h in self-defence, so pestered were
they by all but every person they passed; man, woman, and child beset
them for soldi, either frankly begging or offering a direction and then
extending their hands. The paper-mills were not romantic; the old women
who came along bending under huge bales of rags were anything but
picturesque. And it rained, it rained.

Wet and weary, they had no choice but to return to the inn. Elgar's
animation had given place to fretfulness; Mallard, after his miserable
night, eared little to converse, and would gladly have been alone. A
midday meal, with liberal supply of wine, helped them somewhat, and
they sat down to smoke in their bedroom. It rained harder than ever;
from the window they could see the old tower on the crag smitten with
white scud.

"Come now," said Mallard, forcing himself to take a livelier tone,
"tell me about those projects of yours. Are you serious in your idea of
writing?"

"Perfectly serious."

"And what are you going to write?"

"That I haven't quite determined. I am revolving things. I have ideas
without number."

"Too many for use, then. You need to live in some such place as this
for a few weeks, and clear your thoughts. 'Company, villainous
company,' is the first thing to be avoided."

"No doubt you are right"

But it was half-heartedly said, and with a restless glance towards the
window. Mallard, in whose heart a sick weariness conflicted with his
will and his desire, went on in a dogged way.

"I want to work here for a time." Work! The syllable was like lead upon
his tongue, and the thought a desolation in his mind. "Write to your
sister; get her to send your belongings from Casa Rolandi, together
with a ream of scribbling-paper. I shall be out of doors most of the
day, and no one will disturb you here. Use the opportunity like a man.
Fall to. I have a strong suspicion that it is now or never with you."

"I doubt whether I could do anything here."

"Perhaps not on a day like this; but it is happily exceptional.
Remember yesterday. Were I a penman, the view from this window in
sunlight would make the ink flow nobly."

Elgar was mute for a few minutes.

"I believe I need a big town. Scenes like this dispose me to idle
enjoyment. I have thought of settling in Paris for the next six months."

Mallard made a movement of irritation.

"Then why did you come here at all? You say you have no money to waste."

"Oh, it isn't quite so bad with me as all tha