Far below a lagoon caught the late light and spread it in
a pattern among hidden green. In the midst of the valley towered the
mountain whose summit, royally crowned by shining towers, had been
visible from the open sea. At its feet, glittering in the abundant
light shed upon its white wall and dome and pinnacle, stood Med, the
King's City--but its light was not the light of the day, for that
was gone; nor of the moon, not risen; and no false lights vexed the
dark. Yet he was looking into a cup of light, as clear as the light
in a gazing-crystal and of a quality as wholly at variance with
reality. The rocky coast of Yaque was literally a massive, natural
wall; and girt by it lay the heart of the island, fertile and
populous and clothed in mystery. This new face which Nature turned
to him was a glorified face, and some way _it meant what he meant_.
St. George was off for a few steps, trampling impatiently over the
coarse grass of the bank. Somewhere in that dim valley--was she
there, was she there? Was she in trouble, did she need him, did she
think of him? St.
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