In a less civilised country Logotheti's servants might have supposed

that he retired to this solitude to practise necromancy or study

astrology, or to celebrate the Black Mass. But his matter-of-fact

Frenchmen merely said that he was 'an original'; they even said so with

a certain pride, as if there might be bad copies of him extant

somewhere, which they despised. One man, who had an epileptic aunt,

suggested that Logotheti probably had fits, and disappeared into the

inner room in order to have them alone; but this theory did not find

favour, though it was supported, as the man pointed out, by the fact

that the double doors of the room were heavily padded, and that the

whole place seemed to be sound-proof, as indeed it was. On the other

hand there was nothing about the furniture within that could give

colour to the supposition, which was consequently laughed at in the

servants' hall. Monsieur was simply 'an original'; that was enough to

explain everything, and his order as to being left undisturbed was the

more strictly obeyed because it would apparently be impossible to

disturb him with anything less than artillery.

It is a curious fact that when servants have decided that their masters

are eccentric they soon cease to take any notice of their doings,

except to laugh at them now and then when more eccentric than usual. It

being once established that Logotheti was an original he might have

kept his private room full of Bengal tigers for all the servants hall

would have cared, provided the beasts did not get about the house. It

was a 'good place,' for he was generous, and there were perquisites;

therefore he might do anything he pleased, so long as he paid--as

indeed most of us might in this modern world, if we were able and

willing to pay the price.

On this particular evening Logotheti dined at home alone, chiefly on a

very simple Greek pilaff, Turkish preserved rose leaves and cream

cheese, which might strike a Parisian as strange fare, unless he were a

gourmet of the very highest order. Having sipped a couple of small

glasses of very old Samos wine, Logotheti ordered lights and coffee in

his private room, told the servants not to disturb him, went in and

locked the outer door.

Then he gave a sigh of satisfaction and sat down, as if he had reached

the end of a day's journey. He tasted his coffee, and kicked off first

one of his gleaming patent leather slippers and then the other, and

drew up his feet under him on the broad leather seat, and drank more

coffee, and lit a big cigarette; after which he sat almost motionless

for at least half an hour, looking most of the time at a statue which

occupied the principal place in the middle of the room. Now and then he

half closed his eyes, and then opened them again suddenly, with an

evident sense of pleasure. He had the air of a man completely satisfied

with his surroundings, his sensations and his thoughts. There was

something almost Buddha-like in his attitude, in his perfect calm, in

the expression of his quiet almond eyes; even the European clothes he

wore did not greatly hinder the illusion. Just then he did not look at

all the sort of person to do anything sudden or violent, to pitch order

to the dogs and tear the law to pieces, to kill anything that stood in

his way as coolly as he would kill a mosquito, or to lay violent hands

on what he wanted if he was hindered from taking it peacefully. Neither

does a wild-cat look very dangerous when it is dozing.




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