People were holding umbrellas over their heads and plodding through the dust with seeming unconcern.

At one corner a street singer was warbling, stopping frequently to cough the lava dust from his throat or shake it from his beloved mandolin.

A procession of peasants passed, chanting slowly and solemnly a religious hymn.

At the head of the column was borne aloft a gilded statuette of the Virgin, and although Uncle John did not know it, these simple folks were trusting in the sacred image to avert further disaster from the angry mountain.
On arriving home Mr.Merrick told the girls with great elation of his new friend, and how they were to be taken aboard the launch in case of emergency.
"But how will we know when danger threatens ?" asked Louise.
While Uncle John tried to think of an answer to this puzzling query someone knocked upon the door.

The concierge was standing in the passage and beside him was a soldier in uniform, a natty cock's plume upon his beaver hat and a short carbine over his arm.
"A guard from Colonel Angeli, Signor," said the concierge, respectfully--the first respectful tone he had yet employed.
The soldier took off his hat with a flourish, and bowed low.
"He is to remain in the hotel, sir, yet will not disturb you in any way," continued the whiskered one.