Still hand in hand the two passed on to the mariner's church on the quay, where, as in duty bound, they offered thanks and alms to their name-patrons for their safe coming; and having finished their prayers they stood for a moment, silent, at the church-door. "You will not sail to-morrow?" asked Mitsos. "You will come and see the home? May I not come for you in the boat in the morning?" Sophia hesitated a moment. "No, I cannot come," she said. "I sail to Hydra to-morrow, for I, too"--and she smiled at him naturally--"I, too, have a home. But surely we shall be together again, if you will. If this report of the Turks moving south is not true, we shall want you by sea, and speedily. Kanaris--you--me! Lad, the Turks will not be very pleased to see us again. So good-bye, little Mitsos; get you home." And without another word she turned from him and went back to the ship. Mitsos's way lay eastward, through the lower town, and many tried to make him stop awhile and tell them of the big deeds. "Yes, but to-morrow," he would cry. "Oh, dear folk, let me go," and he had fairly to run from them. The moon had risen, and the familiar homeward road stretched like a white ribbon in front of him. The bay lay in shining sleep; from the marsh came the ecstatic croaking of frogs, and the thought that they had stayed so long in one marsh made Mitsos smile. From the white poplars came the song of love-thrilled nightingales, and white owls hovered and hooted and passed, and now and then a breeze would blow softly across the vineyard, laden with the warm odors of spring and the smell of growing things. But he went quickly, for his heart's desire was a spur to him, and stayed not till he came to the garden-gate; and ere yet he had lifted the latch Suleima had knowledge of his coming, and they met, and the love which each had for the other brimmed their very souls. CHAPTER X