how we embarked again
and came to this plain which lies at our feet. So much as I believe
will concern you you have heard: and the grave you shall look upon
to-morrow."

Master d'Arfet had left off cracking his joints, and for a while after
the end of the story sat drumming with his finger-tips on the table.
At length he looked up, and says he--

"I may suppose, Count Zarco, that as governor of this island you have
power to allot and sell estates upon it on behalf of the King of
Portugal?"

"Why, yes," answered Gonsalvez; "any new settler in Funchal must make
his purchase through me: the northern province of Machico I leave to
Tristram Vaz."

"I speak of your southern province, and indeed of its foreshore, the
possession of which I suppose to be claimed by the crown of Portugal."

"That is so."

"To be precise I speak of this Gulf of Cedars, as you call it. You
will understand that I have not seen it: I count on your promise to
take me thither to-morrow. But it may save time, and I shall take
it as a favour if--without binding yourself or me to any immediate
bargain--you can give me some notion of the price you would want for
it. But perhaps"--here he lifted his eyes from the table and glanced
at Gonsalvez cunningly--"you have already conveyed that parcel of
land, and I must deal with another."

Now Gonsalvez had opened his mouth to say something, but here
compressed his lips for a moment before answering.

"No: it is still in my power to allot."

"In England just now," went on Master d'Arfet "we should call ten
shillings an acre good rent for unstocked land. We take it at sixpence
per annum rent and twenty years' purchase. I am speaking of reasonably
fertile land, and hardly need to point out that in offering any
such price for mere barren foreshore I invite you to believe me
half-witted. But, as we say at home, he who keeps a fancy must pay a
tax for it: and a man of my age with no heir of his body can afford to
spend as he pleases."

Gonsalvez stared at him, and from him to me, with a puzzled frown.

"Bartholomew," said he, "I cannot understand this gentleman. What can
he want to purchase in the Gulf of Cedars but his wife's grave? And
yet of such a bargain how can he speak as he has spoken?"

I shook my head. "It must be that he is a merchant, and is too old to
speak but as a haggler. Yet I am sure his mind works deeper than this
haggling." I paused, with my eyes upon Master d'Arfet's hands, which