Now it was, that turning his head, Bellew espied Anthea watching him, whereupon he shouldered his fork, and coming to where she sat upon a throne of hay, he sank down at her feet with a luxurious sigh. She had never seen him without a collar, before, and now she could not but notice how round, and white, and powerful his neck was, and how the muscles bulged upon arm, and shoulder, and how his hair curled in small, damp rings upon his brow.

"It is good," said he, looking up into the witching face, above him, "yes, it is very good to see you idle--just for once."

"And I was thinking it was good to see you work,--just for once."

"Work!" he exclaimed, "my dear Miss Anthea, I a.s.sure you I have become a positive glutton for work. It has become my earnest desire to plant things, and grow things, and chop things with axes; to mow things with scythes. I dream of pastures, and ploughs, of pails and pitchforks, by night; and, by day, reaping-hooks, hoes, and rakes, are in my thoughts continually,--which all goes to show the effect of this wonderful air of Arcadia. Indeed, I am as full of suppressed energy, these days, as Adam is of the 'Old Adam.' And, talking of Adam reminds me that he has solemnly pledged himself to initiate me into the mysteries of swinging a scythe to-morrow morning at--five o'clock! Yes indeed, my heart bounds responsive to the swish of a scythe in thick gra.s.s, and my soul sits enraptured upon a pitch-fork."

"How ridiculous you are!" she laughed.

"And how perfectly content!" he added.

"Is anyone ever quite content?" she sighed, glancing down at him, wistful-eyed.

"Not unless they have found Arcadia," he answered.

"Have you then?"

"Yes," he nodded complacently, "oh yes, I've found it."

"Are you--sure?"

"Quite sure!"

"Arcadia!" she repeated, wrinkling her brows, "what is Arcadia and--where?"

"Arcadia," answered Bellew, watching the smoke rise up from his pipe, with a dreamy eye, "Arcadia is the--Promised Land,--the Land that everyone tries to find, sometime or other, and may be--anywhere."

"And how came you to--find it?"

"By the most fortunate chance in the world."

"Tell me," said Anthea, taking a wisp of hay, and beginning to plait it in dexterous, brown fingers, "tell me how you found it."

"Why then you must know, in the first place," he began in his slow, even voice, "that it is a place I have sought for in all my wanderings, and I have been pretty far afield,--but I sought it so long, and so vainly, that I began to think it was like the El Dorado of the old Adventurers, and had never existed at all."

"Yes?" said Anthea, busy with her plaiting.

"But, one day,--Fate, or Chance, or Destiny,--or their benevolent spirit, sent a certain square-shouldered Waggoner to show me the way, and, after him, a very small Porges,--bless him!--to lead me into this wonderful Arcadia."

"Oh, I see!" nodded Anthea, very intent upon her plaiting.

"But there is something more," said Bellew.

"Oh?" said Anthea.

"Shall I tell you?"

"If--it is--very interesting."

"Well then, in this delightful land there is a castle, grim, embattled, and very strong."

"A castle?" said Anthea, glancing up suddenly.

"The Castle of Heart's Desire."

"Oh!" said she, and gave all her attention to her plaiting again.

"And so," continued Bellew, "I am waiting, very patiently, until, in her own good time, she who rules within, shall open the gate to me, or--bid me go away."

Into Bellew's voice had crept a thrill no one had ever heard there before; he leaned nearer to her, and his dreamy eyes were keen now, and eager. And she, though she saw nothing of all this, yet, being a woman, knew it was there, of course, and, for that very reason, looked resolutely away. Wherefore, once again, Bellew heartily wished that sunbonnets had never been invented.

So there was silence while Anthea stared away across the golden corn-fields, yet saw nothing of them, and Bellew looked upon those slender, capable fingers, that had faltered in their plaiting and stopped. And thus, upon the silence there broke a sudden voice shrill with interest:

"Go on, Uncle Porges,--what about the dragons? Oh, please go on!--there's always dragons in 'chanted castles, you know, to guard the lovely Princess,--aren't you going to have any dragons that hiss, you know, an' spit out smoke, an' flames? Oh!--do please have a dragon." And Small Porges appeared from the other side of the hay-mow, flushed, and eager.

"Certainly, my Porges," nodded Bellew, drawing the small figure down beside him, "I was forgetting the dragons, but there they are, with scaly backs, and iron claws, spitting out sparks and flames, just as self-respecting dragons should, and roaring away like thunder."

"Ah!" exclaimed Small Porges, nestling closer to Bellew, and reaching out a hand to Auntie Anthea, "that's fine! let's have plenty of dragons."

"Do you think a--er--dozen would be enough, my Porges?"

"Oh yes! But s'pose the beautiful Princess didn't open the door,--what would you do if you were really a wandering knight who was waiting patiently for it to open,--what would you do then?"

"Shin up a tree, my Porges."

"Oh but that wouldn't be a bit right--would it, Auntie?"

"Of course not!" laughed Anthea, "it would be most un-knight-like, and very undignified."

"'Sides," added Small Porges, "you couldn't climb up a tree in your armour, you know."

"Then I'd make an awful' good try at it!" nodded Bellew.

"No," said Small Porges, shaking his head, "shall I tell you what you ought to do? Well then, you'd draw your two-edged sword, an' dress your shield,--like Gareth, the Kitchen Knave did,--he was always dressing his shield, an' so was Lancelot,--an' you'd fight all those dragons, an'

kill them, an' cut their heads off."

"And then what would happen?" enquired Bellew.

"Why then the lovely Princess would open the gate, an' marry you of course, an' live happy ever after, an' all would be revelry an' joy."

"Ah!" sighed Bellew, "if she'd do that, I think I'd fight all the dragons that ever roared,--and kill them too. But supposing she--er--wouldn't open the gate."

"Why then," said Small Porges, wrinkling his brow, "why then--you'd have to storm the castle, of course, an' break open the gate an' run off with the Princess on your charger,--if she was very beautiful, you know."

"A most excellent idea, my Porges! If I should happen to find myself in like circ.u.mstances, I'll surely take your advice."

Now, as he spoke, Bellew glanced at Anthea, and she at him. And straightway she blushed, and then she laughed, and then she blushed again, and, still blushing, rose to her feet, and turned to find Mr.

Ca.s.silis within a yard of them.