“Really,” she said, “it is much better than candle—­a little difficult to masticate perhaps, but, if I do say it myself, quite a tolerable flavour.  If I only hadn’t used that abominable French polish this morning.  What do you think, Mr. Dod?”

“I think,” said Dicky, jumping suddenly to his feet, while my heart stood still with anticipation, “that if there’s enough of that shoe left, you had better put it on again, for I hear people calling us,” and then, making a trumpet with his hands, Dicky shouted till all the Roman skeletons sufficiently intact turned to listen.  But this time the answer came back from their descendants, running with a flash of lanterns.

[Illustration:  Dicky shouted till the skeletons turned to listen.]

* * * * *

I will skip the scene of our reunion, because I am not good at matters which are moving, and we were all excessively moved.  It is necessary to explain, however, that Brother Demetrius, when he went above ground, felt his lumbago so acutely that he retired to bed, and was therefore not visible when the others came up.  As we had planned beforehand, the Senator decided to go on to the Jewish Catacombs, taking it for granted that we would follow, while Brother Eusebius, when he found Demetrius in bed, also took it for granted that we had gone on ahead.  He did not inquire, he said, because the virtue of taciturnity being denied to them in the exercise of their business, they always diligently cultivated it in private.  My own conviction was that they were not on speaking terms.  Our friends and relatives, after looking at the Jewish Catacombs, had driven back to the hotel, and only began to feel anxious at tea time, as they knew the English refreshment-rooms were closed for the season, like everything else, and Isabel asserted with tears that if her mother was above ground she would not miss her tea.  So they all drove back to the Catacombs, and effected our rescue after we had been immured for exactly seven hours.  I wish to add, to the credit of Mr. Richard Dod, that he has never yet breathed a syllable to anybody about the manner in which Mrs. Portheris sustained nature during our imprisonment, although he must often have been strongly tempted to do so.  And neither have I—­until now.

CHAPTER XV.

“The thing that struck me on our drive to the hotel,” remarked momma, “was that Naples was almost entirely inhabited by the lower classes.”

“That is very noticeable indeed,” concurred Mr. Mafferton, who was also there for the first time.  “The people of the place are no doubt in the country at this time of the year, but one would naturally expect to see more respectable persons about.”

“Now you’ll excuse me, Mafferton,” said the Senator, “but that’s just one of those places where I lose the trail of the English language as used by the original inventors.  Where do you draw the line of distinction between people and persons?”