At forty, wealthy by inheritance, he had given up his career of surgeon at the height of his national fame. He had always loved the sea; in his student twenties he had served as surgeon on one of the last of the old-fashioned passenger ships. Oceanography had always been his hobby; to explore the ocean depths was one of his dreams. Illogical in his intolerance of Arturo? I always thought so; indeed, I had once heard Polly tell him so, in Arturo’s absence. But she could not make him see it. He told us now what he had been doing these past weeks. Consulting with the scientists of the world governments; analyzing the conflicting world reports. Ah, so much had happened, kept from all publicity! A huge secret meeting of scientists from all the world governments had been held last week in London. Dr. Plantet had been there. This thing that had been growing upon them all for weeks, now was obvious. The world would have to be told, and preparations made to meet the new conditions--to fight! Dr. Plantet, essentially the fighter, must have played a leading part in this final discussion, forcing them to his views. It was growing upon me gradually as he talked. The strangeness of it, the strange, weird fear of it. “Fight--what?” I ventured. I glanced at Arturo, a slim young figure in white, with flowing white sleeves. He sat, chin cupped in his hands, with knees hunched up; in his intent white face, his dark dreaming eyes were gazing off at the rising moon. He seemed not to be thinking of his father’s words, but dreaming dreams of his own. I repeated, “Fight--what, Dr. Plantet?” From the house Polly came breathless, bearing the tray of refreshments. “The newscaster from Melbourne has been on the air--I’ve been listening to him. Father, they keep on making a joke of it! They’ve seen a mermaid on a desert island beach in Micronesia!” Arturo turned silently. Dr. Plantet said: “Did they give the position? What sort of mermaid? Who reported it?” “Yes; they gave an island at nine degrees thirty minutes N, one hundred and fifty-seven degrees twenty-five minutes E. I looked it up. There’s an unnamed island there, the tiniest of dots on the chart. Uninhabited--an atoll I imagine, of a few acres.” Dr. Plantet took some of the food; but I noticed that his hand was unsteady. Arturo gestured the tray away and sat brooding. * * * * *