ence the little god Cupid
whither he will aim his arrow. Perhaps, perhaps not; that is all there
is to say ever."

The next morning after a very early breakfast, the travellers started
on their way to Enkeldorn _en route_ for Salisbury. And at the top of
the valley, whither they walked to save the mules, both girls stood
and turned for a long last look at the grey walls of the ancient
temple, lying in a soft haze of morning mists. It seemed to Meryl it
had never held a deeper fascination, a stronger allurement. Just those
old, old walls, and the soft enfolding mists which must have enfolded
them even so for perhaps three thousand years. The red of sunrise was
still in the sky, for Mr. Pym was an early starter, and it tinged the
mist with a soft flush where the sun's rays had not yet lit a clearer
light.

"It was good to come," said Diana simply. "I have to thank you for
it."

But Meryl only smiled in response. She had nothing to say. She felt
she was leaving behind with the ruins the best memory her life would
ever hold. Then they climbed into the ambulance waiting for them, said
"good-bye" charmingly to the lonely dwellers at the store and hotel,
with whom they had had some pleasant chats, drinking tea and admiring
the lovely view from their delightful huts, and went clattering away
down the road, their faces turned to the north.

And in the valley they left behind there was desolation.

Carew arrived back at his quarters, grim and taciturn, in the evening,
to find Stanley looking a veritable image of disconsolate hopelessness
in spite of Moore's persistent droll badinage.

"O, what did they want to come for," he groaned, "if they had to go
away again?"

"Faith!..." said the astute Irishman. "Did ye ask either of them to
share your little wooden hut?..."

But The Kid paid no attention. As Carew stood a moment beside him,
filling a pipe, with a cold, expressionless face, the youngster
glanced up with a momentary gleam, and remarked, "Eh, sir? But women
are the devil, aren't they?"

Carew said nothing; but with a low chuckle Moore ejaculated, "Come,
give the divil a chance; we find him very accommodating sometimes in
auld Erin."

Stanley got up and stretched himself. "Days and weeks of desolation
now," he moaned; "and we were so happy and content before. Moore, old
chap"--giving that harmless individual a smack on the back that nearly
knocked him over--"yours was the wise choice when we spoke of gifts
from