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"I think," Lucia said, softly, "that this is the most peaceful place on earth. Would one ever believe that San Martina was less than a day's journey away!"
They were sitting out on the piazza watching the moon rise slowly over the crest of the dark Andiguas. A table by their side was piled with fruit, and Brown had just handed round little Dresden cups of perfectly made coffee. Dene was by no means a sybarite, but his establishment had proved quite equal to the unexpected demands upon it. Dinner had been served in such a manner as to inspire the President with considerably more respect than he had yet felt for this eccentric Englishman. After all, the man, whose cellar was evidently chosen with nice taste and who possessed in this out-of-the-way spot a cook equal to his own, was not altogether a fool. Lucia, more indifferent to these things, was yet extremely happy. Dene had been thoughtfulness itself so far as regards her comfort, and his pleasure at entertaining them was apparent.