3 The spirit of a hero

CHAPTER III The spirit of a hero Not everyone was so concerned for their safety. Across the bay from Pompeii, Pliny the Elder- scholar and admiral of the fleet at Misenum- stood at the window of his house. He pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders. In the distance he could see a column of smoke emerging from Mount Vesuvius, high above sea level.

With each passing hour, the plume of smoke streaming out of the volcano had become larger and more ominous. This hadn't prevented him from keeping to his usual routine: a cold bath followed by a light lunch of bread, figs, and olives, sitting beneath the mural of Venus of the Shell on the dining room wall. Even his nephew, Pliny the Younger, seemed happy to continue calmly with his studies.

Eventually, a slave came into the room to clear away the lunch things. Without turning from the window, Pliny gave him an order: "Get a ship ready for me. Right away, please." He continued gazing at the smoke that was now hanging over the town like a coud. "Out into the bay. I want to get a closer look." The slave hesitated, wondering if he was brave enough to question his master. "Are you sure?" he asked. Pliny turned from the window. With the light behind him, it was impossible for the slave to make out the expression on his master's face. He could not see the animated glint in the old man's eye that indicated neither fear nor dread. Pliny only felt excitement. "Of course I'm sure."

Pliny emerged from the house, followed by a small group. Suddenly his sister ran out of the house and broke through the crowd to bar his way. "Don't try to stop me," he said gently. "No, no. This came for you," she panted. thrusting a rolled up papyrus message into his hand. Looking at his sister suspiciously, Pliny the Elder unfurled the papyrus and carefully read its contents: Help! Send a boat for me! Can you see it? Vesuvius is exploding and pumice stones are raining down on us. I need to get away! Your friend Rectina.

"A change of plan," muttered Pliny, still studying the note. His sister let out a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness you've come to your senses, I was so worried about you." But he ignored his sister and looked up at the captain who had been waiting patiently for his orders. "Fortune befriends the brave: we'll set sail right away." Only Pliny could see the nervous twitch that had started up in the captain's eye. "Where are we going?" asked the captain. "To Pompeii, of course!" No one dared suggest Pliny abandon his plan. No one wanted to look like a coward. It was time for action.

Led by Pliny the Elder, a group of men walked purposefully towards the jetty where the ships were waiting to take them right into the shadow of Vesuvius. As they climbed aboard, trying not to look down at the water below them, only a few of the men noticed the unusually choppy sea. Pliny the Younger and his mother stood at the edge of the jetty, holding on to each other and waving as Pliny the Elder set sail towards danger. They did not know that they would never see him again.