"Do you remember, Glyndon, the contempt with which that old count said to us, 'You will go to Vesuvius, I suppose?
I have never been; why should I go?
You have cold, you have hunger, you have fatigue, you have danger, and all for nothing but to see fire, which looks just as well in a brazier as on a mountain.' Ha! ha! the old fellow was right." "But, Excellency," said the guide, "that is not all: some cavaliers think to ascend the mountain without our help.

I am sure they deserve to tumble into the crater." "They must be bold fellows to go alone; you don't often find such." "Sometimes among the French, signor.

But the other night--I never was so frightened--I had been with an English party, and a lady had left a pocket-book on the mountain, where she had been sketching.

She offered me a handsome sum to return for it, and bring it to her at Naples.

So I went in the evening.