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Sowing his wild oats,
he called it. During this last visit he had come across the tracks of
an almost extinct tribe of gipsies that roamed up and down the glens of
those mysterious mountains whose purple summits were visible, on clear
days, from his own windows. After complex and costly negotiations they
had allowed themselves to be embarked, for this one night only, in a
capacious sailing boat to Nepenthe, in order to pleasure Mr. Keith's
guests. And here they sat, huddled together in dignified repose and
abashed, as it seemed, by the strangeness of their surroundings; a
bizarre group stained to an almost negro tint by exposure to sun and
winds and rain.
Here they sat--gnarled old men and sinewy fathers of families, with
streaming black hair, golden earrings, hooded cloaks of wood and
sandals bound with leathern thongs. Mothers were there, shapeless
bundles of rags, nursing infants at the breast. The girls were draped
in gaudy hues, and ablaze with metal charms and ornaments on forehead
and arms and ankles.


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