ALL about you."
"Humph! Well, at present I'm making some microscopical studies of
insects. That's the reason for these glasses. The light is so
harsh in these latitudes that it affects the vision a trifle, and
every trifle counts in microscopy."
"Does the microscope add charm to the beetle?"
"Some day I'll show you, if you like. Just now it's the flea, the
national bird of Caracuna."
"The wicked flea?"
"Nobody knows how wicked until he has studied him on his native
heath."
"Doesn't the flea have something to do with plague? They say
there's plague in the city now. You knew all about the Dutch. Do
you know anything about the plague?"
"You've been listening to bolas."
"What's a bola?"
"A bola is information that somebody who is totally ignorant of
the facts whispers confidentially in your ear with the assurance
that he knows it to be authentic--in other words, a lie."
"Then there isn't any plague down under those quaint, old, red-
tiled roofs?"
"Who ever knows what's going on under those quaint, old, red-tiled
roofs? No foreigner, certainly."
"Even I can feel the mystery, little as I've seen of the place,"
said the girl.
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