting a beam to batter in the door. Ho had implored them not to, but they scorned his prayers. Upon this the boys began to put on the dresses, disguising themselves as well as they could. It was very clumsy work, and they were very uncer- tain about the proper way of fastening them ; but the driver and the landlord assisted them. The dresses were those of Italian peasant women, and required no very elaborate adjustment. Some coarse bonnets, of an anti(]ue type, were stuck on their heads, and served to conceal their short hair and faces. With Uncle Moses they had very much trouble. PRRPARATIONS FOR LEAVING. 167 At first he refused positively, and only con- sented when he was assured that the safety of the boys depended upon his disguise. So he yielded reluctantly, and allowed the driver to officiate as lady's maid. No sooner was this task concluded, than the landlord and driver hurried them down stairs, and through a passage-way into the barn. Outside, in the court-yard, was the carriage, with the horses ready. The hostler was sent to the gate to fling it open at the driver's signal, and the landlord, stimulated by a promise from Uncle Moses of a large reward in case of his rescue, returned to the hotel, to operate upon the crowd from that quarter. 108 AMONG THK BRIGANDS. CHAPTER XV. In the Robber's Hold. -The Brii^and's Bride.- Sudden, amazini,r, overwhelming, bewilderinj^r, tremendous, as- tounding, overpoiverini^, and crushing Discovery. — The Situation. — Everybody confounded — The Crowd at Sor- rento. — The Landlord's Prayers. — The Virago calls Jo/' Vengeance. l^fe^HE brigand put his gun down upon the sofa, "''*'"^ and motioned to David to take a seat. He tlion left the room, and David heard his voice calling, — '' Laura ! Laura ! " A Ught footstep sounded in the next room, and the brigand returned, followed by a woman. This woman's appearance astonished David. She was a lady. She was young, beautiful, bright as a vision, dressed simply, but in the modern fashion altogether. She had a very sweet lace, and a bewitching smile, and as she entered she looked at David in some surprise. Then this great, big, bluff, bearded, broad- shouldered, beetle-browed, brusque bully of a brigand; this fierce, ferocious, bloodthirsty, re- lentless, ruthless ruffian; this hard-hearted, im- THE BRIGAND S ACCOUNT OF DAVID. 169 placable, inoxorablo villain ; this cruel, vengeful, vindictive, griping, grasping, scowling fiend ; this demoniac miscreant, without pity, and without re- morse, opened Iiis mouth. And this is what ho said, in first-rate English ! — " See here, Laura; I've picked up a pour wretch of a Bohemian — can't speak a word of any lan- guage, and had to explain by signs. AVell, you know I'm great on gestures; so I worked his story out of him. It seems he came to Naples with his father, mother, and two sisters, and they all went on horseback up Vesuvius. Well, somehow they were captured by brigands, and were carried off; but the father, who, 1 believe, is a medical man, managed to drug the food of the scoundrels, and carried oif his family. Well, they got to the shore, i'ound a boat, and set out for Naples. After sailing a little distance, a s(juall struck the boat, and it upset. All were drowned except this poor lad, who managed to cling to the boat, and drift( d, or was blown, ashore here on the cove, just down there, last night. He was senseless all night, and only came to himself a little while ago, and I picked him up just as he was reviving. He says he is alone in tiie world, and has appe;ded to me to iiflp him. Poor lad ! my heart fairly aclies for him. IJo says he hasn't got a penny of money, and implores me to help him. Of course I've tried to comibrt him; for I've told him that lu,' may make my house his home, and I've promised to no AMONG THE BRIP.ANDS. give him wluitovor money he wanta, and movo heaven and earth to get him back to his frieudrt, if lie has any." During this astounding speech tho lady had stolen over to David, and s-itting by his side, she placed a soft hand tenderly on his head. As the story was being told, her oy in such an absurd fashion — and I'vo always told you that this room looks like a bandit's den." "No, no, Laura; say an artist's studio. IIow could I got along without my furniture. As for my dress, it's quite in keeping with the place and the people. Its picturesque, and that's all an artist is bound to consider." Further explanations followed, in the course of which it appeared that this ex-brigand was Mr. Walter Ludlow, an American artist, who, for the time being, was living here with his bride. They had been married three months. The island was Capri. They were enjoying love in a cottage, which cottage was furnished in an artistic, rather than a fashionable way. They lived here quite free from restraint, and the artist occupied the time partly with his art, and partly with general enjoyment. Neither of them felt at all inclined to leave Capri for some time to come, but thought it the pleasantest place in the world. Ludlow jiappened that day to be cleaning his gun, with the intention of going on a shooting- excursion. The noise which had been made in the wood by David had startled him, and he had gone to see what it was, with the idea that some cattle had strayed along the shore, and were coming into the fields and gardens. When Ludlow explained his gestures to David, and the latter confessed what interpretation he 174 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. had put on tlioin, further liiiiu'liter was elicited from the fun-loviiip; artist, in which his wife joined, and David also. Ludlow, as soon as he was in a condition to speak, proceeded to explain what ho really meant. Ilis g:estures were all intended by him to express the following ideas : — 1. I'm an American. 2. I don't live here — I only lodge. 3. I'm an artist. 4. I'm veiy sorry for you, and I'll tako care of you. 5. I'm going out sliooting soon. 6. Don't fret. I'll tako care of you, and the boat too, as long as you like. 7. I live in that house up there, and you can stay there till you hear from your friends. But Mrs. Ludlow now retreated, and before long she had a table set for their young guest, at which David took his seat, and ate with an appe- tite that had been sharpened by his long fast. While at the tal)lo Ludlow questioned him more particularly about his friends, and wher^; ho had left them. " Well, David, my lad," said the artist, at length, " I should like very much to have you stay Avith U8 for a time; and if you could, I Jeel conlident that I could show you what would Avell repay you. Are you aware that on this island is one of the wonders of the world — the liunous jrrotto? I should like to take you there — but I see how it IX SORIiKNTO. 175 is. As you say, your undo will bo wild with anxiety aliout you, ;uid will 'i!:ivo no peace till he hears Iroia you. So I riuj)p(js(! the best thing I can do tor you, is to restore you to Iiirn first ol' all, and then arrange for a visit fVoni you ail on some future occasion."' David thankeil him very earnestly, and dwelt strongly upon the anxiety of Uncle Moses under the circutnstances. "Well, my lad,"' said Ludlow, "1 think you'd best go olf at once, aiul 1 mean to go with y(»u. Unfortunately there is a head wind, just now, so that we cannot go to Castellamare without taking too long a time, 'i'he best way will be to go over to Sorrento from this place, and take a carriage, or horses, Xo Castellamare." This projxjsal pleased David greatly, and as Ludlow was reatly to start, Ik^ rose to go. Mrs. Ludlow bade him good by, and pressed him al- fectiouately to come baik with his friends. In a short time they were in the boat and afloat. Ludlow was a good sailor, and the wind was favor- able for a passage to Sorrento. The distance was traversed ipiickly and pleasantly ; and then, leav- ing the boat, they walked up into the town towards the JKjtel, to see about getting a conveyance to Castellamare. As they approached the hotel they became aware of a gieat and unusual crowd in front of it. The crowd reminded David very forcibly of that 176 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. one which had been raging there a few days before, and excited some trepidation in his breast. Invohmtarily he hung l)ack. '' What's tlio matter?" asked Ludlow. "The mob," said David; "do — do you think it's safe to venture among them ? " '' Safe '! Pooh ! why not ? " '• They appear to be excited. Hark ! how they shout." " 0, nonsense ! These Italians are always shout- ing." But David still hesitated, and finally told Lud- low aljout the tiouble with the tassel, and the old woman, and the nidb, and their escape. At this story Ludlow laughed heartily, and then proceeded to reassure David. " Dt)n't be alarmed," said he ; " they won't re- member y(»u. 11' they did, I've got something that'll make them keep at a respecttul distance ; " and he touched his breast significantly. " A six- shooter, David, my boy, is a very convenient thing to carry alujut one in this cnuntry, and it is surprising how the native mind respects it. So come along, and we — that is, 1 and my six- shooter'll — take care of you. Don't be uneasy. They've got something (dse on their minds now." With these words Ludlow walked on, and David followed, full of fear. The crowd in front of the hotel was in a great state of rage and excitement. Some were banging David's fears. 177 at the door, others pounding against the window shutters, which had been closed \)y the terrified hmdlord ; others were standing at a distance, and try- ing to find stones to throw. Fortunately there were no loose stones of any size, few being larger than a pebble, and therefore, as yet, no very great dam- age had bo(!n done. But the crowd was evidently capable of any amount of mischief. Every one was howling, and yelling; and in the midst of them was an old woman, whose shouts and shrill cries made her conspicuous in the scene, She was en- couraging and stimulating a number of men who were carrying a beam U> the house, which they evidently pur})()sed to use as a battoring-ram, so as to burst open the door. The moment that David caught sight of this woman, he shuddered, and falling behind Ludlow, caught at his hand, and tried t>) ]iiill him back, Ludlow turned in sur{)rise, '* It's the same woman," said David, in nn agitated voice, " who chased nic" "Is it?" said Ludlow, with a .smile. " O, well, you've got me with you now. So be a man — cheer uj), my boy. It's ;dl right." Saying this, liUcllow again walkeil forward, this time keeping his left hand on David's arm. David felt that it was not ''all right," but he had to fol- low fiudlow, and so he folhtwed him into the midst of the crowd. Working their way on through the people, they at last came near to the 12 178 AMONG THE BRKiANDS. door, and found themselves close hy i]\o men avIio were ciirrying the beam. Thev liiid In id it on the ground, and were hesitating i'or a moment. Over- head Ludlow heard the voice ol'the laudloid plead- ing with them in piteous tones. " O, good citizens! O, dear citizens! Don't destroy my furniture ! Don't ruin me! There is a mistake. On my honor, the strangers are in- nocent." At this the old virago howled f»ut some insane maledictions, and urged the crowd on. Home on the outskirts yelled, and the old hag, whirling around in the midst of her tirade, found herself face to lace with Djivid. The terrified lad shrank back, and tried to hide himself; but the old woman recognized him at once, and with a howl sprang at him. Ludlow saw tlie movement. He put liimself in front of David, and, seizing the old woman's arm in a grasp like a vice, held her back, and asked her sternly, in Italian, — " Accursed one ! what do you mean ? " " O, citizens ol •'^orrento ! " shrieked the hag. " 0, pious citizens ! rTel|) ! This is the accursed boy ! This is the sacrilegious one ! the blasphemer ! the insulter of the Bambino ! the — " "Silence!" roared Lu.Ilow, in a voice of thun- der. " Men of Sorrento, is this the M'ay you treat strangers ? Does this mad thing govern the city ? " " The boy, the boy ! the blasphemer 1 tho sao- i F THE MOB AT SOKRKNTO. 119 I rilegious ! the accursod !" slirioked the hit;x. And at hiT yells some of tii(! nu)h seemed iiielinod to respf)nd. They were already ripe for misehiel", and when the hafj^ diverted their attention to David, th(;y felt ([uite ready to take him in liand. So now u rini,^ of dark fiice-; was formed around Lud- low, and the yells of the haj; directed them to Boi/e David. Ludlow |MisIie(l the hag from him, drew his revolver from hi.s breast, and took two strides towards the house, whieli was closo liy, dragging David after him. Then he put his back against the wall, and ladding the revolver in an ap- parently careless manner, with it3 mw/.'/Ao turned towards the crowd, he once more opened his mouth. " Men of Sorrento ! " said ho, " what foolery is this? Tlie Woman is mad. I liavo just come from Capri, with this boy. Many of yon know mo, for I am often here : and now. when I come, am I to bo insulted by a mad woman? Arc you — " " Si'i/.c him ! seize the boy ! the boy 1 the bias* pheuKM- ! '' yelled the hag. Ludlow placed his hand on David's head, and looked with a smile on the crowd nearest. '• |)oes her madness usually take this form, gei> tlenien ? ■' he add.'tl ; " (hies she usually show this animosity to little boys and children?" At this (juestion, which was a^ked in an easj and uat»iral manner, the crowd looked abashed. 