50 I GO A-FISHING. 



twenty, a hundred lives on that voice. I had thought, 

 fancied, dreamed about it, until I had some sort of no- 

 tion that I had property in it. And this priest was the 

 robber of what I had, it seemed to me, possessed a life- 

 time. And I was strangely moved when I heard him 

 repeat tenderly, 'Darling, it is all over now; we will not 

 part again.' 



" They came out together and passed me, neither one 

 noticing my presence. He wore the dress of a Greek 

 priest. They marry wives ; so there was nothing very 

 strange about this meeting. She was dressed in the or- 

 dinary black-silk bag of a wealthy Oriental lady, and the 

 waddle which her loose shoes made necessary was the 

 remotest possible resemblance to the graceful step of the 

 day previous. 



" I followed them to the doorway, the street, down by 

 the Mediterranean Hotel, across the street of David, and 

 just there he turned and left her. While I looked at 

 him she was gone, and I lost them both in the crowd. 

 I had no object in following either. My little romance 

 of twenty-four hours was over, and I had seen the begin- 

 ning and end of it. 



" I went to my shop and sold silks till the sun set, and 

 then home, to sit by the doorway and dream. 



" How much I dreamed in those long years of Eastern 

 life. I dreamed the sunniest dreams — of bright coun- 

 tries, rich with olives and pomegranates, and palms bear- 

 ing dates of Ibreem ! I dreamed that night of my old 

 home in America. I heard the wind in the tree over 

 the gate. I heard the quail whistling in the corn-field 

 clown the valley. I heard the dash of the water over the 

 little mill-dam in the ravine. I heard the voice of my 

 father, stern, calm, not affectionate, but always kind. I 



