Among the Brigands Part 28

All was still.

What did it mean?

"WHO'S THERE?" cried Frank a third time, in the loudest, strongest, sternest, and most menacing tone that he could compa.s.s, "SPEAK, OR I'LL FIRE!!!!!!!!!"

This tremendous threat could not have been carried out, of course, with the knives, chairs, and razor of the party below; but at any rate it brought a reply.

"Alla raight!" cried a voice. "O, yais. It's onalee me. Alla safe.

Come up here to get some straps for de vettura. Alla raight. I haf joosta come back from Velletre. Haf brot de oder vettura. Scusa de interruption, but haf to-get de straps; dey up here. Alla raight!"

It was the voice of their driver!

At the first sound of that voice there was an instantaneous and immense revulsion of feeling. The dark terror of a moment before was suddenly transformed to an absurdity. They had been making fools of themselves. They felt this very keenly. The chairs were put quietly upon the floor; the knives were pocketed very stealthily; and Uncle Moses' razor was slipped hurriedly into the breast pocket of his coat.

"O!" said-Frank, trying to speak in an easy, careless, matter-of-fact tone. "We didn't know. Shall we leave in the morning?"

"O, yais. Alla r-r-raight," said the driver.

Soon after the party descended the ladder, and took it away. The boys and Uncle Moses made no remark whatever. They all crept silently, and rather sheepishly, back to their beds, feeling very much ashamed of themselves.

And yet there was no reason for shame, for to them the danger seemed real; and believing it to be real, they had not shrunk, but had faced it with very commendable pluck.

This was the end of their troubles on the road. For the remainder of that night they slept soundly. In the morning they awaked refreshed, and found a good breakfast waiting for them. They found also another carriage, in which they entered and resumed their journey.

CHAPTER XXIV.

_A beautiful Country.--Magnificent Scenery.--The Approach to Albano.--Enthusiasm of the Boys.--Archaeology versus Appet.i.te.--The Separation of the Boys.--The Story of the Alton Lake and the ancient subterranean Channel._

As they rolled along the road on this last stage of their eventful journey, they were all in the highest spirits. On to Rome! was the watchword. It was a glorious day; the sun shone brightly from a cloudless sky; the air was pure, and brilliant, and genial, and it also had such a wonderful transparency that distant objects seemed much nearer from the distinctness with which their outlines were revealed. The road was a magnificent one,--broad, well paved, well graded,--and though for some miles it was steadily ascending, yet the ascent was made by such an easy slope, that it was really imperceptible; and they bowled along as easily and as merrily as if on level ground. Moreover, the scenery around was of the most attractive character. They were among the mountains; and though there were no snow-clad summits, and no lofty peaks lost amid the clouds, still the lowering forms that appeared on every side were full of grandeur and sublimity. Amid these the road wound, and, at every new turn some fresh scene of beauty or of magnificence was disclosed to their admiring eyes. Now it was a sequestered valley, with a streamlet running through it, and the green of its surface diversified by one or two white cottages, or the darker hue of olive groves and vineyards; again it was some little hamlet far up the sloping mountain-side; again some mouldering tower would appear, perched upon some commanding and almost inaccessible eminence--the remains of a feudal castle, the monument of lawless power overthrown forever. Sometimes they would pa.s.s through the street of a town, and have a fresh opportunity of contrasting the lazy and easy-going life of Italy with the busy, energetic, restless, and stirring life of their own far-distant America.

On to Rome!

This day was to land them in the "Eternal City;" and though they enjoyed the drive, still they were eager to have it over, and to find themselves in that place which was once the centre of the world's rule, and continued to be so for so many ages. Their impatience to reach their destination was not, however, excessive, and did not at all prevent them from enjoying to the utmost the journey so long as it lasted. Uncle Moses was the only exception.

He was most eager to have it over, and reach some place of rest.

True, no accident had happened; but he had gone through enough tribulation, both in body and in mind, to furnish the working, material for a dozen very serious accidents indeed; and the general effect produced upon him was precisely what might have resulted from a really perilous journey.

At length they arrived at the town of Albano, where they intended to remain two hours, and afterwards resume their journey. The town stood on the side of a hill, and the hotel at which they drew up was so situated that it commanded a boundless view.

Few places cherish a stronger local pride than Albano. Tradition identifies this town with no less a place than Alba Longa, so famous in early Roman legends; for though, according to the old accounts, Tullus Hostilius destroyed the city proper of Alba Longa, yet afterwards another town grew on its site, and all around rose up the splendid villas of the Roman n.o.bility. Here, too, Tiberius and Domitian had palaces, where they sought relaxation from the cares of empire in a characteristic way.

