[*] The Strong and Beautiful, or, more accurately, the
     Beautiful in strength.

[+] The Kallikrates here referred to by my friend was a Spartan, spoken of by Herodotus (Herod. ix. 72) as being remarkable for his beauty.  He fell at the glorious battle of Plataea (September 22, B.C. 479), when the Lacedaemonians and Athenians under Pausanias routed the Persians, putting nearly 300,000 of them to the sword.  The following is a translation of the passage, “For Kallikrates died out of the battle, he came to the army the most beautiful man of the Greeks of that day—­not only of the Lacedaemonians themselves, but of the other Greeks also.  He when Pausanias was sacrificing was wounded in the side by an arrow; and then they fought, but on being carried off he regretted his death, and said to Arimnestus, a Plataean, that he did not grieve at dying for Greece, but at not having struck a blow, or, although he desired so to do, performed any deed worthy of himself.”  This Kallikrates, who appears to have been as brave as he was beautiful, is subsequently mentioned by Herodotus as having been buried among the {~Greek small letter Iota with PSILI~}{~Greek small letter Rho~}{~Greek small letter Epsilon with OXIA~}{~Greek small letter Nu~}{~Greek small letter Epsilon~}{~Greek small letter final Sigma~} (young commanders), apart from the other Spartans and the Helots.—­L.  H. H.

He paused a while, his head sunk upon his hand, and then continued—­

“My marriage had diverted me from a project which I cannot enter into now.  I have no time, Holly—­I have no time!  One day, if you accept my trust, you will learn all about it.  After my wife’s death I turned my mind to it again.  But first it was necessary, or, at least, I conceived that it was necessary, that I should attain to a perfect knowledge of Eastern dialects, especially Arabic.  It was to facilitate my studies that I came here.  Very soon, however, my disease developed itself, and now there is an end of me.”  And as though to emphasise his words he burst into another terrible fit of coughing.

I gave him some more whisky, and after resting he went on—­

“I have never seen my boy, Leo, since he was a tiny baby.  I never could bear to see him, but they tell me that he is a quick and handsome child.  In this envelope,” and he produced a letter from his pocket addressed to myself, “I have jotted down the course I wish followed in the boy’s education.  It is a somewhat peculiar one.  At any rate, I could not entrust it to a stranger.  Once more, will you undertake it?”

“I must first know what I am to undertake,” I answered.