ve heard
tell of ye from Mr. Lawson. Ye're an old friend of his, I understand."

"The oldest," I said. "And I am sorry to find that the place does not
agree with him. Why it doesn't I cannot imagine, for you look fit
enough. Has he been seedy for long?"

"It comes and it goes," said Mr. Jobson. "Maybe once a month he has a
bad turn. But on the whole it agrees with him badly. He's no' the man
he was when I first came here."

Jobson was looking at me very seriously and frankly. I risked a
question.

"What do you suppose is the matter?"

He did not reply at once, but leaned forward and tapped my knee. "I
think it's something that doctors canna cure. Look at me, sir. I've
always been counted a sensible man, but if I told you what was in my
head you would think me daft. But I have one word for you. Bide till
to-night is past and then speir your question. Maybe you and me will
be agreed."

The factor rose to go. As he left the room he flung me back a remark
over his shoulder--"Read the eleventh chapter of the First Book of
Kings."

After luncheon I went for a walk. First I mounted to the crown of the
hill and feasted my eyes on the unequalled loveliness of the view. I
saw the far hills in Portuguese territory, a hundred miles away,
lifting up thin blue fingers into the sky. The wind blew light and
fresh, and the place was fragrant with a thousand delicate scents.
Then I descended to the vale, and followed the stream up through the
garden. Poinsettias and oleanders were blazing in coverts, and there
was a paradise of tinted water-lilies in the slacker reaches. I saw
good trout rise at the fly, but I did not think about fishing. I was
searching my memory for a recollection which would not come. By-and-by
I found myself beyond the garden, where the lawns ran to the fringe of
Ashtaroth's Grove.

It was like something I remembered in an old Italian picture. Only, as
my memory drew it, it should have been peopled with strange
figures-nymphs dancing on the sward, and a prick-eared faun peeping
from the covert. In the warm afternoon sunlight it stood, ineffably
gracious and beautiful, tantalising with a sense of some deep hidden
loveliness. Very reverently I walked between the slim trees, to where
the little conical tower stood half in the sun and half in shadow.
Then I noticed something new. Round the tower ran a narrow path, worn
in the grass by human feet. There had been no such path on my f