On reaching this place, their first care was to order dinner, and then, as there would be some time taken up in preparation for that meal, they looked about for some mode of pastime. The landlord recommended to them a visit to a convent at the top of the hill.

He informed them that it stood on the site of a famous temple, and that it was visited every day by large numbers of travellers. On, referring to their guide-book, the boys learned that the temple referred to by the landlord was that of the Latian Jupiter.

As they had nothing else to do, they set out for the convent, and soon reached it. Arriving there, they found spread out before them a view which surpa.s.sed anything that they had ever seen in their lives. Far down beneath them descended the declivity of the Alban hill, till it terminated in the Roman Campagna. Then, far away before their eyes it spread for many a mile, till it was terminated by a long blue line, which it needed not the explanation of the monk at their elbow to recognize as the Mediterranean; and this blue line of distant sea spread far away, till it terminated in a projecting promontory, which their guide told them was the Cape of Terracina. But their attention was arrested by an object which was much nearer than this. Through that gray Campagna,--whose gray hue, the result of waste and barrenness, seemed also to mark its h.o.a.ry age,--through this there ran a silver thread, with many a winding to and fro, now coming full into view, and gleaming in the sun, now retreating, till it was lost to sight.

"What is this?" asked David.

"The Tiber!" said the monk.

At the mention of this august historic name, a thrill involuntarily pa.s.sed through them. The Tiber! What a.s.sociations cl.u.s.tered around that word!

Along this silver thread their eyes wandered, till at length it was lost for a time in a dark, irregular ma.s.s of something. The atmosphere just now had grown slightly hazy in this direction, so that they could not make out what this was, exactly; whether a hill, or a grove, or a town; but it looked most like a town, and the irregularities and projections seemed like towers and domes.

Prominent among these projections was one larger ma.s.s, which rose up above all the others, and formed the chief feature in that indistinct ma.s.s.

"What is all that?" asked David, in a hesitating way, like one who suspects the truth, but does not feel at all sure about it.

"Dat," said the guide, "dat is Rome; and dat black ma.s.s dat you see is de Church of St. Peter's. It's not clear to-day--some time we can see it all plain."

At this the boys said nothing, but stood in silence, looking upon the scene. It was one which might have stirred the souls of even the least emotional, and among this little company there were two, at least, who were quick to kindle into enthusiasm at the presence of anything connected with the storied past. These were David and Clive, who each, though from different causes, now felt himself profoundly moved by this spectacle. David's enthusiasm was that of a scholar; Clive's was that of a poet; yet each was keen in his susceptibility, and eloquent in the expression of his feelings.

As for Frank and Bob, they were far less demonstrative; and though they had plenty of enthusiasm of their own, yet it was not often excited very violently by either poetic feeling or cla.s.sical reminiscences. The scene before them certainly moved their feelings also, on the present occasion; but they were not in the habit of indulging in exclamatory language, and so they looked on in quiet appreciation, without saying anything.

Not so the other two, David and Clive. Each burst forth in his own way.

"How magnificent!" cried Clive. "What a boundless scene! How fortunate we are to have our first view of Rome! I don't believe there is such another sight in all the world. But what a scene must have appeared from these heights when Rome was in its glory!"

"Yes," said David, chiming in, "such a place doesn't exist anywhere else in all the world. It's the cradle of history, and modern civilization. Here is where the mighty Roman empire began. There is the Rome of the kings and the consuls; and down there is the arena, where they fought out that long battle that arranged the course of future ages."

"Besides," said Clive; "there is the scene of all the latter part of the Aeneid, and of all the immortal legends that arose out of the early growth of Rome. What a place this would be to read Macaulay's Lays of Ancient Rome!--

"Hail to the great asylum!

Hail to the hill-tops seven!

Hail to the fire that burns for aye!

And the s.h.i.+elds that fell from heaven!"

At this moment Frank's attention was attracted to a place not very far away, where the sheen of some silver water flashed forth from amid the dark green hue of the surrounding hills.

"What is that?" he asked of the guide. "It looks like a lake."

"It is de Alban Lake."

"The Alban Lake!" cried David, in a fresh transport of enthusiasm; "the Alban Lake! What, the lake that the Romans drained at the siege of Veii?"

"It is de same," said the guide.

"Is it really? and is the ca.n.a.l or tunnel still in existence?

"It is."

"Is it far away?"

"Not ver far."

"Boys, we must go there. It is the greatest curiosity of the country about here."