Blood-red it rose behind the dark pile, throwing into sinister relief a gallows-like angle of stone beams, then higher and higher it soared till its resplendent light poured unchecked into the wide courts and broken temples, the unroofed altars and the empty shrines.
"A dead world lighting a dead world," said Arlee under her breath.
"I could read by it," stated Miss Falconer impressively.
Lady Claire glanced up at Billy with a touch of mischief. "Would you like to paint it?" she suggested.
"Heaven forbid!" said Billy soberly.
Falconer said nothing at all, except to Arlee. He was very shrewdly drawing her to the other end of the pylon, seeing that the time of descent was nearly upon them. And when the time arrived, and the English ladies and their stoic escort started down the steep steps, Falconer made no motion of following them. He stood still, his hands in his pockets, and chuckled softly at the sound of his sister's voice, floating lesseningly up to them.
"How Emma is dragoning that William Whatdycallit Hill," he said appreciatively.
"Why do you call him that?" questioned Arlee.
"Oh, that chap is so deuced odd about that name of his. I asked him what the B. stood for, and he looked me in the eye like a fighting cock and said for his middle name.... Queer chap—" Suddenly Falconer looked sidewise at Arlee and stopped.
"He is—unusual," she agreed, moving toward the steps.