The volcanic dust had cleared away to a great degree and over toward Mont Pelee, which arose majestically before them, only a small black cloud hovered.
“There is the smoking mountain,” said the professor. “It doesn’t look very alarming.”
The Vendee was not making over six knots an hour, the engineer deeming it best not to strain the engine too greatly, so as they passed along the coast they could see the shipping of the island and the various industries. At one point they beheld a large smoking ruin close to the water’s edge.
“That was a sugar factory—the Guerin,” said the captain, in French. “It has been burnt down. And see, the houses around it have been burnt down too.”
“The whole district is burnt down!” cried Professor Strong. “There has been a serious calamity of some sort here. It looks to me as if the volcano had become active. See the wreckage drifting along the beach.”
“We shall soon know,” answered the commander of the steamer.
He turned to give some orders to his mate, leaving the boys and the professor standing at the rail. Scarcely had he disappeared when a fearful explosion in the distance burst upon the ears of all on board. The noise was so great that it almost stunned them.
“Oh, what’s that?” cried Sam.
“Look! look!” yelled Darry. “The volcano!”
“The volcano! The volcano!” came the cry from all over the steamer. No one could say more than that, for there was not time, nor was there need. One look in the direction of Mont Pelee was enough to stagger the stoutest heart.