And now Amory,
with a smile, leaned against a wall where old vines, grown
miraculously in crannies, spread their tendrils upon the friendly
hieroglyphic scoring of the crenelated stone, and summed up his
reflections of the 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.
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