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Page 73
A month had thus passed away. A marked improvement had taken place in
Mrs. Lansdowne's health, and John proposed that they should go to
Naples and make an excursion thence to Pompeii.
One morning, they drove out from the swarming city toward those famous
ruins, revealing to the curious so much of the old Roman civilization.
After a drive of twelve miles past fields of lava and ashes, the
accumulations from recent irruptions of Vesuvius, they arrived at the
street of tombs, a fitting entrance to the desolated city. Here, the
beautifully sculptured monuments, memorials of a departed generation,
awoke in their hearts a peculiar interest. Through these they entered
at once into the inner life of joys and sorrows of an extinct race.
"How terrible death must have been to these people, whose ideas of the
future world were so vague and unsatisfying, and who had really no
knowledge of immortality!" said Mrs. Lansdowne.
"Yes", replied John. "And with nothing brighter or more glorious to
look forward to in the beyond, how reluctant they must have felt to
leave these glowing skies, this delicious air, these scenes of beauty
and art, for the darkness of the grave. I fancy it must have been
harder for them than if they had been surrounded with the sombre
tints, the chilling atmosphere, and the more subdued forms of life in
our own clime".
Leaving the cemetery, they passed on through the narrow streets, paved
with blocks of lava, on which were the traces of carriage wheels worn
into the material more than eighteen hundred years ago. They went into
the Pompeian houses, walked over the marble mosaic floors, looked at
the paintings on the walls, examined the bronzes, the statues, the
domestic utensils, the shop of the oil merchant, with his name on it
still legible, until, in imagination, they began to people the
solitude,--bringing back the gay, luxurious, beauty-loving Pompeians
again to live and revel in their former haunts.
At length, quite exhausted, Mrs. Lansdowne sank down on a seat in one
of the porticoes, and John, placing himself by her side, tempted her
to partake of a lunch he had provided for the occasion.
Soon, the pensive influences of the scene stole over them, and they
sat for some time in perfect silence.
Mrs. Lansdowne first interrupted it, by exclaiming, "John, what are
you thinking of?"
"Thinking of! why I was thinking just then how those Pompeians used to
sit in these porticoes and talk of the deeds of C�sar and of the
eloquence of Cicero, while those renowned men were yet living, and how
they discussed the great combats in the amphitheatres of Rome. And
what were you cogitating, my dear mother?" said he, smiling.
"Oh! I was thinking woman's thoughts. How slowly they excavate here! I
have an extreme curiosity to know what there is, yet uncovered to the
light of day, beyond that dead wall of ashes".
"If I were a magician, I would apply to your eyes some unguent, which
should unveil what is there concealed", said John, smiling. "Will you
go now to the theatre?"
He drew his mother's arm within his, and they moved on. That portion
of the city appeared as if it had been partially destroyed by a
conflagration.
Looking towards Vesuvius, he said, "I can easily imagine the
sensations of those who gazed at the volcano on that terrible day and
saw for the first time its flames bursting out, and throwing their
horrid glare on the snow-capped mountains around. Fire is a
tremendous element".
As he uttered the words, the scene of the great conflagration at
Miramichi rose to his view.
"_Salve! Salve!_" exclaimed a rich, musical voice near him, just at
that moment.
The word and the tone in which it was uttered, thrilled him, like an
electric shock. He looked, with a bewildered air, in the direction
from whence the voice proceeded, and saw, standing before the
threshold of one of the Pompeian houses, a tall, elegant female
figure, habited in mourning.
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