180 AMOXG THE URIGANDS. They bef:j;aii to tliink tliat the woinaTi was crazy. Those to whom Ludlow had y])oken were the very men who had brought the beam but a lew min- utes before. They now edged slowly away, and began to think that they had done a very silly thing. " What's the trouble, signori ? "' asked Lud- low, in the same easy tone, of those who were nearest. " Well, they say there are some people inside that desecrated the clmrch — some boys — " " What — boys ? " said Ludlow, with a smile. " Who says so ? " The men shrugged their shoulders. " She says so." Ludlow thereupon shrugged his shoulders. " Seize him ! seize him ! seize him ! " yelled the hag, who all this time had kept up her insane outcry. " Somebody had better seize /n^r," said Ludlow, with a laugh. " Why, gentlemen, she will give your town a very bad name." The crowd nearest had already undergone a revulsion of feeling. The assault of the old wo- man on two harmless strangers seemed too wanton to be tolerated, liudlow's easy manner and calm language restored them i'ully to their senses, and the sight of his revolver etrectually overawed the more excitable or reckless. They were also jealous of the good name of the town, and now began to THE VIRAGO DRIVEN OFF. 181 bt' (Miraged with t\u- old vvomaii. A imirinur passed tlirou^li them. Curses were freely lavished upon her, and the threats which l)ut a short tiiiio ago had been directed against the landlord and his guests, were now hurled at her. 'I'lie hug, how- ever, in her fury, was quite unconscious of all this, and continued to yell as before, endeavoring to honnd them on against David. But the crowd was now disgust(>d with her and her yells. " Stop your diabolical yells ! " cried an angry voice. " Go home, and stay home, or you'll have a strait jacket put on you." The hag stopped short, as though thunderstrnck, and looked around with staring eyes. It w^as a young man who thus addressed her; he waa grasping her arm and looking savagely at lier. Evidently he was some relative, of whom she stood in awe, for with something like a gasp she seemed to shrink into herself, and then, gathering her clothes about her, slunk away through the crowd. Ludlow had often been at Sorrento before, and saw some I'amiHar faces among the people. These ho accosted, and soon found out what the trouble was. Although some of these very men had been howling like maniacs a short time before, yet they now were as (juiet, and gentle, and amial>le as lambs. They sneered at the old hag, deplored the excitement, and assured him that no harm had been done. ■■fl 182 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. Soon the crowd dispersed, and tlio landlord, who had been watching the scene in deep anx- iety, came down, opened the doors, and gave Lud- low and David a most eager, exuberant, and en- thusiastic welcome. MORE TROUBLES FOR POOR DAVID. 183 CHAPTER XVI. More Troubles for poor David. — Onset of four Women. — Seized by an old Crone and three Peasant Girls. — Fresh Horror of David. — A neiu Uproar in the Yard of the Inn. — Uncle Moses bent double. t ''ip: UDLOW be^rjin to talk to the landlord about itT^' a conveyance to Castellainare, and David ^p"'^ walked tliroui:;!! the lionsu into the yard, David's only desire now was to hurry on and join his friends as soon as jiossihle. lie had not the remotest idea that they were in Sorrento, and that the trouble had arisen about them, but fancied that they weiu; in Castellamare, full of anxiety aliout him. Sympathiziiifj^ with their anxiety, ho longed to go to them, so as to put an end to it ; and seeing a carriage in the yard, he naturally walked in that direction. Reaching, the yard he noticed that the lu)rses were in it, and that it was a l).irouci.e, like the one in which his party liad beei' travelling. Not for one moment did he sup- pose tl'.at it was the same one, nor did he notice it very closely ; but giving it a careless glance, he looked around to see those to whom it be- longed. e>. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) // 1.0 !!: I.I |32 1^ y4 ■ 2.5 iii "- IIIIIM ill 1.8 11.25 III 1.4 i 1.6 ^^ <^ /} % A /^ 4'V^ 7 Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 145S0 (716) 872-4503 % 184 AMOXi; THK KKKJANns. As David went out into the yard, the driver had just gone into the barn to tell Uncle Mosea and the boys that the trouble was over and the crowd was dispersing. Ti.eir joy may be imagined. They were just hastening from the barn to return to the hotel, and had just reached the barn door when David approached. David was walking along towards the barn, looking around to see where the people were, when suddenly he heard a wild cry, and saw a figure rush straight towards him. It was a wo- man's figure, and she appeared quite old. Like lightning, the thought flashed through him that this was his old tormentor, the hag ; and with a gasp he started back, and was about to run. But the other was too quick for him, and David felt himself seized by his dreaded enemy. This dreaded enemy tlien behaved in a frantic way, hugging him and uttering inarticulate words. Da- vid struggled to get free from her, and throwing a frightened glance at her i'ace, which was but part- ly visible, beneath a very shabby bonnet, he saw that she was quite old, and that tears were stream- ing down fiom her eyes. Tliis frightened David all the more, for now he was sure that she was insane. But now, to David's horror, he found himself sur- rounded by throe more women, in coarse dresses and horribly shabby bonnets. They all made a simultaneous rush at him, seizing his hands and arms, and seemed about to tear him to pieces. In ONSET OP FOUR WOMEN. 185 vain he struggled. He was helpless. A cold shudder passed through him, and a thrill of horror tingled every nerve. All this had been the work of an "ustant. So sudden had been the onset, and so overwhelmed was David with utter horror, that lie could not even scream for help. But at last he got his mouth open, and was just about to give one piercing yell for help, when the words were taken out of his mouth, and his voice stopped, and a new and greater sur{)rise created within him. " David ! David ! My boy ! my boy ! " moaned the first old woman. "Dave! You rascal! What do you mean by this ? " cried woman Number Two. " Dave ! Old bov ! What in the world is the meam'ng of this ? " cried woman Number Three. " Dave ! How did you find us?" cried woman Number Four. "Where have you been?" "Where did you come from ? " " When did you get here ? " " What made you go off? " " Did they seize you ? " *' Was it the old woman that did it?" These questions, and scores of others, tame pouring forth into In'^ astonished ears. As for David, he could not uttor one single word. At length the yearning allec- tion of Uncle Moses seemed to be satiated, and the boisterous greetings of the boys exhausted, and one by one they released their grasp, and al- lowed David to extricate himself. 186 AMONG THK URKiANDS. Tliereupon David stood ofF at a little distance, and gazed at them in mute amazement. The wight which tliey presented to his astonished eyes wa8 one which might have excited strong emotions in tl»e l)reast of any beholder. There stood Uncle Moses, his figure conceoled under a tattered gown, and his venerable head en- folded in a battered bonnet of" primeval styh;. There stood Frank, looking like a strapping peasant woman, with a bonnet that was stuck on tlie top of his head like a man's hat. There stood Clive, looking like a pretty peasant girl, quite Italian in his style, with a dress that was a trille neater than the others. And there was Bob, an utter and unmitigated absurdity, — with a dress that was tangled about his legs, and a boiniet that had no crown. The four of them looked more like escaped lunatics than anything else, and no sooner had David taken in the whole scene, than he burst forth into a per- fect convulsion of laughter. 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 es- cape, and the costumes, being thus a help to safety, had been dignified in their eyes. But now, when the danger was over, and safety assured, there was nothing to hide from their eyes the unutter- able absurdity, t'lo inconceival)le ludicrousness of their appearance. As David's laugh burst forth, UPROAU IN THE YARD OF THE INN. 187 each turned his eyes upon the other, and saw how it was. Then tliey all burst fortii ! It was a cataclysm of laughter. The boys swayed backward and for- ward, and danced up and down, and shouted, and yelled with laugliter. Uncle Moseri 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 eacli figure. Clive laughed till he sank down; and Bob, flinging himself upon the ground in a perfect {)aroxysni, 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 al- together understand it ; but he saw David, and ho 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 188 AMOXO THE HKI(;AXDS. on the stone steps, iind burying his face in his hands, gave way utterly. Thus it was, tlien, 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. lie felt afraid of giv- ing trouble, and thought they had better get back to Naples. Ludlow, however, pooh-poohed his scruples, answered every objection, annint ont to them the most beautiful spots on that lovely- isle, he could also talk learnedly about the ancient Caprrea, 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 Imytrovisa- tore. After that glowing, poetic, and e-ithusias- tic narrative, no other need be attempted. Here they passed 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 ill went back to Naples. VESUVIUS. 191 CHAPTER XV n. Vt'siivius. — Ponies and Sticks. — Sand and Lava. — The rocky Steps. — T/tc rollin;^, wrathful .Sniokc-chuds. — The I 'olcano warns them off. — The lost Boy. — A fear- ful Search. — A despe^cte Effort. — The sulphurous Vapors. — Over the slidinjr Sands. '^if*lYlEi siglit of Vesuvius from a distance had f filled David with an ardent desire to visit it, and all the rest shared this feelinp^. 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. Tiie crater was disturlied. 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 lor thousands of feet, for 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, 192 AMON(J Tin: HHUJANOS, and roll far (town its sides, and envelop it in its dense, hhick, voluminous I'olds. As yet, in spite of these ap{)earanccs, the ascent might be made in safety, though every day less- ened the ehaJices of an ascent hy 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 further delay. Accordingly, two days after their excursion to Baiie, they set out, going first to Portici, whore they hired ponies to take them to the foot of the cone ; each one supplied himself with a good stout stick to assist his ascent, and Michael Angelo went with them as general man- ager 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 ap- peared, no houses, no flocks, and herds — all was wild, and savage, and dismal. After passing 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. VESUVIUS. 193 Hero the mountain arose grandly hoforo thoro, with its Hinokt'-cloiul ovorlianginjzj its stct^p si(i jh. ascending from where they stood to where tiie view was lost in smoke. At one part therci was a snrfaeo of U)ose sand, and at another wild, dis- ordered hea|)s of cruinhled lava blocdcs. Over these last Michael Angelo led them, for these blocks formed stepping-stones by which to make the ascent. A numbiir of men were here with chairs and i traps, who olTered them assistance ; but they all dticlined, even Uncle Moses choosing to rely on his unassisted nniscle. Then thoy began the ascent of the cone. The lava blocks were of all sizes, and lay strewn loosely down the steep side. It was like ascentling 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 wind- ward side the visitor can stand and breathe freely. 13 104 AMOXn THE URK^WnS, On tlie prosont oecHHion, liowt^vcr, tlicio was little or no wind ; aiwi tlu* smoke, which wmh far denser than usuiil, gathered in thick, Mack lolds, ami Bometimes rulled down the sides of the coiio, and hid ti)e crest from view. Michaid Aiijrelo ex- prcpsed a fear that they wonhl not l»e aide to reach the crest ; and as they drew nearer, every step showe " that this fear was well Ibniided. At last, when thev 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 nmoke. It rolled away at last, yet still hovered near them, every little while moving threateningly down, as though to drive them back, and ])revent 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. THE LOST BOY. 195 There was no response. Fear camo to thorn — a sickening, awful fear. All shouted - the boys, Uncle Moses, and Michael Angolo. Still there was no response. Again, and again, and yet again, they called, by this time in an agony of approhensi'a, but to all these cries the surrounding stillness ga'.o forth not one answering sound. An of descent not far off, and led the way towards it. Here they found the side of the cone all covered with loose sand. Down this they went. At every step they sank in up to their ankles, and the sliding soil bore them down, so that for every step they took they were carried the length of two or three steps. Frank clung to Bob till he had got beyond the reach of the smoke, and then he I'ell backward, gasping for bre.ith. The others scrambled towards him, eager to helj) him; and ilieliael Angelo, wlio had exerted himself tlio least of all, and was fresher than any of them, raised Bob in his arms, and said that he would take care of him now. At 200 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. this Frank gave up his precious burden, and resuming their descent, they were soon at the foot of the cone. Here they sat down, and Bob was hiid upon the sand. With trembhng hands they I'olt for his heart, and found, to their unspeakable joy, that it was still beating. There was no water near ; but they chafed his feet and hands, and did what they could. For a long time their efforts were unavail- ing; but at last Bob opened his eyes, and drawing a long breath, looked around him with a face full of astonishment. " What's — the — matter ? " he murmured, in a feeble voice. At this tears of joy flowed into the eyes of Uncle Moses, and his lips murmured inaudible Avords of prayerful gratitude. " O, notliing," said Frank, who ])y this time had completely recovered from his latigue. " Nothing of any consequence. Don't bother. You'll be all right soon." Bob seemed too weak to say much, and even to think. lie lay there in silence, and with an ex- pression of l)ewilderment on his face, evidently trying to eoilect his scattered faculties, so as to account ibr his present situation. And now the question was, how to get Bob home. The men with chairs and straps hud gone away, so that this mode of ct)nveyance see;ned denied them. After waiting a short time, however, ARRIVAL AT THE HERMITAGE. 