“Now, I’d like some coffee please.”“Oh, forgive me, where are my manners. Butterscotch?”“Naturally my good man and please be quick about i....”I hurried into the kitchen in a state of growing anticipation. Tamsin was in charge tonight. I had brewed the butterscotch coffee that we both loved and brought it out on a tray with my best Wedgwood china. As I set the tray down on the coffee table, I could tell that she appreciated the trouble that I had gone to. She was English to the core and afternoon. The man's stride seemed purposeful and if he had taken notice of the Pilgrim walking on the Path, he showed no sign of alarm, surprise or fear. It was as if he would not stop, as if he was nothing but a phantom, an apparition of the Holy Lands.Maybe it was an apparition that he was seeing. Stranger things had been heard around the life-stones during the coldest nights at his people's gatherings. It would not be without precedent that he should meet a ghost of the Holy Lands, perhaps some other. More

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