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The voyage slipped away with the unnoticed swiftness that is the child of monotony. The Southern Cross shone above the ship. When the great heat set in the men were allowed to sleep on deck, and Dion lay all night long under the wheeling stars, and often thought of the stars above Drouva, and heard Rosamund's voice saying, "I can see the Pleiades." The ship crossed the line.
But Rosamund was beginning to assume a certain vital importance in his quiet life. The green light faded into a very dim primrose; the music of the sheep-bells drew near and died away among the small houses of the hamlet at the foot of the hill of Drouva; Elis withdrew itself into the obscurity that would last till the late coming of the waning moon.
Do you remember the Doric boy?" And off went the conversation to the hills of Drouva, and never came back to Turkey. When Friday dawned Dion thought of his appointment for Saturday afternoon at the gymnasium in the Harrow Road, and began to wish he had not made it. Rosamund had not mentioned Mrs.
I thought of something near Welsley." "So that you could go in to Cathedral service when 'The Wilderness' was sung!" He had smiled as he had said it, but his own reference to Rosamund's once-spoken-of love of the wilderness had, in a flash, brought the hill of Drouva before him, and he had faced man's tragedy remembered joys of the past in a shadowed present. "Go into the country, Rose.
Abruptly he was released from his frozen detachment; tears sprang into his eyes, memories surged up in his mind memories of a land not very far from this land; of the maidens of the Porch; of the hill of Drouva kept by the stars and the sleeping winds; of Zante dreaming of the sunset; of Hermes keeping watch over the child in the green recesses of Elis. "Why do I come here?
Robin, whose other name was Gabriel, arrived at the "little house," of which Rosamund had spoken to Dion upon the hill of Drouva, early in the following year, on the last night of February to be exact. For a long time before his coming his future home had been subtly permeated by an atmosphere of expectancy.
One afternoon they and the men, who formed the deeply melodious background from which their crystalline voices seemed to float forward and upward, sang "The Wilderness" of Wesley. Rosamund listened to it, thankful that she was alone, and remembering many things, among them the green wilderness beneath the hill of Drouva. Very seldom she spoke to Dion about these excursions of hers.
She smiled on him with her warm and very human cordiality for the last time, and went away, with her companion, into the dimness towards the hill of Drouva. Then the guardian pulled the great door. It closed with a final sound. The key was turned. And Hermes was left untroubled in that world where wings grow out of the sandals.
Rosamund, bareheaded, stood on the hill of Drouva and gazed towards the sea; her arm was round her olive tree; she looked marvelously well, lithe and strong, but her face was grave, held even a hint of sadness. "Our last day here!" she said to Dion. "One more night with the stars, only one! Dion, when you brought me here, you did a dangerous thing." "Gave you opportunities for regret?
Dion remembered the falling star above Drouva. This time he was swift with a wish, but it was not a wish for his friend. They reached Hyde Park Corner just before midnight and parted there. Dion hailed a hansom, but Daventry declared with determination that he was going to walk all the way home to Phillimore Gardens. "To get up my case, to arrange things mentally," he explained.
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