“Do you hear your friend, sir?” he said to the Rector. “He thinks that I prefer that dull, smoky town to the country. Why, Athens is too narrow for me! I love the open lands, the plains, the mountains, the seas. Up in that city of yours I was weary, and I spoke to the priest of my friend. ‘Oh,’ I cried, ‘I will die of want of air in this place. Take me to the woods, where I can breathe and see the sun.’ So he gave me that letter to you,” addressing the Rector, “and I came here at once.” So this was the explanation of his presence in the little village—a very natural one surely, and Maurice felt somewhat ashamed of his late suspicions; but a new thought had entered his head, suggested by the statuesque pose of the Greek leaning against the tree, and he came forward eagerly. “Count Caliphronas,” he said quickly, “I am a sculptor, and I have the idea for a statue of Endymion—would you—would you”— “Ah, you want me to be a model, sir?” said the Count, laughing. “Eh, well, I do not mind in the least—you may command me.” “Thank you very much, if I”— “If you could only introduce me to a Diana, that would indeed be perfect.” “I suppose you are a kind of general lover, Count,” said the rector, turning round from a rose-tree with a smile. “I am not as bad as that, sir. No! I love! I love!” He stopped abruptly, and a shade came over his face. “Yes, I love,” he resumed quickly; “but my love is unfortunate.” “What! is any woman cold-hearted enough to refuse you?” observed Maurice, looking at him in amazement; for indeed a woman would be hard to please were she not satisfied with this splendid-looking youth. “There are women and women,” said Caliphronas enigmatically. “This one does not love me yet, but she will.” “When?” The Greek shot a keen glance at Maurice, and then observed, in an indifferent voice,— “When I do what I am requested to do.” Both men looked steadily at one another, and it seemed to Maurice as though there were a certain amount of menace visible on the face of Caliphronas, but such look speedily passed away, and he bounded lightly across the turf to where the cat was sitting. To the surprise of both the Rector and Maurice, she let this stranger take her up in his arms and smooth her fur. “Dear, dear!” said the Rector in an astonished tone; “what power do you possess over the animal world, Count? That cat will not let any one touch her as a rule.” “Oh, all animals take to me,” replied Caliphronas lightly, letting the cat down gently on the ground. “I can do anything with horses and dogs.” “Donatello!” whispered Maurice to himself. “He looks innocent enough, and yet that look—I must speak to Crispin, and ask his opinion of this man.” Meanwhile the Count was giving Carriston a description of his miseries at the Royland Arms.