ferns and turfy patches of grass of the softest velvet
pile. In the most unlikely places, I stumbled across bubbling springs
of fresh water forcing its way through the rocks. How they originated,
was a mystery to me, for the island was separated from the mainland by
a mile, at least, of salt water.

What an ideal spot, I thought, for a picnic! Would not some of my
eccentric acquaintances at home,--the Duke of Athlane, for
instance,--dearly love to take the whole thing up by the roots and
transplant it in the centre of some of the artificial lakes they had
schemed and contrived, in wild attempts to make more beautiful the
natural beauties of their estates?

By this time, the warm air had dried my body. I climbed to the highest
point of the island,--a small plateau, covered with short turf; a
glorious place for the enjoyment of a sun bath. I lay down and
stretched myself.

My only regret then was that I did not have a book with me to complete
my Paradise.

Pillowed on a slight incline, I dreamily watched the scudding clouds,
then my eyes travelled across to the mainland. I could see the smoke
curl upward from my kitchen fire. I saw old Jake get into his boat,
followed by the drunken rascal of a dog, Mike. All was still and quiet
but for the seethe and shuffle of the sea.

Suddenly, on the other side of the water somewhere, but evidently far
away, a voice, untrained, but of peculiar sweetness, broke into my
drowsing. I listened for a time, trying to catch the refrain. As it
grew clearer, I tried to pick up the words, but they were in a tongue
foreign to me. They were not French, nor were they Italian. At last,
it struck me that they were Spanish words; the words of a Spanish
dancing song, which, when I was a gadding-about college boy, had been
popular among us. I recalled having heard that it was sung by the
chorus of a famous Spanish dancer, who, at one time, had been the rage
of London and the Provinces, but who had mysteriously vanished from the
footlights with the same suddenness as she had appeared there.

It was a haunting little melody, catchy and childishly simple; and it
had remained in my memory all these years, as is so often the case with
choruses that we hear in our babyhood.

Naturally, I was more than curious to see the singer, so I crept to the
top of the grassy knoll and peered over, searching the far side of the
island and over the water.

Away out, I discerned a small boat making i