As for Reggio, he easily satisfied the law that he had killed Mullura in defense of his sister, after Mullura had failed in an effort to a.s.sa.s.sinate him, and therefore, he was formally acquitted.

His escape from death he had truthfully described to Mullura ere striking the fatal blow. A woman whom he had befriended in the house where he lived had bandaged his wounds and hidden him away, although in mortal terror of her life while doing so. Of course she had declared, when questioned, that she knew nothing of the desperate encounter on the stairs.

The grat.i.tude of both Reggio and Teresa toward their American friends was very great.

The joy of the girl who had thus found her brother may be imagined, but no words can describe it. It happened that Reggio had come to those friends for shelter, and thus he had been on hand when Mullura appeared.

"Well, partner," said Buckhart, after all these matters had been settled, "we've certain had a warm time in Venice while it lasted. It was somewhat too warm, but this calm after the storm is altogether too calm. I'm getting a bit restless. I think we'd better float on."

"So do I," nodded d.i.c.k. "What do you say, professor?"

"All right, boys-all right," nodded Zenas. "We'll jog along into Greece, but it will be just like you to get into some sort of trouble there and keep me nerved up all the time."

"Hurrah for Greece!" cried d.i.c.k.

CHAPTER XXII.

BEFORE THE PARTHENON.

"There it is, boys-there it is!" exclaimed Professor Zenas Gunn, in a voice that actually choked with deep emotion. "Behold 'the casket of the rarest architectural jewels of the world-the temple-crowned Acropolis'!"

"She seems to be a right big old rock," observed Brad Buckhart; "or is she just a hill?"

"Both a rock and a hill, Brad," laughed d.i.c.k Merriwell. "It is mainly a natural ma.s.s of rock, but in places it has been built up by substantial masonry."

"Correct, Richard," nodded the professor, approvingly. "It is plain you have posted up on the Acropolis and that you remember something of what you read. I regret that, in spite of my advice, Bradley seems much disinclined to post himself in advance concerning the historical spots we choose to visit."

"What's the use?" said the Texan. "I know you'll tell us all about them, professor, and I'll remember it a heap better by hearing you tell it, than by reading it in a dry, old book. You have such a fascinating way of telling things, you know, that any one who hears you can't help remembering every word you speak."

"Hum! ha!" coughed Zenas, much flattered. "I presume that is true. I think it quite probable you are correct. Under the circ.u.mstances, Bradley, you are excusable."

The two boys and the professor had arrived at the port of Athens near sundown the previous day. The sail through Grecian waters on a fine steamer was one long to be remembered. Repeatedly the professor reminded them that they were traversing the scenes of famous maritime adventures and struggles of ancient history, and that every sh.o.r.e they beheld had been made famous by poets, philosophers and wise men of the days when Greece was the pride, the glory, and the envy of the world.

Night had fallen before the trio reached the capital, which is located six miles from the port. Therefore, being tired and somewhat spiritless, they suppressed their desire to look around and waited for the following day.

And now, beneath the bright morning sunshine, they viewed the Acropolis, which, on account of its history, the professor declared was the most wonderful sight in all the world.

On three sides this great ma.s.s of rock and masonry, which looms above the modern city at its base, is practically perpendicular. On its summit stand the white columns and pillars of its ruined temples, which two thousand years ago were perfect in their grandeur and which are conceded to have been specimens of architectual beauty never equaled in modern times.

"Think," said the professor; "think of Greece in the glorious days when yonder rock was crowned with beautiful temples! We'll mount to its crest, boys, and soon our feet may touch the very stones once pressed by the feet of Demosthenes. We will stand beside pillars whose shadows may have fallen on Pericles and Phidias. Is it not enough to stir a heart of stone! Let us hasten."

The old pedagogue was actually trembling with eagerness and excitement.

"All right, professor," said d.i.c.k. "Lead on and we'll follow."

"Yes," said Brad, "hike as fast as you choose, and we'll keep up with you."

