ouple of those narrow pointed windows, while the floor
space was practically empty, the suggestion of a chapel was complete. I
ought, perhaps, to have guessed it before, but the thought burst on me
suddenly. The situation, near the stream rather than up on the hill,
the orientation, the unusual length, the vine, the clearing--everything
pointed in the same direction. And then the old man's story. I was
frankly amazed.

"I turned and saw him standing in the doorway, his hand on the mud wall
for support, his eyes peering at me from his bowed head. If I had been
momentarily suspicious of a knowledge hitherto kept from me, all fled
at the sight of him. He was transparently honest and eager. 'What is it,
white man?' he quavered.

"'Mwezi,' said I, 'here is a strange thing and a wonder. You tell me
that you saw in your vision a white man, and I know from what you say
that he was a priest. You travelled far, and your spirit sent you
here. Well, I do not doubt that this house of yours was once a place of
worship, and I think it was built by white priests. Think now, have you
heard of no such thing?'

"He swayed a little as he stood, and did not answer at once. Then he
slowly shook his head. 'I have heard nothing, nothing,' he said. 'If it
be so, none know of these things, white man. Art thou sure? Thou wouldst
not mock me again.'

"'Mwezi,' I cried eagerly, 'I do not mock you. Why should I do any such
thing? I cannot yet tell certainly, but this place is such as we build
for prayers, and we may yet make sure. May I search more diligently?'

"'Do what thou wilt, my son,' said he, 'and if my hands cannot, my
spirit will help thee.'

"There and then I began a close scrutiny. I went outside, measured,
tapped, sought, but I found nothing more. If there had ever been a
stoup, a cross, a rude piscina, they had long since gone. But the more
I searched, the more sure grew my conviction that the place had been a
chapel. At last I sat down to rest, and while resting, I had an idea.

"'Mwezi,' I said, 'have you ever dug up the floor?'

"He shook his head. 'Why should I dig it up?' he asked.

"'Would you allow me to do so?' I queried.

"He looked doubtful. 'But why?' he asked again, suspiciously. 'And would
you dig even now?'

"I laughed. 'Well, not at once,' I said. 'We must find a new house for
you first. But if I am right, it may be that things are buried here,
or that there are stones which will tell me a tale. See, the flo