be one)
is that my own values absolutely defy the oyster-knives of others. Not
more than twice or thrice in my life have I met a fellow-creature at
whose "Open Sesame" the treasures of my heart and brain stood instantly
revealed. My Fascinating Friend was one of these rare and sympathetic
beings.

I was lounging away a few days at Monaco, awaiting a summons to join
some relations in Italy. One afternoon I had started for an aimless and
rambling climb among the olive-terraces on the lower slopes of the Tete
du Chien. Finding an exquisite coign of vantage amid the roots of a
gnarled old trunk springing from a built-up semicircular patch of level
ground, I sat me down to rest, and read, and dream. Below me, a little
to the right, Monaco jutted out into the purple sea. I could distinguish
carriages and pedestrians coming and going on the chaussee between the
promontory and Monte Carlo, but I was far too high for any sound to
reach me. Away to the left the coast took a magnificent sweep, past the
clustering houses of Roccabruna, past the mountains at whose base
Mentone nestled unseen, past the Italian frontier, past the bight of
Ventimiglia, to where the Capo di Bordighera stood faintly outlined
between sea and sky. There was not a solitary sail on the whole expanse
of the Mediterranean. A line of white, curving at rhythmic intervals
along a small patch of sandy beach, showed that there was a gentle swell
upon the sea, but its surface was mirror-like. A lovelier scene there is
not in the world, and it was at its very loveliest. I took the _Saturday
Review_ from my pocket, and was soon immersed in an article on the
commutation of tithes.

I was aroused from my absorption by the rattle of a small stone hopping
down the steep track, half path, half stairway, by which I had ascended.
It had been loosened by the foot of a descending wayfarer, in whom, as
he picked his way slowly downward, I recognized a middle-aged German
(that I supposed to be his nationality) who had been very assiduous at
the roulette-tables of the Casino for some days past. There was nothing
remarkable in his appearance, his spectacled eyes, squat nose, and
square-cropped bristling beard being simply characteristic of his class
and country. He did not notice me as he went by, being too intent on his
footing to look about him; but I was so placed that it was a minute or
more before he passed out of sight round a bend in the path. He was just
turning the corn