"Uncle Nicholas!" he cried, "is it you?" "Who else should it be, little Mitsos? And what do you here?" "Petrobey sent me down this morning to see if anything could be seen or heard of you, and when you did not come, and we heard from the others what had happened, we were afraid, or almost afraid--" "I am not so easily got rid of," said Nicholas. "Anastasis, I shall not forget that you were good to the fugitives. Yes, I will have some coffee." Most of the men sleeping on the floor had awoke at the noise and were sitting up. Nicholas took a chair and began sipping his coffee. "Little Mitsos," he said, aloud, "I do not know what the others may have told you has happened, but I will tell you what I saw. I saw a body of men, who knew nothing of war, stand steady under a heavy fire because they were told to stand. I saw them go on under it when there was room to move, but not one did I see do aught else until I had to set the example, and told them to run." Mitsos grew rather red in the face. "The cavalry charged on them, and from behind the fortifications came a hail of bullets. And I never desire," he said, striking the table a great thump, "nor would it be possible, to command braver men." Mitsos held out his hand to the man nearest him. "Christos, shake hands or knock me down," he said. "I eat my words as one eats figs in autumn--one gulp." "What have you been saying, little Mitsos?" asked Nicholas. "I said they were cowards to run away. Oh, but I am very sorry! They are bad words I am eating." "Well, let there be no mistake, Mitsos," said Nicholas; "down they go!" Christos, a huge, broad-shouldered country Greek, looked up at Mitsos, grinning. "There is no malice," he said. "I called you a liar." "So you did, and there were nearly hard blows. Oh, we should have made a fine fight of it, for we are neither little people. But there will be no fighting now, unless you are wishful, for I will deny no one anything, now Uncle Nicholas has come. Why, are you lame, uncle? How did you get here?" "I rode a fine Turkish horse," remarked Nicholas; "may I never ride a finer!" Mitsos' frank and unreserved apologies had quite restored the amiability of those present, who, when Nicholas had entered, were growling and indignant, for Mitsos had made himself quite peculiarly offensive. But, though he could not clearly see how bravery was compatible with running away, Nicholas must be taken on trust.