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"But he can tell you all about the
island. And now come home with me, Bishop. I feel as if it were time
for luncheon. It must be about half-past twelve."
Mr. Heard took out his watch.
"Half-past twelve to the minute," he said.
"I thought to. A man's best clock is his stomach. We have only a few
hundred yards to go. Hot, isn't it? This infernal south wind. . . ."
The Villa Khismet was one of the surprises of Nepenthe. It lay somewhat
out of the way, at the end of a narrow, gloomy and tortuous lane. Who
would have dreamt of finding a house of this kind in such a situation?
Who would have expected, on passing through that mouldy wooden gateway
in the wall, to find himself in a courtyard that recalled the exquisite
proportions and traceries of the Alhambra--to be able to wander thence
under fretted arches through a maze of marble-paved Moorish chambers,
great and small, opening upon each other at irregular angles with a
deliciously impromptu effect? The palace had been built regardless of
expense.


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