And now Amory, with a smile, leaned against a wall where old vines, grown miraculously in crannies, spread their tendrils upon the friendly hieroglyphic scoring of the crenelated stone, and summed up his reflections of the night.
"I've got it," he announced, "I think it was up in the Adirondacks, summer before last.

I think I was in a canoe when she went by in a launch, with the Chiswicks.

Why, do you know, I think I dreamed about Miss Frothingham for weeks." St.George smiled suddenly and radiantly, and his smile was for the sake of both Rollo and Amory--Rollo whose sense of the commonplace nothing could overpower, Amory who talked about the Chiswicks in the Adirondacks.

Why not?
St.George thought happily.

Here in the temple certain precious and delicate idols were believed to be hidden in alcoves walled up by mighty stone; and here, Jarvo was telling them, were secret exits to the road contrived by the priests of the temple at the time of their oppression by the worshipers of another god; but yet what special interest could he and Amory have in brooding upon these, or the ancient Phoenicians having "invited to traffic by a signal fire," when they could sit still and remember?
"To-night," he said aloud, feeling a sudden fellowship for both Amory and Rollo, "to-night, when the moon rises, we shall watch it from the top of the mountain." Then he wondered, many hundred times, whether Olivia could possibly have recognized him.
When the dark had fallen they set out.