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My belongings seemed undisturbed; a vague idea that Spawn might have seized this opportunity to ransack them had come to me. But it seemed not; though if he had he would have found nothing. I stood for a moment listening at my patio window. I could see the kitchen from here; there was no one in it. I started back for the living room. That furtive instinct was still on me. I made no noise.
The path to victory is straight, and little danger lurketh there." Almost ere these words had fallen from his lips, loud shouting sounded at the door that gave entrance to the patio wherein we stood, and we were startled to notice a scuffle taking place between a number of those who were about to guard the house and some would-be intruders.
And then, when we have caught our breath, let us wander into any one of the patios along the Golden Horn, and feast our eyes on columns of verd-antique, supporting arches light as rainbows, framing the patio of the Pigeon Mosque, the loveliest of all the patios I know, and let us run our eyes around that Moorish square.
Past the patio lay the courtyard, all one large garden, with tiled walks and red-gold oranges and heavy foliage set against the blue sky. Broad date-palms, mimosa, and climbing creepers sometimes shook in a breath of wind.
Monipodio also began to pace up and down the patio, and, as he did so, he questioned the new disciples as to their trade, their birthplace, and their parents.
"Thanks, Spawn." I wondered if there were irony in his voice as he said good night. No one could have told. I did not go to bed. I sat listening to the silence of my room and the garden, and Spawn's retreating footsteps. He had said he was sleepy, but nevertheless I presently heard him across the patio. He was apparently in the kitchen, cleaning away our meal, to judge by the rattling of his pans.
But to-night Father Zalvidea decided to put the box in a safer place. Going to the window, and drawing aside the curtain, he opened it. Listening intently for a moment, and hearing nothing, he returned to the table, lighted a small dark lantern, extinguished the candle, and taking up the box after closing and locking it, he left the room, and walked softly through the passage out into the patio.
Annesley never failed to hear him return, though she gave no sign. And sometimes she would peep through the slats of her green shutters on one side of the patio at the windows of his bedroom and "office," which were opposite.
After a broiling day the sun was now beginning to lose a little of his terrific power, and, in the shade of the patio upon which the windows of Julia's room opened, the air was quite cool and pleasant. A fountain plashed continuously in a little basin that had been white six centuries ago, when the Moors had brought the marble across the Gulf of Lyons to build it.
Curved pedimented gables. Terraced towers, surmounted by a lantern. Pierced Campanile, either in tower or wall. Broad, unbroken, mural masses. Wide, overhanging eaves. Long, low, sloping roofs covered with red clay tiles. Patio, or inner court.
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