They took him, as a matter of course, for a
plantation inspector, arrived in the off-season. He was the only
passenger landed from the _P.M. Diaz_, which had dropped anchor
comfortably, in perfect weather, but would sail in the morning.
A light land-breeze blew off the mountains: but it passed over a mile
of water before rippling the sea, which, inshore, lay as glass.
The sunset from the Pacific lit up San Ramon above him, all terraced
and embowered.
Halted there, gazing up and taking stock of this Paradise before
scaling it, Foe could not be aware, though he might have guessed,
that half a hundred embrasures in the climbing foliage hid
field-glasses and telescopes of which he was the one and common
focus. Up at the hotel, one idler said to another, "Will it be
Morgansen this time, d'you think?" The other passed on the question
to Engelbaum, who was so far the master of his guests that he had
lazily commandeered the large telescope on the _galeria_, and without
gainsay. "If it's old Morgansen," the second man added, "we might
trot some way down the hill to wish him well.
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