"I suppose it’s some maliciousness on the part of that wretched Ben Green," he exclaimed. "He threatened that he would get even with me somehow, when I refused to give him what he asked for last time he was here. This is even worse than the cottage! That flaring red thing catches your eye wherever you look. He’s hoisted it half-mast high too! I wonder what he means by that? Sign of some misfortune of course, but I don’t see how he expects to bring it about. I’d like to go to law, and take the fellow down a peg, but I daren’t threaten him too much, or he might retaliate by stirring up things I would rather let alone." The evening post brought him a few lines from Ben, coolly placing the alternative before him of purchasing the land which he desired, but at double the price originally offered to old Timothy. "The value of the property has risen since my father’s death," wrote Ben, "as I am in treaty with someone for whom I intend to erect business premises thereon. This is absolutely the last chance for you to secure it at this figure, for from to-day the sum I shall ask must necessarily be considerably higher." "Ridiculous!" fumed Mr. Field. "I’m not going to be coerced into doing things against my will. Double the price, indeed! He may whistle for the two hundred pounds, but he’ll not get them! As for the building scheme, of course it’s only a ruse to force me into giving him the money. He can’t bluff me into believing for a minute that anyone really means to build on that crumbling cliff." It was a distinct shock to the millionaire when, a day or two later, he noticed bricks of a particularly virulent hue being piled up beside the flagstaff in full sight of his window. Apparently Ben was in earnest this time, for almost before Mr. Field could realize the full extent of the calamity, foundations had been laid, and the walls of a house rose as if by magic upon the edge of the cliff. Such an erection too, as it was! Every morning he woke to find it even more appalling than he had dreamed of in the night. When it was finished, an ugly square dwelling stared him in the face. The bottom half was built of red bricks, dotted here and there with yellow ones. The top half consisted of yellow bricks, variegated with red. A couple of long, unsightly chimneys stood like rabbit’s ears at each end of the roof, while two curtainless windows seemed to glare at him like bold, unblinking eyes from either side of the gaudy emerald-green door. "Could anything be worse?" he groaned, as he went to bed one evening after a long and dismal survey of the eyesore from the top of the tower. But worse was still to come. On the morrow when he rose as usual, and, drawn by a strange fascination, went at once to gaze upon the torturing sight, he almost choked with the mortification and fury which filled his breast. On the long, sloping roof of shiny slates were painted in huge white letters the words--