The active old man rapidly delivered his final orders to Captain Georgios, and then hastily scrambled down to the boat, followed by the two young men. They were speedily pulled ashore, and Justinian, springing on to the rocks, strode up with a frowning face to the group surrounding Alcibiades and Caliphronas, pushing the men on either side with haughty roughness. “Now, then, Captain Alcibiades, what do you want at Melnos?” Maurice looked curiously at this celebrated individual, of whom he had heard so much, and beheld a squat, heavily-built man, with fiery eyes, an evil countenance, and a long black beard. He was clad in the usual dress of Greek sailors, consisting of rough blue trousers and jacket, boots of untanned leather, a red shirt, and a tasselled cap of the same color. To mark his rank, however, he wore a handsome gold-embroidered belt round his waist, in which were placed a rusty-looking knife and a brace of pistols. This, then, was the renowned Captain Kidd of these waters, who, had he lived fifty years earlier, would have been a declared pirate, but who now, owing to the establishment of New Hellas, had to carry on his rascally calling under the pious guise of smuggling and peaceful trading. With his rough dress, his squat figure, his tangled black beard, he formed a great contrast to the slender form of Caliphronas, with his clean-shaven face and dandy costume of an Albanian Palikar. Yet, in spite of the difference in good looks, the two men had the same cunning expression in their shifty eyes, and there was but little doubt that the rough blackguardism of the one was only refined into the astute scoundrelism of the other. “Well, Alcibiades!” demanded Justinian, imperiously stamping his foot; “what do you want with me?” “Kyrion Justinian,” said the smuggler in a cringing manner, “I but landed here to see you and the Kyrion Andros about a cargo of wine I wish to obtain for Crete. I will pay you a good price for it, as the grapes of Melnos are much thought of at Khanea.” Justinian, on receiving this diplomatic answer, ran his fingers thoughtfully through his silver beard, and pondered as to what answer to give. He was never averse to turning an honest penny by trading, and he knew Alcibiades would pay a good price, as the wine of Melnos was much liked by the Cretans on account of its resinous taste, for the insular Greeks do not as a rule preserve their vintage in this way, which is peculiar to the mainland. “How much do you want?” he said abruptly. “Two hundred skins,” replied Alcibiades glibly; and named what he considered a fair price. “Do you think I desire to make you a present of the wine?” retorted Justinian scornfully. “Double your offer.” “Kyrion! impossible!” cried Alcibiades, throwing up his hands with a look of dismay on his crafty-looking face. “You won’t get it for less.” Alcibiades cast a stealthy look at Caliphronas, and considered a few moments.