"Well," said he, "I believe I have got a few little stones, just two or three, you know; little relics, you know."
"Ah! ver good, ver nais," said the official, with the sunshine of perfect content illuminating his sallow features. "And you, sare?" he continued, turning to Clive.
"Well, yes," said Clive, "I've got a few, I believe; but they really don't amount to anything in particular."
"O, no, not at all," said the Italian; "dey don't amount to notin; but look you, de govairement haf made de law dat no pairson will take no stone, nor steek, nor relique, nor bone, nor souvenir, from Pompeii. You mus geef dem all oop."
"Why? They're only two or three," pleaded David, in a heartbroken voice.
"So, dat is eet. Look you. Eet ees de law. O, yais. I cannot help. Everybody will take two or tree. Very well. Ten tousand, twenty tousand, hundred tousand come here every year, and all take away hundred tousand pocket full. Ah, ha! See you? What den? Why, den all Pompeii be carried away. Aha! dat great shame. Too bad, hey? ha? You ondstand. So you sall gif dem all oop into my hand."
David and Clive remonstrated most vehemently, but the official was obdurate. He pleaded the law. He insisted on the full restoration of everything.
So the two lads began to disgorge, with the following result:—
1 piece of brick from the Sidewalk. 1 bit of stone, Street. 1 stucco, Basilica. 1 do. Temple Venus. 1 do. Forum. 1 do. Temple Jupiter. 1 bit of stone, Public Bakery. 1 do. Sentry box. 1 do. Wall. 1 do. Gateway. 1 do. Street Tombs. 1 do. Villa Diomede. 1 do. do. 1 bone, Sepulchre. 1 do. do. 1 package dust, do. 1 do. Villa Sallust. 1 do. do. 1 pebble, Eating House. 1 do. House of Dioscuri. 1 bit of plaster, Pantheon. 1 do. Temple Mercury. 1 do. do. Isis. 1 brick, Tragic Theatre. 1 do. Comic Theatre. 1 stone, Amphitheatre. 1 do. do.
The above is by no means a complete inventory of, the articles produced by Clive and David, but will serve to give an idea of the nature of that heap which was spread upon the table before the stern officials. One by one they were turned out from the well-filled pockets of David and Clive. Slowly and reluctantly, the two boys turned out those precious treasures. Sadly and mournfully they laid them on the table, under the stern, the inflexible, the relentless gaze of the three inexorable custodians, who, to David's mind, seemed the impersonations of Minos, Aeacus, and Rhadamanthus. Yea, all these, and many more,—fragments from houses, bits of mosaic stone, little chips,—all were seized, and all were confiscated. Not a word was spoken. It was a sorrow too strong for words; and Minos, Aeacus, and Rhadamanthus stood, individually and collectively, inflexible and inexorable. The rueful countenances of the two culprits excited the sympathy and pity of their companions; but it seemed a case where no help could avail them. Frank and Bob looked upon the scene with a strong desire to interfere in some way, and Uncle Moses looked quite as distressed as either David or Clive. Suddenly a new actor entered upon the scene.