“It has lasted—but it no longer looks as you see it here. Time and change! Time and change!” murmured Dinocrates, softly. “It is a modern city now, and most of what I built is ruins beneath its present squares and houses.”
“But there’s no lighthouse—even as we see the place now,” exclaimed Diana.
“There was no lighthouse even in my time, little child. It was not till I had been dead twenty years and more that the beacon tower was built.”
Rachel glanced at him. “After you had—gone on? Gone into another life, you mean?” she said.
Dinocrates smiled kindly at her.
“That is a better way of saying the same thing, little maid,” he agreed.
“But you promised you would tell us about the lighthouse,” began Diana, after a moment. “Do tell us, please,” she urged.
Again Dinocrates smiled.
“I am coming to it, impatient one,” he began, when Rachel interrupted.