Beyond the limits of his ordinary but within those of his occasional range was a solitary round tower on an eminence backed with wood, which had probably in old days been a landmark for hunters; but having in modern days no very obvious use, was designated, as many such buildings are, by the name of The Folly. The country people called it 'The Duke's Folly,' though who the Duke in question was nobody could tell. Tradition had dropped his name.
One fine Midsummer day, with a southerly breeze and a cloudless sky, the doctor, having taken an early breakfast, in the progress of which he had considerably reduced the altitude of a round of beef, set out with a good stick in his hand and a Newfoundland dog at his heels for one of his longest walks, such as he could only take in the longest days.
Arriving at the Folly, which he had not visited for a long time, he was surprised to find it enclosed, and having at the back the novelty of a covered passage, built of the same gray stone as the tower itself. This passage passed away into the wood at the back, whence was ascending a wreath of smoke which immediately recalled to him the dwelling of Circe.{ 1} Indeed, the change before him had much the air of enchantment; and the Circean similitude was not a little enhanced by the antique masonry,{ 2} and the expanse of sea which was visible from the eminence. He leaned over the gate, repeated aloud the lines of the _Odyssey_, and fell into a brown study, from which he was aroused by the approach of a young gentleman from within the enclosure.
1 (Greek passage) Od. k 145-152. I climbed a cliff with spear and sword in hand, Whose ridge o'erlooked a shady length of land: To learn if aught of mortal works appear, Or cheerful voice of mortal strike the ear. From the high point I marked, in distant view, A stream of curling smoke ascending blue, And spiry tops, the tufted trees above, Of Circe's palace bosomed in the grove. Thither to haste, the region to explore, Was first my thought. . .
The palace in a woody vale they found, High-raised of stone, a shaded space around. Pope.
'I beg your pardon, sir,' said the doctor, 'but my curiosity is excited by what I see here; and if you do not think it impertinent, and would inform me how these changes have come about, I should be greatly obliged.'