“But we saw it first in the British Museum,” Diana reminded her.
“Where it rests now, having been torn from one of the noblest temples in the world,” said Sheshà, sadly. “The sculptor who made that frieze, the great Phidias, must have many times seen processions like to this,” he added, pointing to the beautiful boys who, mounted on no less beautiful horses, were now cantering round the stadium while the crowd applauded loudly.
“Yes! Yes! It’s just as though those marble boys had come to life,” declared Diana, excitedly.
“Oh, look!” interrupted Rachel, still more thrilled. “There’s Phidolas riding upon his lovely horse! Oh, don’t they look splendid together?”
“And there’s Agis!” cried Diana, jumping up and clapping her hands. “Do you see? With a crowd of other boys, just coming in. Oh, this is simply frightfully exciting!”
Sheshà laughed. “Listen to the heralds,” he counselled. “The games are just about to begin.”
A silence all at once fell upon the vast swaying crowd, while several men with trumpets, advancing from the centre of the stadium and addressing the people, cried out the names of the competitors, and the cities from which they came.
Rachel and Diana exchanged delighted glances when the name of Agis of Athens was announced among the rest, and, after the last notes of the trumpets had died away, they saw the athletes being arranged for the first race.
“That’s the umpire, I suppose?” whispered Rachel, pointing to a man who was marshalling the boys.
Sheshà nodded, and, a second later, Diana asked eagerly: “What are they doing now?” For one of the umpires was reciting something in a loud voice, to which all the competitors replied with a shout of assent.