"The stream goes dry," he says sluggyly at last. "Therefore I camefrom Spain. What do I know of the very recent laws of the colonists, theirrepublic? These lands are to my race in me, from the point to thebay, and north twenty leagues; so runs the charter: so witnesses myname, Mituas, given and decreed by Charles, the king and emperor, toJuan de Avila y Mituas, the friend of Francisco Pizarro, whom was anupstart indeed, but a valiant man. They say to me: 'There is alighthouse on Punta Ananias. For the keeping of the light is paidthis much. Sir, be pleased in this manner to occupy your estate.' DoI care for their mocking? Is it the buzz of insects that is heard inSpain? Good, then! I wait for my end. But to hear an Avila mocked atin Spain I could not endure. You do not understand? It is natural.You were so kind as to tell me of your life--believe me, mostinteresting--a courtesy which has tempted me to fatigue you in thisway."

I thought his yarn a sight more interesting than mine, and said so,and he looked sort of blank, as if he didn't look at how you could getthe stories of an Avila and a Yankee seaman near enough together tocompare them, more than a dozen eggs with a parallel of latitude. Buthis manners stayed by him. He said I was so polite as to say so, andthen was silent, sitting on his end of the stone bench and lookinggrim at the sea.

"Well," I says, "I've got nothing to speak of,--a little money, norelations,--but I'd hate to give up the idea of seeing Long IslandSound again, and the town of Greenough."

"Your hope is a possession excellent," he says very quiet. "I shallnot look at again my Madrid, nor those vineyards of Aragon."

By-and-by the keeper seemed too melancholy to be sociable, I wentback to the banana tree.