"If I only hadn't sneezed!" sobbed Daphne.
"But a sneeze is always a good sign," said Dion.
"Well, anyway," said Daphne bravely, though her voice shook and her teeth chattered, "crying won't do any good. Let's feel around and see if there is anything in this room."
It was dark, except for a gray patch of dim light from a window high up in the wall. Dion and Daphne kept close together and went carefully round the room, feeling the wall with their hands. Dion stumbled against something. It was a chest where the priests' robes were kept.
"Do you suppose we could move it?" whispered Daphne. "If we could, maybe we could look out of the window and see where we are."
They both got on the same side of it and pushed with all their strength. The chest moved a little and made a horrible screeching sound on the stone floor.
"Sh-sh-sh," whispered Daphne, as if the chest could hear. They held their breath to listen for footsteps. There was no sound outside. They waited a little while and pushed again. Again the chest screeched, and again they stopped to listen. After many such efforts it was finally moved under the window, and the two sprang up on the top of it to look out. By standing on tiptoe they could just see over the sill. There was no glass, for there was no window-glass anywhere at that time, and the cool night air blew in on their faces. The Acropolis was bathed in moonlight. There was no sound outside, and no one in sight anywhere. Apparently the world was asleep. Suddenly the stillness was broken by the hoot of an owl, and they could see the great bird flying toward them.
"It's Athena's own bird," whispered Dion, "and it's flying from the east. That means good luck. Oh, maybe we can get away from this dreadful place after all!"
"Let's pray to Athena," quavered Daphne. "We can't sacrifice, but maybe she'll hear us just the same."
The two little prisoners spread their hands toward the sky, and Dion whispered, "Help us, O Athena, just the way you helped Perseus kill the Gorgon."