201 they saw a party approaching who were evidently about to try the ascent. They consisted of ladies and gentlemen, and were accompanied by some chair and strap men. Seeing Bol) and his friends, they made inquiries; and on leurning what had happened, the ladies refused to make the ascent on so unfavorable a day, but preferred postponing it to a more auspicious time. Michael Angelo there- fore was able to obtain one of the chairs for Bob; and setting him up^n it, they carried him towards the Hermitage, where they arrived without any further mishap. Here Bob grew rapidly better, and was able to tell his story. He had felt very anxious to see tiie crate ^,nd equally anxious to see it first. Taking advantage of a time when the smoke had retreated, he had made a rush, and had just attained the very edge of the crater, when suddenly he found himself overwhelmed by a tremendous cloud of smoke. To resist it, or to endure it in any way, was impossible. He thought only of flight. He turned nieclianical- ly, and ran, with this idea of flight alone in his mind. That was all lie remembered. He must have run for at least a hundred feet, for that was about the distance which lay between the summit and the place where he was found. Michael Angelo started off and got a carriage, by means of which Bob was taken to Naples. He did not seem to have suffered any very serious injury ; 202 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. but for some days he was quite languid and miser- able, and complained of a taste of sulphur in his mouth; his coat, too, which on going up was of a dark-blue color, had become quite faded, from the action of the powerful sulphurous fumes. On the whole. Bob, as weU as the rest of the party, had ample reason to feel thankful. POMPEII, THE CITY OF THE DEAD. 203 CHAPTER XVIII. Pompeii^ the City of the Dead. — The Monuments of the Past. — Temples, Toivcrs, and Pa faces. — Tombs and Monuments. — Theatres and Amphitheatres. — Streets and Squares. /JVv FEW davs after their ascent of Vesuvius, (»7gg\^ the whole party started off to visit Pora- 4^^^ poii. The prospect of this journey gave them unusual delight, ^^^b had now completely recovered his health and spirits. Clive's poetic interest in so renowned a place was roused to tho highest pitch of enthusiasm. David's classical taste was stimulated. Frank's healthy love of sight-seeing was excited by tho thought of a place that so far surpassed all others in interest ; and Uncle Moses evidently considered that this was the one thing in Euroi)e M'hich could repay tho traveller for the fatigues of a pilgrimage. Thus each, in his own way, felt his inmost heart stirred within him as they ap{)roached tho disentombed city ; and at length, when they reached the en- trance to the place, it is difficult to say which ono felt the strongest excitement. They found a number of other visitors there, 204 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. consisting of representatives of all nations — Rus- sians, Germans, Americans, French, and English ; ladies, gentlemen, and boys. Michael Angelu was with them, and was more useful to them than any more guide-book could have been. The first emotions of awe which filled their minds as they entered the streets of the mysteri- ous city gradually faded away, and they began to examine everything with great interest. The first thing that struck their attention was the extreme narrowness of the streets. There was only room for one carriage to pass at a time. The sidewalks were a foot higher than the carriage-way. There were crossing-stones that stood high above the pave- ment. The sidewalks were paved with brick, and the carri'lge-way with lava blocks, which were very neatly joined together. Clivo took a piece of brick as a relic, and David broke off a fragment from one of the crossing-stones for the same purpose. They soon came to a ruined edifice, which Mi- chael Angelo called the Basilica. It was tAvo hun- dred feet in length, and seventy in width. At one end still remained the Tribunal or Seat of Justice, seven feet above the pavement ; and all around the walls were columns formed of brick, covered with plaster. The boys picked off some of the plaster as relics. Leaving this, they went on and came to another ruined edifice, which Michael Angelo called the Temple of Venus. It was built round a court- THE MONUMENTS OF THE PAST. 205 yard, with porticos. Hero David and Clivc ob- tained some more relics. Beyond tliis was an open square surrounded by pillars, of which only tlie lower parts remained. This was the Forum Civile; and beyond this stood the Temple of Jupiter, which they visited without finding anything that was particularly interesting. After this Michael Angelo took thera to a i)lace whicii he said was the Public Bakery. Here they saw millstones, ovens, water-vessels, and some other articles of which they could not guess the use. Not far away were some bakers' shops. In these shops loaves of bread Avere found 1'v the diggers. Of course they were burned to char- coal ; but they retained their original shape, and showed marks upon them which were probably intended to indicate the bakery from which they came. Heaps of corn weie also found. Going down the street where these were situ- ated, they came to one of the gates of the city. Beside this was a niche in the vail, used as a sen- try-box, upon which all the party gazed with a profound interest ; for in that sentry-box those who disentombed the city found a skeleton, in the armor and with the equipment of a Roman soldier. Evidently the sentry had died at his post. They took a good look at the walls hero, which they found to be about twenty-five feet high, and formed of huge stones, that were joinea together without cement. The gates had evidently been double. 206 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. Passing through this gate, they foiind them- selves outside the city, in what Michael Angelo called the " Street of Tombs." Looking down it, they noticed a number of edifices of a monunu'utal character, lining it on either side. These wero the tombs of wealthy citizens. Tiiey visited sev- eral of them, and found them all alike. The inte- riors wero all simple, the walls being pierced with niches, in which were deposited the urns that held the ashes of the dead. This was the first time that they had seen anything of this kind, and they examined it with deep and solemn interest. Here, too, Clive and David succeeded in finding some relics in the shape of some burnt fragments of human bones. After this Michael Angelo led them to what was once the finest mansion of the city, now known as the Villa of Diomede. They entered liere, and wandered through the lialls, and rooms, and court- yards. They saw rich mosaic pavements ; the basins of what once Avero fountains ; the lower parts of marble pillars that once belonged to state- ly colonnades. They saw some rooms that once had been used for cold baths, and others that had been used for ' apor baths. Dining-rooms, recep- tion-rooms, bed-rooms, kitchens, libraries, opened up all around, and told them of that vanished past which had once peopled all these apartments with busy human life. Far more than basilicas, or tem- ples, or streets, or walla, were they affected by SKELETONS. 207 tliiH glimpse into tho homo of a liousehold ; and thoy traversed that deserted homo in eloquent silence. After aoiiie; throujj^h all the house, thoy dosecMidod into tho cellars, Thcso were very spa- cious, !ind extended l)oneath the entire villa. Here, at one end, thoy saw wluit is called the Wine Cellar, ^lany wine jars were standing there — huge earthen vessels, aa large as a liogshead, with wide mouths and round bottoms, which made it impossible lor them to stand erect, unless they wore placed against some support. In these wine jars there was now no wine, however, but only dust and ashes. Here Michael Angelo had much to tell them. He told them that several skeletons had been found in these vaults, belonging to hapless wretches who had, no doubt, fled here to escape the storm of ashes which was raging above. One of these skel- etons had a bunch of keys in its bony fingers ; and this circumstance led some to suppose that it was the skeleton of Diomede himself; but others thought that it belonged to his steward. Whoever he was, he had fled here only to meet his doom, and to leave his bones as a memorial to ages in tho far distant future. Leaving this place, they visited another house, ■which is called tlie Villa of Caius Sallust. At one comer of i.he house they saw something which at once struck them all as being rather singular. It was nothing else than a shop, small in size, fitted 208 AMONT. THE nrilGANDS. up with sliclvos and counters ; a row of jars was fixed on one side, and in the rear were furnaces. Michael Anpelo inibrined them that it had onco been an eatinsi-honse. The hoys thonj^ht it ex- cessively odd that the uccujiants of such a house — people, too, who bore such a name as Sallust — should tolerate such an estahlisliinent ; but there was the undeniable I'act before their eyes. Alter- wards their sur[)rise diminished ; fur in many other houses in Pompeii — they Ibund shops of the same kind, and saw that the ancient Pompeians were not above trade: and tliat, if they did not keep the shops thems^'Ives, they weie at least very Avilling to hire the fronts of their houses to other parties Avho did wish t(j do so. In Sallust's liouse they saw the traces of very elepmt orna- ments, and learned from Michael Angelo that many of the articles discovered here showed that it must onco have been the abode of a luxurious and refined family. The elegant house of the Dioscuri was visited next. It is in the Via del Mercurii, and is a very interesting and oxtensive ruin, and contains some handsome fresco paintings. After this they visited many other houses, a description of which is not necessary ; they were all like the Villa of Diomede, though less interesting ; and among them all there was the same general character. In all these only the lower stories remained, though in a few a small part of the second story was visible. TEMPLKS, TOWERS, AND PALACES. 209 As tlio oliief part of tlio Poinpeian liouso was on tho j:ri'"Uii(l door, the loss of tlio Uf)per story did not inako any parti(Milar dincroricn. Among tlicso they found anotlior teinplo, called tin; Pantheon — a larfj;(! odifico, which showed si;rns of preat former beauty. It was twn hun(hed and tliirty I'eet long, and nearly two hun(h-ed feet wide. An altar is still standing, around wiiich are twelve pedestals, upon which once sto(»(l twelvi; statues. A few houses and temples followed, after which Michael Angelo inforuKMl them that he was about to take them to one of tho greatest curiosities in tiie city. The building to which ho led them was in much bettor preservation than tho majority of tho edi- fices in Pom[)eii, though not nearly so large as many that they had seen. It was about sixty feet wide, and a little longer, being nearly square in shape, and was evidently a temple of some kind. « What is this ? " asked David. " This is the Temple of Isis," said Michael Angelo." " The Temple of Isis ! " exclaimed David, in eager excitement. " Is it, indeed ! " and he looked around with a face full of intense interest. Hitherto, though all the boys had shown much interest, yet David ha,d surpassed them all in his cnthusiasni. This was partly on account of his taste for classical studies, and his love for all connected with classi- cal antiquity, but more especially from the fact that he had very recently read Bulwer's Last U 210 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. Days of Pompeii ; and on tliis occasion that whole story, with all its descriptions and all its incidents, was brought vividly before him by the surround- ing scene. Most of all was the Temple of Isis associated with that storv, and it seemed more familiar to him than anything else that he had found in the city. Glaucus and lone, the Chris- tian Olynthus, and the dark Arbaces seemed to haunt the place. In one of the chambers of this very temple, as Michael Angelo was now telling, — even while leading the way to that chamber, — had been found a huge skeleton, witli an axe beside it ; two walls had been beaten through by that axe, but the desperate fugitive could go no far- ther. In another part of the city had been found another skeleton, carrying a bag of coins and some ornaments of this Temple of Isis. David listened to Michael Angelo's account with strange interest, for it seemed to him as though the fabled charac- ters of Bulwer's story were endowed with actual reality by Michael Angelo's prusaic statements. After inspecting the chamber just mentioned, they were taken to a place where they saw what had once been the pedestal of a statue. Here Michael Angelo showed them a hollow niche, which was so contrived that one might conceal himself there, and speak words which the ignorant and superstitious populace might believe to come from the idol's own stony li})s. This one thing showed the full depth of ancient ignorance and THEATRES AND AMPHITHEATRES. 