"O, damn his orders!" muttered Curtis and scrambling to his feet, he ran so rapidly forward that he passed two or three of the Italians, and had nearly reached Lindbohm's side when he heard a sound as though the man behind him had stepped on a bundle of dry twigs. Turning, he saw the poor fellow lying upon his side, bent like a bow. He was clutching the calf of his left leg with both hands and grinning. His shin had been shattered by a ball. Somebody fell upon Curtis and bore him to earth, and immediately there was a crash and rattle of rifles behind and all around him. The man at his side took deliberate aim at somebody and fired. Curtis followed his example and shot at one of the windows of the blockhouse. There was a lull and they dashed forward again. Curtis kept his eye on Lindbohm this time, and pitched forward upon his face when he saw the Swede do likewise. They ran but a short distance each time, but the third spurt brought them half way to their destination. Lindbohm now kept straight on, stopping every moment to aim and fire. The others followed his example and they were able thus to keep advancing, and none the less to maintain a fusillade against the doors and windows of the Turkish stronghold. They were still ten or twelve rods away, when a white flag appeared on the roof. Lindbohm turned and motioned to his companions, who gathered about him. They walked fearlessly through the open door, into the front room of a square stone building. A thin-faced, gray-haired officer in a faded fez, came forward to meet them. Twenty Turks in ragged uniforms were huddled together in a corner. The place was dim and sulphurous with smoke. "To whom have I the honor of surrendering?" asked the Turkish officer in French, unbuckling his sword. "To me, Monsieur," replied Lindbohm, bringing his heels together with a "click," and saluting with great dignity. "I surrender to save bloodshed," said the Turk. "I see that you are not a Cretan and I therefore, with perfect confidence, turn these men over to you as prisoners of war." "They shall give up their arms and suffer no harm. Monsieur will do me the honor of retaining his sword." The remaining Cretans were now come up and many of them had crowded into the room. Lindbohm ordered them out and put two stout fellows at the door. "Now, Monsieur, if you will kindly tell your men to give up their guns."