e and enjoy the view?"

He was impossible. So, I wrote a check, took his bill of sale and became
the owner of a mountain, topped by a stone house that seemed to be half
ruin. But he did not know, and I did not tell him that I considered the
fountain alone worth the price that I had paid. In fact, I had come to
Italy to buy that fountain if I could; buy it and take it back to
America with me. I knew all about that curious piece of marble. George
Seabrook had written to me about it. Just one letter, and then he had
gone on, goodness knows where. George was like that, always on the move.
Now I owned the fountain and was already planning where I should place
it in my New York home. Certainly not in the rose garden.

I sat down on a marble bench and looked down on the valley. The
real-estate man was right. It was a delicate, delicious piece of
scenery. The surrounding mountains were high enough to throw a constant
shadow on some part of the valley except at high noon. There was no sign
of life, but I was sure that the vineyards were alive with husband-men
and their families. An eagle floated serenely on the upper air currents,
automatically adjusting himself to their constant changing.

Stretching myself, I gave one look at my car and then walked into the
house.

* * * * *

In the kitchen two peasants sat, an old man and an old woman. They rose
as I entered.

"Who are you?" I asked in English.

They simply smiled and waved their hands. I repeated my question in
Italian.

"We serve," the man replied.

"Serve whom?"

"Whoever is the master."

"Have you been here long?"

"We have always been here. It is our home."

His statement amused me, and I commented, "The masters come and go, but
you remain?"

"It seems so."

"Many masters?"

"Alas! yes. They come and go. Nice young men, like you, but they do not
stay. They buy and look at the view, and eat with us a few days and then
they are gone."

"And then the villa is sold again?"

The man shrugged. "How should we know? We simply serve."

"Then prepare me my dinner. And serve it outside, under the grapevine,
where I can see the view."

The woman started to obey. The man came nearer.

"Shall I carry your bags to the bedroom?"

"Yes. And I will go with you and unpack."

He took me to a room on the second floor. There was a bed there and a
very old chest of drawers. The floor, everything about the room was
spotlessly clean