"—Why, it completes the song. Between them they bring the two worlds together."
"He bows the heavens, and comes down," said the boy of the olive-harp, trying to hum David's air.
"Let us ask them—"
And just then there rang along the valley the sound of a distant conch-shell. The soldiers groaned, roused up, and each looked for his own side-arms and his own skin.
But the poets talked on unheeding.
The old chief knocked down a stack of lances; but the crash did not rouse them. He was obliged himself to interrupt their eager converse.
"I am sorry to break in; but the night-horn has sounded to rest, and the guard will be round to inspect the posts. I am sorry to hurry you away, sir," he said to David.
David thanked him courteously.
"Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest," said Homer, with a smile.
"We will all meet to-morrow. And may to-night's dreams be good omens!"