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right angles in the side…wall of a quite modern…looking dwelling。
After satisfying himself of this fact； he passed on before the
dwelling； but was amazed to see the wall reappear on the other side
exactly the sameold； ivy…grown； sturdy； uncompromising； and
ridiculous。
Could it actually be a part of the house？ He turned back； and
repassed the front of the building。 The entrance door was
hospitably open。 There was a hall and a staircase； butby all
that was preposterous！they were built OVER and AROUND the central
brick intrusion。 The wall actually ran through the house！ 〃A
country；〃 said Mr。 Clinch to himself； 〃where they build their
houses over ruins to accommodate them； or save the trouble of
removal； is；〃 but a very pleasant voice addressing him here
stopped his usual hasty conclusion。
〃Guten Morgen！〃
Mr。 Clinch looked hastily up。 Leaning on the parapet of what
appeared to be a garden on the roof of the house was a young girl；
red…cheeked； bright…eyed； blond…haired。 The voice was soft；
subdued； and mellow； it was part of the new impression he was
receiving； that it seemed to be in some sort connected with the
ivy…clad wall before him。 His hat was in his hand as he answered；
〃Guten Morgen！〃
〃Was the Herr seeking anything？〃
〃The Herr was only waiting a longtime…coming friend； and had
strayed here to speak with the before…known proprietor。〃
〃So？ But； the before…known proprietor sleeping well at present
after dinner； would the Herr on the terrace still a while linger？〃
The Herr would； but looked around in vain for the means to do it。
He was thinking of a scaling…ladder； when the young woman
reappeared at the open door； and bade him enter。
Following the youthful hostess； Mr。 Clinch mounted the staircase；
but； passing the mysterious wall； could not forbear an allusion to
it。 〃It is old； very old；〃 said the girl： 〃it was here when I
came。〃
〃That was not very long ago；〃 said Mr。 Clinch gallantly。
〃No； but my grandfather found it here too。〃
〃And built over it？〃
〃Why not？ It is very； very hard； and SO thick。〃
Mr。 Clinch here explained； with masculine superiority； the
existence of such modern agents as nitro…glycerine and dynamite；
persuasive in their effects upon time…honored obstructions and
encumbrances。
〃But there was not then what you callthisninitro…glycerine。〃
〃But since then？〃
The young girl gazed at him in troubled surprise。 〃My great…
grandfather did not take it away when he built the house： why
should we？〃
〃Oh！〃
They had passed through a hall and dining…room； and suddenly
stepped out of a window upon a gravelled terrace。 From this a few
stone steps descended to another terrace； on which trees and shrubs
were growing； and yet； looking over the parapet； Mr。 Clinch could
see the road some twenty feet below。 It was nearly on a level
with； and part of； the second story of the house。 Had an
earthquake lifted the adjacent ground？ or had the house burrowed
into a hill？ Mr。 Clinch turned to his companion； who was standing
close beside him； breathing quite audibly； and leaving an
impression on his senses as of a gentle and fragrant heifer。
〃How was all this done？〃
The maiden did not know。 〃It was always here。〃
Mr。 Clinch reascended the steps。 He had quite forgotten his
impatience。 Possibly it was the gentle； equable calm of the girl；
who； but for her ready color； did not seem to be moved by anything；
perhaps it was the peaceful repose of this mausoleum of the dead
and forgotten wall that subdued him； but he was quite willing to
take the old…fashioned chair on the terrace which she offered him；
and follow her motions with not altogether mechanical eyes as she
drew out certain bottles and glasses from a mysterious closet in
the wall。 Mr。 Clinch had the weakness of a majority of his sex in
believing that he was a good judge of wine and women。 The latter；
as shown in the specimen before him； he would have invoiced as a
fair sample of the middle…class German woman；healthy； comfort…
loving； home…abiding； the very genius of domesticity。 Even in her
virgin outlines the future wholesome matron was already forecast；
from the curves of her broad hips； to the flat lines of her back
and shoulders。 Of the wine he was to judge later。 THAT required
an even more subtle and unimpassioned intellect。
She placed two bottles before him on the table；one； the
traditional long…necked； amber…colored Rheinflasche； the other； an
old； quaint； discolored； amphorax…patterned glass jug。 The first
she opened。
〃This；〃 she said； pointing to the other； 〃cannot be opened。〃
Mr。 Clinch paid his respects first to the opened bottle； a good
quality of Niersteiner。 With his intellect thus clarified； he
glanced at the other。
〃It is from my great…grandfather。 It is old as the wall。〃
Mr。 Clinch examined the bottle attentively。 It seemed to have no
cork。 Formed of some obsolete； opaque glass； its twisted neck was
apparently hermetically sealed by the same material。 The maiden
smiled； as she said；
〃It cannot be opened now without breaking the bottle。 It is not
good luck to do so。 My grandfather and my father would not。〃
But Mr。 Clinch was still examining the bottle。 Its neck was
flattened towards the mouth； but a close inspection showed it was
closed by some equally hard cement； but not glass。
〃If I can open it without breaking the bottle； have I your
permission？〃
A mischievous glance rested on Mr。 Clinch； as the maiden answered；
〃I shall not object； but for what will you do it？〃
〃To taste it； to try it。〃
〃You are not afraid？〃
There was just enough obvious admiration of Mr。 Clinch's audacity
in the maiden's manner to impel him to any risk。 His only answer
was to take from his pocket a small steel instrument。 Holding the
neck of the bottle firmly in one hand； he passed his thumb and the
steel twice or thrice around it。 A faint rasping； scratching sound
was all the wondering girl heard。 Then； with a sudden； dexterous
twist of his thumb and finger； to her utter astonishment he laid
the top of the neck； neatly cut off； in her hand。
〃There's a better and more modern bottle than you had before；〃 he
said； pointing to the cleanly…divided neck； 〃and any cork will fit
it now。〃
But the girl regarded him with anxiety。 〃And you still wish to
taste the wine？〃
〃With your permission； yes！〃
He looked up in her eyes。 There was permission： there was
something more； that was flattering to his vanity。 He took the
wine…glass； and； slowly and in silence； filled it from the
mysterious flask。
The wine fell into the glass clearly； transparently； heavily； but
still and cold as death。 There was no sparkle； no cheap
ebullition； no evanescent bubble。 Yet it was so clear； that； but
for a faint amber…tinting； the glass seemed empty。 There was no
aroma； no ethereal diffusion from its equable surface。 Perhaps it
was fancy； perhaps it was from nervous excitement； but a slight
chill seemed to radiate from the still goblet； and bring down the
temperature of the terrace。 Mr。 Clinch and his companion both
insensibly shivered。
But only for a moment。 Mr。 Clinch raised the glas