Edith and Rafael planned their trip to the top of Vesuvius for many days before the right morning finally arrived. "The right morning is a bright morning," sang Edith one evening as she looked out at the stars; "and to-morrow will bring a bright morning," she added, so positively that Mrs. Sprague sent Rafael to buy the tickets, in order that they might be ready for an early start. Although it was the last week in December the air was soft and warm, and the sun shone with the brightness of summer. From Naples to the foot of Mt. Vesuvius there was first a drive of several hours, after which they went up to the crater over an inclined railway. "It is like looking at the entrance to the underworld," said Edith, as they looked down into the great chasm which holds so much mystery and terror; and she was glad to take the train back to the foot of the mountain. As they stood looking at the great beds of lava Rafael turned to a peasant whose little farm was not far away, and asked him if he ever felt free from danger. "Ah, no!" the man answered, lifting sad eyes and hands to heaven. "When I go to sleep at night I think always, before the light of the morning, the mountain, he may send his fire and stones to crush us all; who knows?" "Why did the people of Pompeii live so near to Vesuvius, if they knew it might bury them?" Edith asked impatiently. "They did not know it in the days when Pompeii was built," Rafael told her. "Vesuvius was supposed to be an extinct volcano then. It had not said a word for hundreds of years. Everything about it was green and beautiful, and its slopes were covered with forests and vineyards. It is not strange that people built the two cities near its base." "What other city was built, besides Pompeii?" asked the girl. "Herculaneum," answered Rafael. "None of the people felt any fear of danger in the two cities, although an earthquake destroyed some of the buildings in the reign of Nero. "But in the year 79 A. D., Vesuvius suddenly woke up, and there was a fearful eruption. Ashes and rocks were thrown out of the crater with great force, and hot lava poured down the side of the mountain. The two cities at the foot were completely buried under the ashes, and thousands of people were killed." "There was an eruption in 1906, which made many people homeless," said Mrs. Sprague, "and no one knows when there may be another. "Pompeii lay buried for seventeen centuries, and people forgot that there had been such a city; when, after a long time, a farmer who was digging for a well discovered the ruins, and since then a part of each city has been excavated." "I should like to know just how the people of Pompeii lived, and what they were doing when the city was destroyed," said Edith. "You shall see the relics that were taken from the ruins and are now in the museum at Naples," her mother told her. "The life of the old Pompeiians has been studied from those relics and a guide can tell you just how they did their housekeeping and what their life was like." Before she left America, Edith had looked forward to the smoking mountain of Vesuvius and the city of Pompeii as being the most wonderful part of her journey. The volcano, and the city which "Wait until we see Vesuvius and Pompeii!" had been her cry whenever she wrote home. "Then I shall have something to tell you!" But she turned her face away from the forbidding crater and the desolate beds of lava with a feeling of disappointment that was half fear. "Perhaps I shall like better to go into the museum and see the curious things that were found in Pompeii," she said, as she searched for a bit of lava from which to have a piece of jewelry fashioned. "Just think of having the whole world interested to know how the people baked their bread so long ago," said Rafael; and when they had returned to Naples, the children found it very interesting to visit the museum and imagine how the people lived in the time of Christ. Then one day they went down to the ruined city, riding in a small car over a roadbed so loosely made that Rafael laughed about it, and Edith said it was only a toy journey. But when they went through the sea-gate at Pompeii, passed the army of boys bearing baskets of earth from the excavations, and stood in the silent streets, Edith drew closer to her mother, and Rafael walked quietly beside them. They followed the instructions of the guide and At last Edith drew Mrs. Sprague into the lonely angle of a wall where they could see nothing of the crumbled houses all about them, the pavements, or the great stepping-stones in the streets. "I want to go home," she said with a shudder. "I never want to see Vesuvius again." She was plainly homesick. It was a sudden ending to the "long thoughts of youth" which had filled so many hours with bright anticipations; but she was in such a hurry to get away from the buried city that they took the next train back to Naples without even stopping to buy picture postcards of the ruins. When they reached their hotel in Naples they found a foreign war-ship anchored in the bay. "There is the old man-of-war threatening us from the land, and here is one in the bay," exclaimed Edith. "It makes me nervous!" Mrs. Sprague saw that her daughter was tired. "We will go back to Rome to-morrow," she said. "But I want to buy a lottery ticket before we leave Naples," said the girl. "Befana will fill your stockings with ashes if you do," said Rafael. "Everybody in Italy buys lottery tickets. Why should not I?" asked Edith perversely. "I do it not," said Rafael shortly. "That is because your wonderful king does not believe in it," she answered. "Is that not a good reason?" asked the boy. He looked at her with the same expression he wore in Venice, when she spoke slightingly of the superstitions of his country, and as she knew him better now, she laughed and agreed with him. "I did not really mean to do it," she said, and added, "Tell me more about Befana." "How I used to shake in my bed when I heard her bell ring!" he said with a laugh. "Did you really hear it ring?" asked Edith. He looked at her drolly, answering, "Of course I heard her bell. And often I heard the sheep talking to one another on Twelfth-night; or at least I thought I did." "Truly?" asked Edith in great delight. He nodded, smiling mischievously at her unexpected pleasure in hearing of the Italian superstitions. Befana is the Italian Lady Santa Claus. She is quite different from the fat, jolly man who drives his reindeer over the roofs at Christmas time. While Sir Santa is short and rosy, Befana is dark and tall; and while the kind old gentleman leaves Instead of happening at Christmas, as with us, the Italian festival is celebrated on the eve of Epiphany, the sixth of January. "Everyone is happy then," said Rafael, "and we shall forget Pompeii and the man-of-war which is always threatening it." So the children began at once to plan for the Twelfth-night festival. "Mother and I will make some peasant costumes for us to wear," Edith told Rafael, and added, "or you might wear a soldier's uniform and a cocked hat. The soldiers look so fine and march so well in Italy!" "Come children, it is time to go to bed if we are to take the early morning train to Rome," interrupted Mrs. Sprague, who had been studying a time-table; and the children separated, little dreaming that every plan would soon be changed. |