"These men say we must pay five piastres each to them for strolling about their ground, and b.u.t.tons has told this big fellow that he will give them five kicks each. There'll be some kind of a fight. They belong to the Camorra." d.i.c.k said all this in a hurried under-tone.

"Camorry, what's that--brigands?"

"All the same."

"They're not armed, anyhow."

Just at this moment b.u.t.tons said something which seemed to sting the Italians to the soul, for with a wild shout they rushed forward. The Doctor drew out his revolver. Instantly d.i.c.k s.n.a.t.c.hed it from him, and rushing forward, drove back the foremost. None of them were armed.

"Stand off!" he cried, in Italian. "The fight is between this big fellow and my friend. If any one of you interferes I'll put a bullet through him."

The Italians fell back cursing. b.u.t.tons instantly divested himself of his coat, vest, and collar. The Italian waited with a grim smile.

At one end were the Senator, the Doctor, Mr. Figgs; at the other the Italian ruffians. In the middle b.u.t.tons and his big antagonist. Near them d.i.c.k with his pistol.

The scene that followed had better be described in d.i.c.k's own words, as he pencilled them in his memorandum-book, from time to time, keeping a sharp lookout with his pistol also. Afterward the description was retouched:

_Great mill at Paestum, between E. b.u.t.tONS, Esq., Gentleman, and Italian party called BEPPO_.

_1st Round_.--Beppo defiant, no att.i.tude at all. b.u.t.tons a.s.sumed an elegant pose. Beppo made a succession of wild strokes without any aim, which were parried without effort. After which b.u.t.tons landed four blows, one on each peeper, one on the smeller, and one on the mug.

_First blood for b.u.t.tons_. Beppo considerably surprised. Rushed furiously at b.u.t.tons, arms flying everywhere, struck over b.u.t.tons's head. b.u.t.tons lightly made obeisance, and then fired a hundred-pounder on Beppo's left auricular, which had the effect of bringing him to the gra.s.s. _First knock down for b.u.t.tons_.

_2nd Round_.--Foreign population quite dumbfounded. Americans amused but not excited. One hundred to one on b.u.t.tons eagerly offered, but no takers. Beppo jumped to his feet like a wild cat. Eyes encircled with ebon aurioles, olfactory quite demolished. Made a rush at b.u.t.tons, who, being a member of the Dodge Club, dodged him, and landed a rattler on the jugular, which again sent foreign party to gra.s.s.

_3d Round_.--Nimble to the scratch. Beppo badly mashed and raving.

b.u.t.tons unscathed and laughing; Beppo more cautious made a faint attempt to get into b.u.t.tons. No go. Tried a little sparing, which was summarily ended by a cannonade from b.u.t.tons directly in his countenance.

_4th Round_.--Foreigners wild. Yelling to their man to go in. Don't understand a single one of the rules of the P.R. Very benighted.

Need missionaries. Evinced strong determination to go in themselves, but where checked by att.i.tude of referee, who threatened to blow out brains of first man that interfered. Beppo's face magnified considerably. Appearance not at all prepossessing. Much distressed but furious. Made a bound at b.u.t.tons, who calmly, and without any apparent effort, met him with a terrific upper cut, which made the Italian's gigantic frame tremble like a ship under the stroke of a big wave. He tottered, and swung his arms, trying to regain his balance, when another annihilator most cleanly administered by b.u.t.tons laid him low.

A great tumult rose among the foreigners. Beppo lay panting with no determination to come to the scratch. At the expiration of usual time, opponent not appearing. b.u.t.tons was proclaimed victor. Beppo very much mashed. Foreigners very greatly cowed. After waiting a short time b.u.t.tons resumed his garments and walked off with his friends.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Mill At Paestum.]

After the victory the travellers left Paestum on their return.

The road that turns off to Sorrento is the most beautiful in the world. It winds along the sh.o.r.e with innumerable turnings, climbing hills, descending into valleys, twining around precipices. There are scores of the prettiest villages under the sun, ivy-covered ruins, frowning fortresses, lofty towers, and elegant villas.

At last Sorrento smiles out from a valley which is proverbial for beauty, where, within its shelter of hills, neither the hot blast of midsummer nor the cold winds of winter can ever disturb its repose. This is the valley of perpetual spring, where fruits forever grow, and the seasons all blend together, so that the same orchard shows trees in blossom and bearing fruit.

CHAPTER X.

ON THE WATER, WHERE b.u.t.tONS SEES A LOST IDEA AND GIVES CHASE TO IT, TOGETHER WITH THE HEART-SICKENING RESULTS THEREOF.

On the following morning b.u.t.tons and d.i.c.k went a little way out of town, and down the steep cliff toward the sh.o.r.e.

It was a cla.s.sic spot. Here was no less a place than the cave of Polyphemus, where Homer, at least, may have stood, if Ulysses didn't.

And here is the identical stone with which the giant was wont to block up the entrance to his cavern.

The sea rolled before. Away down to the right was Vesuvius, starting from which the eye took in the whole wide sweep of the sh.o.r.e, lined with white cities, with a background of mountains, till the land terminated in bold promontories.

Opposite was the Isle of Capri.

Myriads of white sails flashed across the sea. One of these arrested the attention of b.u.t.tons, and so absorbed him that he stared fixedly at it for half an hour without moving.

At length an exclamation burst from him:

"By Jove! It is! It is!"

"What is? What is?"

"The Spaniards!"

"Where?"

"In that boat."

"Ah!" said d.i.c.k, coolly, looking at the object pointed out by b.u.t.tons.

It was an English sail-boat, with a small cabin and an immense sail. In the stern were a gentleman and two ladies. b.u.t.tons was confident that they were the Spaniards.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Spaniards.]

"Well," said d.i.c.k, "what's the use of getting so excited about it?"

"Why, I'm going back to Naples by water!"

"Are you? Then I'll go too. Shall we leave the others?"

"Certainly not, if they want to come with us."

Upon inquiry they found that the others had a strong objection to going by sea. Mr. Figgs preferred the ease of the carriage. The Doctor thought the sea air injurious. The Senator had the honesty to confess that he was afraid of seasickness. They would not listen to persuasion, but were all resolutely bent on keeping to the carriage.

b.u.t.tons exhibited a feverish haste in searching after a boat. There was but little to choose from among a crowd of odd-looking fishing-boats that crowded the sh.o.r.e. However, they selected the cleanest from among them, and soon the boat, with her broad sail spread, was darting over the sea.

The boat of which they went in pursuit was far away over near the other sh.o.r.e, taking long tacks across the bay. b.u.t.tons headed his boat so as to meet the other on its return tack.

It was a magnificent scene. After exhausting every sh.o.r.e view of Naples, there is nothing like taking to the water. Every thing then appears in a new light. The far, winding cities that surround the sh.o.r.e, the white villages, the purple Apennines, the rocky isles, the frowning volcano.