CHAPTER V
A VISIT TO MARCO
The winter passed quietly to Zoe and spring came with its glories of cloud and flower and sunshine. Men began to plough in the fields with quaint old-fashioned, one-handled ploughs, drawn by great strong oxen. Snows still crested Ossa and Pelion, and beautiful Olympus, in snow-crowned grandeur golden in the morning's glow, turned to rose in the evening sunset.
Marco had gone far up the mountain side to herd for a rich farmer who had many goats. He watched the herds all day and, when they were safely housed for the night, camped in a rough little hut on the hillside.
Zoe missed him from the cottage, for of all her cousins she most loved Marco. She was very happy therefore when her Aunt Anna told her one day that she might carry a basket of food to the mountain.
She started off happily, running along the village street into the open country, going more slowly up the hillside, where the early wildflowers were beginning to bloom.
She reached the little hut where Marco slept, nearly at sundown but he was not there, so she sat down to wait for him. The sun was streaming in a golden glory and the Vale of Tempe opened before her as fair as when the god Apollo slept beneath its elms and oaks, wild figs and plane trees. Zoe loved everything beautiful and she sat and looked eagerly at the lovely scene.
"It is almost as pretty as my own Argolis," she said aloud, and then gave a little sigh.
"Still homesick, little one?" Marco's voice said close behind her, and she sprang to her feet in astonishment. He seemed to have sprung from the ground, so quickly had he come upon her.
"Oh, Marco!" she said. "I did not hear you come. I am so glad to see you. It has been lonely at home without you."