to turn her eyes back to the sea, which beckoned far below them, a dancing blueness; and to the golden cliffs, laughing in the sunlight far and near.  The path was quite steep and winding and unexpected, and Yassuh scrambled about a good deal; but he managed to keep hold of the step and the bag.  As for Sara, she had never seen a more fascinating place, and she supposed these great cliffs must form a part of the walls of the amphitheatre she had seen from Schlorge’s stump.  Presently, at one especially wild, golden place, where the path followed the edge of a chasm, Pirlaps paused a moment and said,

“You can hear a lovely reflection from here, Sara.  Shall I call?”

“A reflection?” said Sara, wonderingly.

“Surely,” said Pirlaps.  “Listen.”  Then he cupped his hands about his lips and called clearly,

“Avrillia!”

“’Rillia!” came back the wild, eerie syllables, so distinctly that Sara’s heart leaped.

“Oh, an echo!” she cried, clapping her hands.  “How beautiful!”

“Bless the child!” said Pirlaps, smiling at Avrillia.  “You hear a reflection, Sara; you see an echo.”

“Like the Echo of the Plynck in the pool,” supplemented Avrillia.  “Don’t you remember, Sara?”

Sara was sure her father had told her it was just the other way around; but she was too happy to argue.  So, to change the subject, she asked Pirlaps very respectfully where they were going.

“To Zinariola, Sara—­to the City.  You’ve never been there, have you?”

Never, never had Sara been there; and she began immediately trying to build that lovely city in her mind—­the frail spires, and the rich bazaars, dusky and spicy and full of brocades and silks, and the little narrow, climbing streets.  But, though it was a pleasure to try, she knew she could not imagine anything so strange and charming as the real City of Zinariola would be.

All this time they had been winding steadily down to the sea.  And presently they caught sight of the boat, riding at anchor near the landing place, with a little skiff drawn up on the sand.  Of course you know that the boat was a scallop-shell, with sails of gossamer; but Sara had been expecting an ordinary boat, and she was perfectly delighted.  Of course it was large enough to hold Sara, as well as the rest of the party; but just barely.  And the sailors were no larger than Pirlaps, though of course more rugged-looking and not so smooth-shaven.  And not one of them said a single word, during the entire voyage, except “Yo-ho!” They sang that out continually; but as their voices were small and musical (though hoarse) one didn’t mind the monotony of it.

The sea was very smooth that morning, and not one of the party was seasick; and Sara, who had been gazing, fascinated, into the water in front of the bow was just beginning to suspect that the boat was being drawn by a very large amber-colored fish who kept just ahead of it and just under the surface (with the sails chiefly for ornament) when Avrillia called suddenly from the stern, “You can see Zinariola now, Sara!”