Coffee and cigarettes were produced, and ointment for our lacerated hands. We were made to feel quite at home. . . . The family stayed and talked to us until dawn broke. They thoroughly appreciated the story of the escape, and clapped their hands with glee at the idea of the Turks' amazement when they discovered that we had vanished, leaving no trace behind us. "They will never find the rope," said Themistocle, "because the shopkeeper over whose shop it is will certainly cut it down and hide it, for fear of being asked questions." "And now we must thank the Blessed Saints for your escape," said an old lady who had not previously spoken. She went to a glass cupboard, opened it, and lit two candles. A scent of rose-leaves and incense came from the shrine, which contained oranges and ikons and Easter eggs and a large family Bible. For a moment or two we all stood silent. Then---- Just when I was expecting a prayer, the old lady blew out the candles and shut up the cupboard and crossed herself. The thanksgiving was over, and we dispersed with very cordial good-nights. I think Themistocle wanted to kiss us, but we felt we had been through trials enough for the time and refused to offer even one cheek. The family retired to the passage and settled down to rest with squeaks and giggles, while Robin and I, after thanking God for all His mercies, with very humble and grateful hearts, threw ourselves down on the bed, too exhausted to undress, and slept the sleep of free men. Next instant, it seemed to me, although in reality two hours had elapsed, we were awakened by the twins, who looked on us as their especial charges, and thought us tremendous fun. "Time to get up," they said excitedly. "The house might be searched at any minute." Instantly we were afoot. "Where are the police?" I asked. "There is a detective standing at the corner of our street," said Hyppolite. "And they often come to see if all our lodgers are registered!" added his sister. We bundled our maps, compasses, and other belongings into a towel, and staggered downstairs, with fear and sleep battling for mastery in our minds. But in the pantry, we found the seniors of the household quite unconcerned. There was no imminent danger of a search. . . . On the other hand, there was the immediate prospect of breakfast. A saucepan was actually being buttered (and butter was worth its weight in gold) to make us an omelette. By now we had been thoroughly stirred from sleep, and realised how hungry we were. I forget how many omelettes we ate, or how much butter we used, but I think that that charming breakfast cost a five-pound note, or thereabouts. When it was over, an engaging sense of drowsiness began to creep over me again, but the twins were adamant. "You must practise getting into the cistern," said Hyppolite. "Like the forger did," chimed in Athene--"and then you must arrange a hiding-place for your things."