," said the Doctor, "we will have some talk
later. The wench's brother has returned from the war. We must find her a
husband."

"You misunderstand me," said Guido. "You do not think I am going to
throw my precious pearl to the swine? I have sworn to wed Margherita,
and wed her I shall, and that swiftly."

"Such an act of folly would only lead," said the Doctor, "to your
unhappiness and to hers. It is the selfish act of a fool. You must not
think of it."

"Ah!" said Guido, "you are young at seventy, Doctor, but you were old at
twenty-five, and you cannot know what these things mean."

"I was young in my day," said the Doctor, "and I found many such pearls;
believe me, they are all very well in their native shell. To move them
is to destroy their beauty."

"You do not understand," said Guido. "I have loved countless times; but
she is different. You never felt the revelation of the real, true thing
that is different from all the rest and transforms a man's life."

"No," said the Doctor, "I confess that to me it was always the same
thing." And for the second time that day the Doctor shivered, he knew
not why.

Soon after the meal was over the guests departed, and although the
Doctor detained Guido and endeavoured to persuade him to listen to the
voice of reason and commonsense, his efforts were in vain. Guido had
determined to wed Margherita.

"Besides which, if I left her now, I should bring shame and ruin on
her," he said.

The Doctor started--a familiar voice seemed to whisper in his ear: "She
is not the first one." A strange shudder passed through him, and he
distinctly heard a mocking voice laughing. "Go your way," he said, "but
do not come and complain to me if you bring unhappiness on yourself and
her."

Guido departed and the Doctor retired to enjoy his siesta.

For the first time during all the years he had lived at Naples the
Doctor was not able to sleep. "This and the hallucinations I have
suffered from to-day come from drinking that Cyprus wine," he said to
himself.

He lay in the darkened room tossing uneasily on his bed and sleep would
not come to him. Stranger still, before his eyes fiery letters seemed
to dance before him in the air. At seven o'clock he went out into the
garden. Never had he beheld a more glorious evening. He strolled down
towards the seashore and watched the sunset. Mount Vesuvius seemed
to have dissolved into a rosy haze; the waves of the sea were
phosphorescent. A fisherm