it. Had cabled to Paris to send out some more men. Good job he'd had
the notion of asking Gruenbaum about it, eh? Might have lost our money.
Now he came to think of it, that Greek didn't look very reliable. Was I
coming back on board?

"We paused on the beach, where a few fishing boats were drawn up and the
nets lay in the sun drying.

"'I don't think I will,' I said. 'I guess I'll take a walk up the cliff
over there. When will you pull off to the buoys?'

"'Not a minute after five,' he returned. 'It's none so safe here at
night. Steam ready all the time remember, Fred. Gruenbaum was just giving
me a friendly warning.'

"I started off for a walk up the cliff. The point where the path cut
round the corner stood sharp against the sky and led me on. As I gained
the beginning of the rise I could look back and down into Gruenbaum's
garden where lemon, fig, plum, and almond trees grew thickly above green
grass cut into sectors by paths of white marble flags and with a
fountain sending a thin jet into the air. I could see children playing
about under the trees, but there were no birds. There were no birds on
the island. I realized this perfectly irrelevant fact at that moment,
and I became aware of the singular isolation of this man living under
the gigantic shadow of the mountain. It gave me a sudden and profound
consciousness of his extreme security against the designs oL imaginative
illusionists. The vast bulk of the man became identified in my mind with
the tremendous mass of rock against which I was leaning. The momentary
glimpses into his office, the memory of the bizarre conjunction of
ancient statuary with the furniture of business and money-making, the
harsh voice reverberating through the lofty chambers, gave me a feeling
that I had been assisting at some incredible theatrical performance. I
started off again. I felt I needed a walk. After all, these reflections
were but an idle fancy. Jack and I were not likely to risk our small
savings in any such wild-cat schemes. Jack's words about pulling off to
the buoys had recalled me to a sense of serious responsibility. One
always had that hanging over one while in Ipsilon. Gruenbaum, from his
secure fastness under the mountain, was familiar with the incalculable
treachery of the wind and sea.

"I was soon far above the habitation of men. Above me slanted the masses
of weathered limestone and marble; below, reduced to the size of a
child's toy, I could see the _Manola