half
overhung their path, and then, swift and intolerably bright, the forked
lightning darted across their very eyes, and was swallowed up by the
increasing darkness.

'Swifter, good Carrucarius!' cried Glaucus to the driver; 'the tempest
comes on apace.'

The slave urged on the mules--they went swift over the uneven and stony
road--the clouds thickened, near and more near broke the thunder, and
fast rushed the dashing rain.

'Dost thou fear?' whispered Glaucus, as he sought excuse in the storm to
come nearer to Ione.

'Not with thee,' said she, softly.

At that instant, the carriage, fragile and ill-contrived (as, despite
their graceful shapes, were, for practical uses, most of such inventions
at that time), struck violently into a deep rut, over which lay a log of
fallen wood; the driver, with a curse, stimulated his mules yet faster
for the obstacle, the wheel was torn from the socket, and the carriage
suddenly overset.

Glaucus, quickly extricating himself from the vehicle, hastened to
assist Ione, who was fortunately unhurt; with some difficulty they
raised the carruca (or carriage), and found that it ceased any longer
even to afford them shelter; the springs that fastened the covering were
snapped asunder, and the rain poured fast and fiercely into the
interior.

In this dilemma, what was to be done? They were yet some distance from
the city--no house, no aid, seemed near.

'There is,' said the slave, 'a smith about a mile off; I could seek him,
and he might fasten at least the wheel to the carruca--but, Jupiter! how
the rain beats; my mistress will be wet before I come back.'

'Run thither at least,' said Glaucus; 'we must find the best shelter we
can till you return.'

The lane was overshadowed with trees, beneath the amplest of which
Glaucus drew Ione. He endeavored, by stripping his own cloak, to shield
her yet more from the rapid rain; but it descended with a fury that
broke through all puny obstacles: and suddenly, while Glaucus was yet
whispering courage to his beautiful charge, the lightning struck one of
the trees immediately before them, and split with a mighty crash its
huge trunk in twain. This awful incident apprised them of the danger
they braved in their present shelter, and Glaucus looked anxiously round
for some less perilous place of refuge. 'We are now,' said he,
'half-way up the ascent of Vesuvius; there ought to be some cavern, or
hollow in the vine-clad rocks, could we but