_How in the World did it get there?--A joyous Ride.--Hark! Hark!
The Dogs do bark! Beggars come to Town; some in Rags, some in Tags,
and some in a tattered Gown!--A pleasant Meditation on a classic
Past very rudely, unexpectedly, and even savagely interrupted, and
likely to terminate in a Tragedy!--Perilous Position of David and
Clive._
Fortunately, no bones were broken. The Italian slowly picked
himself up, and casting a stupid look at the boys, moved slowly
away, leaving the occupants of the standing there in their
night-clothes, and earnestly discussing the question,--How in the
world did the goat get there?
This was indeed a knotty question, till at length it was unravelled
by Uncle Moses.
"Wal, I declar," said he, "ef I didn't go an leave the door open."
"You!" cried all.
"Yes," said he. "You see it was dreadful close an suffocatin last
night; so when you went to bed, I jest left that door open to cool
off. Then I went off to bed, and forgot all about it."
That was clear enough as far as it went, but still it did not
account for the presence of a goat in the sixth story of a hotel.
This they found out afterwards. That very day they saw flocks of
goats being driven about from house to house. At other times they
saw goats in their own hotel. They were hoisted up to the various
stories, milked, and left to find their way down themselves. The
fashion of using goat's milk was universal, and this was the simple
way in which families were supplied. As to their visitor, the billy
goat, he was undoubtedly the patriarch of some flock, who had
wandered up stairs himself, perhaps in a fit of idle curiosity.
"If it hadn't been dark," said Frank. "If it hadn't been so abominably
dark!"
"We were like Ajax," said David,--who was a bit of a pedant, and
dealt largely in classical allusions,--"we were like Ajax, you
know:--
'Give as but light, and let as _see_ our foes,
We'll bravely fall, though Jove himself oppose.'"
"O, that's all very well," said Uncle Moses; "but who's goin to
pay for all that thar furnitoor? The goat can't."
"Uncle Moses," said Bob, gravely, "there's a great deal in what
you say."
Uncle Moses turned away with a look of concern in his mild face,
and retreated into his room.
(It may as well be stated here, that Uncle Moses had to pay for
that furniture. The landlord called up an interpreter, and they
had a long and somewhat exciting interview. It ended in the landlord's
recovering a sum of money which was sufficient to furnish a whole
suit of apartments in another part of the house.)
Being now fairly introduced to Naples, the boys were all eager to
see the place and its surroundings, and Uncle Moses was quite
willing to gratify them in any way. So they hired a carriage, found
a guide, named Michael Angelo, who could speak English, and, thus
equipped, they set out first for Baiae.
Through the city they went, through the crowded streets; past the
palaces, cathedrals, gardens; past the towers, castles, and quays;
till at last there arose before them the mighty Grotto of Posilipo.
Through this they drove, looking in astonishment at its vast
dimensions, and also at the crowds of people who were passing
through it, on foot, on horseback, and on wheels. Then they came
to Pozzuoli, the place where St. Paul once landed, and which is
mentioned in the New Testament under its ancient name--Puteoli.
Here they were beset by beggars. The sight of this produced strange
effects upon the little party. Uncle Moses, filled with pity,
lavished money upon them, in spite of the remonstrances of the
guide. Clive's sensitive nature shuddered at the spectacle. Frank
tried to speak a few words of Italian to them, which he had caught
from Michael Angelo. David muttered something about the ancient
Romans, while Bob kept humming to himself these elegant verses:--
"Hark! hark! The dogs do bark!
Beggars come to town,
Some in rags, some in tags,
Some in a tattered gown!"
The beggars followed them as far as they could, and when they left
them, reinforcements always arrived.
Thus they were beset by them at the crater of the extinct volcano
of Solfatura.
They encountered them at the gateway of Cumae,
At the Grotto of the Comaean Sibyl,
At Nero's Baths,
At the Lucrine Lake,
At Baiae,
At Misenum,
In fact everywhere.
Still, they enjoyed themselves very well, and kept up their pursuit
of sights until late in the day. They were then at Baiae; and here
the party stopped at a little inn, where they proposed to dine.
Here the beggars beset them, in fresh crowds, till Uncle Hoses was
compelled to close his purse, and tear himself away from his
clamorous visitants. Frank and Bob went off to see if they could
find some donkeys, ponies, or horses, so as to have a ride after
dinner; while David and Clive strolled off towards the country.
