The windows of every cabin facing the volcano were filled with eager faces, and in the smoking room Uncle John clasped Beth around the waist with one arm and Patsy with the other and watched the wonderful exhibition through the window with a grave and anxious face.  Tom Horton had taken a position at one side of them and the dark Italian at the other.  The latter assured Patsy they were in no danger whatever.  Tom secretly hoped they were, and laid brave plans for rescuing Beth or perishing at her side.  Louise chose to lie in her berth and await events with calm resignation.  If they escaped she would not look haggard and hollow-eyed when morning came.  If a catastrophy was pending she would have no power to prevent it.

It was four o’clock on Sunday morning when Vesuvius finally reached the climax of her travail.  With a deep groan of anguish the mountain burst asunder, and from its side rolled a great stream of molten lava that slowly spread down the slope, consuming trees, vineyards and dwellings in its path and overwhelming the fated city of Bosco-Trecase.

Our friends marked the course of destruction by watching the thread of fire slowly wander down the mountain slope.  They did not know of the desolation it was causing, but the sight was terrible enough to inspire awe in every breast.

The volcano was easier after that final outburst, but the black clouds formed thicker than ever, and soon obscured the sky again.

CHAPTER VI

UNDER A CLOUD

“After all,” said Uncle John, next morning, “we may consider ourselves very lucky.  Your parents might have come to Naples a hundred times, my dears, and your children may come a hundred times more, and yet never see the sights that have greeted us on our arrival.  If the confounded old hill was bound to spout, it did the fair thing by spouting when we were around.  Eh, Patsy?”

“I quite agree with you,” said the girl.  “I wouldn’t have missed it for anything—­if it really had to behave so.”

“But you’ll pay for it!” growled Signor Valdi, who had overheard these remarks.  “You will pay for it with a thousand discomforts—­and I’m glad that is so.  Vesuvio is hell let loose; and it amuses you.  Hundreds are lying dead and crushed; and you are lucky to be here.  Listen,” he dropped his voice to a whisper:  “if these Neapolitans could see the rejoicing in my heart, they would kill me.  And you?  Pah! you are no better.  You also rejoice—­and they will welcome you to Naples.  I have advice.  Do not go on shore.  It is useless.”

They were all startled by this strange speech, and the reproof it conveyed made them a trifle uncomfortable; but Uncle John whispered that the man was mad, and to pay no attention to him.