-out of the great door,
with its stately carvings and the two pink stone lions that guarded
the way--out to the clear night of stars. The breeze blew in--a little
breath from the lake, that lapped upon the breakwater and died out.
Achilles stood very still--lifting his face to it. Behind him, in the
city, little children were asleep... and in the great house the man and
the woman waited alone--for the help that was coming to them--running
with swift feet in the night. It sped upon iron rails and crept beneath
the ground and whispered in the air--and in the heart of Achilles it
dreamed under the quiet stars.

XIV

THE PRICE ACHILLES PAID

The little shop was closed. The fruit-trays had been carried in and the
shutters put up, and from an upper window a line of light gleamed on the
deserted street. Achilles glanced at it and turned into an alley at the
side, groping his way toward the rear. He stopped and fumbled for a knob
and rapped sharply. But a hand was already on the door, scrambling to
undo it, and an eager face confronted him, flashing white teeth at him.
"You come!" said the boy swiftly.

He turned and fled up the stairs and Achilles followed. A faint sense
of onions was in the air. Achilles sniffed it gratefully. He remembered
suddenly that he had not eaten since morning. But the boy did not
pause for him--he was beckoning with mysterious hand from a doorway
and Achilles followed. "Alcie--got hurt," whispered the boy. He was
trembling with fear and excitement, and he pointed to the bed across the
room.

Achilles stepped, with lightest tread, and looked down. A boy, half
asleep, murmured and turned his head restlessly. A red-clotted blur ran
along the forehead, and the face, streaked with mud, was drawn in a look
of pain. As Achilles bent over him, the boy cried out and threw up a
hand; then he turned his head, muttering, and dozed again.

Achilles withdrew lightly, beckoning to the boy beside him.

Yaxis followed, his eyes on the figure on the bed. "All day," he said,
"he lie sick."

Achilles closed the door softly and turned to him. "Tell me, Yaxis, what
happened," he said.

The boy's face opened dramatically. "I look up--I see Alcie--like
that--" his gesture fitted to the room--"He stand in door--all covered
mud--blood run--cart broke--no fruit--no hat." The boy's hands were
everywhere, as he spoke, dispensing fruit, smashing carts and filling up
the broken words with horror and a flow of blo