“‘The court which led to his apartment being now almost filled with stones and ashes, it would have been impossible for him, if he had continued there any longer, to have made his way out; it was thought proper, therefore, to awaken him. He got up, and joined Pompianus and the rest of the company, who had not been sufficiently unconcerned to think of going to bed. They consulted together, whether it would be most prudent to trust to the houses, which now shook from side to side, with frequent and violent concussions; or flee to the open fields, where the calcined stones and cinders, though levigated indeed, yet fell in large showers, threatening them with instant destruction. In this distress they resolved for the fields, as the less dangerous situation of the two: a resolution which, while the rest of the company were hurried into by their fears, my uncle embraced upon cool and deliberate consideration. They went out then, having pillows tied upon their heads with napkins; and this was the whole defence against the storm of stones that fell around them. “‘It was now day every where else; but _there_ a deeper darkness prevailed than in the blackest night; which was, however, in some degree, dissipated by torches and other lights of various kinds. They thought it expedient to go down further upon the shore, in order to observe if they might safely put out to sea; but they found the waves still run extremely high and boisterous. “‘There my uncle, having drunk a draught or two of cold water, laid himself down upon a sail-cloth, which was spread for him; when, immediately, the flames, preceded by a strong smell of sulphur, dispersed the rest of the company, and obliged him to rise. He raised himself with the assistance of the servants, and instantly fell down dead; suffocated, I suppose, by some great and noxious vapour, having always had weak lungs, and frequently subject to a difficulty of breathing. As soon as it was light again, which was not till the third day after this melancholy accident, his body was found entire, and without any marks of violence, exactly in the same posture in which he fell, and looking more like a man asleep than dead.’” “And what became of the younger Pliny, Sir?” asked Ann, “during this dreadful scene.” “I will give you his narration in his own words,” answered Mr. Wilmot. “‘My uncle having left us, I continued the employment which prevented my going with him, till it was time to bathe: after which, I went to supper, and then fell into a short and uneasy sleep. There had, during many days before, been some shocks of an earthquake, which the less alarmed us, as they are frequent in Campania; but they were so particularly violent that night, that they not only shook every thing about us, but seemed to threaten total destruction. My mother flew to my chamber, where she found me rising in order to awaken her. We went out into a small court belonging to the house, which separated the sea from the buildings.