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-by upon the road to Med, there was nothing
remarkable in the aspect of the three companions. All that was
remarkable was the adventure upon which they were bound, and nobody
could possibly have guessed that.
Almost a mile lay between them and the point where the ascent of
the mountain was to be begun. The road which they were taking
followed at the foot of the embankment which girt the island, and it
led them at last to a stretch of arbourescent heath, piled with
black basaltic rocks. Here, where the light was dim like the glow
from light reflected upon low clouds, they took their way among
great branching cacti and nameless plants that caught at their
ankles. A strange odour rose from the earth, mineral, metallic, and
the air was thick with particles stirred by their feet and more
resembling ashes than dust.
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