She begged to be set down and stood with her hands full of the blossoms, which she repeatedly carried to her lips, tossing them to the children about her. It was an indiscriminate mass of little ones, augmented by a bevy of older girls, laden with myrrh, wheat, oats and sprigs of heliotrope. Before Kerœcia realized it, her vacant chair was filled with flowering sage and Sweet William in bloom. This language of esteem and gallantry was a tribute from some warrior priests sent to keep order and to assist in escort duty. Kerœcia and her companions wound the flower-wreaths in their hair, placed clusters of the same at their throats, and in their girdles, and carried as many more as their hands could hold. “Haille! Haille!” spearsmen and school children shouted in chorus, only desisting when the garden gates were reached, and the party halted for a final exchange of courtesies. Kerœcia turned to Orondo. “I love these kind, good-hearted people,” she said. “Small wonder that they should love thee in return. The Monbas are not the only men willing to die for thee.” The flush on his face, his earnestness of manner and speech, should have warned Kerœcia; but at that moment, she was intently examining the sculpture on the stone aqueduct, here emptying into an artificial lake. Realizing the situation, Orondo was quick to turn it to advantage. “I have a feeling of kinship with this body of water, since it is mine by right of plan and construction. The gardens are my special charge. We of Aztlan have choice of occupation, and I have sole command over this spot.” “Thou art generously endowed with the sense of the beautiful,” she returned, in appreciation. “I am curious to know why this curbing is not in straight, but in wavy lines.” “Because it is a meander imitating a river of spiritual force. The carving, also, conveys the same idea.” * * * * * The party had crossed the avenue leading from the market walls to the Temple of Neptune. The aqueduct surrounded the outside enclosure, and was built of solid sandstone and masonry, supported by arches of the same. The water in the canal came from Lake La Honda and skirted Blue Mountain. Where it emptied into Ohaba Lake, in the gardens, it made a pretty cascade over a profusion of rocks and water-plants. To the right of the market was a sun-dial, which was a colossal bronze figure of a full-armored warrior thrusting furiously at his own shadow. This statue, of perfect model and workmanship, was placed on a pivot which revolved once in every twenty-four hours. At the feet was a glass dial, whose grains of gold slipped out at stated intervals, one at a time, sticking fast on the quicksilver bed prepared for them. The warrior could only scowl at, and threaten the shining hours.