“Well, that came about in a queer sort of way,” said the Demarch, lighting his pipe. “When I was up at Zanzibar, which was about as far north as I had then got, I met a poor devil of a Greek who was starving, so took him about with me as a kind of companion. He had been mixed up in the War of Independence, and got on the bad side of King Otho, who was, at that time, ruling Greece about as badly as it could be ruled. My Greek had a dream of reviving the old Hellenic learning; but with the country under a Bavarian king, and overrun with brigands, he did not see how this could be done. I told him of my desire to find something to occupy my mind and body; so he suggested, as I had such a lot of money, I ought to try to start a little kingdom of my own on an intellectual basis. The idea took my fancy greatly, as I was always of an administrative turn of mind; and then he told me about this island of Melnos, and how it could be cultivated, fortified, and made into a kind of Elysium by a man with capital. After some deliberation I decided to do this, and pose as a second Lord Byron; therefore, with my Greek, I went up the coast in a trading vessel, and into the Red Sea. It was very uncivilized in those days, and we had all kinds of adventures, in one of which my poor Hellene was knocked on the head; so I was left to battle my way on alone over the isthmus to the Mediterranean.” “I wonder you were not killed.” “I was pretty nearly,” rejoined Justinian grimly; “especially up Suez way. Of course, at that time, there was no canal, and no Suez; but I managed somehow to get across the isthmus to Alexandria. I need not tell you all my adventures from the time I left Zanzibar, as it would take too long; but they were just as exciting as the Bolivian escapades, if not quite as bloodthirsty.” “You ought to publish a book of your career.” “My dear Crispin, they would call me a second Baron Munchausen, for many of my adventures would seem impossible in these tame days of Cook’s tourist parties. The thirties were a great falling off from the buccaneering times, but in these days the thirties seem quite bloodthirsty; and where the next generation of born adventurers, such as I was, will find scope for the exercise of their talents, I am sure I do not know.” “Well, uncle, and what did you do after Alexandria?”