The path curved, and went hesitatingly down many terraces.  Here, from the dimness of the marge of the island, they gradually emerged into the beginnings of the faint light.  It was not like entering upon dawn, or upon the moonlight.  It was by no means like going to meet the lights of a city.  It was literally “a light better than any light that ever shone,” and it wrapped them round first like a veil and then like a mantle.  Dimly, as if released from the censer-smoke of a magician’s lamp, boughs and glades, lines and curves were set free of the dark; and St. George and Amory could see about them.  Yet it did not occur to either to distrust the phenomenon, or to regard it as unnatural or the fruit of any unnatural law.  It was somehow quite as convincing to them as is his first sight of electric light to the boy of the countryside, and no more to be regarded as witchcraft.

St. George was silent.  It was as if he were on the threshold of Far-Away, within the Porch of the Morning of some day divine.  The place was so poignantly like the garden of a picture that one has seen as a child, and remembered as a place past all speech beautiful, and yet failed ever to realize in after years, or to make any one remember, or, save fleetingly in dreams to see once more, since the picture-book is never, never chanced upon again.  Sometimes he had dreamed of a great sunny plain, with armies marching; sometimes he had awakened at hearing the chimes, and fancied sleepily that it was infinite music; sometimes, in the country in the early morning, he had had an unreasonable, unaccountable moment of perfect happiness:  and now the fugitive element of them all seemed to have been crystallized and made his own in that floating walk down the wooded terraces of this unknown world.  And yet he could not have told whether the element was contained in that beauty, or in his thought of Olivia.

At last they emerged upon a narrow, grassy terrace where white steps mounted to a wide parapet.  Jarvo ran up the steps and turned: 

“Behold Med, adon,” he said modestly, as if he had at that moment stirred it up in a sauce-pan and baked it before their astonished eyes.

They were standing at the top of an immense flight of steps extending as far to right and left as they could see, and leading down by easy stages and wide landings to the white-paved city itself.  The clear light flooded the scene—­lucid, vivid, many-peopled.  Far as the eye could see, broad streets extended, lined with structures rivaling in splendour and beauty those unforgotten “topless towers.”  Temples, palaces, and public buildings rose, storey upon storey, built of hewn stones of great size; and noble arches faced an open square before a temple of colossal masonry crowning an eminence in the centre of the city.  Directly in line with this eminence rose the mountain upon whose summit stood the far-seen pillars where burned the solitary light.