sure for an hour, sir--only that, and
no longer. Afterward you may forbid them; and you will still have more
fruit than you and the state together can consume in a year."

This made the foreigner very angry, and he cried out, "Who are you, you
vagabond, to tell your betters what they may do and what they mayn't!"
and he struck Satan with his cane and followed this error with a kick.

The fruits rotted on the branches, and the leaves withered and fell. The
foreigner gazed at the bare limbs with the look of one who is surprised,
and not gratified. Satan said:

"Take good care of the tree, for its health and yours are bound
together. It will never bear again, but if you tend it well it will live
long. Water its roots once in each hour every night--and do it yourself;
it must not be done by proxy, and to do it in daylight will not answer.
If you fail only once in any night, the tree will die, and you likewise.
Do not go home to your own country any more--you would not reach there;
make no business or pleasure engagements which require you to go outside
your gate at night--you cannot afford the risk; do not rent or sell this
place--it would be injudicious."

The foreigner was proud and wouldn't beg, but I thought he looked as if
he would like to. While he stood gazing at Satan we vanished away and
landed in Ceylon.

I was sorry for that man; sorry Satan hadn't been his customary self
and killed him or made him a lunatic. It would have been a mercy. Satan
overheard the thought, and said:

"I would have done it but for his wife, who has not offended me. She is
coming to him presently from their native land, Portugal. She is well,
but has not long to live, and has been yearning to see him and persuade
him to go back with her next year. She will die without knowing he can't
leave that place."

"He won't tell her?"

"He? He will not trust that secret with any one; he will reflect that
it could be revealed in sleep, in the hearing of some Portuguese guest's
servant some time or other."

"Did none of those natives understand what you said to him?"

"None of them understood, but he will always be afraid that some of them
did. That fear will be torture to him, for he has been a harsh master
to them. In his dreams he will imagine them chopping his tree down.
That will make his days uncomfortable--I have already arranged for his
nights."

It grieved me, though not sharply, to see him take such a malicious
satisfaction in