Rachel really _did_ scream for joy at this news, and when, after some eager questioning she discovered that Mr. Sheston was actually going to the very hotel in which Diana’s father and mother had taken rooms, she was almost sure that whatever else happened, she and Diana would not miss an “adventure.” It was altogether delightful at St. Mary’s Bay. The weather was perfect. Diana’s father and mother were, next to her own, Rachel thought, the nicest father and mother in the world, and it was gratifying to find that they very much liked their little daughter’s new friend, Mr. Sheston. All day long, she and Rachel were out of doors, scrambling about bare-footed on the rocks, and enjoying themselves tremendously. At intervals, of course, they discussed their chances of an adventure, and, as the magic seventh day approached, their excitement increased. “It makes it such fun that he never says anything about the magic between whiles, doesn’t it?” Rachel observed on the morning of the day when something might be expected to happen. “He’s just like a nice old gentleman, except at ‘seven’ times. Can’t you imagine how people would stare at him if they knew he was Sheshà, and Dinocrates, and Cleon, and ever so many more?” “And that he can make Alexander’s beautiful horse come back again to the world, and fly with us to Halicarnassus!” put in Diana with a laugh of triumph. “They only think he’s a dear, clever old gentleman who knows all about things in the British Museum. It’s jolly to be us and to know ever so much more about him than just _that_!” “Don’t forget he’s promised to take us up the lighthouse this afternoon,” remarked Rachel, as they went into the hotel for lunch. They reminded him of this promise almost before he had taken his place opposite to them at the table, and an arrangement was made to meet on the terrace outside, at three o’clock. “After I’ve had my nap,” said Mr. Sheston, in his character as an old gentleman who took care of himself and could not do without his midday sleep. [Illustration] Punctually at three o’clock, however, he made his appearance on the terrace, and they all set out to walk to the lighthouse. It was built at the end of a long spur of rock which jutted out from the bay for quite half a mile, and when at last they reached the strong stone tower, both children thought how lonely was the spot on which it stood. It was great fun to climb the twisting stone staircase within the lighthouse and to come at last into the “lantern”—a round room at the top, from which there was a wonderful view of the great expanse of sea now calm and blue as any mountain lake. “Oh, I should like to live up here!” exclaimed Diana, enthusiastically, when the lighthouse-keeper had explained all about the working of the great shining lamp.