Vesuvio is sick, and Naples mourns until the tyrant is well again."

"But the danger," said Uncle John. "What do you think of the wisdom of
our staying here? Is it safe to keep my girls in Naples during this
eruption?"

"Ah! Why not? This very morning the mountain asunder burst, and we who
love our people dread the news of devastation we shall hear. From the
observatory, where His Majesty's faithful servant still remains, come
telegrams that the great pebbles--what we call scoria--have ruined
Ottajano and San Guiseppe. Perhaps they are overwhelmed. But the beast
has vomited; he will feel better now, and ever become more quiet."

"I suppose," remarked Mr. Merrick, thoughtfully, "that no one knows
exactly what the blamed hill may do next. I don't like to take chances
with three girls on my hands. They are a valuable lot, Colonel, and
worth saving."

The boyish Italian instantly looked grave. Then he led Uncle John away
from the others, although doubtless he was the only officer present able
to speak or understand English, and said to him:

"Where are you living?"

"At the hotel named after your sick mountain--the Vesuve."

"Very good. In the bay, not distant from your hotel, lies a government
launch that is under my command. At my home in the Viala Elena are a
wife and two children, who, should danger that is serious arise, will be
put by my soldiers on the launch, to carry them to safety. Admirable, is