MYSTERY OF AMAGANSET. 335 



who was staring with all her eyes, and doing nothing. I 

 said, ' Will you give me some milk ?' She looked at me, 

 but didn't move. She is French, I said, and repeated my 

 request in French. She only stared the more. Try her 

 in Italian, said the Effendi; and he tried her in Italian, 

 but she only stared. Then, in a fit of laughing despera- 

 tion, I growled at her two words in Arabic, and she sprang 

 for the milk, with a bright smile on her face, and brought 

 it. Now that was odd enough in a little American sea- 

 shore inn, ten miles from a railway. But it was explained 

 very simply afterward. She was a Syrian girl, brought 

 home as a servant by an American lady who happened 

 to be in the hotel, and had sent her to help serve the 

 crowd. Nevertheless, you have the foundation for a ro- 

 mance in that story." 



"While you are on the subject of American romances," 

 said Mrs. Ward, " I'll read you a letter from the Effendi 

 himself, written some years ago, when we had been at 

 Montauk together. I don't vouch for the truth of the 

 story, but it fits the subject. Wait till I go and find it." 



So we smoked in silence, and the twilight grew dark, 

 and at length Mrs. Ward returned, and, sitting just within 

 the long window, read what she called 



THE MYSTERY OF AMAGANSET. 



"We left Montauk in the last hours of a delicious. sum- 

 mer day. As we crossed the plain at Fort Pond we put 

 up the largest flock of plover that I have ever seen, and 

 got a shot into them at a long distance, which added six 

 to the heap already covering the carriage-bottom. The 

 noise of their flight was like thunder, scaring the cattle 

 that grazed on the plain. 



" The sun was setting as we passed Stratton's, and we 



