The Lieutenant found no difficulty in buying another straw hat, as the booths of the town were all open again; and another shoe-string was easily obtainable by which he tethered it to his button-hole. An enterprising Jew produced a stock of ready-made clothing from Vienna, and Curtis endeavored to persuade Lindbohm to join him in the purchase of a complete new outfit. "The first thing is to find Panayota," said the Swede. "We must not waste a moment. Ah, my friend, you mistake that girl! She will be so glad to see you that she will not look at your clothes." Clapping a straw hat upon the head of Curtis, he dragged him away. They found the commandant's quarters with little difficulty, as every man, woman and child in Canea was able to direct them. It was an oriental house with a garden. Two sentinels stood at the gate. Lindbohm sent in his card, and a youthful officer in fatigue uniform came out, who stared with evident surprise, and then gazed curiously at the two callers. Lindbohm brought the heels of the yellow boots together and saluted. "Pardon our appearance," he explained, "but the fact of the matter is we have been fighting with the insurgents for the last three months, and we have not yet had an opportunity to purchase clothing." The Englishman laughed and held out his hand cordially. "Come in, Lieutenant," he said, "and your friend here." They entered the court. "Take a seat here in the shade. Shall I order you some coffee, Turkish style--or perhaps you'd prefer some whisky and soda." "I'd like a Christian drink!" cried Curtis with great animation. "Something to take the taste out of my mouth." "O, yust bring me some whisky, thank you," said the Swede, sitting on the edge of a chair, impatient to go on with the business that had brought him there. "My name is Jones," said the Englishman, "Lieutenant Alfred Jones, at your service." "Let me present my friend, Mr. Curtis, Mr. John Curtis. And now, Lieutenant, we wish to inquire about a Cretan lady, Panayota Nicolaides, whom Kostakes Effendi captured and carried off from her friends. She--" "She was the daughter of some friends of ours," broke in Curtis, volubly, as Lindbohm waved his hand toward him. "Her father, a priest, befriended us. We were shipwrecked and I stepped on some sort of a damned thing, a kind of sea-pincushion stuck full of pins, and it poisoned me. And the priest took me in and took care of me, and the Turks swooped down on the village and murdered half the inhabitants and carried the girl and her father off. Then they killed the old man. This Kostakes--" "That must have been one of the chaps that we hanged last night," interrupted Lieutenant Jones. "Yust so," said Lindbohm, "and now we want to know what has become of Panayota. My friend here--"