and asked if there was a place for him.
Because the name of John Sanbourne was known, an enthusiastic answer
came back with great promptness. This stirred Denin's heart, which,
despite his firm resolution, felt heavy and cold. He thought of Barbara
coming to the Mirador, only to find Mr. Bradley's workmen engaged in
tearing down the barrier between the big garden and the little one. But
now that his course of action was decided, he supplemented his first
cable to her with another. This was in case his "presentiment" were
wrong, and she had not started. He told her what his "good reason" was:
that he had sold the Mirador and was starting at once for Serbia.
Further explanations, he added, would be given when he wrote.

Never had a letter to Lady Denin been so difficult for John Sanbourne
to compose, for he could say only the things he least wished to say;
and so the result of his labor was, in the end, very short.
Nevertheless, it took hours to write.

The day after the sending of the letter was largely taken up by a visit
from Carl Pohlson Bradley and his man of business. Denin held the
millionaire to the last price named by himself, for he intended to use
the money largely for the benefit of the Serbian Red Cross. At last a
contract was signed, and the check paid into John Sanbourne's bank at
Santa Barbara. He had still all Wednesday and part of Thursday for
packing and disposing of his treasures. The task was easy, for the
treasures were few. He could "fold his tent like an Arab, and silently
steal away."

Denin did not expect ever to return to Santa Barbara. Having loved the
Mirador, and given it up, there was no longer anything tangible to call
him back. More likely than not, death which had come close to him in
France, would come closer still in Serbia. He would cast off his body
like an outworn cloak, and free of it, would knock once more at the
gate where, once, he had heard voices singing.

The one possession which Denin could not bear to give up, yet knew not
how to take, was the portrait of Barbara which he had made, and framed
in redwood. It was large, and the delicate tints of its pastels had to
be carefully protected. He could not possibly include it in his slender
"kit" for Serbia. At last he decided to pack frame and all with
precaution, carry the case to New York, and leave it in charge of
Eversedge Sibley. There would be time for a visit to Sibley before the
sailing of the expedition; and Denin wou