“Whatever sort of buildings were those, professor?” inquired the Texan.
“They were theatres,” answered the old man. “The theatre of Bacchus, of Odeon, and others stood at the base of the great rock. You behold the ruins of those theatres. Somewhere in this vicinity is the dungeon of Socrates, in which he drank the hemlock. We’ll find it ere we leave Athens.”
They were compelled to make inquiry of a peasant before they found the only path by which the great rock could be ascended. The professor found it necessary to rest several times before the summit was reached, but still his enthusiasm buoyed him up in a wonderful manner.
As they reached the plateau the professor turned to look back on the city spread below them.
“Yes,” he said, nodding and speaking as if addressing himself, “I had almost forgotten. Why, it was only a little more than half a century ago that Athens was demolished by the Turks. Hardly a house in the place was left in condition for human beings to inhabit it. That is why we see this modern city here.”
Although they did not betray it as much as did the professor, both lads were profoundly moved by their situation.
For a few moments Dick seemed to feel himself transported back to Fardale, and he saw himself in his little room poring over Homer’s electrifying verse or deep buried in Xenophon’s incomparable prose. He knew that from this hour, as he stood by the pillared gateway of the Acropolis, he would understand the old Greek poets and philosophers better and appreciate them more.
“Come, boys,” said Professor Gunn, in a hushed tone, “we’ll pass through this ruined gateway, which was called the Propylæa, and which cost two and a half million dollars. Think of that! Think of it, and then behold these ruins. Touch them reverently with your hands. You are treading on sacred ground.”
When they had passed beyond the ruined gateway all halted in wonderment, for before them spread the entire plateau and they saw it was literally bestrewn with fallen columns and shattered statues. And directly before them, at the highest point of the plateau, rose the ruins of a snowy white temple, the Parthenon.
The spectacle was one to render them silent and speechless. They stood quite still and gazed in awe at the ruins.