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The local deputy, Don Guistino Morena, had often promised his
Nepenthean constituents to look into the matter and see that something
was done. But he was a busy man. Up to the present he had apparently
not moved a finger.
And now this fountain, the last survivor of the twelve health-giving
springs, had suddenly run dry. . . .
The bad news spread like wild-fire. It was regarded--for reasons which
will presently appear--as a portent of gravest significance. The clergy
met in unofficial but well-attended conclave to deliberate as to what
attitude should be adopted towards the phenomenon, and what measures
taken to allay popular apprehensions.
There was gossip, too, at the Club. Most of its members were of the
LAISSEZ FAIRE or even rationalistic type, and one of them--an
unobtrusive Hindu who was suspected of wearing stays--went so far in his
indifference as to declare that the only result of the drying-up of the
fountain would be "one smell less on Nepenthe." A small but compact
minority, however, thought otherwise.


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