the people, by our lives and by our words, back to that which
they have forgotten."

There was a smile in her eyes so deep that its meaning cannot
be spoken, as she lifted my hand to her lips, and answered,

"Not so, dear friend, for who can tell whether life or
death will come to the city, whether its people will remember
at last, or whether they will forget forever. Its lot is
mine, for I was born here, and here my life is rooted. But
you are of the Children of the Unquiet Heart, whose feet can
never rest until their task of errors is completed and their
lesson of wandering is learned to the end. Until then go
forth, and do not forget that I shall remember always."

Behind her quiet voice I heard the silent call that
compels us, and passed down the street as one walking in a
dream. At the place where the path turned aside to the ruined
vineyards I looked back. The low sunset made a circle of
golden rays about her head and a strange twin blossom of
celestial blue seemed to shine in her tranquil eyes.

Since then I know not what has befallen the city, nor
whether it is still called Saloma, or once more Ablis, which
is Forsaken. But if it lives at all, I know that it is
because there is one there who remembers, and keeps the hour of
visitation, and treads the steep way, and breathes the beautiful
name over the spring, and sometimes I think that long before my
seeking and journeying brings me to the Blue Flower, it will
bloom for Ruamie beside the still waters of the Source.