"I am altogether pleased with the appearance of this place. It impresses me very favourably. The trees are fine, remarkably fine for Greece, and there is something very poetic in the spring of clear running water. The people too seem kindly and civil. It is decidedly an attractive place." Mrs. Forman upbraided him for his tepid praise. "Oh, it is a place in a thousand!" she cried "I could live and die here! I really would stop if I had not to be back at Athens! It reminds me of the Colonus of Sophocles." "Well, I must stop," said Ethel. "I positively must." "Yes, do! You and your father! Antigone and Oedipus. Of course you must stop at Colonus!" Mr. Lucas was almost breathless with excitement. When he stood within the tree, he had believed that his happiness would be independent of locality. But these few minutes' conversation had undeceived him. He no longer trusted himself to journey through the world, for old thoughts, old wearinesses might be waiting to rejoin him as soon as he left the shade of the planes, and the music of the virgin water. To sleep in the Khan with the gracious, kind-eyed country people, to watch the bats flit about within the globe of shade, and see the moon turn the golden patterns into silver--one such night would place him beyond relapse, and confirm him for ever in the kingdom he had regained. But all his lips could say was: "I should be willing to put in a night here." "You mean a week, papa! It would be sacrilege to put in less." "A week then, a week," said his lips, irritated at being corrected, while his heart was leaping with joy. All through lunch he spoke to them no more, but watched the place he should know so well, and the people who would so soon be his companions and friends. The inmates of the Khan only consisted of an old woman, a middle-aged woman, a young man and two children, and to none of them had he spoken, yet he loved them as he loved everything that moved or breathed or existed beneath the benedictory shade of the planes. "_En route!_" said the shrill voice of Mrs. Forman. "Ethel! Mr. Graham! The best of things must end." "To-night," thought Mr. Lucas, "they will light the little lamp by the shrine. And when we all sit together on the balcony, perhaps they will tell me which offerings they put up." "I beg your pardon, Mr. Lucas," said Graham, "but they want to fold up the rug you are sitting on." Mr. Lucas got up, saying to himself: "Ethel shall go to bed first, and then I will try to tell them about my offering too--for it is a thing I must do. I think they will understand if I am left with them alone." Ethel touched him on the cheek. "Papa! I've called you three times. All the mules are here." "Mules? What mules?" "Our mules. We're all waiting. Oh, Mr. Graham, do help my father on." "I don't know what you're talking about, Ethel." "My dearest papa, we must start. You know we have to get to Olympia to-night."