As she neared the structure with its slowly turning sails, a faint sound of groaning machinery came to her ears from within. There seemed to be no one about, so she went to a door at the front of the mill, lifted the heavy wooden bar that kept it closed, heaved the door open and stepped inside into surprisingly cool darkness. Once her eyes adjusted to the inner gloom, she could make out crude machinery like a giant clockwork standing before her. To one side a great belt moved, attached to a vertical spindle from which seemed to emanated a wet swishing sound. Moving closer to investigate this phenomenon, she discovered that the spindle was the uppermost part of a pumping mechanism that lay beneath the ground at the bottom of a sort of well, and she could see water churning in its depths. The water appeared to be flowing into a subterranean culvert, which led away from the mill. Curious, she went back outside and, following the direction the culvert had taken, spotted a squat mortared-stone structure built directly into the hillside. The structure had only one entrance, a heavy iron-bound oak door that was slightly ajar. From within came the sound of a deep voice. Someone was singing, absently. Presently, a middle-aged man with unruly grey moustache, work clothes and a dishevelled appearance, emerged, spotted Kara, and smiled.
'You must be Kara, the Señora's young guest,' he said in heavily accented English that carried Italian overtones. 'I am Guiseppe, the caretaker. Exploring, are you?' He closed the heavy door behind him with a thud and padlocked it as he said this.
'Is that some sort of reservoir?' Kara asked him.
The man raised an eyebrow, humorously. 'There is another kind that I am not aware of? But yes, this is the reservoir which provides running water to the Casa, and also water for irrigation. The mill pumps water from the lake up the hill into the reservoir, and the water runs downhill once more whenever the lines are opened.' He paused to give her a speculative look. 'You are going to stay, eh? Or are you going soon to Port Haven?'
Kara made a face and shrugged. 'I don't know. I won't know anything about Port Haven until I actually see it.'
Guiseppe raised an eyebrow. 'Why haven't you gone to have a look?'
'Have a look?' Kara echoed, looking about doubtfully.
'Come,' Guiseppe gestured, 'I will turn off the pump and show you.'
He led her to a narrow trail that cut close between the mill and dense bush that grew behind, and up a steep, winding path that meandered its way through successive knees of rock and stands of trees, until it ended at a flat space that was deeply wooded at first, then thinned out gradually until Kara found herself standing at the top of only one of a series of green hills that seemed terraced from top to bottom except for swaths of trees and shrubs which had been planted to prevent erosion. The hillsides drew together at the bottom, where lay a rocky bay full of boat-filled marinas and ramshackle buildings, that was centred by a smaller cove which was surrounded by houses.