things about the world, and none had visited this island during
the last two centuries at any rate, or local tradition would have
recorded so wonderful a fact. Were there, then, once edifices
covered with elegant carving standing on this place, and were
they adorned with lovely statues that would not have disgraced
the best period of Greek art? The thing was incredible except on
the supposition that these were relics of an utterly lost
civilisation.

Bickley was as much puzzled as myself. All he could say was
that the world was infinitely old and many things might have
happened in it whereof we had no record. Even Bastin was excited
for a little while, but as his imagination was represented by
zero, all he could say was:

"I suppose someone left them there, and anyhow it doesn't
matter much, does it?"

But I, who have certain leanings towards the ancient and
mysterious, could not be put off in this fashion. I remembered
that unapproachable mountain in the midst of the lake and that on
it appeared to be something which looked like ruins as seen from
the top of the cliff through glasses. At any rate this was a
point, that I might clear up.

Saying nothing to anybody, one morning I slipped away and
walked to the edge of the lake, a distance of five or six miles
over rough country. Having arrived there I perceived that the
cone-shaped mountain in the centre, which was about a mile from
the lake shore, was much larger than I had thought, quite three