ngly delicate,
unfailing beautiful, quietly, almost gently, noble. In the distance,
when he turned his head, Dion could see the little Albanian village of
Marathon, a huddle of tiny houses far off under the hills. He looked at
it for a moment, then again looked out over the plain, rejoicing in
its emptiness. Along the sea edge the cattle were straying, but their
movements were almost imperceptible. Still they were living things and
drew Dion's eyes. The life in them sent out its message to the life in
him, and he earnestly watched them grazing. Their vague and ruminating
movements really emphasized the profound peace which lay around Rosamund
and him. To watch them thus was a savoring of peace. For every contented
animal is a bearer of peaceful tidings. In the Garden of Eden with the
Two there were happy animals. And Dion recalled the great battle which
had dyed red this serene wilderness, a battle which was great because
it had been gently sung, lifted up by the music of poets, set on high
by the lips of orators. He looked over the land and thought: "Here
Miltiades won the name which has resounded through history. To that
shore, where I see the cattle, the Persians were driven." And it
seemed to him that the battle of Marathon had been fought in order that
Rosamund and he, in the nineteenth century, might be drawn to this place
to meet the shining afternoon. Yes, it was fought for that, and to make
this place the more wonderful for them. It was their Garden of Eden
consecrated by History.

What a very small animal that was which had strayed away from its kind
over the tawny ground where surely there was nothing to feed upon! The
little dark body of it looked oddly detached as it moved along. And
now another animal was following it quickly. The arrival of the second
darkness, running, made Dion know that the first was human, the guardian
of the beasts, no doubt.

So Eden was invaded already! He smiled as he thought of the serpent. The
human being came on slowly, always moving in the direction of the mound,
and always accompanied by its attendant animal--a dog, of course. Soon
Dion knew that both were making for the mound. It occurred to him
that Rosamund was in the private room of him who was approaching, was
possibly sound asleep there.

"Rosamund!" he almost whispered.

There was no answer.

"Rosamund!" he murmured, looking upward to his roof, which was her
floor.

"Hush!" came down to him through the brushwoo