211 Buperatition ; and over tl)is Michael Angelo waxed quite eloquent, and proceeded to deliver himself of a number of impressive sentences of a highly important character, which he uttered with that fluent volubility peculiar to the whole race of guides, ciceroni, and sjiowraen, in all parts of the world. These moral maxims were part of Michael Angelo's regular routine, and the moment that he found himself here in this Temple of Isi-s, the stream of wisdom would always begin to flow. The next place to which Michael Angelo intend- ed to take them was the ampiiitheatre, which could be seen from where they were standing. All this time David had been more eager than any of the others, and far more profoundly moved. He felt his soul stirred to its inmost depth by the thrilling scenes through which he had been moving. It seemed to him as though there were revealed here to his eyes, in one glance, all that he had been lalxniously acquiring from books by the study of years. But this was better than books. These Koman houses, into which ho could walk, were far b'etter than any number of plans or engraved prints, however accurately done. These temples allorded an insight into the old pagan religion better far than volumes of description. The;;e streets, and shops, and public squares, and wall, and gates, and tombs, all gave him an insight into the departed Roman civilization that was far fresher, and more vivid, and more profound, than 212 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. any that he had ever gained before. It seemed to him that one day was too small for such a place. He must come again and again, he tiiought. He was unwilling to go on with the rest, but lingered longer than any over each spot, and was always the last to quit any place which they visited. They stopped on their way at the Tragic and Comic Theatres, and at length reached the Amphi- theatre itself. This edifice is by far the largest in the city, and is better preserved than any. It is built of large blocks of a dark volcanic stone, and constructed in that massive stylo which the Romans lived, and of which they have left the best examples in these huge amphitheatres. As this Amphitheatre now stands, it might still serve for one of those displays for which it was built. Tier after tier those seats arise, which once had accom- modations for fifteen or twenty thousand human beings. On these, it is said, the Pompeians wero seated when that awful volcanic storm burst forth by which tiie city was mined. Down from these seats they fled in wildest disorder, all panic-stricken, rushing down the steps, and crowding through the doorways, trampling one another under foot, in that mad race for life ; while overhead the storm gath- ered darker and darker, and the showers of ashes fell, and the suffocating sulpliuric vapors arose, and amid the volcanic storm the lightnings of the sky flashed forth, illuminating all the surrounding gloom with a liorrid lustre, and blending with the THEATRES AND AMPHITHEATRES. 213 subterranean rumblings of the earthquake the thunder of the upper air. From this cause the Amphitheatre !nay be con- sidered the central spot of interest in Pompeii. What little has been told of the fate of the city gathers around this place, and to him who sits upon those seats there is a more vivid realization of that awful scene than can be obtained any- where else. On reaching the Amphitheatre they seated them- selves on the stone steps, about half way up the circle of seats, and each one gave way to the feel- ings that filled him. They had walked now for hours, and all of them felt somewhat wearied, so that the rest on these seats was grateful. Here they sat and rested. 214 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. CHAPTER XIX. Lofty classical enthusiasm of Daviil^ and painful Lack of feeling on the Part of Frank. — David, red hot with the Flow of the Past, is suddenly confronted with the Present. — The Present dashes Cold Water upon his glowing F.n- thusiasm. — The Gates. — Mijios, ^Eacus, and Rhada- f nan thus. — The Culprits. S they thus rested on the scats of the Amphitlieatre, the classical enthusiasm of David rose superior to fatigue, and his enthusiastic feelings burst forth without restraint, in a long and somewhat incoherent rhapsody about the iiill of Pompeii. Full beibre them, as they sat, rose Vesuvius; and they saw that which helped them to reproduce the past more vividly, for even now the dense, dark cloud of the volcano was gathering, and the thick smoke-volumes were roll- ing forth from the crater. Far into the heavens the smoke clouds arose, ascending in a dark pillar till they reached the uj)per strata of the atmos- phere, where they unfolded themselves, and spread out afar — to the east, and the west, and the north, and the south. Some such appearan(n! as this the mountiiin may have had, as it towered gloomily before the Pompeians on that day of days. Some ENTHUSIASM OF DAVID, 215 such scene as this may have appeared, only deep- ened into terrors a thousand fold more gloomy, to the population of the doomed city, as they gath- ered here on these seats for the last time. Such were the ideas of David Clark; and these ideas he poured forth in a long rhapsody, full of wild enthusiasm. At length, however, that enthu- siasm flagged, and ho was compelled to stop for want of breath. " 0, that's all very fine," slid Frank, suddenly, as David stopped, and breaking the silence whicli had ibllowed his eloquent outburst, — "that's all very fine, of course. You have a habit, David, my son, of going into raptures over old bones and old stones, but alter all, I'd just like to ask you one question." •' What's that? " asked David, a little sharply. " Why, this. Has this place, after all, come up to your ideii?" And Frank looked at him with very anxious eyes. " This place ? " said David. " Wiiat, Fompeii ? Come up to my idea? Why, of course it has. What makes you ask such a question as that? I never spent such a day in all my life." '•■ Well, for my part," said Frank, in a very can- did tone, " FU be honest. I confess Fm disap- pointeil." And saying this, Frank shook his head defiantly, and looked at all the other boys, with the air of one who was ready and willing to maintain his position. 216 AMONG THE BRKiAXDS. " Disappointed ! " exclaimed David, in an inde- scribable tone, in which reproach, astonishment, and disgust were all blended together. "Yes," said Frank, firmly, "disappointed — ut- terly, completely, and tee-totally. I'll tell you what my idea was. My idea was, that the streets would be streets, in the first place. Well, they're not streets at all. They're mere lanes. They're nothing more than foot-paths. Secondly, my idea was, that the houses would be houses. Well, they're not. They're old ruins ; heaps of dust and bricks — " "Nonsense!" interrupted David, in indignant tones. "How could the houses be standing after being buried for so many centuries? You iurget what a tremendous weight of ashes, iuid stones, and earth, lay upon their roofs. Houses ! Why, did you expect to find couches to lie on? or chairs < — " " Well," said Frank, " my quarrel with Pompeii doesn't end here. For, you see, evi-n if the houses were whole and uninjured, what would they be? Poor affairs enough. Just think how small they are. Rooms ten by twelve. Nari-ow passage-ways for halls, that'll scarcely allow two peof)le to pass each other. The rooms are closets. The ceilings were all low. And then look at the tem))les. I expected to find stone walls and marble columns. But what have I found? Nothing but shams — pillars built of bricks, and plastered over to re- DTSAl'POINTMKNT OF FRANK. 217 scmble marhlo. Do you call that the right style of thing? Why, at home we sneer at lath-and- plaster Gothic. Why should we admire lath-and- plaster Greek because it's in Pompeii? Then, again, look at the Forums — miserable little places that'll only hold about fifty people," "Pooh!" said David; "as if they didn't know what was largo enough ! " " I don't doubt that they knew it," said Frank. " But what I say is, tiiat if these were large enough for them, what a poor lot they must have been ! " " Alter all," said David, " Pompeii was not a great city. It was only a small city. You expect to find here the magnificence of Rome." " No, 1 don't. 1 merely expect to find some- thing that'll carry out the promise of those pic- tures that they make of scenes in Pompeii. Why, there isn't anything in the whole town, except, perhaps, this place, tiuit k)oks largo enough for an ordinary [)erson to move about in. Look at the walls — miserable things twenty feet high. Look at the streets — only wide iMiough lor a single cart. Li)ok at the sidewalks — only wide enough for a single man. The only thing in the whole town that comes up to my idea is the Amphitheatre. This is respectable. It corresponds with the pic- tures, and the descriptions of travellers. But as to all the rest, I have only to remark that they are, first, mean ; secondly, small ; and thirdly, in out- rageously bad taste." 218 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. Frank ceaaod, and looked steadfastly at David. David looked at Frank, but his feelings were too strong for utterance. His indignation at this desecration of a place that was so hallowed in his eyes could not be expressed. ITe turned his face away in silent scorn, and fixed his gaze on Vesuvius. They waited a long time, and when at length they prepared to leave Pompeii, it was late in the day. All the other visitors had left long before, and they were the last in the city. They walked along looking round them till the last, and at length reached the entrance. ^lichaol Angelo went off to get the carriage. They waited a little while to take a last look, and then passed through the gate. Here they found themselves confronted by three officials, the custodians of the place. One of these addressed them in very fair English. " Messieurs," said he, " before you leave, I haf to inquire — Deed you take anyting out from Pompeii? " " Take anything? " said Uncle Moses, in an indignant voice. " What do you mean ? " " A tousand pardons, sare, " said the other, po- litely. " It ees a formaletee. I mean de leetlo stones, de pieces of stock, v/ood, plastair. Ha ! De reliques, do souvenirs." He was rather an unpleasant looking man, with a very sallow iace, high cheek-bones, and a heavy RELICS FROM THE BURIED CITY. 219 goatee on the tip of his chin, which waj^ged up and down as ho talked in quite a wonderi'ul way. " Stones, sticks, phister ? " said Undo Moses. " Course not." The ofiicial looked intently at him, and thou at the boys. Alter this ho conversed with his com- panion in Italian. These companions were quite as unprepossessing in their appearance as himself. Then the first speaker turned to the boys. " You, sare," said he to Frank, in rather an un- pleasant tone, " haf you do stones or do bones ? " '' Not a stone, not a bone," said Frank, smilingly. " I did take a few at first, but I pitched them away." " And you, sare ? " said he to Bob. " Don't deal in such articles," said Bob, with a grin — not in my line — not my style." " Pardon," said the ofiicial, with a sickly smile, " but I must put do usual interrogatoree. You, sare?" and ho addressed himself to David. David turned pale. He hesitated for a moinent. " Well," said he, " I believe I have got a few little stones, just two or three, you know ; little relics, you know." " Ah ! ver good, ver nais," said the ofiicial, with the sunshine of perfect content illuminating his sallow features. " And you, sare ? " he continued, turning to Clive. " Well, yes," said Clive, " I've got a few, I 220 AMONfi THE BRTOANPS. believe ; but they really don't amount to anything in particular." " 0, no, not at all," said the Italian ; " dey don't amount to notin ; but look you, de govaircment liaf made de law dat no pairson will take no stone, nor steek, nor relique, nor bone, nor sou- venir, Irom Pompeii, You mus goei'dem all oop." "Why? They're only two or three," pleaded David, in a heart-broken voice. '' So, dat is cct. Look you. Eet ees de law. 0, yais. I cannot help. Everybody will take two or tree. Very well. Ten tousand, twenty tou- sand, hundred tousand come here every year, and all take away hundred tousand pocket full. Ah, lia ! See you? What den ? Why, den all Pompeii be carried away. Aha ! dat great shame. Too bad, hey? ha? You ondstand. So you sail gif dem all oop into my hand." David and Clive remonstrated most vehemently, but the olHcial was olidurate. He pleaded the law. He insisted on the lull restoration of everything. So the two lads began to disgorge, with the following result : — 1 piece of brick from the Sidewalk. 