The sun rose, and its golden veil was let down slowly over the western mountains, creeping toward the Basilica. When it touched, she could see from where she stood in her door the sparkling of the crown-jewels. They seemed to rejoice.
“I will go to his house to ask help,” said Iona. “Why should he have a house among us, if not to give audience there to his children! But now I must sleep.”
She went to tie her handkerchief on the little balustrade of her terrace for a sign to Elena, and returning, closed the door, leaving the window ajar. Getting into her hammock then, she swung herself, to sleep.
It was late in the afternoon when she waked, and the sun was shining into the room in a long, bright bar through the window. In the midst of that light was the shadow of a head. As she looked at the shadow-head it turned aside in a listening attitude.
Iona rose and opened the door, and Ion sprang up joyfully. He had brought her breakfast and left it outside the door, and come again with her dinner, both waiting untasted.
“I peeped in and saw that you were asleep,” he said. “Are you not hungry?”
She ate something, not more from faintness than to please him.
“I was so tired. I worked hard at the Olives, and did not sleep till late. And now, dear boy, go down. I have something to do, and something for you to do. To-night, after the people are out of the street, I am going to the Basilica. I wish to go alone. When the portal is closed, get the key of the south side door, and leave it in the lock. Thank you for coming up! You are always good to Iona!”
She kissed him smilingly, and let him go.