ial. He saw them pull
up before the great tumble-down Talayot which stands opposite the big
stone altar, and watched them produce lantern, shovel, and pickaxe, and
begin to dig; after which, feeling that his interest had evaporated (so
he said), or, more probably, being oppressed with sleepiness, he
returned to Alayor, and soon had his head under the bedclothes.

Now this was all understandable enough; but when that inquisitive
tombstone artificer deliberately affirmed, in spite of many attempts to
shake his memory, that the spoiling of the Talayot had taken place on
the night immediately preceding our arrival in Mahon and the arrival of
his most Catholic Majesty's mail steamer _Antiguo Mahones_, then
it seemed to Haigh and myself either that somebody was lying most
blackly, or that we ourselves could not believe certain of our own
senses which we had hitherto considered strictly reliable. For during
the gale there had been absolutely no steam communication with Mahon
from the Continent, and to Ciudadella steamers never run at any time.

"Of course," said Haigh, slowly swinging round the contents of his
glass and blinking thoughtfully at them--"of course there's the cable,
which nine days out of ten is in working order. And as this show seems
to be run on lines suitable for some place half-way between Egyptian
Hall and the Bethlehem Institution, we need be surprised at precious
little. But the idea of your _caffe_ friend with the spectacles
cabling across for some one here to copy the Recipe for him and send it
back by post is a leetle too strong. Of course the chances are several
millions to one against his knowing a soul in the island, much less the
address of such a person; but even supposing that did occur, and he had
an intimate friend here, we'll say, for the sake of argument, at
Ferreiras, why should he trust that friend? He must see the friend
would understand that the opportunity was one which would not occur
again in several score of lifetimes; and he might lay his boots on it
that the friend, be he never so confidential and honest, would not fail
to profit by the matter for his own ends. Because, you see, this earth
is peopled by human beings and not archangels. And besides this
trifling objection, doesn't it strike you that the message would never
land in the confidential friend's fingers at all?"

"I don't quite see that."

"It's simple, though. The message is handed in at Genoa. I think
there's a throu