"Let us see your work. Hand it round!" insisted the colonel and Miss X----, who had just left her haven of refuge in the carriage, and joined us still half asleep. Mr. Y---- hurriedly added a few more touches to his drawing and rose to collect his brushes and pencils. We glanced at his fresh wet picture and opened our eyes in astonishment. There was no lake on it, no woody shores, and no velvety evening mists that covered the distant island at this moment. Instead of all this we saw a charming sea view; thick clusters of shapely palm-trees scattered over the chalky cliffs of the littoral; a fortress-like bungalow with balconies and a flat roof, an elephant standing at its entrance, and a native boat on the crest of a foaming billow. "Now what is this view, sir?" wondered the colonel. "As if it was worth your while to sit in the sun, and detain us all, to draw fancy pictures out of your own head!" "What on earth are you talking about?" exclaimed Mr. Y----. "Do you mean to say you do not recognize the lake?" "Listen to him--the lake! Where is the lake, if you please? Were you asleep, or what?" By this time all our party gathered round the colonel, who held the drawing. Narayan uttered an exclamation, and stood still, the very image of bewilderment past description. "I know the place!" said he, at last. "This is Dayri--Bol, the country house of the Takur-Sahib. I know it. Last year during the famine I lived there for two months." I was the first to grasp the meaning of it all, but something prevented me from speaking at once. At last Mr. Y---- finished arranging and packing his things, and approached us in his usual lazy, careless way, but his face showed traces of vexation. He was evidently bored by our persistency in seeing a sea, where there was nothing but the corner of a lake. But, at the first sight of his unlucky sketch, his countenance suddenly changed. He grew so pale, and the expression of his face became so piteously distraught that it was painful to see. He turned and returned the piece of Bristol board, then rushed like a madman to his drawing portfolio and turned the whole contents out, ransacking and scattering over the sand hundreds of sketches and of loose papers. Evidently failing to find what he was looking for, he glanced again at his sea-view, and suddenly covering his face with his hands totally collapsed. We all remained silent, exchanging glances of wonder and pity, and heedless of the Takur, who stood on the ferry boat, vainly calling to us to join him. "Look here, Y----!" timidly spoke the kind-hearted colonel, as if addressing a sick child. "Are you sure you remember drawing this view?" Mr. Y---- did not give any answer, as if gathering strength and thinking it over. After a few moments he answered in hoarse and tremulous tones: "Yes, I do remember. Of course I made this sketch, but I made it from nature. I painted only what I saw. And it is that very certainty that upsets me so."