9. Phorenice, Goddess

           ItwaslongenoughsinceIhadfoundleisureforaparcelofsleep,andsoduringthelargerpartofthatdayIamfreetoconfessthatIslumberedsoundly,Naiswatchingme.Nightfell,andstillweremainedwithintheprivacyofthetemple.ItwasourplanthatIshouldstaytheretillthecampslept,andsoIshouldhavemorechanceofreachingtheseawithoutdisturbance.

           Thenightcamedownwet,withadrizzleofrain,andthroughtheslitsinthetemplewallswecouldseethemanyfiresinthecampwellcaredfor,themenandwomeninskinsandragstoastingbeforethem,withsteamrisingastheheatfoughtwiththeirwetness.Folkseatedindiscomfortlikethisareproverbiallyalertandcruelinthetemper,andNaisfrownedasshelookedontheinclemencyoftheweather.

           “Afinenight,”shesaid,“andIwouldhavesentmylordbacktothecitywithoutasoulherebeingthewiser;butinthischill,peoplesleepsourly.Wemustwaittillthehourdrugsthemsounder.”

           Andsowewaited,sittingtheretogetheronthatpavementsolongunkissedbyworshippers,anditwaslittleenoughwesaidaloud.Buttherecanbegoodcompanionshipwithoutsentencesoftalk.

           Butasthehoursdrewon,thenightbegantogrowlessquiet.Fromthedistancesomeonebegantoblowonahornorashell,sendingforthaharshraucousnoteincessantly.Thesoundcamenearer,aswecouldtellfromitsgrowingloudness,andthevoicesofthosebythefiresmadethemselvesheard,railingattheblowerforhisdisturbance.