"Sometimes," said Alton simply. "They get hold of me. Those old fellows went right down to the bed rock of human nature back there in Palestine, and it strikes me there's no great difference in that between now and then."
"When," said Townshead smiling, "I was a King in Babylon."
"No," said Alton reflectively. "You're a little late on time. The
Christian slave don't quite fit in."
Townshead glanced at him sharply, and said nothing, for the rancher had once or twice already somewhat astonished him.
"Well," said Alton, "tell me, Miss Nellie, were the lilies where the ashes hung over the lake? I want to know all about Carnaby."
The girl seemed somewhat thoughtful, and a trifle astonished, but she made the best use of her memory, and Alton listened gravely. "Yes," he said. "I seem to see it. The rose garden on the south side, the big lawn, and the lake. There's a little stream on the opposite side of it that comes down through the fern from the big beech wood."
"But," said the girl, "how could you know that?"
"I think I must have dreamt it," said Alton gravely. "Or perhaps my father told me. He used to talk of Carnaby, and I feel I know it well."
The girl stared at him in her wonder. "But what is Carnaby to you?" she said.
Alton rose up, and stood still a moment, somewhat grim in face. "It
should have been my father's, and now when I don't know that I want it,
I think it's mine," he said. "Anyway, I'm kind of tired, and I think
I'll turn in. Excuse me."