boat dropped blazing into the water. The fire had now reached to the main-mast, and in a moment caught the sail. Then after a few seconds, in which the smoke redoubled itself, the great sheet of canvas caught and flared up in a pillar of flame. Great burned pieces fell off and strewed the deck; other lighter fragments were borne away like birds in the wind and fled seaward, flapping and blazing. Then, with another crash, a second portion of the deck fell in, and, mingled with the noise the shrill chorus of despair from the women, rose higher and higher. Some jumped overboard and found their death in what might have been their safety; others ran up and down the deck, which grew ever hotter and more blistered, and now scribbled over by lines of burning pitch; some seized up water-cans and buckets, and tried even then to stop the flames; and more than one man ran to where the flames were fiercest, preferring to die at once. Then without warning came the end. A frightful explosion tore the air; the ship parted in the middle, for the flame had reached the powder-magazine, and in smoke and steam and human cries she went down, and a minute afterwards there was silence but for the wind and blackness. The explosion roused Mitsos and he looked up. "What was that?" he said to Yanni. "It is all over," replied Yanni. "She exploded and went down." "All over, thank God!" and he sank down again. Yanni bent to the oars, for it was hard work against the wind, and in an hour or so he saw the lights on the quay not more than a quarter of a mile off. It was still crowded with people who had been watching the fire, and he kept out in the darkness until he had passed it, and then came in closer to the shore, so as to be shielded a little from the wind by the land, and rowed steadily on till he came to the landing-place opposite Mitsos' house. Then he touched the other on the shoulder. "Get up, dear Mitsos," he said, "we are here." Mitsos raised himself and followed Yanni across the road to the house. They went in, locking the door behind them, and Mitsos, still silent, lay down on the window-seat, staring out dry-eyed into the darkness. But in a few moments a knock came, and Yanni went to the door to see who it was. "It is I, Lelas," said a voice. Yanni unwillingly undid the door, and the fat, urbane café-keeper came in, smiling. "Eh, but you two have lost a fine sight," he said. "A Turkish ship blazing down to the water's-edge, and then bang she went; and there'll not be a soul to tell the tale." Mitsos, in his window-seat, shuddered and half sat up. "I wish there had been more on board," continued Lelas. "Why, I'd have given a week's wage if that old Abdul and his poultry-yard of women had been there." Next moment he was aware of two great hands half throttling him. "Abdul who? Which Abdul?" said Mitsos, his face close to Lelas, and hissing out the words. "Speak, you damned pig of the pit."