“I am a bit of an antiquarian, Mr. Roylands,” he explained as they descended, “and all over these islands I pay men to dig among ancient ruins for statues, which I do my best to restore, and then place here. This Apollo, for instance,” he said, as they paused before a life-sized nude figure holding a lyre, “was found at Delos and brought to me. True, the Greek Government claim all these things, but I do not see why I should not secure them if possible, and I am sure they look better in this enchanted valley than in some stuffy museum.” Maurice, with sculptor-like enthusiasm, would fain have lingered before this masterpiece of Greek art, but Justinian hurried him impatiently away. “You will have plenty of time to look at them again,” he said as they resumed their descent, “but at present I have plenty to show you. I am glad you like my staircase.” “It is wonderful, but I think the tunnel is still more so.” “Yes; it is a fine piece of engineering,” said Justinian complacently. “You see it was impossible to constantly climb up over the peaks, which involved waste of time, and a weary ascent, so I got an engineer from England, supplied him with plenty of Greeks, and they finished that tunnel in five years. I am very proud of it, I assure you.” “What about the gate in the middle of it?” “That is absolutely necessary, not so much now as formerly, but forty years ago the Ægean was very lawless, and the government could not put down the pirates. Of course, hearing a rich Englishman had bought Melnos, those rascals thought it contained all kinds of treasures, and have made frequent assaults on it. Fortunately I have always managed to beat them off. I think the rascals have a wholesome dread of me now,” finished the old man grimly. “Now I suppose there is no danger of any attack being made.” “I am not so sure about that. King George’s Government is more feared by these scamps than was King Otho’s; but, though the majority of them have disappeared, there are still some left who would like to storm Melnos.” “Alcibiades?” “What do you know of Alcibiades?” asked Justinian sharply. “Nothing more than that he is an equivocal character. Caliphronas told me so much.” “Andros! Yes, he is far too friendly with that scamp of an Alcibiades, who is an excessively dangerous man. I do not trust Andros, and he knows it; so, out of sheer anger, he may urge Alcibiades to assault the island. An enemy without, a traitor within—it is very dangerous.” “If you distrust Caliphronas, why don’t you turn him out?” “I have no proof against him yet, but I fancy he has some scheme in his mind. Believe me, Mr. Roylands, if you have a stomach for fighting, I fancy there will be plenty of opportunity for you to indulge in it shortly.” “Oh, as for that, I should like nothing better.” “I like that,” said Justinian decisively; “you are a true Roylands!” “I trust so. But how do you know the Roylands are a fighting family?”