Albert Kinross

“ Capel listened, and old England, the barbaric, the beloved, drew nearer here than in the big saloon. He knew his Greece; but it was not at all like this. To him, Greece was rather more than a dead impulse, covered by its twenty odd centuries. To him, Greece was alive, as in her greatest day. Why not? You may overturn temples; Persian and Slav and Roman may destroy and subjugate; but the soul of things evanished will endure. Twenty odd centuries had only slain the body. ”

“ This morning he landed with the rest, rather from lack of purpose than for any interest he had in revisiting these antique sites and excarations; even those two great tombs, built into a hillside and guarding the mystery of some forgotten line of kings.
It was a broiling day, blue and perfect; the right April weather of such southern lands. Capel's mood was to look once more on Greece; on her bare hillsides, her far mountains, the green level of her plains; to catch once more the rapture of her skies and her blue waters; ah, living—living to-day as in the splendid past! ”

“ The tourists had all vanished. Now he overlooked the sea, where the "Golden Fleece" had dwindled to a small, black boat, riding at anchor in the Nauplian Bay; nearer was the town, with the vague menace of its Venetian fortress; but, crowding out these trivial incursions, was the great plain that rolled in from the coast-line to the spurs of the bare hills where he was perched. Argos rose from its bosom like an island—a strong place, steep and armed; far away was prehistoric Tiryns; and here beneath him, Mycenae, where Agamemnon and the Argive kings had ruled. ”

“ After Tiryns and Argos, the four had lunched together at the inn-garden below Mycenae. Capel took charge of the party, and, his knowledge of the language aiding, they fared far better than the rest. He left them as they made ready for the last ascent.
"I shall take a walk while you explore," he said; "there are heaps of things to see if one has time."
He wandered off alone, up a gray hillside, with no one to cross the charm of all that solitude. Away below him were the fragments of Mycenae, dotted and gay with the two hundred tourists. ”

“ Tiryns was arming, was arming Argos, was arming Mycenae: nearer and nearer drew all the color and animation of that splendid pageant. War was a sport in those far days when men could come to grips. The great plain was spread before him and alive with a mirage of its glorious past. ”

“ Three of the departed tourists were rummaging there. He moved out of range, to a side chapel, and there she knelt in brown, unmistakably she for whom he sought.
He waited.
There was a footfall at his side. It was Miss Stair, sunny and freckled and altogether alert. She smiled faintly, as though she had expected him. Then she tiptoed away.
Rose had done. There were the marks of tears on her face. It told him everything, as his told her. They had confessed in that swift recognition, without reserve, all weapons laid aside, as is befitting under such a roof. Their love lay open to the world. ”

“ Coming down the hillside warily, he returned to the gay tavern, with its remnant of conveyances. On the road, ahead of him, was a scarlet parasol, and a slight figure marching lonely like himself—the dark girl from the ship, for he recognized the parasol. Should he overtake her and spoil the vision that still filled him? He slackened his pace and let her reach the inn alone.
That evening at Nauplia he found himself with her again. ”

“ Ropes we had in plenty; but, best of all, we were six strong men, all eager, all enthusiasts, and all excited with the joy of a supreme moment, the like of which might never enter in our lives again. It was the first that had been seen of the Delian Apollo. Now, you can buy his photograph at every shop. . . . I suppose your newspapers have said things about it; but, to us, it was an act of true creation" . . . and Capel paused, reaching out again to the joy and the dominance of that august surprise. ”

“ A bugler came on deck and sounded the first-dinner call. Capel went below and changed his dress.
Almost five years were gone since he had sat at table in the old, familiar way, in starch and broadcloth, with graceful women and a fixed menu. This evening he bowed gravely as he took his place; already in England, by the decorous face of things. An archeological parson, ardent, Hellenic, was on his left; an auburn-haired, freckled girl sat on his right. The long table to which he had been guided was ringed with smaller tables. ”

“ Village and station lie below a hill and are shut out. Over that ascent. you discover a pink and white museum, a pink and white hotel, shaped like Greek temples; and, afterwards, you face round to where, deep in the bed of a wide and shallow valley, spreads the gray remnant of a ruined city.
Capel had looked down from there alone, lived there alone, through a past autumn. To-day he found that place alight with spring. He let Miss Stair and the fair young man go sight-seeing with the rest. There would be a meal at one o'clock, and they would come together again, all four of them, at the hotel. ”

“ Miss Stair, reclining in an upper berth, looked hard at her, as she moved steadfastly, intent upon her task.
"Nice men are wasted on you, Rose," she said at last; and then, "I could have done with him quite comfortably," she added laughing; "I don't suppose you ever thought of that!"
VIII Capel stood at the gangway head, saying good-by to her. Below, the ship's launch was in waiting, piled with trunks and boxes, with parcels and the lesser things of such a flitting. ”

“ On the way to the cabin he came across Rose Fermoy, who recognized him with a smile and half a gesture, as of invitation. He accepted a convenient deck-chair and asked her why she had not joined the rest and gone to Epidaurus.
She was not doing penance for past sins, she said. Mycenae, Tiryns, and Argos sufficed for all her present needs. Till they had settled to a definite shape, she would not look at another stone.
"Then come ashore and have lunch," he suggested. "I'm going to—at some Greek place. They treat you like a guest if you're civil and can talk to them." ”

“ They had anchored at Nauplia, a port from which one has easy access to the excursions expounded by last night's lecturer. Already tile first boat-load of tourists was making for the shore. Tiryns, Argos, and Mycenae were to be visited before sundown; a huge undertaking, it seemed to Capel, who had several times found his solitary way to those old monuments; spending a week here, another there, letting time fill him, and torture him, and lead him. ”

“ Capel's eyes rested on the spot where the green was greenest, the sparse trees most clustered, the plain most rising from the flat. "We'll go there," he said.
He found a cabman, a sly old fellow, greedy, wrinkled, and obtuse; a cunning ogre, who, obviously, preyed upon tourists, and to whose original baseness much traffic with the honeymooner had added a sinister and incurable misanthropy. Rose and her lover hated him, but they had no immediate alternative.
"We want to drive in that direction—" Capel indicated it—"for one hour. Then you can drop us and go home. How much?"
"To the monuments?" ”

“ Perhaps an hour passed, and, perhaps, less—time was no moment on this April day—before they rose and stood upright. The last of the tourists had gone down the slope to the gray city.
V In the museum of Olympia lives the Hermes of Praxiteles. It has a chamber, dedicate, apart. The other figures, archaic, following an easier convention, have their story, but this rare piece of marble is transfigured by some great awakening, some first, supreme adventure of the human soul. The Hermes is all youth ”

“ There will be no turning back for us. Last night I had to argue the other way. Now, I know that he loves me, and I do not argue. Now, I am sure. "I am too tired to explain any more; my head is simply used up and will hardly go on. ”

“ Made by him, for him, recreated—as God creates each year. The men of old had had their day. Now had come his; equally splendid, equally epic, equally alive—for him! . . . "No monuments," he had cried; "we build our own!"
There had been no further interruptions.
At the hour, they had reached the opening of a lane, whose low stone walls gave to a lemon grove, bright with ripening fruit and lingering blossom. Here they dismissed their driver and went on, hand in hand.
"The dismissed their driver and went on, hand in hands"
XI The day was over, and Rose had said good-night to everybody. ”