The ground had been levelled for a few
yards, and the cliffs rose straight to the height of ten or twelve
feet; from the top of this artificial bank they ran again, in wooded
slopes, toward the peak of the mountain. I followed their course
with my eye, and five hundred or more feet above us, just beneath the
summit, I perceived a little wooden _chalet_ or bungalow. Blue smoke
issued from the chimneys, and, even while we looked, a figure came out
of the door and stood still in front of it, apparently looking down
toward the house.
"It's a woman," I pronounced.
"Yes, my lord. A peasant's wife, I suppose."
"I dare say," said I. But I soon doubted Watkins's opinion--in the
first place, because the woman's dress did not look like that of
a peasant woman; and, secondly, because she went into the house,
appeared again, and levelled at us what was, if I mistook not, a large
pair of binocular glasses. Now, such things were not likely to be
in the possession of the peasants of Neopalia. Then she suddenly
retreated, and through the silence of those still slopes we heard the
door of the cottage closed with violence.
"She doesn't seem to like the look of us," said I.
"Possibly," suggested Watkins, with deference, "she did not expect to
see your lordship here."
"I should think that's very likely, Watkins," said I.
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