“Over a hundred and fifty people! Impossible!”
“There won’t be a hundred and fifty people by the time Alcibiades is beaten,” replied Crispin dryly. “It is not that I am afraid of; but if such a contingency as the volcano becoming active does arise, my difficulty will be to get through the besieging army out into the open sea.”
“I’m afraid there’s no chance of that,” replied the Demarch gloomily.
“Well, it certainly looks impossible, but there’s nothing like trying. However, there may be no necessity for such daring. Don’t trouble about the volcano, Justinian; I’ve no doubt Hephaistos will warn us again before proceeding to extremities.”
“I am of the same opinion myself. Still, your words have given no great comfort, Crispin; for, after all the money and labor expended on this island, it would indeed be a terrible thing if it became nothing but a smoking mass of black lava, to say nothing of the destruction of my schemes.”
“You won’t tell Maurice or Helena of this?”
“No. Maurice has quite enough on his mind already, and it would only frighten Helena to death. She is brave enough at most dangers, but I think a volcanic eruption would frighten the most stout-hearted. I have to a great extent calmed the feelings of those in the village, so it will be best for you and I to keep our own counsel, and not uselessly alarm our friends.”
“I hope it is a useless alarm,” said Crispin uneasily. “But it is a very unpleasant idea to think that one is living on top of a powder-magazine which may explode at any moment.”
“As far at that goes,” answered the Demarch dryly, “the whole globe is nothing but an egg full of fire, and we all live on the surface of an explosive bombshell whirling through space, which may burst at any moment. My island is only a sample of the whole earth.”
“I wish you wouldn’t look at things in such an unpleasant light,” cried Crispin, laughing. “My nerves will be destroyed before I leave this island. However, I am going to finish my sleep.”