The Greeks began to come in, talking excitedly and gesticulating like madmen. They seemed to be in high spirits. They gathered about Curtis, and, pointing at the dead bodies, all talked at once. They enraged him. He could hardly resist the desire to jump up and lay about among them with the butt of his musket. Lindbohm pushed his way through the crowd. Holding his gun in his left hand, he brought the right to his forehead, saluting gaily with the imaginary sword. "Well, my friend, we had a little fun with them, didn't we? The ambush, however, would have been more of a success had the men obeyed my orders. If I had my way I would yust shoot a soldier who disobeyed orders. Still, we taught them a lesson. We have killed, let me see how many, one two, three-- "Hell!" interrupted Curtis, rising suddenly. "What!" said Lindbohm, turning upon him, "what's the matter?" "She's gone." Lindbohm clutched at the shoulder of a bystanding insurgent. "Panayota!" he gasped. "Huh! Where were you? Eh? Where were you? Here they came, six of 'em, right down here, and the girl and I all alone. What could I do, one against six? You're a healthy soldier, you are--scatter all over the country! Lindbohm, you're to blame for this. You've got to answer to me--somebody's got to settle for this." Flinging his rifle down among the stones, he turned his back contemptuously and limped toward one of the houses. A kindly insurgent sprang to his assistance. "Right up through there they went, carrying her with them. Four men could have stopped 'em. Where were you, damn you?" and, pushing the insurgent from him, he shook his fist in his face. "Get out of my sight, get out!" he cried. Lindbohm was sitting on the side of the basin, his face buried in his hands. He was sobbing and talking to himself in Swedish. Those who stood near heard the word "Panayota." Reason returned to Curtis as speedily as he had lost it. His blind rage passed away, and in its place came a resolve to recover Panayota and to settle with Kostakes according to the present debt and all that might accrue. The spirit of Crete had taken thorough possession of him. He had been wronged by the Turk, he lived only for vengeance. His eye fell upon a Cretan in the act of pulling a boot from a dead Turk's foot. He was tugging with all his might. All at once he flew over backwards with the boot in his hands. His comrades broke into laughter. Lindbohm did not look up. "They don't feel this thing about Panayota as badly as Lindbohm and I do," soliloquized Curtis. "Poor old Lindbohm! I'll tell him I'm in love with Panayota, and then he'll see how foolish it is for him to take on so. He ought to stand it if I can." The insurgent detached the other boot and brought the pair to him. "Will those fit?" he asked. "Good boots."