"I am despairing，signore，"said he，in English sufficientlystrangulated to be amusing but nevertheless quite comprehensible，"that you and the sweet signorinic are to see our lovely Naples under tribulationsd so very great.But yesterday，in all the world is no city so enchanting，so brilliant，so gay.To—day—look！is it not horrible？Vesuvio is sick，and Naples mourns until the tyrant is well again.""But the danger，"said Uncle John."What do you think ofthe 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 asunderburst，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，"thatno 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 of?cer 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 it not？""Very good arrangement，"said Uncle John.
"It renders me content to know that in any dif?culty theycannot be hurt.I am not scare，myself，but it is pleasant to know I have what you call the side that is safe.From my American wife I have many of your excellent speech ?gures.But now！The launch is big.Remain happy in Naples—happy as Vesuvio will let you—and watch his vast，his giganticexhibition.If danger come，you all enter my launch and besaved.If no danger，you have a marvelous experience."The serious look glided from his face，and was replaced by a smile as bright as before.
"Thank you very much，"responded Uncle John，gratefully."Ishall go back to the girls well satis?ed.""Make the signorini stay in to—day，"warned the colonel."It is bad，just now，and so black one can nothing at all observe.To—morrow it will be better，and all can go without.I will see you myself，then，and tell you what to do."Then he insisted that Uncle John clear his parcheda throat with a glass of vermouth—a harmless drink of which all Italians are very fond—and sent him away much refreshed in body and mind.
He made his way through the ashy rain back to the hotel.People were holding umbrellas over their heads and plodding through the dust with seeming unconcern.At one corner a street singer was warblingb，stopping frequently to cough the lava dust from his throat or shake it from his beloved mandolin.A procession of peasants passed，chanting slowly and solemnlya religious hymn.At the head of the column was borne aloft a gilded statuette of the Virgin，and although Uncle John did not know it，these simple folks were trusting in the sacred image to averta further disaster from the angry mountain.
On arriving home Mr.Merrick told the girls with great elation of his new friend，and how they were to be taken aboard the launch in case of emergency.
"But how will we know when danger threatens ？"askedLouise.
While Uncle John tried to think of an answer to this puzzling query someone knocked upon the door.The concierge was standing in the passage and beside him was a soldier in uniform，a nattyb cock's plume upon his beaver hat and a short carbine over his arm.
"A guard from Colonel Angeli，Signor，"said theconcierge，respectfully—the first respectful tone he had yet employed.
The soldier took off his hat with a flourish，and bowedlow.
"He is to remain in the hotel，sir，yet will not disturbyou in any way，"continued the whiskered one."But should he approach you at any time and beckon you to follow him，do so at once，and without hesitation.It is Colonel Angeli's wish.You are in the charge of this brave man，who will watch over your welfare.""That settles it，my dears，"said Uncle John，cheerfully，when the soldier and the concierge had withdrawn."This Italian friend doesn't do things by halves，and I take it we are perfectly safe from this time on."