Curtis could not realize that those were the bodies of human beings, there was something so theatrical about their appearance; they hung so neatly in a row, and the heads all lolled one way, like heads of Brownies in an advertisement. "Maybe they have hanged them in effigy," he suggested. Lindbohm laughed. "Might as well be now," he replied. "But let us ask the guard where we will find the commandant. Then we shall learn something about Kostakes and Panayota." "You go," said Curtis; "I'll wait for you here." He shrank from the ingenuous explanation that Panayota was his betrothed. The very thought made him shudder. "I can't tell him," he muttered, as he watched Lindbohm forcing his way through the throng. "I must get away from him some way. By Jove, I'll run off and leave him, if I can't do any better. Good God, what an escape I've had!" "Hi!" shouted Lindbohm, so that every soul in the square turned and looked at him. He was standing on tiptoe and Curtis could see the ruddy face with its red bandanna halo floating on a sea of heads. "Hi!" called the Swede again, waving his stick in air. "Come here, quick! I've found Kostakes." "Now, what the devil do I want of Kostakes?" muttered Curtis, plunging reluctantly into the press. When he had reached Lindbohm's side, the Swede gripped him by the arm and pointed a long finger at one of the pantomimists in the Punch and Judy booth. A board hung, suspended from the neck of each, with a name and crime inscribed thereon in Turkish and English. Curtis read: KOSTAKES EFFENDI. Captain of Bashi Bazouks, Murder and Arson. "It is hard for a soldier to die thus," said the Swede sadly. "But a soldier who disgraces his calling, deserves such a death. Well, my friend," turning to Curtis, "half our work has been done for us, eh? Now the rest will be easy. Is it not so?"