"Why? Why? What is happening here? Are you not Aristoteli Dorri's daughter? Who is hunting you?" "The people of the house; the master ... the mistress ... they have called the men of the police; they will put me in prison!" "What have you done?" asked the old man sharply. "I have done nothing. On the soul of my father, I have taken nothing of theirs. But money was lost, and they say I took it. Save me! Take me from here!" Capetan Thanassi looked up and down the road. Farther up towards the grocer's shop two or three men seemed hurrying towards them, but just at that moment a bright light flashed in their eyes, and a street car going to the square came to a stop a few paces away. The old man lifted Mattina bodily to the step and followed her. The little platform was crowded, and as they stood there tightly wedged between many people, he put his finger on his lips so that Mattina should keep silent. Almost at once in the big lighted square they got down again, and before Mattina had time to think where they might be going, she had been run across the road, down a broad street, through a crowded waiting-room, down an endless flight of stone steps, and was seated once more in a railway carriage, which started almost as soon as Capetan Thanassi threw himself down puffing and panting on the seat beside her. "Well," he said, wiping his forehead with a big red handkerchief, "it is not a good thing to be hunted and to run; but to let these Athenians, here, seize hold of Aristoteli Dorri's daughter, and call her a thief! That could not be! Now, listen to me, little one! If you have done anything crooked, that is between God and your soul, but for me it is sufficient that I knew your father. My caique[28] leaves to-night, now, with the turn of the wind. I shall put you in it and take you back to your own country, and once there,... we shall see what can be done." Mattina had seized his hand and was kissing it. "To my own island? To Poros? God make your years many, Capetan Thanassi, for this that you are doing for me!" X The big white caique at Piræus was ready laden, only waiting for its captain, and an hour later, Mattina, in a little corner between two planks of wood and a big case, lay curled up on the low deck, with the cool night wind blowing salt and fresh on her face. She listened to the water flap-flapping against the wooden sides of the boat, and dimly saw the great white sails bellying out above her head. She heaved a big sigh of content and stretched out her feet under a loose piece of sack-cloth. The harbor lights of Piræus were already far behind them when, rocked by the softly swaying movement, she fell asleep.