n every side.

"A heretic! A heretic! A blasphemer! He has insulted us!"

Buttons saw that a bold stroke alone could save them. He burst into
the midst of the throng followed by Dick.

"Fly!" he cried. "Fly for your lives! _It is a madman_! Fly! Fly!"

A loud cry of terror arose. Instantaneous conviction flashed on the
minds of all. A madman! Yes. He could be nothing else.

A panic arose. The people recoiled from before that terrible madman.
Buttons sprang up to the loft. He seized the Senator's arm and dragged
him down. The people fled in horror. As the Senator emerged he saw
seven hundred and eighty-three good people of Sorrento scampering away
like the wind across the square in front of the cathedral.

On reaching the hotel he told his story. He had been peering about
in search of useful information, and had entered the cathedral.
After going through every part he went up into the organ-loft. Just
then the singers came. Instead of going out like a man, he dodged
them from some absurd cause or other, with a half idea that he would
get into trouble for intruding. The longer he stayed the worse it
was for him. At last he saw Buttons and Dick enter, and tried to
make signals.

"Well," said Buttons, "we had better leave. The Sorrentonians will be
around here soon to see the maniac. They will find out all about him,
and make us acquainted with Lynch law."

In a quarter of an hour more they were on their way back to Naples.

CHAPTER XII.

HERCULANEUM AND POMPEII, AND ALL THAT THE SIGHT OF THOSE FAMOUS PLACES
PRODUCED ON THE MINDS OF THE DODGE CLUB.

They had already visited Herculaneum, but the only feeling which had
been awakened by the sight of that ill-fated city was one of
unmitigated disgust. As honesty was the chief characteristic of the
whole party, they did not hesitate to express themselves with the
utmost freedom on this subject. They hoped for better things from
Pompeii. At any rate Pompeii was above ground; what might be there
would be visible. No fuss with torches. No humbugging with lanterns.
No wandering through long black passages. No mountains bringing forth
mice.

Their expectations were encouraged as they walked up the street of
Tombs leading to the Herculaneum Gate. Tombs were all around, any
quantity, all sizes, little black vaults full of pigeon-holes. These
they narrowly examined, and when the guide wasn't looking they filled
their pockets with the ashes of the dead.

"Stran