From Children of the Lamp #7: The Grave Robbers of Genghis Khan John had never experienced an earthquake before and all earlier thoughts that he would like to know what one felt like were now quite forgotten. "We have to get outside," he yelled at Groanin. "In case the building comes down on our heads." "I know that, you young scamp," growled the butler. "I wasn't born yesterday, more's the pity." Most of the guests walked quickly toward the safety of the poolside and the hotel's extensive gardens and orange groves. John and Groanin would probably have followed them too but for the fact that they caught sight of Nimrod and Philippa heading out onto the terrace at the back of the hotel. It hardly seemed like the safest place given the height of the cliff below the terrace railing. "Sir," Groanin called. "We shall perish if we remain here. At any moment this whole flipping terrace might collapse and land us in the sea. Surely caution dictates that we should follow the rest of the guests into the garden." John pointed across the Bay of Naples at Vesuvius. "Look, there," he said, quietly. Groanin stared out to sea and saw that from the four thousand foot high summit of Vesuvius - so quiet and unremarkable the previous day - a long thin gray plume of smoke was now drifting up into the violet-blue sky. Excerpted from The Grave Robbers of Genghis Khan by P. B. Kerr All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.