The scene was certainly one of extreme beauty. The moon was hidden by
a cloud, and the prospect lighted only by the red glare of the
volcano, which hovered before and above us like the Israelites' pillar
of fire, giving us hopes of a splendid spectacle when we should at
last reach the long-wished-for crater. Presently the moon shone forth
again, and gleamed and glistened on the rain-drops and silver-grasses
till they looked like fireflies and glowworms. At last, becoming
impatient, we proceeded slowly on our way, until we met a man on
horseback, who hailed us in a cheery voice with an unmistakable
American accent. It was the landlord of the 'Volcano House,' Mr. Kane,
who, fearing from the delay that we had met with some mishap, had
started to look for us. He explained that he thought it was only his
duty to look after and help ladies visiting the volcano, and added
that he had intended going down as far as the 'Half-way House' in
search of us. It was a great relief to know that we were in the right
track, and I quite enjoyed the gallop through the dark forest, though
there was barely sufficient light to enable me to discern the horse
immediately in front of me. When we emerged from the wood, we found
ourselves at the very edge of the old crater, the bed of which, three
or four hundred feet beneath us, was surrounded by steep and in many
places overhanging sides.
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