1 bit of stone, Street. 1 stucco. Basilica. 1 do. Temple Venus. 1 do. Forum. 1 do. Temple Jupiter. 1!KI,I(S ritOM THK HITIMKD CITY. 221 bit of stone from do. do. do. do. do. do. bone, do. package dust, do. do. pebble, do. bit of plaster, do. do. brick, do. stone, do. the Public Bakory. Sentry box. Wall. Gateway. Street Tombs. Villa Diomede. du. Sepulchre. do. do. Villa Sallust. do. Eating House. House ot" Dioscuri. Pantheon. Temph,' Mercury. do. I sis. Tragic Theatre. Comic Theatre. Amphitheatre, do. The above is by no means a complete inventory of the articles produced by Clive and David, but will serve to give an idea of the nature of that heap which was spread upon the table before the stern officials. One by one they were turned out from the well-filled pockets of David and Clive. Slowly and reluctantly the two boys turned out those precious treasures. Sadly and mournfully 222 AMONG THE imTGAXPS, tlioy laid them on tl)o taldc, uiulur tlio Btcrn, tlio indexibU^, the roluntless j^a/o of tlio three inex- orable custodians, who, to David's mind, seemed the impersonations of Alinos, yEacus, and Hhada- ith all thi d fi ny more, — nients from houses, hits ol' mosaic stone, littlo chips, — all were seized, and all wcro conliseatod. Xot a Word was spoken. It was a sorrow too strong for words ; and Minos, vEaeus, and Hluida- manthus stood, individually and collective!}-, in- flexible and inexorable. The ruel'ul counte- nances of the two culprits excited the sympathy and pity of their ce)inpanions ; but it seemed a case where no help covdd avail them. Frank and Hob looked upon the scene with a strong desiie to interfere in some way, and Uncle Moses looked quite as distressed as either David or Clivo. Suddenly a new actor entered upon the scene. It was ^lichael An!;-elo. He came in wi h a f[uick step, started as ho noticed the sadness on the faces of his party, and then threw a rapid glance around. Out; glance was suflicient to show plainly enough what had hapi)en{;d. He saw the table covered with tho stones and bones already descrijjcd. He saw tho heart-broken expression that was stamped upon the faces of David and Clive as they gazed u|»ou their parting treasures. He saw the attitude and the expression of Uncle Moses, and Frank, and Bob, as they watched their friends. I THK JUDOKS COXCILIATLD. 223 That, ono ghirice not only expliiinod all to Mic'liacil An<^ol(), but suj,'gejitc«l to liiin ii course of Conduct upon which lie instantly proceeded to act. He stepped up to the Hide of Riiadanianthus, and accostiiifif hlin in Italian; he sj>oke a lew words in a low voice. What he said was, of course, unin- telli!>il)le to the bov.s. After these few words, Michael Anpjelo then slipj)ed something into the Land of the inexorable one. Then iio turnefl to the despairing boys. " It's all right," said Michael Angelo, cheerily. " I haf explained. You may keep dc tings." David and (^livc looked up, and stared at Michael Angelo in wonder, not fully compreh(Uiding him. " It's all right," said Michael Angelo. " Doy onderstand. I haf explained. You put dem back into your pocket. You sail keep de tings. It's all light. Dey are yours now. It's all r-r-r-r-right. All r-r-r-r-right, I say." David and ('live still hesitated, and looked at Kliadaniantlius, Kliadamanthus gazed benignantly at them, smiled a gracious smile, and waved his hands with the air of a judge dismissing a case. " All r-r-right," said Kliadamanthus ; " he haf ex- plained." This language was somewhat unintelligible. What there was to be explained they could not imagine. If the law prohibited the carrying off of relics from Pompeii, no amount y^i " explanation " 224 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. could give them a claim to their unlawful posses- sions. But neither David nor Clive was at all inclined to hesitate about the legality of their pos- sessions, or to make any inquiries about the nature of the explanation which had been made by Michael Angelo. It was joy enough for them to know that the dilliculty was over, and that the relics were theirs once more. So the pile of relics went back from that table into the pockets of David and Clive with a rapidity that is inconceivable. Away from their faces passed that heart-broken expression which had been upon them ; the shadows passed away from their brows, the sunshine of joy and exulta^ tion overspread them, and they looked at Michael Angelo in silent gratitude. A few minutes more and they were in the carriage. Then David asked Michael Angelo how it was that he had changed the stern resolve of the in- exorable Rhadamantlius into such easy, gracious, and good-tempered indulgence. Michael Angelo laughed. " 1 gif him," said he, "just one half dollar. Dat was what he wanted all de time. Aftaire dees you know what to do. All r-r-right. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha I " And Michael Angelo burst into a peal of laughter. Upon this Uncle Moses began to moralize about 'I TO NAPLES AGAIN. 225 the corrupt morals of the Italian race, and went on to speak of tyranny, priestcraft, slavery, aristoc- racy, monarchy, primogeniture, brigandage, and ten thousand other things. And the carriage rolled back to Naples. 15 226 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. CHAPTER XX. The Glories of Naples. — The Museum. — The Curt. f^ is. — How they unroll the charred Manuscripts exhuircd from Herculaneum and Pompeii. — On to Rome. — Capua. — TJie Tomb of Cicero. — Terracina. — The 'Pontine Marshes. — The Appii Forum. j^>(^^|HE party remained in Naples some time f longer, and had much to see. There was the Royal Museum, filled with the treasures of antique art, filled also with what was to them far more interesting — the numerous articles ex- humed from Herculaneum and Pompeii. Here were jewels, ornaments, pictures, statues, carvings, kitchen utensils, weights, measures, toilet reciui- sites, surgical instruments, arms, armor, tripods, braziers, and a thousand otiier articles, the ac- comi)animents of that husy life which had been so abruptly stopped. All these articles spoke of some- thing connected with an extinct civilization, and told, too, of human life, with all its hopes, fears, joys, and sorrows. Some spoke of disease and ])ain, others of festivity and joy; these of peace, those of war ; iiere were the emblems of religion, there the symbols of literature. HERCULANEAN AND POMPKIAN MANUSCRIPTS. 227 i Among all these, nothing was more interesting than the manuscript scrolls which had been found in the libraries of the better houses. These looked like anything rather than manuscripts. They had all been burned to a cinder, and looked like sticks of charcoal. But on the first discovery of these they had been carefully preserved, and efforts had been made to unroll them. These efforts at first were baffled ; but at last, by patience, and also by skill, a method was found out by which the thing might be done. The manuscripts were formed of Egyptian papyrus — a substance which, in its ori- ginal condition, is about as fragile as our modern paper ; the sheets were rolled around a stick, and were not over eight inches in width, and about six- teen feet in length. The stick, the ornaments, and the cases had perished, but the papyrus remained. Its nature was about the same as the nature of a scroll of pa{)er manuscript would be after passing through the fire. Each thin filament, as it was un- rolled, would ^u'urable into dust. Now, this crumbling was arrested by putting over it a coating of tough, gelatinous substance, over which a sheet of muslin Avas placed, the gelatinous substance acting also upon the charred sheet in such a way as to detach it from the rest of the scroll. In this way it was unrolled slowly and carefully, two inciies at a time, and on being unrolled a fac-simile copy was at once made. Of course there was no attempt to preserve the manuscripts; they wore too perishable; 228 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. and after a short exposure, just long enough to admit of a copy being made, they shrank up and crumbled away. There were other places of attraction in this . lutiful city — the Villa Realo, the chosen prom- \ :ade of the Neapolitans, which stretches along the shore, tilled with trees, and shrubbery, and winding paths, and flower-beds, and vuses, and statues, and sculptures, and ponds, and fountains, and pavilions. There was tbv Castle of St. Elmo, with its frowning walls ; the Cathedral of San Francisco, with its lofty dome and sweeping colon- nades ; and very many other churches, together with palaces and monuments. But at last all this came to an end, and they left Naples for Rome. They had a carriuge to them- selves, which they had hired for the journey, and the weather was delightful. The road was smooth and pleasant, the country was one of the fairest on earth, and as they rolled along they all gave them- selves up to the joy of the occasion. They passed through a region every foot of which was classic ground. Along their way they encountoi-ed amphi- theatres, aqueducts, tombs, and other monuments of the past, some in ruins, others still erect in stately though melancholy grandeur. Capua in- vited them to tarry — not the ancient Capua, but the modern, which, though several miles distant from the historic city, has yet a history of its own, and its own charms. But among all these scenes TERRACINA. 229 and sights which tliey encountered, the one that impressed them most was Cicero's tomb. It is built on the spot wliere ho was assassinated, of im- mense stones, joined witliout cement. In shape it is square, but the interior is circular, and a single column rises to the vaulted roof. Of course what- ever contents there may have been have long since been scattered to the winds ; no memorial of the great orator and patriotic statesman is visible now ; but the name of Cicero threw a charm about the place, and it seemed as though they were drawn nearer to the past. The boys expressed their feel- ings in various ways, and David, who was most alive to the power of classical associations, de- livered, verbatim, about one half of the first ora- tion of Cicero against Catiline. lie would have delivered the whole of it, and more also, beyond a doubt, had not Frank put a sudden stop to his flow of eloquence by pressing his hand against David's mouth, and threatening to gag him if he didn't " stop it." On the afternoon of the second day they arrived at Terracina. This town is situated on the sea- shore, with the blue Mediterranean in front, stretch- ing far away to the hori/on. Far out into the sea runs the promontory of Circ;eum, — familiar to the boys from their studies in Homer and Virgil, — while over the water the white sails of swift- moving vessels passed to and fro. The waves broke on the strand, lishing-boats were drawn up 230 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. on the beach, and there were wonderful briskness and animation in tlie scene. Terracina, like all other towns in this country, has remains of antiquity to show. Its Cathedral is built from the material of a iieathen temple, probably that of Apollo, which was once a mag- nificent edifice, but is now in ruins. But it was the modern beauty of the town, rather than this or any other of its antiquities, that most attracted the boys — the sea-beach, where the waters of the Mediterranean rippled aud plashed over the pebbles ; the groves and vineyards, that extended all around : the wooded hills ; the orange treea and the palm, the thorny cactus and the aloe ; and above all, the deep, azure sky, and the clear, trans- parent atmosphere. To the intoxication of all this surrounding beauty they gave themselves up, and wandered, and scranililed, and raced, and chased one another about the slumberous town. They slept soundly that night, lulled to rest by the long roll of the Mediterranean waters, as they dashed upon the beach, and on the following morn- ing resumed their journey. The road now passed through the Pontine Marslies, and they all entered upon this part of their journey with strong feel- ings of curiosity. The district which goes by the name of tiie Pontine Marshes is one of the most famous places in Europe. It is about forty-five miles long, and varies in breadth from lour to eleven miles. The PONTINE MAUSHRS, 231 origin of tliose mnrslies is not known. In the early ages of the republic of Rome numerous cities are mentioned as existing here. But all these gradually became depopulated ; and now not a vestige remains of anv one of them. From a very remote period numerous efforts were put forth to reclaim these lands. When the famous Appian Way was constructed through them, they Avere partially drained. Afterwards a canal was formed, which ran by the road-side ; and of this canal Horace speaks in the well-known account of his journey to Brundusium. Julius Ctesar intend- ed, among other great works, to enter upon the task of reclaiming them ; but his deatii prevented it. Under various successive emperors, the at- tempt was made, and continued, until at last, in the reign of Trajan, nearly all the district was recovered. Afterwards it fell to ruin, and the waters flowed in once more. Then they remained neglected for ages, down to modern times. Vari- ous popes attempted to restore them, but without Biiccess, until at last Pope Pius V^l. achieved the accomplishment of the mighty task in the year 1788, ever since which time the district has been under cultivation. The road was a magnificent one, having been built on the foundations of the ancient Appian Way. It was lined on each side with trees, and was broad and well paved. It is considered one of the finest in Europe. Along this they rolled, 232 AMOXr, THE HRIGANDS. the blue sky above thom, on the right hand the mountains, on the left the sea. The air was damp and chill ; but at first they did not feel it particu- larly, though Uncle Moses complained of " rheu- matics," and took precautionary measures against his insidious enemy by wrapping himself up warm- ly. As they went on they saw crowds of peasants coming to work in the fields. These peasants lived in the hill country on the right, and had to walk a great distance to get to their place of labor, — for to live on tiie marshes was impossible. Men, women, and even children were there ; and their pale, sickly faces and haggard looks sliowed how deadly were the effects of the noxious exhalations from this marshy soil. At abont midday they I'eaohed an inn, which stood about half way over the marshes, by the road-side. David speculated much as to whether this place might or might not be the Forum Appii mentioned in the book of Acts as a stopping-placo of St. Paul on his way to Rome ; but the others were too hungry to take any interest whatever in the question. They remained here nearly two hours, got something to eat, and then resumed their journey. PONTINE MARSHES. 