"No, not for twenty pounds." "For pity's sake! We are Armenians, fleeing for our lives." "You Armenians are all rogues," said the captain. "No is no," and he turned away. "For CHRIST'S sake, then!" cried the young man in an agony. The captain turned back again. "Why did you not say that before?" he asked, in an altered voice. "I am a Christian man, and I cannot refuse _that_ plea." "Thank God!" the young man almost sobbed.--"_My sister._" In less than a minute more the boy and girl were helped up the ladder by willing hands, and all three stood together on the deck--_safe_. Then the great heart of the ship began to throb, and she was soon steaming merrily out of the harbour. John Grayson came on deck again, and seeing three Armenians standing by the side of the vessel, drew near, laid his hand on the young man's shoulder, and looked him in the face. "Kaspar Hohanian!" he exclaimed in surprise. "Is it possible this is you?" Kaspar seemed scarcely able to speak even yet. But he drew a long breath, tried to compose himself, and returned Jack's look of inquiry. "Who are you?" he asked. "Do you not know me? Do you not remember our awful week together in the prison at Urfa, expecting death. I am John Grayson." "With that white hair! I thought you were dead." "So I thought of you, and with more reason. I thought all the band who watched and prayed together through those sad days were gone to God--save me." For a moment both were silent. Jack did not care, until he knew more, to look again in the face of his friend. He could not but remember there was only _one_ way of escape for any of that devoted group. Kaspar divined his thought, and said,-- "No; I have not denied the faith. Though, if the same trial came again, I dare not answer for myself. Strangely enough, Mr. Grayson, it was through you my life was saved." "How could that be?" "I will tell you when I find my sister a place to rest in." "The young lady is your sister? May I----" But the captain came up just then, interrupting them. "Come along," he said to Kaspar, with rough kindliness, "I will find a place to stow you in. Don't be afraid, young lady." Then to the boy, "Run along, my boy, to that ladder you see leading down below." But the lad stood motionless, his large brown eyes staring vaguely in the direction of the voice. "He is blind, sir," Kaspar explained. "During the massacre he hid in a dry well. He was there several hours, and came out stone blind from the terror." "Poor boy! Well, come along with me, all of you. The ladies will make room for your sister among them." "And, Captain," Jack interposed, "the boy can have my berth. This young man and I, who are old friends, can sleep on the deck together." The captain agreed. He was heard to remark afterwards that he "thought Armenians were all savages, but these people seemed just like ourselves."