“Would we knew that draught, if it was found, for Viril died.”
“We know that he lived long, so long that he came to wish for death. Without doubt, he ceased to take it.”
“Would he had left the word to us. Would it could again be found! Would we, in our seeking, could”—He paused in fear. He had been incautious. But Atlana, unheeding his words, for her thought had returned to the captives, implored:
“Think well upon it, Atlano. In a few days come to me with the word that these children will go back to Pelasgia.”
Relieved, he answered mildly, “Trouble me not with it now.” And again would have gone.
“Yield to me.”
“Take away thy hand. I must to Oltis, whom thou likest so well. Later will we think upon this.” And, pushing aside her detaining hand, he passed from the apartment.
The queen again leaned over Æole; but shortly beckoned to Hellen. Taking his hand, she sat beside them, looking from one to the other with such affection that they revived somewhat. This was the first sympathy they had received, and no mother’s could have been tenderer.
After a little Æole sat up, and the relieving tears fell fast. When the queen had wiped these well away, she spoke reassuringly to Hellen; and then the two, by their signs, made her to understand how grateful were her sympathy and quick affection.
Soon Azu brought them some refreshment, the while refreshing their spirits to the extent that they even laughed. Here was a novelty of novelties. Whereupon, and out of his goodness of heart, he became overjoyed, and to express this, executed some extraordinary leaps that made them laugh the more. Finally, at the queen’s behest, he struck off into a wild, weird dance that he had learned in the inmost recesses of the Afrite forest. At this their tears were paralyzed, and the laughing, strengthened.