233 CHAPTER XXI. The Pontine Marshes. — A Change comes over the Party. — The foul Exhalations. — Tiic Sleep of Death. — Dread- ful Accident. — Despair of Frank. — A Break-down. — Ingenuity of the Driver. — Resumption of the fourney. ^(^^OR the first half of the day the boys jrg3 been in great spirits. Laughter, i s had noisy tl^" conversation, jests, chaff, and nproarions songs had all been intermingled, and the carriage was a miniature Bedlam. But after their stoppage at the wayside inn a change took place, and on resuming their journey, they seemed like a very different company. The air of the marshes now began to act upon them. They felt it to be raw, and chill, and unpleasant. A general feeling of discomfort and a general sensation of gloom per- vaded all of them. Bob held out most bravely, and strove to regain the jollity which they had felt before. For a long time his fun and nonsense provoked a laugh ; but at lengtli his fun grew fainter, and his nonsense more stupid ; and the laughter grew less hearty and more forced, until at length the fun, and the nonsense, and the laugh- ter ceased nltogether. 234 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. Frank felt upon himself the ref^ponsibility of the rest to an unusual degree. He was only a few weeks older than David, l)ut he was far stronger and more mature in many respects. David was a hard student, and perhaps a bit of a book-worm, and had a larger share of the knowledge that may be gained from books ; but Frank had seen more of the world, and in all that relates to the practi- cal affairs of common life he was immeasurably superior to David. For this reason Frank often assumed, and very naturally too, the guardianship of the party ; and so appropriate was this to him, that the rest tacitly allowed it. As for Uncle Moses, 'lonc of them ever regarded him as their protector, but rather as an innocent and simple- hearted being, who himself required protection from them. Frank, therefore, on this occasion, kept warning the whole party, above all things, not to let them- selves go to sleep. He had heard that the air of the Pontine Marshes had a peculiar tendency to Bend one to sleep ; and if one should yield to this, the consequences might be fatal. Fever, he said, would be sure to follow sleep that might be in- dulged in under such circumstances. Tiie anxi- ety which was created in his own mind by his sense of responsibility was of itself sufficient to keep him awake, and left him to devote all his energies to the task of trying to keep the others awake also, and thus save them from the impend- ing danger. ■i A CIIANOK COMKS OVKR THR PARTY. 235 At first they all lauglied at him ; hut alter a time, as each one felt the drowsiness coming over him, they ceased to laugh. Then they tried to sing. They ke|)t np this for some time. Tiiey exhausted all their st(jck of school songs, nigger songs, pat^riotic songs, songs sentimental and mor- al, and finally tried even hymns. But the singing was not a very striking success ; there was a lack of spirit in it ; and under this depressing sense of languor, the voice of music at last died out. Singularly enough, the one who felt this drow- siness most strongly was Bob. Frank had not thought of him as being at all likely to fall asleep ; but whether it was that his mobile temperament made him more liable to extremes of excitement and dullness, or whether the reaction from his Ibrmer joviality and noisiness had lieen greater than that of the rest, certain it is that Bob it was who first showed signs of sleep. His eyes closed, his head nodded, and lifting it again with a start, he blinked around. '' Come, Bob," said Frank, " this won't do. You don't mean to say that you're sleepy." Bob said nothing. He rubbed his eyes, uid yawned. " Bob," said Frank, " take care of yourself." "0, I'm all right," said Bob, with a drawl; " never fear about me. I'm wide awake." Scarce had he finished this when his eyes closed again, and his head fell forward. 236 A MONO THE nUK.'ANDS. Frank shook liim, and IJoh raised himself up with an ellort at dignified surprise, which was, however, a I'ailure. " You needn't shake a fellow," he said in a hus- ky, sleepy voice. " r»iit 1 will shako you," cried Frank. " Le' — me — 'k)ne," said Bob, in a half whisper, nodding again. " Here," cried Frank ; '• this'll never do. Bob ! Bol) ! wake up ! Bob ! Boo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-f ! Wa-a-a-a-a-a-a-ake u-u-u-u up ! " But Bob wouldn't wake up. On the contrary, he bobbed his head in a I'oolish and imbecile way towards Frank, as though seeking unconsciously to find a place on which to rest it. I>ut Frank wouldn't allow anything of the sort. lie made Jjob sit erect, and held him in this way for some time, bawliiig, yelling, and occasionally shaking him. David and Clivc were a little rt)used by this, and surveyed it with sleepy eyes. Uncle Moses, Imw- ever, Avas as wide awake as ever — he had his usual anxiety about the well-being of the boys, and this made sleep out of the question. He now joined his entreaties to tliose of Frank; and the two, uniting their shouts, succeeded in making considerable uproar. Still Bob woidd not wake. " I'll make him get out and walk," said Frank. " This'll never do. If ho sleeps here, he may never wake again." THE SLKEP OF DEATH. 237 Saying this, Frank turned to open tho carriugo floor to call to the driver. As ho did so, ho loosed his hohl of iioh, wlio, being no longer stayed up on that side, fell over on Frank's lap with his face downward. Upon tiiis, Frank turned back, and determined to lift IJob up again. Shaking him as hard as ho could, ho yelled in his ears and shouted to him to ge* up. Now Bob was asleep, yet in his bleep he had a kind of under consciousness of what was going on. Ho was stupidly conscious that they were trying to raise him up to an uncomfortable sitting posture — a bolt-upright position. This he was sleepily unwilling to submit to. There wasn't any particular strength in his hands, and his drowsy faculties didn't extend fiirther down than his head. He felt himself lying on something, and to prevent them from raising him from it, ho seized it in his teeth. " Bo-o-o-ob ! Bo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-b ! " yelled Frank. " W-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ako u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-p ! " But Bob wouldn't. He only held on the tighter with his teeth. Upon this, Frank seized him with all his strength, and gave Bob a sudden jerk upward, when — C-r-r-r-r-i-k-k-k-k ! — A sharp, rip|)ing sound was heard, and as Bob's head was pulled up, a long, narrow piece of cloth was exhibited, hanging down from his mouth, and held in his teeth. 238 AMONG THE BRIOANDS. Frank looked at it in dismay, and then looked down. He gave a cry of vexation. Bob had seized Frank's trousers in his teeth, and as he was pulled up, he held on tight. Conse- quently the cloth gave way, and there was poor Frank, reduced to rags and tatters, and utterly unpresentable in any decent society. lie gave up Bob in despair, and began to in- vestigate the extent of the ruin that had been wrought in his trousers. It was a bad rent, an irretrievable one, in fact ; and all that he could do was to tie his handkerchief around his leg. Bob now slept heavily, held up by Uncle Moses. The other boys grew drowsier and drowsier. Frank was just deciding to get out of the carriage and make them ail walk for a time, when a sud- den event occurred which brought a solution to the problem. It was a sudden crash. Down sank the carriage under them, and away it Avent, toppling over on one side. A cry of terror escaped all of them. Every one started up, and each one gras])ed his neigiibor. There was something in this sudden shock so dreadful and so startling, that it broke through even the drowsiness and heavy stupor of Bob, and penetrated to his slumbering faculties, nnd in an instant roused them all. With a wild yell he flung his arras round Uncle Moses. Uncle Moses fell A brp:ak-do\vn. 239 backward, and all the others were flung upon hira. They all lay thus lieaped upon the side of the coach, a struggling mass of humanity. Frank was the first I > come to himself, and regain his presence of mind. " All right," said he, in a cheerful voice. " We haven't gone over quite. The horses have stopped. All right." A groan came from below the pile of humanity. " Get off', get off ! " exclaimed Bob's voice. " You're smotliering Uncle Moses." Frank, who was U{)permost, disengaged himself, and helped oiF the others ; and linally Bob scrambled away, giving every indication by this time that he was at last perfectly wide awake. This restored Uncle Moses. He was able to take a long breath. By this time Frank had torn open the carriage door, and jumped down. The others followed. lie saw the driver holding the horses. The carriage was tilted over. One of the hind wheels lay underneath, a shattc'ed wreck. Now all was bustle and confusion. The driver proceeded to [ t into execution a plan l)y which they could p > forward, at least far enough to traverse the marshes. The boys all helped, and their efforts drove away the last vestige of drowsiness. The plan eonsistecl in taking out the tongue of the wagon, biniling it upon the fore axle, and 240 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. letting its other end drag on the ground. Now, as the tongue sloped down, the hind axle rested upon it, and thus the trailing wood served to keep the coach erect, and to act as a runner, which supplied very well the place of the lost wheel. The horses were then hitched on by the traces, without any tongue, and in this way they pulled along the broken carriage. THE MARCH ENDED. 241 CHAPTER XXII. The March eudcd. — A lonely Inn. — Evil Faces. — Beetling Brows. — Sinister Glances. — Suspicious of the Party. — They put their Heads together. — Conferences of the Party. — A threatening Prospect. — Barricades. — In Time of Peace prepare for War. — The Garrison arm themselves. /A\ FTER completing their arrangements they -T^jVj resumed their journey : but this time 4/*^ they all went on ^ t. Avith the exception of Uncle Moses. They went on fnot for two rea- sons: first, because it was impossible for the Ijorses to pull thorn all when one of the wIr'cIs was gone, nince it was as much as they could do iu maintain a walking pace even with the empty carriage ; and the other reason was, that by walking they would 1)0 better able to fight off the drowsiness which had menaced them. In truth, as far as drowsiness is concerned, there did not now seem to bo any ])articular danger; for the shock of the break-dowr had been sufficient to rouse even Bob, and the effects of that shock still remained. Uncle Closes, however, on account of his years, his infirmities, and his tendency to " rheumatics," together with IG 242 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. his freedom from drowsiness, was installed in the carrian;o, with all due honors, as its solo occupant. Walking; on thus, they did not regret, in the slightest degree, the hardships of their lot, hut rather exulted in them, since they had been the means of rousing them out of their almost uncon- querable tendency to sleep. Frank felt the high- est possible relief, since he Avas now freed from the responsibility that had of late been so heavy. In Bol), however, there was the exhibition of the greatest liveliness. Bub, mercurial, volatile, non- sensical, mobile, was ever running to extremes; and as he was the first to f dl asleep, so now, when he had awaked, he was the most wide awake of all. He sang, hn shouted, he laughed, he danced, he ran ; he seemed, in fact, overflowing with animal spirits. Fortunately they were not very far from the end of the marshes when the wheel broke, and in less than two hours they had traversed the re- mainder. Tilt driver could speak a little English, and informed them that they could not reach the destination which he had proposed; but he hoped before dark to get as far as an inn, where they could obtain food and lodging. He informed them that it was not a very good inn ; but under the circumstances it was the best that they could hope for. To the