"Come, Clive," said David, "let Frank and Bob enjoy their jackasses.
For my part, I want to get to some place where I can sit down, and
see this glorious land. It's the most classic spot in all the
world."
"It's the most beautiful and poetic," said Clive, who was given to
sentiment.
Walking on, they came to a place which projected into the sea, and
here they sat down.
"O, what a glorious sight!" exclaimed Clive. "Look at this wonderful
Bay of Naples! How intensely blue the water is! How intensely blue
the sky is! And look at Vesuvius opposite. What an immense amount
of smoke is coming from the crater!"
"Yes," said David, clearing his throat, "this is the place that
the elder Pliny sailed from at the time of the destruction of
Herculaneum and Pompeii. And look all around. That little town
was once the luxurious Baiae. Over yonder is Lake Lucrine, which
Virgil sings about. On that side is Misenum, where the Roman navy
lay. There is Caligula's Bridge. What a glorious place! Everything
that we have ever read of in classic story gathers about us here.
Cicero, Caesar, Horace, Virgil, Tiberius, and Juvenal, seem to live
here yet. Nero and Agrippina, Caligula and Claudius,--every old
Roman, good or bad. And look, Clive, that is land out there. As I
live, that is Capraea! And see,--O, see, Clive,--that must be
the--"
"_Datemi un carlino, signori, per l'amor di Dio. Sono povero--molto
povero!_"
It was in the middle of David's rather incoherent rhapsody that
these words burst upon his ears. He and Clive started to their
feet, and found close behind them a half dozen of those miserable
beggars. Two of them were old men, whose bleary eyes and stooping
frames indicated extreme age. One was a woman on, crutches. Number
Four was a thin, consumptive-looking man. Number Five and Number
Six were strong-limbed fellows, with very villanous faces. It was
with one universal whine that these unwelcome visitors addressed
the boys.
"_Datemi un carlino, signori, per l'amor di Dio._"
David shook his head.
"_Sono miserabile_," said Number Five.
"I don't understand," said David.
"_Noi abbiam fame_," said Number Six.
"_Non capisco_," said Clive, who had learned that much Italian from
Michael Angelo.
"_O, signori nobilissime!_"
"I tell you, I don't understand," cried David.
"Non capisco," repeated Clive.
"_Siamo desperati_," said Number Six, with a sinister gleam in his
eyes, which neither of the boys liked.
"Come, Clive," said David, "let's go back. Dinner must be ready by
this time."
And they turned to go.
But as they turned, Number Five and Number Six placed themselves
in the way.
"_Date qualche cosa_," they whined; and each of them seized a boy
by the arm. The boys tried to jerk their arms away, but could not.
"Let us go," cried David, "or it will be the worse for you."
The two beggars now talked in Italian without relaxing their hold.
Then they tried to pull the boys away; but the boys resisted bravely,
and began to shout for help. At this the other beggars came forward
menacingly, and Number Five and Number Six put their arms round
the boys, and their hands over their mouths. Neither David nor
Clive could now utter a cry. They could scarcely breathe. They were
at the mercy of these miscreants!
It was, in truth, a perilous position in which David and Clive
found themselves. Those ragged rascals, the beggars, were as
remorseless as they were ragged. They had the boys at their mercy.
The place was sufficiently far from the town to be out of hearing;
and though the road was near, yet there were no people living in
the vicinity. It was, therefore, sufficiently solitary to permit
of any deed of violence being done with impunity.
David and Clive gave themselves up for lost With a last frantic
effort, David tore his head loose, dashed his fist into the face
of beggar Number Six, who was holding him, and tried to escape.
"_Scelerate!_" cried Number Six; and he threw David to the ground,
and held him down, while he caught him by the throat. But though
thus overpowered, David still struggled, and it was with some
difficulty that the big brute who held him was able to keep him
under.
Suddenly, at this moment, when all hope seemed lost, a loud cry
was heard. There was a rush of two figures upon the scene; and the
next instant Number Six was torn away, and rolled over on his back.
A firm grasp was fixed on his throat, and a tremendous blow descended
on his head from a stout stick, which was wielded by the youthful
but sinewy arm of Frank Wilmot. At the same instant, also, Bob
Clark had bounded at Number Five, leaped on his back, and began
beating him about the head.
