The Pleiades, Orion, and the Southern Cross, blazing
down with inconceivable brilliance, were caught and held captive in
the cup of this nearer sky.
"It is like this at night," Olivia said, "but we see nothing in the
daytime, save the vague outlines of here and there a star. But how
could he have known? There is no other door save this."
The old man had followed them and stood, his eyes fixed on the
shining points.
"It is done well," he said softly, "it makes one feel the
firmament."
St. George, thrilling with the strangeness of what he saw, and the
strangeness of being there with Olivia and this weird old man of the
mountain, turned toward him almost fearfully. How did he know,
indeed?
"Ah well," he said, striving to reassure her, "I've no doubt he has
wandered in here some evening, while you were at dinner. No doubt--"
He stopped abruptly, his eyes fixed on the old man's hand. For as he
lifted it St. George had thought that something glittered. Without
hesitation he caught the old man's arm about the wrist, and turned
his hand in his own palm.
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