There was now no hope of finishing the journey to-day.  His head on his breast, Basil rode more and more slowly.  The sun declined, and ere long it would be necessary to seek harbourage.  But here among the hills no place of human habitation came in view.  Luckily for themselves some of the horsemen had brought provender.  Their lord had given thought to no such thing.  The sun set; the hills cast a thickening shadow, even Basil began to gaze uneasily ahead.  At length there appeared a building, looking in the dusky distance like a solitary country house.  It proved to be the ruin of a temple.

‘Here we must stop,’ said Basil.  ’My horse can go no further.  Indeed, the darkness would stay us in any case.  We must shelter in these walls.’

The men peered at each other, and a whisper went among them.  For their part, said one and all, they would rest under the open sky.  Basil understood.

’What! you are afraid?  Fools, do as you will.  These walls shall shelter me though all the devils in hell were my bedfellows.’

What had come to him? asked his followers.  Never had Basil been known to speak thus.  Spite of their horror of a forsaken temple, two or three entered, and respectfully made offer of such food as they had with them.  Basil accepted a piece of bread, bade them see to his horse, and crept into a corner of the building.  He desired to be alone and to think; for it seemed to him that he had not yet been able to reflect upon the story told by Sagaris.  What was it that lurked there at the back of his mind?  A memory, a suggestion of some sort, which would have helped him to understand could he but grasp it.  As he munched his bread he tried desperately to think, to remember; but all within him was a passionate misery, capable only of groans and curses.  An intolerable weariness possessed his limbs.  After sitting for a while with his back against the wall, he could not longer hold himself in this position, but sank down and lay at full length; and even so he ached, ached, from head to foot.

Perhaps an hour had passed, and it was now quite dark within the temple, when two of the men appeared with blazing torches, for they, by means of flint and iron, had lit a fire in a hollow hard by, and meant to keep it up through the night as a protection against wolves.  They brought Basil a draught of water in a leather bottle, from a little stream they had found; and he drank gratefully, but without a word.  The torchlight showed bare walls and a shattered roof.  Having searched all round and discovered neither reptile nor beast, the men made a bed of leaves and bracken, with a folded cloak for a pillow, and invited their master to lie upon it.  Basil did so, turned his face away, and bade them leave him alone.

What was that memory at the back of his mind?  In the effort to draw it forth he ground his teeth together, dug his nails into his hands.  At moments he forgot why he was wretched, and, starting up, strained his eyes into the darkness, until he saw the face of Sagaris and heard him speaking.