And in the waters of the lake reappear the white columns; the blue waves dance around the shimmering lines; the mists part above them; they rise from the lake, lingering awhile upon the woods.
'The boy lays his hands to his eyes and looks eagerly towards the temple.
Nothing.

No living creature stirs.
'Often has he been warned by his father not to venture alone within the grove of the goddess.

Twice, indeed, on the great June festivals has he witnessed the solemn sacrifices, and the crowds of worshippers, and the torches mirrored in the lake.

But without his father, fear has hitherto stayed his steps far from the temple.
'To-day, however, as the sun mounts, and the fresh breeze breaks from the sea, his youth and the wildness of it dance within his blood.

He and his goats pass into an olive garden.