message to these poor insects
who squirm and wriggle in this bit of muck men call their world? God, man!
if only we, in our work, would heed the message of the hills!"

The novelist spoke with such intensity of feeling--with such bitter
sadness and regret in his voice--that Aaron King could not reply.

Turning, the artist unlocked the door, and they entered the cottage.

They found the interior of the house well arranged, and not in bad repair.
"Just the thing for a bachelor's housekeeping"--was the painter's
verdict--"but for a studio--impossible," and there was a touch of regret
in his voice.

"Let's continue our exploration," said the novelist, hopefully. "There's a
barn out there." And they went out of the house, and down the drive on the
eastern side of the yard.

Here, again, they saw the roses in full possession of the place--by man,
deserted. From foundation to roof, the building--a small simple
structure--was almost hidden under a mass of vines. There was one large
room below; with a loft above. The stable was in the rear. Built,
evidently, at a later date than the house, the building was in better
repair. The walls, so hidden without by the roses, were well sided; the
floors were well laid. The big, sliding, main door opened on the drive in
front; between it and the corner, to the west, was a small door; and in
the western end, a window.

Looking curiously from this window, Conrad Lagrange uttered an
exclamation, and hurried abruptly from the building. The artist followed.

From the end of the barn, and extending, the full width of the building,
to the west line of the yard, was a rose garden--such a garden as Aaron
King had never seen. On three sides, the little plot was enclosed by a
tall hedge of Ragged Robins; above the hedge, on the south and west, was
the dark-green wall of the orange grove; on the north, the pepper and
eucalyptus trees in the yard, and a view of the distant mountains; and on
the east, the vine-hidden end of the barn. Against the southern
wall,--and, so, directly opposite the trellised, vine-covered arch of the
entrance,--a small, lattice bower, with a rustic table and seats within,
was completely covered, as was the barn, by the magically woven tapestry
of the flowers. In the corner of the hedge farthest from the entrance they
found a narrow gate. Unlike the rest of the premises, the garden was in
perfect order--the roses trimmed and cared for; the walks neatly edged and
clean;