“Yes, yes,—don’t interrupt.”
“Who did she yell to?”
“The loud Ocean heard. It stirred, and divided—parted, boy—and ‘under the water the Earth’s white daughter fled like a sunny beam.’”
“Hm! What did the river-god do then?”
“He pursued her. He descended after her. ‘Like a gloomy stain on the emerald main.’”
“But did he get her, Mr. David?”
“Well, Arethusa was changed into a stream by Diana, and the stream was turned into a fountain in the island of Ortygia, and Alpheus the river-god still pursuing her, finally won her, and they dwelt single-hearted in the fountains of Enna’s mountains.”
There was a burst of roguish laughter behind me.
“What a classic tale for a child mind,” a light voice cried.
Haidee stood among the shadows of the cottonwoods, swaying between her crutches.