ar
emerged in the court of the palace, Olivia knew nothing of it and,
as nearly as he could recall afterward, neither did St. George. He
understood that the courtyard was filled with murmurs, and that as
Olivia was lifted from the car the voice of Mrs. Medora Hastings, in
all its excesses of tone and pitch, was tilted in a kind of
universal reproving. Then he was aware that Jarvo, beseeching him
not to leave the motor, had somehow got him away from all the tumult
and the questioning and the crush of the other motors setting
tardily off down the avenue in a kind cf majestic pursuit of the
princess. After that he remembered nothing but the grateful gloom of
the wood and the swift flight of the car down that nebulous way,
thin darkness flowing about him.

He was to go back to join Amory in some kind of tower, he knew; and
he was infinitely resigned, for he remembered that this was in some
way essential to his safety, and that it had to do with the ascent
of Mount Khalak to-morrow night. For the rest St. George was certain
of nothing save that he was floating once more in a sea of light,
with the sweet of the world flowing in his veins; and upon his arm
and against his shoulder he could still feel the thrill of the
pressure of Olivia's head.

The genie had come out of the jar--and never, never would he go
back.

CHAPTER XIII

THE LINES LEAD UP

In the late hours of the next afternoon Rollo, with a sigh, uncoiled
himself from the shadow of the altar to the god Melkarth, in the
Ilex Temple, and stiffly rose. Vicissitudes were not for Rollo, who
had not fathomed the joys of adaptability; and the savour of the
sweet herbs which, from Jarvo's wallet, he had that day served, was
forgotten in his longing for a drop of tarragan vinegar and a bulb
of garlic with which to dress the herbs. His lean and shadowed face
wore an expression of settled melancholy.

"Sorrow's nothing," he sententiously observed. "It's trouble that
does for a man, sir."

St. George, who lay at full length on a mossy sill of the king's
chapel counting the hours of his inaction, continued to look out
over the glistening tops of the ilex trees.

"Speaking of trouble," he said, "what would you say, Rollo, to
getting back to the yacht to-night, instead of going up the mountain
with us?"

Rollo dropped his eyes, but his face brightened under, as it were,
his never-lifted mask.

"Oh, sir," he said humbly, "a person is always willing to do
wha