swift gleam and
he craned his neck a little.

"What is it?" asked the artist, half turning.

"Nuthin'," said Uncle William, hastily, "nuthin'. 'T ain't wuth turnin'
your head for. I'm al'ays seein' things. Get up in the night, like
enough, and wander round the island, jest to see 'em. Go all over the
island some nights. You see a good deal that way--fust and last: little
critturs runnin' round, softlike, and the moon and stars--" Uncle
William was talking against time. His eye had lost interest in the
bay. It seemed to be fixed on the moon and stars. One ear was turned
expectantly toward the door.

The artist watched him with an amused smile. He never interrupted one of
Uncle William's monologues.

"I've spent a good deal o' my life," went on Uncle William, "lookin'
round at things."

The gravel crunched outside.

The artist started.

Uncle William turned a little. "Andy, like enough," he said. He rose and
went leisurely toward the door.

The figure of a tall man stood in it, surveying the room.

Uncle William's smile broke into radiance. It crinkled his eyes and nose
and mouth. "I said 't was you." He held out a big hand, and drew the man
into the room, peering behind him. A little look of disappointment came
over his face. "You all alone?" he demanded.

"I am at present," said the man, smiling. "I left a friend on the beach
below. I wasn't sure how I should find you." His courteous glance took
in the young man.

Uncle William turned quickly. "It's Mr. Curie," he said, "the one that
bought your picters. And he's left somebody--a friend--down below. Mebbe
you wouldn't mind stepping down and fetchin' 'em up."

"Of course." The young man rose, holding out a hand. "I'm glad to meet
you, sir. I shall be back in a minute. I'll bring him right up." His
step rang quick on the rock outside.

The two old men looked at each other.

Uncle William's face wore its roundest smile. "I wouldn't be s'prised if
he stayed quite a spell." He brought a chair and planted it in front of
the stranger. "Set down."

The man sat down, looking around the room. "It is good to be here," he
said.

Uncle William, with a hand on either knee, surveyed him over his
spectacles. "I saw 't was you 'fore you landed."

The man's face fell a little. "We wanted to surprise you--"

"You've s'prised _him_ all right. He hain't no idea what he's runnin'
to." He looked toward the door. "I reckon he'll stay an hour."

The man crossed one th