it. The longer I reflected the
more certain I felt that my friend could find all he wanted in the
guide-books.

None the less, I did my best: rowed him for a mile or two up the
river; took him out to sea, and along the coast for half a dozen
miles. The water was choppy, as it is under the slightest breeze from
the south-east; and the Journalist was sea-sick; but seemed to mind
this very little, and recovered sufficiently to ask my boatman two or
three hundred questions before we reached the harbour again. Then
we landed and explored the Church. This took us some time, owing to
several freaks in its construction, for which I blessed the memory
of its early-English builders. We went on to the Town Hall, the old
Stannary Prison (now in ruins), the dilapidated Block-houses, the
Battery. We traversed the town from end to end and studied the
barge-boards and punkin-ends of every old house. I had meanly ordered
that dinner should he ready half-an-hour earlier than usual, and, as
it was, the objects of interest just lasted out.

As we sat and smoked our cigarettes after dinner, the Journalist
said--

"If you don't mind, I'll he off in a few minutes and shut myself up in
your study. I won't he long turning out the copy; and after that I can
talk to you without feeling I've neglected my work. There's an early
post here, I suppose?"

"Man alive!" said I, "you don't mean to tell me that you're working,
this holiday?"

"Only a letter for the 'Daily ----' three times a week--a column and a
half, or so."

"The subject?"

"Oh, descriptive stuff about the places I've been visiting. I call it
'An Idler in Lyonesse.'"

"Why Lyonesse?"

"Why not?"

"Well, Lyonesse has lain at the bottom of the Atlantic, between Land's
End and Scilly, these eight hundred years. The chroniclers relate that
it was overwhelmed and lost in 1099, A.D. If your Constant Readers
care to ramble there, they're welcome, I'm sure."

"I had thought" said he, "it was just a poet's name for Cornwall.
Well, never mind, I'll go in presently and write up this place: it's
just as well to do it while one's impressions are still fresh."

He finished his coffee, lit a fresh cigarette, and strolled off to the
little library where I usually work. I stepped out upon the verandah
and looked down on the harbour at my feet, where already the vessels
were hanging out their lamps in the twilight. I had looked down thus,
and at this hour, a thousand times; and always th