Then followed quiet, the quiet of despair, almost. The three looked sadly down from their eyry upon the scene beneath—upon the zones of water[[17]] with their boats and galleys; upon the zones of land[[17]] with their guardhouses and race courses; upon the plain to the west with its many streams, its pyramids, its denseness of verdure, its brightly lighted habitations; upon the restless bulls in their inclosures; upon the dwellings of the artificers, miners and husbandmen that spread northward beyond the third zone of water; upon the mountains towering to the northeast; upon the ocean to the east. At length Æole spoke.
“This is a most smiling spot. Why are not the people better?”
“They lack thought for gods and man,” answered Electra.
“Yet—they show faith in worship.”
“It is the letter not the spirit. Theirs is a weak faith; their only feeling a warm one for self.”
“Yea, they are sunk in thought of self, and thus in the placing high of self,” added Hellen.
“It is too true. Atlano and Oltis would be gods. They would scale heaven—there to be waited upon by even Amen and Poseidon. Ah, what a spirit of evil hath mine uncle—he brother of my mother!” Poor Electra turned away that they might not see her emotion.
“Æole, Electra, I call to mind that, in Pelasgia, we were taught to put away self, to seek the truth. Æole, I often heard our father say: ‘It is much to win a battle, more to do a kind act.’”
“Ah, Hellen, Hellen! Of late, I dream much of our father. But last night, he came to me in sleep, and whispered, ‘Æole, all will be well. Have hope.’ Thinkest thou it was his spirit talking to mine? Is it that in sleep our spirits so throw off the bonds of flesh as to have full being? Is it that they can see, can hold sweet speech with those beyond? Yea, it is, it is! I know that our father is not of earth—that he cometh to me in spirit. And our mother? If he hath gone, she hath not staid. They look on us from above.”
“Æole, wouldst thou rave? Dost thou think the above, a place of torment?”