“A dream which may yet turn out truth,” answered Justinian, with energy. “See how well I have prepared the ground. My people here are physically perfect; their morality is much above what is to be found in the islands of the Ægean. I have taught them to love work and loathe idleness. The island they dwell in contains all the beauties of nature in a small space. ‘Infinite riches in a little room,’ to quote Marlowe. They are starting fairly under my guidance, and they will develop, as their prototypes of Athens, into a keen, cultured, intellectual race, who may give this modern world as splendid gifts of genius as did their fathers of old. But the plant needs fostering, and I, the gardener, alas! am growing old; so when I die, who will attend to this delicate flower of artificiality. What I want is to find a successor who will do as I have done.” “He will be difficult to find.” “I fear so; unless”— Here Justinian paused abruptly, and walked rapidly along the mulberry avenue, in which they were now. Maurice waited to hear him speak, but he said nothing until he stood under the graceful Corinthian capitals of the temple pillars, when he suddenly came to a full stop, and looked at Maurice keenly. “Mr. Roylands, do you know what I think?” “No, sir.” “That it would be an excellent thing for you to give up your country-gentleman life in England, and come here.” “But for what reason?” “To be my successor.” Maurice stared at him in open-mouthed astonishment, but in another moment Justinian vanished. CHAPTER XX. A DIFFICULT QUESTION. If you this question strange decide, This way, that way, at your pleasure, It surely cannot be denied, If you this question strange decide, That Fate’s prerogative’s defied, And thus may grudge your self-won treasure, If you this question strange decide, This way, that way, at your pleasure.