The attack had been so sudden, and so utterly unexpected, that it
carried all before it. Away, with a wild cry of terror, fled the
four decrepit beggars, leaving Number Five and Number Six on the
field to themselves and the four boys. Number Six groaned with
pain, and struggled furiously. He wrenched himself from beneath
his assailants, but they again got the upper hand, and held on
firmly. But Number Six was too strong to be easily grappled with,
and it went hard with his assailants.
Meanwhile Clive, relieved by Bob, had become an assailant also.
Snatching up a stone, he dashed it full in the face of Number Five.
The man staggered back and fell, and Bob narrowly escaped falling
under him. But Number Five sprang up instantly, and before Bob or
Clive could close with him again, darted off without attempting to
help Number Six, and ran for his life. Cowardly by nature, the
beggars did not think of the size of their assailants; their fears
magnified the boys to men; and they only thought of safety in a
panic flight But Number Six was there yet, with Frank Wilmot's
sinewy arms about him, and Bob and Clive now rushed to take part
in that struggle. This addition to the attacking force turned the
scale completely.
The struggle that now followed was most violent, the Italian making
the most furious efforts to free himself; but Frank was very large
and strong for his years; he was possessed of bull-dog tenacity
and high-strung courage, and was strenuously assisted by the other
three; so that the union of all their forces formed something to
which one man was scarcely equal. In a very short time, therefore,
after the arrival of Bob and Clive, the would-be robber was lying
on his face, held firmly down by the four boys.
"Boys," said Frank, who was sitting on his shoulders, "fold his
arms over his back."
As they did this, he twisted his handkerchief tightly, and then
bound it around the man's hands as firmly as if it had been a rope.
Bob and Clive held him down by sitting on his legs, while David
sat on his neck. Frank now asked for their hand, kerchiefs, twisted
them, tied them together, and then directed Bob to fasten the man's
feet. This was Bob's task, and he did it as neatly as though he
had been brought up to that particular business exclusively.
The man was now bound hard and fast, and lay on his face without
a word, and only an occasional struggle. The weight of the boys
was so disposed that it was not possible for him to get rid of
them, and Frank watched all his attempted movements so vigilantly,
that every effort was baffled at the outset. Frank also watched
Bob as he tied the knots, and then, seeing that the work was well
done, he started up.
"Come, boys," said he, "let's give the rascal a chance to breathe."
At this the boys all got up, and the Italian, relieved from their
weight, rolled over on his back, and then on his side, staring all
around, and making desperate efforts to free himself. He was like
the immortal Gulliver when bound by the Lilliputians, except that
one of his assailants, at least, was no Lilliputian, for in brawn,
and sinew, and solid muscle, Frank, boy though he might be, was
not very much, if at all, his inferior. As he struggled, and stared,
and rolled about, the boys looked on; and Frank watched him carefully,
ready to spring at him at the first sign of the bonds giving way.
But the knots had been too carefully tied, and this the Italian
soon found out. He therefore ceased his useless efforts, and sat
up; then, drawing up his feet, he leaned his chin on his knees,
and stared sulkily at the ground.
"And now," said David, "what are we to do?"
"I don't know," said Frank.
"Let's go for Uncle Moses," said Bob, "or Michael Angelo."
"We'd better hunt up a policeman," said Clive.
"No," said Frank, "let's get Uncle Moses here first. You go, Bob;
and be quick, or else those other beggars'll be back here and
release him."
Upon this Bob set out, and the others guarded the prisoner. Bob
was not gone long, however, but soon returned in company with Uncle
Moses. Bob had found him at the inn, and in a breathless way had
told him all, but he had scarcely understood it; and as he now came
upon the scene, he looked around in wonder, and seemed utterly
bewildered. Had he found his beloved boys captured by bandits, he
would have been shocked, but not very much surprised--for that was
the one terror of his life; but to find the tables turned, and a
bandit captured by his boys, was a thing which was so completely
opposed to all his ordinary thoughts, that he stood for a moment
fairly stupefied. Nor was it until David had told the whole story,
and thus given him a second and Davidian edition of it, that he
began to master the situation.
"Dear! dear! dear!" he cried, looking slowly at each of the boys
in succession, and then at their silent and sulky captive, "and so
you railly and truly were attacked and made prisoners by bandits.
Dear! dear! dear!"
He looked inexpressibly shocked, and for some time stood in silence
amid the loud clatter of the boys.
"Well, Uncle Moses," said Frank, at last, "what are we to do with
him?"
