as, touching another. "Oh, that is Cape
Henlopen," was the answer. "Then, I suppose," said Nicholas gravely,
pointing to the young man's head, "this must be the lighthouse." I
think that Charles Lamb, despite his imperfect sympathy with Quakers,
would have liked this turn to the conversation.

Bedtime comes at last, even when you are lodging at the Sign of the
Beautiful Star. There were a few quiet words read from a peace-giving
book, and a few minutes of silent thought in fellowship, and then each
man pulled his blanket round him and slept as if there were no troubles
in the world.

Certainly there were none waiting for us in the morning; for the day
rose fresh and fair, and we had nothing to do but enjoy it. After
fishing for an hour or two, to supply our larder, we paddled down the
pond, which presently widened into quite a lake, ending in a long, low
dam with trees growing all across it. Here was the forgotten village of
Watermouth, founded before the Revolution, and once the seat of a
flourishing iron industry, but now stranded between two railways, six
miles on either side of it, and basking on the warm sand-hills in a
painless and innocent decay.

Watermouth had done nothing to deserve ill fortune. But the timber
which had once been floated down its river was all cut and gone; and
the bog-iron which had once been smelted in its furnaces was all used
up; and the forest glass-makers and charcoal-burners who had once
traded in its store had all disappeared; and the new colonies of
fruit-growers and truck-farmers from Italy and Germany did not like to
settle quite so far from the railway; and there was nothing left for
Watermouth but to sit in the sun and doze, while one family after
another melted away, and house after house closed its windows and its
doors.

The manor-house stood in spacious grounds sloping gently down to the
southern shore of the lake, well planted with a variety of shade trees
and foreign evergreens, but overgrown with long grass and straggling
weeds. Master Thomas and I landed, and strolled through the neglected
lawn toward the house, in search of a possible opportunity to buy some
fresh eggs. The long, pillared veranda, with its French windows opening
to the floor; the wide double door giving entrance to a central hall; a
score of slight and indefinable signs told us that the mansion had seen
its days of comfort and elegance. But there were other signs--a pillar
leaning out of plumb, a bit