boys, however, it madci very little difference what son of an inn they came to. As long as they could get something to eat, and A LONELY INN. 243 any kind of a bed to lie on, they were content ; and 80 they told the driver. Leaving the marshes, the road began to ascend; and after about a iialf hour's farther tramp, they came to a place which the driver informed them was the inn. It was by no means an inviting place. It was an old stone edifice, two stories high, which had once been covered with stucco ; but the stucco had fallen off in most places, disclosing the rough stones underneath, and giving it an air of dilapida- tion and squalor. The front was by the road-side. A door opened in tiie middle, on each side of which was a small, dismal window. In the second story were two other small, dismal windows. At the end they saw a window on each story, and a third in the attic. These were all small and dis- mal. Some of them had sashes and glass ; others had sashes without glass ; while others had no sashes at all. A group of men were outside the house, all of whom stared hard at the carriage as it drew near. There was something in the aspect of these men which was indescribably repulsive to tho boys : their dirty, swarthy faces, covered with shaggy, jet-black beards ; their bushy eyebrows, from beneath which their black eyes glowed liko balls of fire ; their hats slouclied down over their brows ; their lounging attitudes, and their furtive glances; all these combined to give thorn an 5- perato men wore just above them. They wore there overhead. The hatchway was open. Tlirough tliat opening they couhl drop down one by one. The same thought came to all of them, and with one common impulse they moved softly to where the step-ladder lay on the floor. Frank made this movement first ; the others followed. They stood ranged along the step-ladder. First, Frank, with his knife. Second, IJob, with his chair. Third, Clive, with his chair. Fourth, David, with his knife. Fifth, Uncle Moses, with his razor. Every one held his weapon in a grasp which the excitement of the moment had rendered con- vulsive. Every eye was fixed upon tho hatch- way above, which lay concealed in the gloom. Overhead they heard whispering, but no move- ment whatever. " Lot's jump out of the windows and run," whispered Bob, hurriedly. " No," said Frank, " they are watching below — no use." But further remarks were prevented by the sud- den glimmer of a light above. It was a light in tho attic, not very bright, yet sufficiently so to show the opening through which their enemies were about to come. INCRi:ASiNO ALARM. 2G5 Tlie brigands had lighted a lamp 1 The exciteincint grew Ktrongor. Voices arose, low and hushed. Then footsteps ! Tlie light above the opening grow brighter! It was an awful moment ! The suspense was terrible ! Yet in the midst of that suspense they had no tliought of surrender. In fact, they did not think tliat surrender would be possible. These bloody- minded miscreants would show no quarter; and tlie besieged party felt the task imposed upon tliem of selling their lives as dearly as possible. And so it was, that as the brigands came nearer to the opening, — Frank grasped his knife more firmly. Bob do. " chair do. David do. " knife do. Clivo do. " chair do. While Uncle Moses held up his razor in such a way, that the first brigand who descended should fall full upon its keen edge. The light grew brighter over the opening. The shuffling footsteps drew nearer. Then there was a pause, and low whispers arose. The brigands were immediately above them. The light shone down into the room. The suspense was now intolerable. It was Frank who broke the silence. " W7to^s there ? " he cried in a loud, strong, stern, 266 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. menacing voice, in which th' re was not the sh'ght- est tremor. At this the whispering above ceased. Every- thing was perfectly stilL " Who's there ? "' cried Frank a second time, in a louder, stronger, sterner, and more menacing voice. No answer. All was still. What did it mean ? "WHO'S THERE?" cried Frank a third time, in the loudest, strongest, sternest, and most men- acing tone that lie could compass, " SPEAK, OR I'LL FIRE !'.!!!!!!!! " This tremendous threat could not have been carried out, of course, with the knives, chairs, and razor of the party below ; but at any rate it brought a reply. "Alia raight! " cried a voice. " (), yais. It's cnalee me. Alia safe. Come uj) here to get some sti'aps for de vettura. Alia raight. I haf jcdsta come hack from Velletre. Ilaf brot de ddt'i- vet- tura. Scusa de interruption, but haf to get de straps; dey up here. Alia raighc ! '' It was the voice of their driver ! At the first sctuiid o{' tiiat vniee (here was an instantaneuus and imineiiso revnlsiun ol teeling. Tlie dark terror ol' a iiKimeiit hefnre was suddenly transtbrmcMl to an alisuidity. They had been mak- ing fools of themselves. They lelt tiiis vt^ry ki'cn- ly. The chairs were put (piietly upon the floor; hy . ■■ tl I t c S tc r( n m tl b i V F !}■ fo fo ar END OF TROUBLES. 267 the knives were pocketed very stealthily; and Uncle Moses' razor was slipped hurriedly into the breast pocket of" his coat. " ! " said Frank, trying to speak in an easy, careless, matter-of-fact tone. " We didn't know. Shall we leave in the morning? " " 0, yais. Alia r-r-raight," said the driver. Soon after the party descended the ladder, and took it away. The hoys and Uncle Moses made no remark whatever. They all crept silently, and rather sheepishly, back to their beds, feeling very much ashamed of themselves. And yet there was no reason for shame, for to them the danger seemed real ; and believing it to be real, they had not shrunk, but had faced it with very commendable pluck. This was the end of their troubles on the road. For the remainder of that night they slept sound- ly. In the morning they awaked refreshed, and found a good breakfast waiting for them. They found also another carriage, in which they entered and resumed their journey. 268 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. CHAPTER XXIV. A beautiful Country. — Magnificent Scenery. — The Ap- proach to Albano. — Enthusiasm of the Boys. — Arche- ology iiersus Appetite. — The Separation of the Buys. — The Story of the Alban Lake and the ancient subter- ranean Channel. /(i^ S thoy rolled along the road on tliis last £> ^1^ Htago of their eventful joiirnev, they wore 4- "^ ^^^ ''^ ^'■'^ highest sj)irit!s. On to Home! was the watchword. It was a glorious day: the sun ehono brightly from a cloudless sky ; the air was pure, and brilliant, and genial, and it also had such a wonderful transparency tliat distant objects seemed much nearer from the distinctness with which their outlines wore reveahid. The road was a magnincent one, — l)road, well paved, well grided, — and though for iomo miles it was steadily ascending, yet the ascent was made i>y such an easy slope, that it was really imi)ercept'- ble ; and they bowlcl along as easily and <,.s merrily as if on level ground. .Moicover, tlie scenery around was of the most attrat^tive char- acter. They were among the luountaitis; and tiiough there were no snow-ckul suunnits, and no ON TO ROME. 269 lofty peaks lost amid the clouds, still the lowering forms that appeared on every side were full of grandeur and sublimity. Amid these the road ■wound, and at every new turn some fresh scene of l)eauty or of magnificence was disclosed to their a' a niiic , till it was termi- nated by a long blue line, which it needed not the explanation of the monk at their elbow to recog- nize as the Mediterranean ; and this blue line of distant sea spread far away, till it terminated in a projecting promontory, which their guide told them was the Cape of Terracina. Rut their attention was arrested by an object which was much nearer than this. Through that gray Campagna, — whose gray hue, the result of waste and barrenness, seemed also to mark its hoary agi\ — through this there ran a silver thread, with uian\' a winding to and Iro, now coming full into view, and gleam- ing in till' sun, now retreating, till it was lost to sight. " What is this?" asked David. " The Tiber ! " said the monk. - 1 ^ AMONi; THE BRIGANDS. At the mention of tliia august historic namo, a thrill involuntiirily pnssed through them. The Tiber ! What associations clustered around thut word ! Alojig this silver thread their eyes wandered, till at length it was lost for a time in a dark, ir- regular mass of something. The atmosf)here just now had grown slightly hazy in thi.s direction, so that they could not make out what this was, exact- ly ; whether a hill, or a grove, or a town ; but it looked most like a town, and tlie irregularities and projections seemed like towers and domes. Promi- nent among these projections was one larger mass, which rose up aliove all the others, and formed the chief feature in that indistinct mass. " What is all that? " asked David, in a hesitating way, like one who suspects the truth, but does not feel at all sure about it. " Dat," said the guide, " dat is Rome ; and dfit black mass dat you see is do '^'hurch of ^t. Peter's. It's not clear to-day — some time we can see it all plain." At this the boys said nothing, but stood in silence, looking up(ui the scene. It was one which might have stirred the .souls of even the least emo- tional, and among this little company there were two, at least, who were quick to kindle into enthu- siasm at the presence of anything connected with the storied past. These were David and Clivc, who each, though from difierent causes, now felt ENTHUSIASM OF THE BOYS. 273 himself profoundly moved by this spectacle. David's enthusiadm was that of a scholar; Clive'tJ was that of a poet; yet each was keen in his sus- ceptibility, and eloquent in the expression of his I'eclings. As for Fi-ank and Bob, they wore far less demon- strative ; and though they had {)lenty of enthusi- asm of their own, yet it was not often excited very violently by either ])0ctic feeling or classical reminiscences. The scene before them certainly moved their feelings also, on the present occasion; but they were not in the habit of indulging in ex- clamatory language, and so they looked on in quiet appreciation, witlu)Ut saying anything. Not so the other two, David and Clive. Each burst forth in his own wav. " How magnificent ! " cried Clive. " What a boundless scene ! How fortunate we are to have this for our first view of Rome ! I don't believe there is such another sight in all the M'orld. But what a scene must have appeared from these heights wlien Rome was in its glory ! " '• Yes,'" said David, chiming in, " such a place doesn't exist anywhere else in all the world. Ic's the cradle of history, and modern civilization. Hero is where the mighty Roman empire began. There is the Rome of the kings and the consuls; and down there is the arena, where they fought out that long battle that arranged the course of future ages." 18 274 AMOXO THE BRIGANDS. " Bosidos," sail! Clivo, " there is the scene of all tlie latter part of tlie /Eneid, and of all the im- mortal legends that arose ont of the early growth of Rome. What a i)lace this would be to read Macaulay's Lays of Ancient Rome 1 — " Hail to tlic greiit asylum ! Hail to the liill-tojjs seven ! Hail to tlio fire that hiirns for aye ! Ami the shields that fell from heaven! " At this moment Frank's attention was attracted to a place not very far away, where the sheen of some silver water flashed ibrtii from amid the dark green hue of the surrounding hills. " What is that ? " he asked of the guide. " It looks like a lake." "It is de Alban Lake." " The Alban Lake ! " cried David, in a fresh transport of enthusiasm ; " the Alban Lake ! What, the lake that the Romans drained at the siege of Veil ? " " It is de same," said the guide. " Is it really ? and is the canal or tunnel still in existence ? " " It is." " Is it far away ? " " Not ver far." " Boys, we must go there. It is the greatest curiosity of the country al)out here." " Well," said Frank, " I'm in for any curiosity. But how long will it take for us to see it ? " THK A LB AN LAKE. It will tiiko more dan one hour,"' said tlio guido. "More than an hour!" said Frank. "Urn — that won't do — wo've got to go back at once to get our ditUKir. It's ready by this time, and then we nmst k-avo for Rome." " Well, it's a great pity," said David, sadly. " T think I should bo willing to go without my dinner, to see that wonderful tunnel." " I shouldn't, then," said Frank, " not for all the tunnels in the world." " Nor should I," said Bob. " But what a magnificent effect the lake has when embraced in our view ! " said ('live. " ITow finely is the description in Childe Harold adapted to this scene : — 'And ni'iir, Alljaiio's scarce divided waves Shine from a sister valley ; and afar The Tiber winds, and tlie broad ocean laves The Latian coast, where sprung the Epic war, " Arn)s and the man " whose reasccndinf; star Rose o'er an empire ; hut beneath thy right Fully reposed from Home; and where yon bar Of {girdling mountains intercepts thy sight. The Sabine firm was tilled, the weary bard's delight.'" " Clive," said David, who had waited patiently for liim to finish his poetical quotation, "you'll come — won't you V " •' Come ? Come where ? " " Why, I want to visit the tunnel of the Alban Aj .SK W IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) y '^ &9 ^C 1.0 I.I 1.25 |5o "^^ H^H 1^ 112.2 ^ m 6" 1^ IIIIIM 1.8 U IIIIII.6 V] <^ /2 o-^^ /^ Pkitographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STMET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 6^ 27G AMONG THE BRIGANDS, Lake, and it'll take an hour to do it. If we go, we'll lose our dinner. Wiiat do you say? You dcn't think a dinner's the most important thing in the world ? " "Of course not," said Clive. " Besides, we can pick up some scraps when wo return, and eat them in the carriage." "That's right," said David. "Boys," he con- tinued, appealing to Frank and Bob, " you'd better come." "Whatl and lose our dinners?" cried Frank, scornfully. " Catch us at it. No. We require more substantial food than poetry and old ruins. Don't we, Bob ? " " Certainly," said Bob. " For my part poetry and old ruins never were in my line. As for ' Arms and the man ' and the ' Sabine farm,' why, all I can say is, I always hated them. I detested Virgil, and Horace, and Cicero, and the whole lot of them, at school ; and why I should turn round now, and pretend to like them, 1 don't know, I'm sure. Horace and Virgil, indeed I Bother HoracG and Virgil, I say." At such flippancy as this both David and Clivo looked too much pained to reply. They turned away in silence, and spoke to the guide. " 80 you're not coming back to dinner ? " said Frank. " No," said David ; " we want to see that tunnel." " Well, you'll lose your dinner; that's all." THE ALBAN LAKE, 277 " Of course. We don't care." '* At any rate, don't go and Ibrget about us. We want to leave for Komo after dinner, and you ought to be back in one Iiour, at the very iixrthest." " O, yes ; the guide says it'll only take an hour. We don't intend to spend any more time there than we can help." *' Well, I think you ought to come back," said Bob ; " 3'ou know very well how poor old Uncle Moses will fidget and worry about you." " O, no ; it's all right. Tell him that the guide is with us, you know." After a few more words, Frank and Bob, who were ravenously hungry, hurried back to the hotel, and David and Clive, who were also, to tell the truth, equally hningry, resisted their appetites as well as they were able, and accompanied their guido to the Lake Albano. Most boys are familiar with tlie story of the Alban Lake ; but for the benefit of those who may not have heard of it, or who, having heard, have forgotten, it may be as well to give a brief account of the famous tunnel, which was so very attractive to Clive and David. The city of Veil had been besieged for nine years, without success, by the Romans ; and at length, in the tenth year, a great prodigy occurred, in the shape of the sudden rising of the waters of the Alban Lake to an extraordinary height, with- 278 AMONG THE BRTOANDS. out any apparent cause. The Romans, in their bewiklerment, sent a messenger to the oracle of Delplii to inquire about it. Before this messenger returnee!, tliey also captured a Veientine priest, who informed tliem that there were certain pracular books in Veil, which declared that Veii could never perish unless the waters of the AU)an Lake should reach the sea. Not long afterwards the messenger returned from Delphi, who brought back an answer from the oracle at that place to the same efTect. Upon this, the Romans resolved to draw off the waters of the lake so as to let them flow to the sea. Such an undertaking was one of the most lai)orious kind, especially in an age like that ; hut the Romans entered upon it, and worked at it with that ex- traordinary tenacity of purpose which always dis- tinguished them. It was necessary to cut a tuimel through the mountain, through rock of the hardest possible description. But the same age had seen the excavation of other subterranean passages tar larger than thi^, and in the same country, pre- eminently the Grotto of Posilipo, at Naples, and that of the Cuma3an Sibyl, and at length it was ac- complished. The people of Veii hoard of it, and were filled with alarm. Ambassinlors were sent to Rome, with the hope of inducing the Romans to come to some other terms less severe than the surrender of the city ; but they were disappointed, and accord- ing to the legend, could only comfort themselves by announcing to the Romans a prophecy in the Tin: ALBAN LAKE. 279 oracular books of Voii, to the cfl'cct tluit, if this siege should be carried through to the capture of the city, Rome itself should bo taken by tlie Gauls soon after. Tiiis prophecy, however, had no efleet whatever upon the stern resolution of the Romans. The subterranean passage to the lake was also supplemented by another, which led to the citadel of Veii. As the time approached ibr the final assault, the Roman Senate invited all the Roman people to participate in it, and promised them a share of the booty. This promise induced a vast multitude, old and young, to go there. The time at last came. The water of the Alban Lake was let out into the tields, and the party that entered the subterranean passage to the citadel u'ere led by Camillus, while, at the same time, a general assault was made upon the walls by the rest of the army. At that moment the king of Veii happened to be sacrificing in the Temple of Juno, which was in the citadel, and Camillus, with his Romans, were immediately beneath, close enough to hear what he said. It happened that the attendant priest declared that whoever should bring the goddess her share of the victim should conquer. Camillus heard the words, and at once they burst forth upon the astonished Veientans, seized upon the altar, ofTcr^d the sacrifice, and thus performed what had been declared to be the conditions of victory. After this they held the citadel, and sent a detach- ment to open the gates to the assaulting army 280 AMONG THE BRIOANDM. outside. Thus Vcii foil ; and this ic tju? k'gend which, like many others belonging to early Roman times, is more full ol' poetry than of trutii. The tunnel still remains, and is one of the chief curiosities left from ancient times. It is about two miles long, six feet high, and three and a half feet wide. To this place the guide led David and Clive, and entertained them on the way with the account of its origin, which accorded in most particulars with that which is given above ; and though both of the boys wore familiar with the story, yet it was not unpleasant to hear it again, told by one who lived in the neighborhood of the place, and had passed his life amid these scenes. It seemed to them to give a certain degree of authenticity to the old legend. There was not much to see, exce{)t an opening in the rock, the mouth of the tunnel, with rushes, and mosses, and grasses, and shrubbery growing around it. Having seen it, they were satisfied, and turned to go back to the hotel. After a short distance, the guide showed them where there was a path turning off through the fields, wiiich formed a short cut back. Upon this they paid him for his trouble, and he went back to the convent, while they went along the path by which he had directed them. THE LONELY PATH. 281 CHAPTER XXV. The lonely Path. — The sequestered Vale. — The old House. — A Feudal Castle. — A baronial Windmill. — A mysterious Sound. — A terrible Discove)y. — At Bay. — The Wild Beast's Lair .'— What is It ? — A great Bore! % 1^//^HE path by which Clive and David returned fto the hotel, went down a slope of tlio hill into a valley, and led over a second hill, beyond which was All)ano. There were no houses visible, for the town was hidden by the hill, except, of course, the convent, which, from its conspicuous position, was never out of sight. As they descended into the valley, they came to a grove of olive trees ; and beyond this there was a ruined edifice, built of stone, and apparently long since deserted. It was two stories in height, but the stories were high, and it looked as though it might once have been used for a tower of some sort. The attention of both of the boys was at once arrested by it, and they stood and looked at it for some time. ** I wonder what it has been," said David. " No doubt," said Clive, " it is the ruin of some mediieval castle." 282 AMONG THE BRIGANDS. " It (Iocs not liave much of the look of a castle." " Why not ? " " 0, why, there are no architectural features in it ; no battlements ; it has, in fact, a rather modern uir." " Not a bit of it," said Clive. " See those old stones grown over with mosp ; and look at the ivy.'" " Yes, but look at the windows. They didn't have such large windows in castles, you know." "Yes, but these windows ^/ere probably made afterwards. The place was once a castle ; but at length, of course it became deserted, and began to fall to ruins. Then somebody fixed it up for a dwelling-house, and made these windows in the walls." " Well, that's not improbable." " Not improbable ! Why, I'm sure it's very nat- ural. Look how thick the walls are ! " " They do seem pretty thick." " 0, they are real castle walls ; there's no doubt at all about that," said Clive, in a positive tone. " Why, they are three feet thick, at least. And, you see, there are signs of an additional story having been above it." " Yes, 1 dare say," said David, looking up. " The edges there look ragged, as though some upper portion has been knocked off." " And I dare say it's been a great place for brig- ands," said Clive. "0, bother brigands," saiu David. "For my A FEUDAL CASTLE. 283 part, I begin to tliink, not only that there are no brigands now, but even that there never have been any such people at all." " Well, I won't go so far as that," said Clive, " l)ut I certainly begin to have my doubts .about them." " They're all humbugs," said David. " All of our brigands have been total failures," said Clive. " Yes," said David ; " they all turned out to be the most au.iible people in the world. But come ; suppose we go inside, and explore this old ruin. It may be something famous. I wish the guide were here." " O, we'll look at it first all over, and then ask at the hotel." " Yes, that's the way." " But have Ave time ? " " 0, of course ; it won't take us five minutes,'' Upon this Clive started off" for the ruined struc- ture, followed by David. It was, as has been said, two stories in height. In the lower story was a small, narrow doorway. The door was gone. There were no windows, and it was quite dark inside. It was about twelve feet wide, and fifteen feet long. At one end were some piles of fagots heaped together. The height was about fifteen I'eet. Before them they saw a rude ladder, running up to the story above. Its feet rested near the back of the room. There was 284 AMONO Tin: DHKJAND.S. no floor to the house, but only the hard-packed earth. " There's nothing here," said Darid, looking around. " Lot's go into the upper story," said ('live. To this proposal David assented (piite readily; and accordingly they both entered, and walked towards the ladder. Clive ascended first, and Da- vid ibllowed. In a few moments they were in the U])per story. Here it was light, for there were two windows in front. There was a floor, and the walls were plastered. Fragments of straw lay about, inter- mingled with chaff, as though the place had been used lor some sort of a store-house. Overhead there were a number of heavy beams, which seemed too numerous and complicated to serve merely for the support of a roof; and among tlujm was one largo, round beam, which ran across. At this both of the boys stared very curiously. " I wonder what all that can be for," asked David. " 0, no doul)t," said Clive, " it's some of the mas- sive wood-work of the old castle." " But what was the good of it? " " Why, to support the roof, of course," said Clive. " Yes, but there is too much. They would never have needed all that to support so small a roof. It's a waste of timber." A UAUONIAL WINDMILL. 285 " 0, well, you kwow you mustn't expect the same ingenuity in an Ituliun builder uaiyou would in iin Americuu." " 1 don't know about that. Why not? Do you mean to say tliat tlio Italians are interior to the Americans in arciiitecture ? Pooh, man ! in America tiiere is no architecture at all ; while here, in every little town, they have some edifice that in America would be considered something wonderl'ul." "(), well, you know they are very clumsy in })ractical matters, in spite of their artistic superi- ority. But apart from that, I've just been think- ing that this is only a part of some largo castle, and this lumber work was, perhaps, once the main sui)p()rt of a massive roof So, after all, it would have its use." David said nothing for some time. He was looking earnestly at the wood-work. " I'll tell you what it is," said he, at last. " I've got it. It isn't a castle at all. It's a windmill." " A windmill ! " exclaimed Clive, contemptuous- ly. " What nonsense ! It's an old tower — the kee]) of some mediieval castle." " It's a windmill ! " persisted David. '' Look at that big beam. It's round. See in one corner those projecting pieces. They were once part of Bome projecting wheel. Why, of course, it's a windmill. The other end of that cross-beam goes outside for the fans to be attached to it. This big cross-beam was the shaft. Of course that's it." 286 AMONO TF?K lUlir.AXDS. Clive looked very much crost-lUlIon at this. II.- was unahlo to disprove a fact of" whicli the <'vi- dences were now so phvin ; hut he struggled to maintiiin a httle longer the rospectahility of hisj feudal castle. " Well,'" said he. •' I dare say it may have liecii used afterwards for a windmill; hut 1 am sure it .vas originally huilt as a haronial hall, some tiino during the middle ages. Afterwards it hfgaii to go to ruin ; and then, I dare say, some miller IMIow has. taken possession of the keep, and torn