To this Uncle Moses made no reply. It was certainly a somewhat
puzzling inquiry; and his own life had been so peaceful and
uneventful, that the question of the best way of dealing with a
captured bandit was, very naturally, a somewhat perplexing one to
answer. He stood, therefore, with his head bent forward, his right
hand supporting his left elbow, and his left hand supporting his
forehead, while his mild eyes regarded the captive robber with a
meek and almost paternal glance, and his mind occupied itself in
weighing that captives destiny.
"Well, Uncle Moses," said Frank a second time, somewhat impatiently,
"what, are we to do with him? We must do something,--and be quick
about it too,--or else the other beggars'll be back."
"Wal," said Uncle Moses, slowly and thoughtfully, "that's the very
identical pint that I'm a meditatin on. An the long an the short
of it is, that I'm beginnin to think, that the very best thing you
can do is to take your handkerchees back, and come back with me to
the inn, and get some dinner. For I've every reason to believe that
dinner's ready about this time, bein as I remember hearin a bell
a ringin jest before Bob came for me."
At this the boys stared in amazement at Uncle Moses, not knowing
what in the world to make of this.
"What do you mean," said Frank, "about our handkerchiefs, when
we've tied up the bandit with them?"
"Why," said Uncle Moses, "I think if you come you may as well bring
yer handkerchees with you--as I s'pose you prefer havin em."
"But we'd have to untie them," said Bob.
"Wal, yes," said Uncle Moses, dryly; "that follers as a nat'ral
consequence."
"What!" cried Frank, in an indignant voice, "untie him? Let him
go? And after he has nearly killed David and Clive?"
"Wal, he didn't _quite_ kill em," said Uncle Moses, turning his
eyes benignantly upon the two boys. "They seem to me jest now to
be oncommon spry--arter it all. They don't look very nigh death,
as far as appearances go. No harm's done, I guess; an so, I dare
say, we'd best jest let em go."
At this Frank looked ineffably disgusted.
"You see, boys," said Uncle Moses, "here we air, in a very peculiar
situation. What air we? Strangers and sojourners in a strange land;
don't know a word of the outlandish lingo; surrounded by beggars
and Philistines. Air there any law courts here? Air there any
lawyers? Air there any judges? I pause for a reply. There ain't
one. No. An if we keep this man tied up, what can we do with him?
We can't take him back with us in the coach. We can't keep him and
feed him at the hotel like a pet animule. I don't know whar the
lock-up is, an hain't seen a policeman in the whole place. Besides,
if we do hand this bandit over to the _po_lice, do you think it's
goin to end there? No, sir. Not it. If this man's arrested, we'll
be arrested too. We'll have to be witnesses agin him. An that's
what I don't want to do, if I can help it. My idee an aim allus is
to keep clear of the lawyers; I'd rather be imposed on; I'd rather
pay out money unjustly, be cheated, humbugged, and do any thin,
than put myself in the power of lawyers. Depend upon it, they're
as bad here as they air home. They'd have us all in jail, as
witnesses. Now, I don't want to go to jail."
The words of Uncle Moses produced a strong impression upon
the boys. Even Frank saw that handing the man over to the
authorities would involve some trouble, at least, on their
part. He hated what he called "bother." Besides, he had no
vengeful feelings against the Italian, nor had Bob. As for
David and Clive, they were the only ones who had been really
wronged by the fellow; but they were the last in the world to
harbor resentment or think of revenge. Their victory had also
made them merciful. So the end of it was, that they did
according to Uncle Moses' suggestion, and untied the bonds.
Number Six was evidently amazed. He rose to his feet, looked warily
at the party, as though expecting some new attack, then looked all
around, and then, with a bound, he sprang away, and running towards
the road, soon disappeared. The rest did not delay much longer,
but returned as soon as possible to the inn, where they found their
dinner ready. This they ate, and then drove back to Naples.
The opportune arrival of Frank and Bob was soon explained. They
had been riding on donkeys, and had seen the crowd around David
and Clive, and the struggle. Fearing some danger for their companions,
they had hastened to the spot, and reached it in time to be of
service. The adventure might have been most serious to David and
Clive; but as it happened, the results were of no very grave
character. They felt a little sore; that is all. Bob, also had a
bad bruise on his left arm; but on the whole, very little harm had
been done, nor did the boys regret afterwards that they had let
the scoundrel go free.
As for their guide, Michael Angelo, he had been busy in another
direction, during this adventure, and when he heard of it, he was
very anxious to have them arrested; but Uncle Moses, for reasons
already stated, declined to do anything.