The
windows glowed with the soft light within, but there were no guards,
no servants, no sign of any presence. For the first time, when they
reached the top of the steps, the two men hesitated.
"Personally," said Amory doubtfully, "I have never yet tapped at a
king's front door. What does one do?"
St. George looked at the long stone porches, uncovered and girt by a
parapet following the curve of the facade.
"Would you mind waiting a minute?" he said.
With that he was off along the balcony to the south--and afterward
he wondered why, and if it is true that Fate tempts us in the way
that she would have us walk by luring us with unseen roses budding
from the air.
Where the porch abruptly widened to a kind of upper terrace, like a
hanging garden set with flowering trees, three high archways opened
to an apartment whose bright lights streamed across the grass-plots.
St. George felt something tug at his heart, something that urged him
forward and caught him up in an ecstasy of triumph and hope
fulfilled.
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