"The soldiers were busy. Mr. Cave had been to them and told them to revolt, but they did not trust him. So the old people met and decided. They told Mr. Cave they would be ready tonight, but as soon as it was night, they tied up their overseers and began to go away, one by one. A few were left, to deceive. The Italians did not stop them, they thought it was part of the plan. When they found out, it was too late. Mr. Cave had to choose between running after them and fighting Dr. Gentian." Andrew gasped. So that explained Mr. Cave's grumbling. "Tricked, by God!" If Dr. Gentian had been watchful or Mr. Cave loyal, so appallingly obvious a plan could never have succeeded--but the Doctor's watchfulness had been employed solely upon Andrew and Sebastian and Mr. Cave's treachery had wrecked his own scheme. Add to this the firm belief in the animal stupidity of the Minorcans which both Cave and his master held as a tenet of faith, and the thing was done. After years of rule, men grew careless, forgetting the ruled can have any craft. If Mr. Cave had won, he would doubtless have blamed the slaughter of Dr. Gentian on the departed Minorcans and, with Sparta's word to back him, could have looted the plantation as he pleased. Andrew pondered these circumstances in his mind. "Did you know of this, Sebastian?" he said. "When you told me what that dead man planned, I thought there must be some way out for my people. I told Caterina to tell them to do what seemed best and not think of us--that we would rescue ourselves." The fact of Mr. Cave's death struck Andrew now with a queer force--he had hardly taken it in before. Mr. Cave would never dabble his fingers in Sparta Gentian's hair again or rave impotently at the legitimate world. It seemed odd to think of that strong, bulky body empty of violence--those heavy hands no longer able to afflict or destroy. There must be something left--a soul?--where was it? He saw it fluttering in the wind like a burnt rag, maimed, stupid, defiant and alone. "Poor devil," he thought for a moment--the rag fluttered at him angrily--it did not want pity--it still wanted to hurt but it no longer had the power--the thought made him a little sick.... "Think they'll chase us?" he said, after a while. "Have their hands full," said Sebastian. "Caterina says the Italians were going to pay off old scores and fire the Greek huts. If they did, they'll be fighting fire all the rest of the night."