e night.

"I've got it," he announced, "I think it was up in the Adirondacks,
summer before last. I think I was in a canoe when she went by in a
launch, with the Chiswicks. Why, do you know, I think I dreamed
about Miss Frothingham for weeks."

St. George smiled suddenly and radiantly, and his smile was for the
sake of both Rollo and Amory--Rollo whose sense of the commonplace
nothing could overpower, Amory who talked about the Chiswicks in the
Adirondacks. Why not? St. George thought happily. Here in the temple
certain precious and delicate idols were believed to be hidden in
alcoves walled up by mighty stone; and here, Jarvo was telling them,
were secret exits to the road contrived by the priests of the temple
at the time of their oppression by the worshipers of another god;
but yet what special interest could he and Amory have in brooding
upon these, or the ancient Phoenicians having "invited to traffic by
a signal fire," when they could sit still and remember?

"To-night," he said aloud, feeling a sudden fellowship for both
Amory and Rollo, "to-night, when the moon rises, we shall watch it
from the top of the mountain."

Then he wondered, many hundred times, whether Olivia could possibly
have recognized him.

When the dark had fallen they set out. The ilex grove was very still
save for a fugitive wind that carried faint spices, and they took a
winding way among trunks and reached the edge of the wood without
adventure. There Ulfin and another of the six carriers were waiting,
as Jarvo had expected, and it was decided that they should both
accompany Rollo down to the yacht.

Rollo handed the oil-skins to St. George and Amory, and then stood
crushing his hat in his hands, doing his best to speak.

"Look sharp, Rollo," St. George advised him, "don't step one foot
off a precipice. And tell the people on the yacht not to worry. We
shall expect to see them day after to-morrow, somewhere about. Take
care of yourself."

"Oh, sir," said Rollo with difficulty, "good-by, sir. I '_ope_
you'll be successful, sir. A person likes to succeed in what they
undertake."

Then the three went on down the glimmering way where, last night,
they had pursued the floating pennon of the veil. There were few
upon the highway, and these hardly regarded them. It occurred to St.
George that they passed as figures in a dream will pass, in the
casual fashion of all unreality, taking all things for granted. Yet,
of course, to the passers