Phroso. Anthony Hope

embarrassed at my questions. Moreover I caught Spiro, the more truculent-looking of the pair, scowling at me more than once when he did not know I had my eye on him.

      These little mysteries, however, did nothing but add sauce to my delight as we sprang over the blue waters; and my joy was complete when, on the morning of the day I had appointed, the seventh of May, Denny cried ‘Land!’ and looking over the starboard bow I saw the cloud on the sea that was Neopalia. Day came bright and glorious, and as we drew nearer to our enchanted isle we distinguished its features and conformation. The coast was rocky save where a small harbour opened to the sea, and the rocks ran up from the coast, rising higher and higher till they culminated in a quite respectable peak in the centre. The telescope showed cultivated ground and vineyards, mingled with woods, on the slopes of the mountain; and about half-way up, sheltered on three sides, backed by thick woods, and commanding a splendid sea-view, stood an old grey battlemented house.

      ‘There’s my house,’ I cried in natural exultation, pointing with my finger. It was a moment in my life, a moment to mark.

      ‘Hurrah!’ cried Denny, throwing up his hat in sympathy.

      Demetri was standing near and met this ebullition with a grim smile.

      ‘I hope my lord will find the house comfortable,’ said he.

      ‘We shall soon make it comfortable,’ said Hogvardt; ‘I daresay it’s half a ruin now.’

      ‘It’s good enough now for a Stefanopoulos,’ said the fellow with a surly frown. The inference we were meant to draw was plain even to the point of incivility.

      At five o’clock in the evening we entered the harbour of Neopalia, and brought up alongside a rather crazy wooden jetty which ran some fifty feet out from the shore. Our arrival appeared to create great excitement. Men, women, and children came running down the narrow steep street which climbed up the hill from the harbour. We heard shrill cries, and a hundred fingers were pointed at us. We landed; nobody came forward to greet us. I looked round, but saw no one who could be the old lord; but I perceived a stout man who wore an air of importance, and walking up to him I asked him very politely if he would be so good as to direct me to the inn; for I had discovered from Demetri that there was a modest house where we could lodge that night; I was too much in love with my island to think of sleeping on board the yacht. The stout man looked at Denny and me; then he looked at Demetri and Spiro, who stood near us, smiling their usual grim smiles. At last he answered my question by another, a rather abrupt one:

      ‘What do you want, sir?’ And he lifted his tasselled cap a few inches and replaced it on his head.

      ‘I want to know the way to the inn,’ I answered.

      ‘You have come to visit Neopalia?’ he asked.

      A number of people had gathered round us now, and all fixed their eyes on my face.

      ‘Oh,’ said I carelessly, ‘I’m the purchaser of the island, you know. I have come to take possession.’

      Nobody spoke. Perfect silence reigned for half a minute.

      ‘I hope we shall get on well together,’ I said, with my pleasantest smile.

      Still no answer came. The people round still stared. But presently the stout man, altogether ignoring my friendly advances, said curtly,

      ‘I keep the inn. Come. I will take you to it.’

      He turned and led the way up the street. We followed, the people making a lane for us and still regarding us with stony stares. Denny gave expression to my feelings as well as his own;

      ‘It can hardly be described as an ovation,’ he observed.

      ‘Surly brutes!’ muttered Hogvardt.

      ‘It is not the way to receive his lordship,’ agreed Watkins, more in sorrow than in anger. Watkins had very high ideas of the deference due to his lordship.

      The fat innkeeper walked ahead; I quickened my pace and overtook him.

      ‘The people don’t seem very pleased to see me,’ I remarked.

      He shook his head, but made no answer. Then he stopped before a substantial house. We followed him in, and he led us upstairs to a large room. It overlooked the street, but, somewhat to my surprise, the windows were heavily barred. The door also was massive and had large bolts inside and outside.

      ‘You take good care of your houses, my friend,’ said Denny with a laugh.

      ‘We like to keep what we have, in Neopalia,’ said he.

      I asked him if he would provide us with a meal, and, assenting gruffly, he left us alone. The food was some time in coming, and we stood at the window, peering through our prison bars. Our high spirits were dashed by the unfriendly reception; my island should have been more gracious; it was so beautiful.

      ‘However it’s a better welcome than we should have got two hundred years ago,’ I said with a laugh, trying to make the best of the matter.

      Dinner, which the landlord himself brought in, cheered us again, and we lingered over it till dusk began to fall, discussing whether I ought to visit the lord, or whether, seeing that he had not come to receive me, my dignity did not demand that I should await his visit; and it was on this latter course that we finally decided.

      ‘But he’ll hardly come to-night,’ said Denny, jumping up. ‘I wonder if there are any decent beds here!’

      Hogvardt and Watkins had, by my directions, sat down with us; the former was now smoking his pipe at the window, while Watkins was busy overhauling our luggage. We had brought light bags, the rods, guns, and other smaller articles. The rest was in the yacht. Hearing beds mentioned, Watkins shook his head in dismal presage, saying,

      ‘We had better sleep on board, my lord.’

      ‘Not I! What, leave the island now we’ve got here? No, Watkins!’

      ‘Very good, my lord,’ said Watkins impassively.

      A sudden call came from Hogvardt, and I joined him at the window.

      The scene outside was indeed remarkable. In the narrow paved street, gloomy now in the failing light, there must have been fifty or sixty men standing in a circle, surrounded by an outer fringe of women and children; and in the centre stood our landlord, his burly figure swaying to and fro as he poured out a low-voiced but vehement harangue. Sometimes he pointed towards us, oftener along the ascending road that led to the interior. I could not hear a word he said, but presently all his auditors raised their hands towards heaven. I saw that some of the hands held guns, some clubs, some knives; and all the men cried with furious energy, ‘Nai, Nai. Yes, yes!’ Then the whole body—and the greater part of the grown men on the island must have been present—started off in compact array up the road, the innkeeper at their head. By his side walked another man whom I had not noticed before; he wore an ordinary suit of tweeds, but carried himself with an assumption of much dignity; his face I could not see.

      ‘Well, what’s the meaning of that?’ I exclaimed, looking down on the street, empty again save for groups of white-clothed women, who talked eagerly to one another, gesticulating and pointing now towards our inn, now towards where the men had gone.

      ‘Perhaps it’s their Parliament,’ suggested Denny; ‘or perhaps they’ve repented of their rudeness and are going to erect a triumphal arch.’

      These conjectures, being obviously ironical, did not assist the matter, although they amused their author.

      ‘Anyhow,’ said I, ‘I should like to investigate the thing. Suppose we go for a stroll?’

      The proposal was accepted at once. We put on our hats, took sticks, and prepared to go. Then I glanced at the luggage.

      ‘Since I was so foolish as to waste my money on revolvers—?’ said I, with an inquiring glance at Hogvardt.

      ‘The