Lynborough saw them off, went into the library, sat down at his writing-table, and laid paper before him. But he sat idle for many minutes. Stabb came in, his arms full of books. “I think I left some of my stuff here,” he said, avoiding Lynborough’s eye. “I’m just getting it together.” “Drop that lot too. You’re not going to-morrow. Cromlech, there’s an armistice.” Stabb put his books down on the table, and came up to him with outstretched hand. Lynborough leant back, his hands clasped behind his head. “Wait for a week,” he said. “We may, Cromlech, arrive at an accommodation. Meanwhile, for that week, I do not use the path.” “I’ve been feeling pretty badly, Ambrose.” “Yes, I don’t think it’s safe to expose you to the charms of beauty.” He looked at his friend in good-natured mockery. “Return to your tombs in peace.” The next morning he received a communication from Nab Grange. It ran as follows:-- “The Marchesa di San Servolo presents her compliments to Lord Lynborough. The Marchesa will be prepared to consider any proposal put forward by Lord Lynborough, and will place no hindrance in the way of Lord Lynborough’s using the path across her property if it suits his convenience to do so in the meantime.” “No, no!” said Lynborough, as he took a sheet of paper. “Lord Lynborough presents his compliments to her Excellency the Marchesa di San Servolo. Lord Lynborough will take an early opportunity of submitting his proposal to the Marchesa di San Servolo. He is obliged for the Marchesa di San Servolo’s suggestion that he should in the meantime use Beach Path, but cannot consent to do so except in the exercise of his right. He will therefore not use Beach Path during the ensuing week.” “And now to pave the way for my proposal!” he thought. For the proposal, which had assumed a position so important in the relations between the Marchesa and himself, was to be of such a nature that a grave question arose how best the way should be paved for it. The obvious course was to set his spies to work--he could command plenty of friendly help among the Nab Grange garrison--learn the Marchesa’s probable movements, throw himself in her way, contrive an acquaintance, make himself as pleasant as he could, establish relations of amity, of cordiality, even of friendship and of intimacy. That might prepare the way, and incline her to accept the proposal--to take the jest--it was little more in hard reality--in the spirit in which he put it forward, and so to end her resistance.