At five o’clock in the evening we entered the harbour of Neopalia, and brought up alongside a rather crazy wooden jetty which ran some fifty feet out from the shore. Our arrival appeared to create great excitement. Men, women, and children came running down the narrow steep street which climbed up the hill from the harbour. We heard shrill cries, and a hundred fingers were pointed at us. We landed; nobody came forward to greet us. I looked round, but saw no one who could be the old lord; but I perceived a stout man who wore an air of importance, and walking up to him I asked him very politely if he would be so good as to direct me to the inn; for I had discovered from Demetri that there was a modest house where we could lodge that night; I was too much in love with my island to think of sleeping on board the yacht. The stout man looked at Denny and me; then he looked at Demetri and Spiro, who stood near us, smiling their usual grim smiles. At last he answered my question by another, a rather abrupt one: ‘What do you want, sir?’ And he lifted his tasselled cap a few inches and replaced it on his head. ‘I want to know the way to the inn,’ I answered. ‘You have come to visit Neopalia?’ he asked. A number of people had gathered round us now, and all fixed their eyes on my face. ‘Oh,’ said I carelessly, ‘I’m the purchaser of the island, you know. I have come to take possession.’ Nobody spoke. Perfect silence reigned for half a minute. ‘I hope we shall get on well together,’ I said, with my pleasantest smile. Still no answer came. The people round still stared. But presently the stout man, altogether ignoring my friendly advances, said curtly, ‘I keep the inn. Come. I will take you to it.’ He turned and led the way up the street. We followed, the people making a lane for us and still regarding us with stony stares. Denny gave expression to my feelings as well as his own; ‘It can hardly be described as an ovation,’ he observed. ‘Surly brutes!’ muttered Hogvardt. ‘It is not the way to receive his lordship,’ agreed Watkins, more in sorrow than in anger. Watkins had very high ideas of the deference due to his lordship. The fat innkeeper walked ahead; I quickened my pace and overtook him. ‘The people don’t seem very pleased to see me,’ I remarked. He shook his head, but made no answer. Then he stopped before a substantial house. We followed him in, and he led us upstairs to a large room. It overlooked the street, but, somewhat to my surprise, the windows were heavily barred. The door also was massive and had large bolts inside and outside. ‘You take good care of your houses, my friend,’ said Denny with a laugh. ‘We like to keep what we have, in Neopalia,’ said he.