To their surprise they found the city very modern in appearance, and this surprise was increased on beholding a train of street cars drawn by an ordinary steam engine. Still the people were interesting in their native garments, and the language was what they had expected to hear.

At last they approached the Acropolis. As they drew near they beheld around its base a ma.s.s of ruins of the most picturesque character.

"Whatever sort of buildings were those, professor?" inquired the Texan.

"They were theatres," answered the old man. "The theatre of Bacchus, of Odeon, and others stood at the base of the great rock. You behold the ruins of those theatres. Somewhere in this vicinity is the dungeon of Socrates, in which he drank the hemlock. We'll find it ere we leave Athens."

They were compelled to make inquiry of a peasant before they found the only path by which the great rock could be ascended. The professor found it necessary to rest several times before the summit was reached, but still his enthusiasm buoyed him up in a wonderful manner.

As they reached the plateau the professor turned to look back on the city spread below them.

"Yes," he said, nodding and speaking as if addressing himself, "I had almost forgotten. Why, it was only a little more than half a century ago that Athens was demolished by the Turks. Hardly a house in the place was left in condition for human beings to inhabit it. That is why we see this modern city here."

Although they did not betray it as much as did the professor, both lads were profoundly moved by their situation.

For a few moments d.i.c.k seemed to feel himself transported back to Fardale, and he saw himself in his little room poring over Homer's electrifying verse or deep buried in Xenophon's incomparable prose. He knew that from this hour, as he stood by the pillared gateway of the Acropolis, he would understand the old Greek poets and philosophers better and appreciate them more.

"Come, boys," said Professor Gunn, in a hushed tone, "we'll pa.s.s through this ruined gateway, which was called the Propylaea, and which cost two and a half million dollars. Think of that! Think of it, and then behold these ruins. Touch them reverently with your hands. You are treading on sacred ground."

When they had pa.s.sed beyond the ruined gateway all halted in wonderment, for before them spread the entire plateau and they saw it was literally bestrewn with fallen columns and shattered statues. And directly before them, at the highest point of the plateau, rose the ruins of a snowy white temple, the Parthenon.

The spectacle was one to render them silent and speechless. They stood quite still and gazed in awe at the ruins.

At last Zenas spoke. He had his hat in his hand, and he mopped his forehead with a handkerchief, although the day was cool.

"Words fail me, boys," he said. "I wonder if you understand what it is to behold this spectacle. Look on this scene of desolation wrought by the hand of ruthless man. It is quite enough to make the G.o.ds weep!"

"However was she ruined, professor?" inquired Brad.

"It occurred something like two hundred years ago. At that time the Parthenon stood almost unchanged in its matchless magnificence. The Turks used it as a powder magazine. The city was besieged by an army of Venetians. They bombarded the town. One of their sh.e.l.ls exploded in the powder magazine. Behold the result!"

"Say, that was a whole lot bad!" exclaimed the Texan. "It sure was a shame!"

"Let's get nearer," urged d.i.c.k.

They threaded their way amid the ruined columns and statues, drawing nearer to the ruins of the Parthenon. The professor told them how the Parthenon had been despoiled of its treasures.

At that moment they seemed to be quite alone on the plateau of the Acropolis, but suddenly, from amid the pillars of the temple, dashed a Grecian girl, who did not seem to be more than sixteen years of age. She saw them and uttered a cry.

A moment later two men appeared in close pursuit of her. Both were Greeks. One was a man of forty-five or a little more, while the other could not have been much past twenty-one. They shouted for the girl to stop.

She ran toward the boys and the old professor, and the cry that came from her lips was one of terror and appeal. Her pursuers were close on her heels.

"By the great horn spoon!" shouted Buckhart, "here is where we mingle in a red-hot old scrimmage, pard! There will be something doing on the top of the Acrop in a moment!"

"Boys, boys, boys!" exclaimed the professor, in great agitation and alarm. "Do be careful! Those men look dangerous!"