What was its connection? Who whispered this to him, bringing the words up out of long-submerged layers of life? Vague, baffling recollections assailed him as he dropped back against the trunk, steadfastly looking far above into tree-veiled heights which were now darkly blue with drifting shadow from some floating cloud-mass in the heavens. Who said that—"Go on, where the way will lead you?" Where? When? What teasing memory played with him, bringing those apropos words with their elusive setting?
He looked dreamily upwards and slowly he seemed to be floating backwards through the centuries, drifting across the seas to the sapphire Mediterranean. No, not sapphire, as he visioned it at this instant, but black-gray with one of its wild tornadoes, raging with a mad blast of whirling fury. He had seen it thus once, and had himself nearly been a victim to its brief, terrific rage. Why did that aspect come up rather than the smiling, misty, azure beauty he knew far
