Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: he could remember. This was her Lacedaemon. At last they stood upon its sacred soil. All that afternoon, as they followed the road south down the bed of the river Oinous, Makaria seemed in a dream. No roughness of the way, no pools left by the rain through which they waded ankle deep, no tangle of fallen trees across the path ? nothing could stay her. She put the branches away with a mighty hand. She strode the loose, slippery stones unpausing. Her long ten years of married exile were drawing to a close, and she would fain have crushed the last few hours into moments of time. At last the road emerged. They clambered up a little hillside, and there, before them in the sunset light, lay the whole circle of hollow Lacedaemon, and Sparta in the midst, Sparta, breeder of men. Makaria gave a little sharp cry, then stood in seeming quiet. .It was indeed a view to contemplate. Beyond the narrow plain Taygetos rose. First, lesser hills with shadow-purple gorges and Sash of leaping streams, then the mighty slope, soft with its forest multitudes. Above, on the vast, bare cliffs hung the tired battalions of the storm, heavily purple in the golden light, casting shadows broad as counties over uplands and ravines. And above the clouds, at the sheer zenith edge, gleamed the perennial snows, peak upon peak, billowing away and away in upper air like a visible god-place unsullied by mortal tread. In such fashion do the awful hills o'ershadow Lacedaemon, and close her in from the world. But it was not at the hills that the Spartan woman looked, not even at the plain with golden harvest breasthigh, where olives here and there flung lengthened shadows across the grain. She saw only the town itself. It looked to Aristodemos small and mean enough. But to her eyes its every roof was dear. ...