We returned toward the cone, and approached within dangerous proximity
to it. The volcano-girl often pulled my arm to induce me to keep back;
but when she saw I was determined to look down into the horrid flaming
gulf of fire that yawned near the cone, she followed me, murmuring a low
pensive song. On reaching the edge, which was uncertain and trembling, I
halted and gazed; and while the guide and my companions shouted to me to
come back, enjoyed a moment of fearful joy. I was standing on the brink
of a vast chasm of fire, in which no flame was, but only a dreadful
glow, that thickened by distance into substance. The wind shrieked
around, the volcano roared above, the tremendous cloud of black smoke
swayed and wavered as it rolled, beaten down by the wind to the outer
edge of the crater, like a vast snake, or, when the blast for a moment
ceased, towered aloft like an evil genius, and dispersed amid the
clouds.

"Come back! come back!" cried Ghita, as the smoky pile of cinders
trembled beneath us, and we both, panic-stricken, rushed to a surer
footing, while the point we had occupied slided into the gulf of fire! I
never shall forget that moment. The very memory of it makes my hair
stand on end, and a cold perspiration burst out over my whole body. The
girl clasped my hand convulsively as we ran, and when we stood again on
the hot solid lava, uttered a low, "Dio grazia!" All this was unlike
folly, and, together with our companionship in danger, heightened the
interest I felt in my wild-looking, beautiful guide.

We all returned toward the edge of the crater, and collected in a
lava-cave to light torches for our journey back. Here we met two or
three men armed with guns, who professed to be guards, and might have
been brigands. One of them spoke rather roughly to the volcano-girl, who
took refuge by my side, and would not quit it. We started again by the
light of great flaring torches, and soon began the descent down a dusty
decline. It was a strange, rapid piece of work. The whole party ran,
rushed, tumbled, slid, rolled down in one confused crowd, the torches
glaring, flakes of burning pitch scattering here and there, the
palanquin bobbing up and down, the mountain sloping up to the clouds
behind, and down into darkness before. We descended this time into the
old crater--a great plain of dust and pumice-stone. All was gloomy
around; but the lights of Naples and Portici could be distinguished in
the distance.

Our ho