Sir! there are three degrees of robbery, With different names, but meanings similar: For he who does his thievish work himself Is but a common foot-pad! quite unfit To mix in gentlemen’s society. A bandit, brigand, robber chief, is he Who has a dozen men or so to rule, And steals your daughter, burns your tenement, Or holds you prisoner till a ransom’s paid. But he who, having armies at command, Robs brother monarchs of their territories, Is called a conqueror, because he thieves Upon a large and comprehensive scale. Thief, brigand, conqueror! believe me, sir, The size o’ the theft is all the difference; For, call them what you please, they’re criminals. Justinian, having ascertained all particulars about the wreck of The Eunice the previous day, had sent a number of men to look after the bodies of those unfortunates who had been cast up on the beach of Melnos, and now, in company with the three young men, and the surviving sailors, went to the sea-shore in order to give the corpses decent burial. Conducted by a body of his Greeks, bearing torches, he went down through the tunnel, and speedily arrived at the outer entrance, from which a sandy beach sloped down to the harbor. Not that it was exactly a harbor, but Justinian had aided Nature to form one, by erecting a breakwater from the end of a jutting promontory, which breakwater, built of huge undressed stones, ran out in a curve into the tideless sea, and thus embraced a calm pool of water, which sufficiently protected ships at anchorage. Beyond, the ocean at times was rough enough, and at stormy seasons dashed its white waves over the rocky mole, but within that charmed circle there was no danger, and the smallest boat was as safe there as it would have been on the serene waters of a mountain lake. This was the work of the English engineer who had planned and carried out the piercing of the tunnel, and Maurice could not withhold his admiration at the perfection of the whole scheme, for without this breakwater it would have been impossible for any sized craft to cast anchor off the craggy coast of the island. “I have two harbors of this kind,” said Justinian, as they looked at the small boats, feluccas, and caïques which filled the pool; “one you see, the other is on the opposite side of the island. As it faces to the west, of course it suffers more from storms than this one, but I built it in order to facilitate escape in time of trouble should the tunnel be taken by assault.” “I hardly understand.”