A question was on the Capsina's lips, but at that moment a Turk came by within a yard of the door of the hut, and seeing a comrade lying opposite, spoke to him. The Capsina had drawn Suleima into a corner, but stood herself opposite the door. She saw the wounded Turk raise his head feebly and point at the door of the hut where she was, and on the instant the other put up his musket in act to fire. But the Capsina was the quicker--had the man passed by, she would not have risked a shot, for she and Suleima were alone there, but she guessed what that pointed finger meant--and while yet the man's musket was but half way to his shoulder, he fell, shot to the heart. She handed back the pistol to Suleima, with her case of powder and bullets, while the child crowed with delight at the flash of the fire. "Give me your pistol," she said, "if it is loaded, and load mine again if you know how. That child should be a soldier some day." She stepped swiftly out of the hut, and without a quiver of a muscle pointed the pistol at the wounded Turk's head. "I should have shot you at once," she said, and then with the smoking pistol in her hand stepped quickly back into the hut, leaving the thing fallen forward like a broken toy, thinking only of her unasked question. Still she could not frame her lips to it, and Suleima having loaded the pistol handed it back to her. "You have save my life and that of the littlest and dearest," she said. "I kiss your hand for it, and thank you from my heart." But the Capsina drew her hand quickly away. "I could do no less," she said, shortly, "but I want to ask you--" Suddenly the child broke out into a little wailing cry, and Suleima turned to it. "Oh littlest Mitsos," she said, "hush you, my little one. The father never cried when he was such as you." The Capsina stood quite still, and suddenly her throat felt dry and burning. "The child's name is Mitsos?" she asked, in a whisper. "Surely, after the name of his father." The two girls could not see each other in the darkness of the hut, but for a moment Suleima thought she felt the other's hand touching the baby lightly, and there was silence for a space. "You did not seem frightened when you came in here," said the Capsina, at length. "I had no time or thought to spare for fright. I had the child with me." A great burst of shouting broke out at the moment, and the Capsina rose to her feet. "It is the others from Nauplia," she said. Then from no long distance her name was called out, and she went to the door of the hut. "Kanaris--is it Kanaris?" she cried. "I am here and safe." Kanaris ran up, breathless and bloody, and more enthusiastic than his wont. "It is all over," he panted; "we have driven them out of the village, and the rest from Nauplia are seeing to those who have escaped. Surely you bear the good luck with you, Capsina."