But how, if he were unable to help her? And how
could he help her when these others might have Heaven knew what
resources of black art, art of all the colours of the Yaque
spectrum, if it came to that? The slim-trunked trees flew past them,
and the tender branches brushed their shoulders and hung out their
flowers like lamps. Warm wind was in their faces, sweet,
reverberant voices of the wood-things came chorusing, and ahead
there in the dimness, that misty will-o'-the-wisp was her veil,
Olivia's veil. St. George would have followed if it had led him
between-worlds.
In a manner it did lead him between-worlds. Emerging suddenly upon a
broader avenue their car followed the other aside and shot through a
great gateway of the palace wall--a wall built of such massive
blocks that the gateway formed a covered passageway. From there,
delicately lighted, greenly arched, and on this festal night, quite
deserted, went the road by which, the night before, they had entered
Med.
"Now," said St. George between set teeth, "now see what you can do,
Jarvo.
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