‘Vlacho the innkeeper bids you descend,’ said he; and then, catching sight perhaps of our revolvers, he turned and ran downstairs again at his best speed. Following him we came to the door of the inn. It was ringed round with men, and directly opposite to us stood Vlacho. When he saw me he commanded silence with a gesture of his hand, and addressed me in the following surprising style. ‘The Lady Euphrosyne, of her grace, bids you depart in peace. Go, then, to your boat and depart, thanking God for His mercy.’ ‘Wait a bit, my man’ said I; ‘where is the lord of the island?’ ‘Did you not know that he died a week ago?’ asked Vlacho, with apparent surprise. ‘Died!’ we exclaimed one and all. ‘Yes, sir. The Lady Euphrosyne, Lady of Neopalia, bids you go.’ ‘What did he die of?’ ‘Of a fever,’ said Vlacho gravely; and several of the men round him nodded their heads and murmured in no less grave assent, ‘Yes, of a fever.’ ‘I am very sorry for it,’ said I. ‘But as he sold the island to me before he died, I don’t see what the lady, with all respect to her, has got to do with it. Nor do I know what this rabble is doing about the door. Bid them disperse.’ This attempt at _hauteur_ was most decidedly thrown away. Vlacho seemed not to hear what I said. He pointed with his finger towards the harbour. ‘There lies your boat. Demetri and Spiro cannot go with you, but you will be able to manage her yourselves. Listen now! Till six in the morning you are free to go. If you are found in Neopalia one minute after, you will never go. Think and be wise.’ And he and all the rest, as though one spring moved the whole body, wheeled round and marched off up the hill again, breaking out into the old chant when they had gone about a hundred yards. We were left alone in the doorway of the inn, looking, I must admit, rather blank. Upstairs again we went, and I sat down by the window and gazed out on the night. It was very dark, and seemed darker now that the gleaming torches were gone. Not a soul was to be seen. The islanders, having put matters on a satisfactory footing, were off to bed. I sat thinking. Presently Denny came to me, and put his hand on my shoulder. ‘Going to cave in, Charley?’ he asked. ‘My dear Denny,’ said I, ‘I wish you were at home with your mother.’ He smiled and repeated, ‘Going to cave in, old chap?’ ‘No, by Jove, I’m not!’ cried I, leaping up. ‘They’ve had my money, and I’m going to have my island.’ ‘Take the yacht, my lord,’ counselled Hogvardt, ‘and come back with enough force from Rhodes.’ Well, here was sense; my impulse was nonsense. We four could not conquer the island. I swallowed my pride. ‘So be it,’ said I. ‘But look here, it’s only just twelve. We might have a look round before we go. I want to see the place, you know.’ For I was very sorely vexed at being turned out of my island.